Just like Old Times…only Completely Different.

During my senior year in college, I lived in a tiny apartment with seven girls. We made up our own sorority, Sigma Gamma Gamma. We spent countless hours hanging out at home doing ridiculous things, like eating spaghetti with chopsticks, making paper rings to drape around the entire apartment counting down the days until graduation, and being filmed for a TLC show. You know, typical college stuff. It was one of the best years of my life.

I just got home from my trip to L.A. where I visited one of these former roommates. She happened to marry my cousin, but that is neither here nor there. (By the way, my boys survived and thrived while I was gone…just as I predicted!). She has a beautiful new baby girl, who is my 2nd cousin thrice removed (or something like that), and I was dying to see her.

While I was there, we decided to skype with one of our other former college roomies. She is also home on maternity leave, with an 11 week old son. We chatted for a while about random whatever kind of stuff. About the word for earthquake not being the same as the word for Vermont (you had to be there)…and then we started talking about boobs. Just like old times. I remember many conversations about boobs in the SGG house…who wanted them bigger, who wanted them smaller, who was showing too much to a guy, who wasn’t showing enough—you know, the usual. But this time, we were talking about breastfeeding. Oh, the trials and tribulations, and successes, of breastfeeding.

When we lived in our tiny apartment 10 years ago (gasp!), I can assure you I never imagined a day that this would come. Sure, I hoped I would maintain a friendship with these ladies for the rest of my life. But there was no way to even comprehend technology like skype, or that our boobs would one day serve a much higher purpose. Cheers to that.

I lost my cell phone in LA. I had to call my hubby from a payphone to let him know I landed safely. That part was totally just like old times.