This is a huge development in my world because prior to kids, my goal oriented, Type A personality was well suited for an Engineering career dominated by men. I may have had a few close friends growing up, but something always happened to derail those friendships. People have a fascinating way of putting their best feet forward, then do a 180 when they can no longer keep up with the charade. Like Holden Caulfield, my disdain for the "phonies" kept me at bay from really connecting with people.
I've always been a take-it-or-leave-it kind of person. I'm strong. Independent. Self-sufficient. (Hear the roaring in the background?) I may have scared a few folks away with my strong, outgoing
However, when the mind-bending event of motherhood overtook my life, I was left drowning in a stormy sea with no life raft. Merely a few broken pieces of deadwood to hang on to while I scraped by to keep it together. It's been seven years, and I still look on with envy at the "other moms" who met at a park and remained friends since their firstborns were babies. I stare wistfully and lament that I don't have sidewalks or neighbors with kids that drift easily in and out of each other's houses.
Make no mistake. I was not a wallflower waiting for someone to ask me to dance. I was active. I was the President of a MOMS Club, a playgroup coordinator, newsletter editor, cheerleader, lactivist. I did it all. Perhaps I was too good. I'm reminded of the story of a beautiful girl who ended up staying home for the prom. She was so attractive that no one had the courage to ask her out. In the end, NO ONE asked her out. In the same way, maybe my strong, "got-it-together" exterior has led many to think I don't need company or help. Ahhhh, the irony.
So when I got a call from a mom of one of my son's classmates, I was happy but not holding my breath. A playdate might lead to something more, but I was not going to get my hopes up. I was so used to being on the other end of that phone line, asking about a playdate or meeting at a park, hoping I didn't sound desperate or crazy.
Like the teenaged orphan that is no longer cute, I feared that people would think something was wrong with me because I have older kids and still suffer from loneliness. Between mamas going back to work, moving out of state or having kids at different ages and stages of life, my mama friendships never grew past the cordial greeting or Facebook post.
Even though it sounded cliche, I was "just about to call her" and told her such when she beat me to the punch.
Thank goodness the boys were such good friends because they demanded playdates. I knew I found "the one" when "his mom" talked more than I did and unflinchingly told me about how hard it was to find playmates and the isolation that she felt as a result. I was tempted to kiss her feet and burst into tears, but I held it just long enough so that she would not run for the door.
Like the rejected class nerd that has sudden popularity, I struggle with thoughts that this too, will not last. Maybe next year, she'll move, get a job, pick her nose, or find something else better to do than to just hang with me (and my kids...) At the risk of another broken heart, I'm plunging forward, enjoying our time while it lasts.
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