I get by with a little help from ??????????

When I was a kid I loved getting to go to other people's houses. Nothing made me happier than getting to enjoy the chance to spend some time in another environment.

I know part of my joy came from the fact I could get away from my home where alcoholism, anger and depression permeated the air. While my home was often the hub for family gatherings, those get-togethers often devolved into drunken soirees that embarrassed me. I loved to escape to friends' homes where their life more closely resembled those of families on television that I so idealized.

Because I was embarrassed, and oftentimes ashamed, of my home life, I almost never invited friends over to my house. Those who did get invited did so because they'd managed to prove to me they could deal with the environment that waited behind our front door. I had to know they would still be my friend even after I let them into my world before I could ever commit to unlocking my secrets for them.

I didn't find too many people who were able to meet my requirements because I had very few friends who ever spent much of any time at my house. Therefore, I learned very early to be independent and alone.

The struggles I've faced all of my life in making friends have followed me into adulthood and I am having a much harder time coming to grips with how this affects me and my family. I haven't had a lot of problems meeting and connecting with people. Where I fail is in maintaining these friendships.

I am not the type of person to call up my girlfriends to gab on the phone or throw out an open invitation for folks to drop by whenever the urge hits them. Part of the reason for this is because social rules have a tight rein on me thus preventing me from being so casual. Additionally, those old insecurities from my childhood are still with me even though I am in no way embarrassed or ashamed about my current home life; although, I am often less-than-thrilled with the level of nastiness in my house.

I wouldn't worry so much about any of this if I didn't have children because I have always been comfortable doing things alone or just with Jeff. However, Amelia is quite the social butterfly and gets such joy from being with children her own age.

Just this morning she told me she misses a certain child from preschool. Her admission made me so sad, and I was even more sad after seeing the look on her face when I tried to explain that other families have certain people with whom they enjoy spending time and, unfortunately, were are not on their list of people they like to get together with.

She looked like I'd just told her she'd have to throw away her dear, beloved yellow blanket. Her expression was a mix of utter anguish and massive discomfort like I'd just punched her in the stomach. I tried to comfort her best I could and promised her a trip to ride the carousel at the mall, but what I wanted to say was, "Reality sucks, baby. No matter how hard we try some people are just not going to like us."

I know people have lives to lead, jobs to go to and troubles of their own to deal with, and I try to remind myself of all these things when I find myself trying to decipher the reasons for our lack of non-familial relationships. However, I cannot help but be envious of people I know who have friends they have known for years and whom they consider to be one of the family - people who they know they can count on morning, noon and night and who feel so comfortable they come in the house without knocking and who know all about you, but love you anyway.

I wish I could magically conjure a pile of friends for the both of us, but I think we'd be happy if we could each have just one person with whom we could be comfortable. I'd love for Amelia to know the love of a dear, true best friend - at least one that is real. Because as of right now her longest and closest friendships are with two imaginary buddies - Anaconda, a purple, female snake, who, despite her name, is apparently small enough to fit in Amelia's pocket, and ALF, the furry, saxophone-playing alien who starred in a long-running 80s sitcom and who is often at the center of any trouble in which Amelia finds herself.