After my first week-long crash course in sleep deprivation thanks to a newborn with reflux, I thought- this has to be the worst part of parenthood. It can only go up from here! Then, after cleaning up the absolute destruction that is a gravity defying baby diarrhea diaper blow out in public, I thought- THIS has to be the hardest part of parenthood. Nothing could be worse than that! After that, when I had an extremely ill infant and felt like his health was out of my control, not knowing what was going to happen- I thought, there is no way any part of parenthood could ever be worse than this! Until I was waiting for an ambulance to come after my kid cracked his head on the corner of a brick fireplace, bloodied, shaken, crying- I’d never felt more fear. There couldn’t possibly be ANYTHING worse than that.
But… I made it through all of those things, seemingly unscathed. So did my kids. There were days I wasn’t so sure, but we did it, and actually, we’re all better for it. Weird. So… those weren’t the hardest parts of parenthood? Could there actually be something ELSE? HOW MUCH MORE CAN WE TAKE?!?!
Like any decent shitty side effect of anything, this “worst” of parenthood sneaked up behind me and yanked the rug out from under me, as I suspect it did with many other parents. The little bitch.
No matter the age, no matter the area, after talking to moms from all over the place, we all seemed to agree that the WORST part of parenthood is trying to keep or make friends. Not friends for our kids- but friends for US. The people we’re supposed to be able to confide in, vent to, laugh with, gossip with, relate to. You know, the people that basically keep us sane while our kids drive us to the brink of madness. Unless you have a solid foundation of mothers before popping out your very own spawn, chances are, you’ve experienced this sense of maternal lonliness. Hell, even if you DO have a group of mothers you secured into place before giving birth, that isn’t always something to count on, because, and I’m just being honest here, women can tend to be… twatty. Really twatty. If moms were dinosaurs, their genus would be Twatimus-Maximus.
Since I was the first of my friends to have a kid, one would think I would expect that a lot of them would bail, being that I could no longer party all night or go wherever whenever. In a way I did sort of see that coming, but I also thought I’d automatically make new mom friends. Moms are all over the damn place! It should be EASY! Nope. The whole “Mommy and Me” playgroups and things of that nature weren’t my style, but I’m told even that doesn’t make it much easier.
Even once Holden started school, while I was around the same Moms every single weekday, even with casual conversation, I couldn’t seem to click with anyone. In the three years Holden has been in school, I’ve made one friend, and one acquaintance. One because she saw the Holdin’ Holden bumper sticker on my vehicle and probably got it embedded in her brain enough to finally look up what the hell it was all about (she’s probably shaking her head right now that I’m wrong) and ended up moving away (super sad face) and one this year because our kids are in the same class and as shittastic as it is, I don’t know her name, and I doubt she knows mine. But we chat, so that counts, right?! Sigh…
Why is it so hard to make mom friends? I don’t think it’s the fear of approaching someone and not fitting in, but the fear of approaching someone and instantly being judged. It’s a different time than the one we grew up in. There’s not very many “it takes a village” villages left. People don’t give two shits about anything other than what you’re doing wrong. God forbid you punish your kid in public, or they throw a tantrum, or you snap ONE photo of their seat belt in the wrong position, you’re instantly labeled by random strangers as a shitty parent; some even going as far to say something to you (as if they have the right) or to call the authorities. It’s no wonder we crawl into a mom shell and just hope our highschool friends pop out crotchfruit so we don’t have to try to meet anyone new.
Let’s make it simple: If you see a mom sitting along with her kid day after day, just say hello. A simple hello can turn an entire day around. Making friends shouldn’t be so hard. These kids are going to be running our world one day, it’s probably for the best that we set a good example of being kind and reaching out to others.
Every. Single. Time. pic.twitter.com/aAAWWjdrN3
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.