, , , , , ,

It wasn’t until I had Cora that I finally understood why moms wanted to join play groups for kiddos.  The opportunity to sit around with other moms and chat started sounding really appealing.  Sure, I have mom friends that I can talk to, have wine with, but unfortunately most of my friends have older kiddos.  They are ones that used to come to me, when I had the oldest in the group but now roles are reversed.  They no longer want to talk about late nights, sleep regression and why the hell my baby hates food.  They have moved on to elite sports, 5th grade homework, and school bullies. Sure, we can still swap stories but we are still in two different worlds.

My Husband and I recently went to a 2 year olds birthday party that changed my mind all over again.  We sat in a room of virtual strangers, my baby being the second to youngest child in the room.  Mostly moms, my Husband the only lingering Dad.  I watched children converse with my child and it was different from watching her play with her friends at daycare.  Kind of funny.  Interesting to watch who she took to and who she didn’t.  I noticed how different my baby was compared to others, in a good way.  Not saying she is better or they are better, just different.

The moms seemed to naturally come together, chatting, and sharing stories.  I couldn’t quite find myself comfortable enough to join their conversation.  They asked a few questions but my answers didn’t feel up to par for them.  Mean while, my 9 month old sat at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at something she had never seen before and started climbing, my Husband a few feet away, leaning against the wall, watching.  One mom looked at me in horror, questioning my child climbing stairs without us two inches from her.  My answer “She has strange climbing habits we encourage.  She will figure it out or one of us will catch her.  There is carpet.”  Basically we know what she is capable of.  She was fine.

Silence from them all.

Two points against me.

The one mom held her baby tighter like I might put her up a flag pole next. My baby made it to the second floor and turned around to wave at us, so proud and yelled out “Dada!”  My Husband went up to teach her how to come back down the steps backwards.

How do you  possible leave her to go to the gym? How is her schedule? You know, your husband can go into the other room and hang out with the other men, right?  Does your baby actually answer to her name?

So many questions kept coming. I felt like I was being rated. What the fuck do you mean does she answer to her name? Is there wine here?

My Husband later pointed out to me they weren’t quite my type.  Okay, that makes sense.  Just because you are a mom doesn’t mean you are my type of mom to hang out with.  Just like you may not be the person I want to get drunk with in Mexico or you may not find my planking contests, while taking shots, on the boat, to be amusing.  So maybe we can’t all be friends because we are raising a child of similar age.  Why didn’t this cross my mind before hand?

So I’ll stick with my friends to drink with.  They don’t seem to mind that I come out in public with a baby strapped to me 50% of the time.  The other 50% is because she has a Dad who is cool parenting her as well and doesn’t just reside himself to the men’s area of the house.  Plus, making friends as an adult is hard work.

Have you found a mommy group that fits you?