Meeting Other Mommies
Every time I watch a sitcom, it seems like new mothers are signing up for Mommy & Me classes and are instantly included in a tight circle of diverse-yet-surprisingly-compatible gal pals. Excuse my French, but that's hooey.
Look around. Real mommies at the park don't sport hip clothes, haircuts or even makeup. But the ones on TV do, and while I know that no one really looks like that, sometimes I forget that no one acts like that, either. And no wonder: Those stories and that dialog are crafted by a small army of writers—most of whom are men!
In reality, it's tough for me to find mommy pals, especially since I'm not a natural "joiner." And this problem didn't just plague me early on; it's become a common theme throughout motherhood, just when I thought our theoretical solidarity would be at its strongest. I thought we'd all be out burning the maternal equivalent of bras—you know, Tickle Me Elmos and whining Mickey dolls.
But no. At times, I become so starved for satisfying adult contact that I get less picky. It's become second nature for me to hook up with whichever mommies are in front of me. I figure we'll hit it off in some way or another. But I always know that once soccer league is over, no matter how deeply we share on the sidelines during the season, we probably won't exchange holiday cards next year (even though I'll receive them from every doggone person I knew in high school!).
But by then I will have already moved on to someone new. Who knows? Maybe one day one of these mommy pals will stick the way they do on TV. Until then, I'll leave the insta-friendships to the sitcom scribes.