Best friends are the ones you play with the most, I overhear Lila explaining to Asher over bowls of Cheerios this morning.

I love kindergarten simplicity. I love that sharing a snack or playing beside someone in the toy kitchen at school somehow transforms your relationship status to best.

But the truth is, Lila Dear, as you grow up, your best friends aren’t always the ones you get to play with most.

Sometimes, they’re the ones you see the least.

Sometimes, they’re the ones your shared your bedroom with for ten years, sometimes they’re the ones you didn’t even really like when you first met, sometimes they’re the ones you meet after thirty and have almost everything in common with, and sometimes they’re the ones you meet when you’re five and grow up to be completely complimentary opposites.

Sometimes they’re the first ones that you call or email when prayers are needed. Sometimes they’re ones you get dressed up and go out on the town with and sometimes, they’re the ones that you can show up on their doorstep, unshowered and in sweatpants.

Sometimes they’re most of the above, rolled into one fantastic accepts-you-as-you-are package.

But mostly, if you’re lucky, you’ll grow up to have bests, plural. Because I am finding that for me, life at it’s happiest and best, is a team effort.

In my life right now I am beyond blessed by bests, and it makes all the difference in the world to me. Because motherhood, parenting, surviving this daily repetitive nonsense is hard without shoulders to lean on, ears to listen, hands to lend help, good times to look forward to (and happy memories to keep you smiling when there is poop all over your floor and your daughter won’t stop screeching NO at you when you try to put her kicking feet into her pants.)

(And some bests, you don’t even have pictures of to include in quickly thrown together, sentimental collages. But that’s okay too, because they know you well enough to know that you love and appreciate them too.)