As a few of you may
have noticed, I haven’t blogged lately. I’ve been swamped with work, trying to
finish one novel and edit another, and honestly, I just haven’t had much worth
saying. But today, I do.
Today, I attended my
last meeting of a particular group for stay at home moms that I joined back in
2009. The meeting wasn’t monumental by any noticeable standards. We ate brunch,
we talked, and we colored (yes, you read that right). But for me, it marked the
end of an era.
I joined this group
as a brand new stay at home mom. I had one insanely wild one-year old and no
clue what I was doing. I left a 60 hour a week job to stay at home with her and
was surprised to find not working full time to be significantly more
exhausting and overwhelming than working. My new pint-sized boss had not read
the Fair Labor Standards Act, didn’t allow me lunch breaks and refused to even let
me pee alone. I came to my first meeting thinking she needed to socialize. As
it turned out, I did too.
I’m no longer a new
mom. Now, I’m old and experienced, but every bit as exhausted overwhelmed and
clueless as I was 9 years ago. As much as I’ve loved this group, it is time for
me to move on and let today’s newbies experience the bliss that you find when
you arrive at these meetings and eat food you did not cook while other people
watch your children. If you do not understand why I describe that experience as
blissful, you are likely not a new mom.
Over the years, the
ladies composing this group have changed. Many “graduated” as their children
reached school-age. Others moved. New moms joined. Despite the different faces
from year to year, the group stayed the same. These ladies saw me through three
rough pregnancies and two premature deliveries. They cooked for my family when
I was in the hospital, texted me during NICU stays, and diagnosed random
toddler rashes via emailed pictures. These are the moms who didn’t judge me
when I refused to wear maternity clothes until long after outgrowing my normal
clothes…or when I subsequently kept wearing the maternity clothes as my
youngest turned one. These moms understood you could be busy all day and yet never accomplish a single measurable thing. These are the moms that recommended good devotionals for preschoolers, shared recipes for lactation cookies, and dragged me out of the house to see 50 Shades at the theater.
We’ve laughed
together, prayed together and cried together more times than I can count. We’ve
welcomed dozens upon dozens of new babies as a group, but we’ve also attended
funerals together, and we've supported members through cancer, job-loss, and divorce.
Some of the moms I’ve met through this group will be friends for life. Others I
may not recognize in a few years. But collectively, they’ve all touched my life
in a pretty significant way. They helped me be the best mom I could be.
As Mother’s Day
approaches, I hope that every mom has this—her own special mommy tribe. Every
new mom needs a friend or two who will listen to her describe the contents of
her newborn’s diaper when she’s worried about a dairy intolerance. Every
toddler mom needs someone who will bring her wine and gummy bears after her
child grabs a bottle off the shelf at Target and throws it, causing the
contents to explode all over the store—and all over multiple strangers. Every
kindergarten mom needs friends who understand how she can be so annoyed all
summer at her child’s behavior, then sob the second the yellow bus drives off.
Motherhood can be so isolating, but the more moms I
meet, the more I realize how much we all have in common. Happy Mother’s Day to
all my mommy friends out there, and thanks for being a part of my mothering
adventure!
