Hi future fellow mom. Allow me to introduce myself.
I’m Debra. We’ve just met at some kid function. Maybe it was while waiting at
the sidelines at an extracurricular activity or during a PTA event at school.
Perhaps we struck up a conversation in the pediatrician’s waiting room. Or maybe
we exchanged a few bits of dialogue in the frozen aisles of the grocery store
buying dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets. In any event, I thought I would give
you a bit of a heads-up about myself before we dive into anything that even
closely resembles a female friendship. You see, I am a bit strange. I wanted to
give you fair warning so that there are no surprises.
Allow me to explain. Some women come into motherhood
and assimilate into their new friendships with fellow moms quite naturally. For
them, maybe there is no thought behind the process at all. These are the women
who had a big group of friends during childhood, who were able to juggle their
cheerleading and yearbook and student council responsibilities with their weekend
partying. They had boyfriends and actual school spirit. They joined sororities
and made quick friends with their college roommate and posed for pictures at parties with their arms around fellow
girls. They delightfully planned their weddings with gaggles of friends and
included them all as bridesmaids. They laughed together in limousines to
celebrate someone’s bachelorette party. They like wine and hug each other hello
and goodbye even when they’ll see each other in a week. And when these women
have their babies, they walk into the scary, shaky world of parenting together,
hooking elbows and embracing a new female bond together.
You see, the deal is that I wasn’t one of those
girls. In fact, I was quite the opposite. The kind of teenager reminiscent of
mid-90’s indie flicks about loser
teenagers. I rolled my eyes at school spirit and scribbled away in my poetry
notebook and tried to get by with as little social interaction as possible.
Sure, I had friends, but not without the awkwardness and anxiety that came with
being a sullen teenage girl trying to maintain said friendships. Over time, I
realized I got along much better with guys. There seemed to be no drama, no
social butterflies, no pressure to make total sense all the time. They didn’t
care about how you did your hair or how many friends you actually had. Guys
were more cynical, sarcastic, dark, and quiet. And amazingly, I happened to
fall in love with one of them. I married him and had his baby.
When I had my son, there was nothing more I wanted
to do than make stay-at-home motherhood a full time career and make a great
life for the two of us during the week. I was so excited to take my very
curious baby to all the storytimes and library infant classes and programs and
see that there were others like me – new moms who were strung out
and befuddled at how grueling parenthood could be. Like any new mom, I just sought
solace. And when I encountered fellow moms, perhaps I occasionally got a little
too excited. I joined multiple playdate groups and attended everything, and
introduced myself eagerly and naively. And maybe my social shortcomings
manifested in ways I didn’t realize until it was too late. There have been
times I didn’t realize I said something too bluntly. Perhaps the times I was
being spacey and in my own head made other moms misinterpret me for being
rude. I had wanted to be a mother more than anything, but I wasn’t prepared for
the social game that often follows.
Before I became a parent, I would have never thought
about how being around fellow moms can unfortunately be so like high school
sometimes. There are cliques, judgment, gossip, silent assessments and the
sizing up of others. But in order to entertain and socialize our children, we
all need to be around other moms and
form friendships, regardless of our comfort level with that task. A mom who may
walk a little off the beaten path, or is an oddball in one way or another may
be talked about, excluded, not invited, defriended. Someone we thought we’ve
bonded with can become a stranger all too soon. I guess that’s true for all
moms. But in spite of all this, there is hope for us weirdos. There is hope for
all of us. For every mom that can’t relate to you, there is one out there that can. There are great women who will accept you for who you are, who have
enough of a sense of humor to know when you are being sarcastic and when you’re
not, who aren’t too sensitive, who don’t mind if you have opposite tastes and
dissimilar interests, who can engage in conversation with you even if you seeing
things totally differently. There are hundreds of fellow moms who like you just
the way you are, and who are happy to talk about the joys and hardships of parenthood
with someone else and not let personality quirks and social idiosyncrasies get
in the way.
So, fellow mom I’ve just met – you can’t say I
didn’t warn you. If you see me again, you’ll know I may not be exactly like
you. I am a loner yet extremely talkative at once, a strange and confusing
combination. I can be very uptight. When I get really passionate about
something, I can’t stop talking. I’d rather sit on the couch with my husband
watching some independent movie that nobody’s ever heard of than going out for a“Girl’s
Night.” Sometimes I don’t think before speaking and I don’t make much sense. We won’t like the same musicians or actors. I like solitude and
fear social gatherings. I may not always agree with you. I have a really hard
time with small talk but I am happy to discuss the heavy stuff all day. I don’t
fluff the truth or lie. I have no concept of what’s popular or trendy. I hate
talking on the phone. Sometimes I may appear distant. Like I said – I’m a
little strange.
But if we do become friends, what you’ll also get is
someone who will always be loyal and honest. I’ll bake you muffins when you’ve just
had surgery and I’ll sit with you for hours at Starbucks to let you vent
about a big problem. I’ll offer a different perspective on things. I’ll give
you advice if you ask for it. I’ll always be willing to let your kids come play
at our house and make a mess. I’ll offer to babysit. I’ll make you laugh. I’ll
remember everything you tell me. I won’t judge or be catty. I’ll write you
heartfelt thank you emails or letters when you’ve been a good friend and fellow
mom. Because - we’re all in this crazy parenting thing together, and maybe
we’re all a little weird to begin with. And we’ll be better moms for trying to
get to know each other, no matter how different we all are.
Yours Truly,
Debra
Debra
