There are times in life when time doesn’t seem to really happen. I’m sure you can recall saying more than once, “I can’t believe it’s been that long,” or “Where did the time go?” I’ve said it myself on many occasions. But when it comes to Dually Noted, I can’t say that’s the case.

One year ago, on January 27, 2008, Lori and I launched the Dually Noted blog (though the idea sprung from one of my personal journal writings a few weeks earlier). Yes, we’ve been at this for a year, and that’s exactly what it feels like to me. That’s not to say time has stood still or dragged on. But it does speak to the hesitancy I continue to reserve for my friendship with an FWK. Even though Lori’s definitely a “Bad-Ass FWK,” as she so aptly described herself to me earlier this week, she’s still an FWK. Shock art pioneer Marcel Duchamp may have called his piece “Fountain,” but it was still a urinal.

As I mentioned in my last post, Lori and I spent the month of December on different lands and in different worlds, with little interaction other than an email here and there. During this time, it occurred to me that this is likely what our friendship would have been like (sparse) if I had totally dismissed her as an FWK from the beginning. I’m glad I didn’t, and don’t (for now), because that thought alone feels lonely. And deflating. And, as it turns out, Lori hasn’t gone all freaky-FWK on me. No “OMG this is so much work!” or “ I feel like a real woman now that I’ve had a baby,” or “I can’t imagine life without Matteo.” (Although this offhand comment threw me for a loop one day.) She may think those things but she has yet to labor on and on about them to me (emphasis on the word “yet”).

Though there’s little indication that she will. I think if our friendship does dissolve over the kid thing, it will be more about me not wanting to make the changes that come with having an FWK: flexibility, patience, understanding, sharing shelf space, and a genuine interest in the kid’s life. All those things I’ve put into practice this past year. Matteo’s adorableness has made the last 12 months tolerable, but it’s Lori’s friendship that has made it worth it all. The truth is, Matteo is a distraction in our friendship but one I can live with. So far.

For now. Yet. So far. See, I told you I’m still hesitant about being friends with an FWK. Even if this first year has unfolded rather pleasantly.

Since Matteo’s arrival, I’ve seen big changes and subtle changes in Lori and my friendship. The most dramatic of these came in November and December when I saw Lori starting to surrender. Full-time mom whose husband traveled for work or worked late hours at the office when he wasn’t, full-time corporate career woman, full-time friend, full-time individual. You can’t be full-time everything and come out full. You can’t even come out half full. Alive is even questionable. I honestly thought it was the end, of either her or our friendship. She was sinking and the only lifeline I could throw was my exit. Take the weight of “full-time friend” off your shoulders, Girl, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to tread water. But luckily I didn’t have to do that. The greatest gift she was given this Christmas was her pink slip. She may not be able to save for retirement now, but at least she is able to save her sanity. For real.

The highlight of this past year was Tuesdays with M-Lori, the once-a-week get-togethers we had during her maternity leave. Museums, beach visits, lunches, creativity days, hikes, and sleep overs. It was like being in college again without the homework. Or the tuition. I’m also grateful for Lori’s continued desire to make space for her own thing. When Tuesdays with M-Lori ended, we got into the grove with Micromovement Mondays (MM). Setting personal goals, cheering each other on, taking risks, and having fun is what MM all about. I have to credit Matteo for Lori’s commitment to herself. I think a concern of being lost in him and the baby world keeps her fiercely, if not stubbornly, protecting her own sandbox.

The more subtle changes come not directly within our friendship but within Lori, which, by association, impacts us both. Just last week, Lori impressed me with her reflexes. She’s never been a jumpy person. Never been one to make a sudden move. In fact, I don’t ever recall seeing her even flinch. But man, when Matteo appeared to be taking a dive off the couch, the girl went from zero to sixty in under five. Maybe even under three. Lightening speed. And that’s how I generally operate. I’m always zipping from one thing, thought, action, word, place, or whatever to another. And yes, that makes me edgy. I’m always bouncing a knee or tapping a foot or whipping my head around to see whatever it was I saw out of the corner of my eye. Welcome to my world, Lori. Hope you enjoy the ride.

As for my own observations of myself, I freely admit to wishing for the old days, pre-Matteo, when it was just the two of us (or three of us when our friend Nicole lived in town) and a long evening of drinking, eating, music, talking, and generally goofing around. I having a feeling that if not for our MM, Lori and I would not see each other that much. It’s hard enough to coordinate the schedules of two busy women who live 49 miles apart. Throw in finding a babysitter, a baby you can’t reason with yet, and the stress of both parties trying their best to make it work and you hardly have a relaxing girl’s night out. But I know both of us are consciously putting forth a genuine effort to keep the core of our friendship in tact and I hope it works out the best for all of us this next year (and beyond!). As I said earlier, this first year has gone quite smoothly and I can feel myself getting into an FWK grove with Lori. I’m learning what is important to hold on to and what is okay to let go of.

Forever etched in my mind are two images that pretty much sum up this year to a T. One is of Lori, a few months after Matteo was born, sitting in a chair in her bedroom hooked up to a breast pump, the machine whirling away and doing its thing on both boobs, and the other of 1-year-old Matteo backing his little butt into Lori as she sat on the couch and then sitting on her like she was his beanbag chair. Mama Lori. Matteo’s source of life and source of comfort. Without getting too dramatic, the same can be said for me. Lori feeds my creative mind and is a friend you can sink comfortably into to. Which is why I look forward to seeing what this next year brings for all of us…Lori, Matteo, and me.