Making Friends As A Mom

I have never been a person who has had a hard time making friends. This is not me bragging—this is me stating my luck with being exposed to an array of remarkable people. But when I moved back to Southern California after a three-year jaunt North, I didn’t have a place to fit back into.

My friends had made new friends in the time I was away and those I was still close to were separated by miles of freeway and traffic. Furthermore, I left this place as rowdy, bar enthusiast and returned with a 16-month-old child and another one on the way. It was almost worse than moving to a new city, because I moved back with hopes and expectations of my glory days. Instead I was met with long, lonely periods and a desperation for adult conversation.

I tried making friends at the grocery store. It wasn’t the best idea. I felt like an awkward high schooler, trying to ask a pretty girl out to the prom. I met some very nice women, but I was unable to take the next step…unable to take it to the next level. Discussing Ergo’s and Gold Fish crackers were one thing but slipping her my number or inviting her out on a playdate seemed gauche in the checkout line of Target.

Following the dating trend, I decided to try the online route. I joined MeetUp and found that there were a few mom’s groups in my area that had just recently been started. I couldn’t face another day where the only person who talked to me was my two-year-old, who was in the phase of constantly asking, “Why?”

“Why are there clouds in the sky?” I would quickly Google the answer and nonchalantly explain the details of climatology to her.

“But why?” she would ask again. Her thirst for knowledge drove me to try something new.

The initial MeetUp that I attended was the first for the group and had attracted about 40 women with newborns to a small sheath of grass on the corner of a busy street. There were so many of us that it was impossible to meet anyone. We all stood there with our strollers and babies and tried to talk in groups but we didn’t stand a chance. It was uplifting to see how many other mom’s out there were as lonely as I was, but also sad because our sheer mass stopped us from making any meaningful connections.

The next group I tried was geared towards toddlers, my eldest child’s age group. This one was much smaller, the kids actually interacted with each other and I had some awkward but grownup exchanges with the other mothers.

There was no love at first sight—I didn’t spot my bestie across the playground feeding her child crackers off the ground or find someone who made a President Bartlet reference. But I followed through. And I went again. And again.

I’m not going to lie to you. There were some real dicks mixed in with the daisies. One woman, no exaggeration, told me, “My husband is disgusting. He’s fat and he’s gross. But I still have sex with him. But never without a condom.” Ordinarily I’m all for exposing the details, but you have to ease into it. And by the end of the (one-sided) conversation I really just felt sorry for her husband. She also lost her kid multiple times during the conversation, which didn’t inspire a lot of confidence.

The more I went, the more really nice women I met. And naturally we all started making connections to the people who we had the most in common with. It began small; play dates at the park which eventually lead to play dates at our various houses. The days of the week were soon filled with laughter and crafts, and the kids were having as much fun as the adults. One day it dawned on me: I had made real, long-lasting friends.

It is hard to describe the feeling that comes along with having people you can count on, that live close enough that they can become your support. I have had engaging conversations of vaccines, crying-it-out, Sea World, and time-outs. I have had (FREE) babysitters for doctor’s appointments, support for hard days, and commiseration about all of the shit that comes along with being a mother.

I am so lucky.

But this week, one of us is leaving. She asked the other day how people saw her. Was she the tidy one? The wild one? The one crazy one? Not any single description can cover the woman that is following her dreams and moving to Maui. She is truly one of a kind. Adventurous. Kind. Compassionate. Thoughtful. Just to name a few. She helped make my days full of laughter and camaraderie, of honesty and gentility.

I don’t know what my life would be like today if I had not gone out and tried something new, if I hadn’t pushed myself to make friends in a new (old) place. But I can guarantee to you it would much less interesting. I am thankful that I had the chance to get to know an amazing group of mothers. And though one of us leaving, we are sending her off on an adventure of a lifetime, to a place where I could use an excuse to visit.

Cheers, Barley. I’m gonna miss you.