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Old mom, new baby. Wanna be friends?



I seriously was going to post these exact words in one of the mommy facebook groups I’m on. My best friend quickly shut this plan down for fear I would look like a psycho creeper or some shit.


Truth is, making friends at this age and this stage of the game is freakin' hard. I'm in the weirdest of places.


Speaking of places, at the park the other day I met a sweet (young) mother with a baby strapped to her chest. She had another in the swing in front of her. I thought, okay cool, I’ll let the fact that she has a toddler go. She has a baby, Brie, take it.


Striking up a convo, I quickly learn that she has 2 others. At the playground. Totaling 4 kids under 5. Cherry on top? She was homeschooling the 5 year old.


After leaving, I voice gem my bestie to report back my latest finding in my quest for mommy kinship.

(Sidebar: Are you voice texting, iPhone users? Because if the answer is no, you are missing out on one of the greatest Apple features of all time. The end.)


Anyhoo, my bestie's voice gem'd response?

“That’s not your friend, Brie. Move along.”


Next!


What do I have in common with a fabulous, yet must-be-totally-fucking-insane mom extraordinaire that honestly I could never be? Even if I was a decade younger.


I am in such a different place in my life, in pretty much every way.

While our season of caring for similarly aged babies was shared, the rest of our lives really couldn’t look more different.


It’s wild to be here.

Where I’ve landed.


Remarried. 2 bonus kids. A new(ish) baby. At 42.


Which I don’t feel is really all that old…

However, finding others in a similar boat with a wee one? It's easy to feel lost at sea.


So many of my friends are past the baby age. They’re rocking their 40’s with their teenage dreams.


Or my 30 somethings are crushing the toddler or elementary times. Which if you know, is an entirely different animal next to my monkey.


Throw in the complexity of navigating the sea of a blended family business and you might as well sing, “one of these things is not like the other” over and over and over again until you're beating your head into the ground.


At times, despite having a full circus, I never felt more alone.

And despite having so much love and support from so, so many, I’ve often never been more lonely.


I’m sure this is also because of the challenges we’ve faced with Pen, as my most typical day is one filled with endless uncertainty, confusion and frustration. With everyone on her medical team (and their mothers) providing no further answers or understanding.


It's the type of stress that is guaranteed to feed my desire to shut down and hide.


I know that’s not what I need, however.

I need the hit of sharing some time with other like-minded mommies in their own grind.

Gimme that drug, all day, every day.... like, say in the form of a hotel room with a girlfriend filled with wine bottles and Cheetos.


It's always fascinating to me how much women in general seek connection, amiright? We live for it. Especially when we become mothers. Emotional, mental connection with others who just “get” us. Our mommy mates fuel us. Feed us. Nourish us. Keep us fucking sane.


And that feeling of being understood is something that just lights me up. Legit, Rockefellar Christmas tree style.


It.makes.me.glow.


So how do you find it again? At my age, in my situation?

Is it time for me to join some sort of knitting circle? A book club, perhaps?


Shoot me your ideas, especially the ones that include alcohol.


In the meantime, thank god for allll the babes I can call my friends.

Oh and thank god for voice texts with them.

That shit is therapy for the soul, I’m telling ya.


-B xo


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