Maybe not BFF!!!!! (yet?), but at least someone to rant about poop with
21st June 2006
I’m meeting a Mom I met online today. We’re having lunch at the mall.
(Eric calls her my Internet Friend and told me to bring his giant hunting knife along and flash it at her a few times so she knows I’ll take her down if she tries to steal Lucy. *sigh* Thanks, honey.)
Making friends as an adult is hard. It’s not like when you were five and could rush up to a girl on the playground and become immediate best friends forever. We all carry so much baggage, opinion and life experience that it can be very difficult to connect with someone new, and even harder to find people in the first place.
I find this especially true with moms. On the surface, we’re instantly linked by having children. But there are so many divissive issues within motherhood and parenting: breast vs. bottle, (co-)sleeping, schedules, attachment parenting, baptising, crying it out (Ferberizing) vs. responding instantly (Sears), cloth vs. disposable diapers, even whether you gave birth vaginally or by c-section or adopted.
I never realized this until I became a mom, and notice the issues even more as Lucy gets older and my parenting choices become clearer. When you first give birth, you’re so overwhelmed and hormonal and desperate for advice and companionship and validation from other moms that it doesn’t seem to matter where that support is coming from.
This blog has been great for meeting moms (hi Carol! and Angie! and Michelle!) and a few dads (hi David! and Larry!), and I’m fortunate to hear from different people almost every week.
More than anything, I just want some Mom friends. Women to trash talk and celebrate husbands with. Someone I can trade stories with and tell, in minute detail, about Lucy’s really brown poop this morning or how she whined and whined and WHINED all last night (teething, yay!), or how finances with baby are doing or how I worry she sleeps too much or what to do about work or how when Lucy smiles it makes my heart sing and hurt and I finally understand what my mom has been saying all along.
So I hope today goes well. (Geez, no pressure, Jennifer!) I hope Lucy behaves herself (and doesn’t puke down my back and front so the warm, curdled liquid puddles in my bra and underwear SIMULTANEOUSLY like she did this morning OMG THAT WAS DISGUSTING QUIT SMILING AT ME).
Wish us luck.
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