My attempts at making more mom friends still are failing miserably. At this point, I’d probably try an online “matchmaking” site for women with children who are looking to befriend other women with children. Sort of like eHarmony, but with sippy cups and strollers. Actually, that sounds like a great idea because then I’d get to be very picky with my criteria, thus reducing the chances I’d get “matched up” with another mom I have absolutely nothing in common with, which has kind of been my problem so far.
It’s not that I haven’t met other mothers; it’s just that they haven’t been “my type.” My most disastrous encounter so far has been with a group of women who belong to one of the Savannah-based social-media forums I used to take part in. They were the all-natural hippie type, which I thought was fine because I’d always heard that those people are very “go with the flow” and accepting of others. Plus, I’m down with the whole gentle-parenting movement. I shun preservatives and the cry-it-out method just as much as the next gal.
After awhile, though, I began to feel judged for a variety of choices that I didn’t think were too egregious. Unbeknownst to me, it is apparently not good mommy form to rely regularly on modern-day health-care advances such as medical doctors, hospitals and vaccines. Nor is it a good idea to take advantage of conveniences like disposable diapers or clothes dryers.
Since my homeowners’ association has strict guidelines about not hanging clotheslines in yards, I knew I’d never fit in with that crowd, and so I moved on.
I almost became friends one time with the mom of another little girl who was in my daughter’s class at daycare. We’d met previously through a mutual friend and chatted when we bumped into one another at daycare. We began social-media and email exchanges. I liked this other mom quite a bit. She was about my age, had a daughter the same age as mine, seemed educated and intelligent, and she didn’t live too far from me. Right when I thought it might be OK to suggest getting together, though, the other mom threw her daughter a birthday party and did not invite my daughter or me. I saw photos of the party via social-media and immediately felt hurt. Then I felt a little embarrassed that I’d been more enthusiastic about getting to know her than she’d been about getting to know me, so I ceased all communication when my little girl started attending a new daycare.
Another time, my daughter, Reese, and I were at a park near my house on a Sunday afternoon. Lots of toddlers
Reese’s age were running around, and the mother of one little girl approached me. I immediately recognized her as my dental hygienist. We’d always chatted during my dental appointments about the fact we had girls the same age. We’d compare notes and laugh about little mishaps, so it was a delight to bump into her. We chatted some more while our daughters played, and I learned we had even more in common than I realized.
I thought about asking for her number or email address so we could plan an outing or a playdate sometime, but I worried she’d think it was an odd request. After the birthday-party dis, the last thing I want to be seen as is overzealous, so I chickened out. When we left the park, I just told her I’d see her soon at the dentist’s office.
Just when I thought I was destined to continue my foray into motherhood sans companions, I happened upon another online networking site and found a group formed by moms who live near me. I joined and saw the ladies in the group were planning a dinner and playdate excursion soon. I marked the date on my calendar and began to look forward to meeting other mothers who live in my neighborhood. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.
On the night of the outing, Reese and I were the only mother/daughter duo to show up. No one else came, despite the fact that many group members had said they’d be attending. I realized we’d been “stood up,” so we ate our food quickly and went home.
Now I really do think I’m destined to go it alone. However, I saw a faint glimmer of hope recently when my next-door neighbors moved out of the house they’d been renting. I saw the landlord there, fixing things up and putting a “for rent” sign in the front yard. I thought about asking if I could help him write a newspaper ad for the rental.
Maybe something like, “House for rent in nice Savannah suburb, great for a couple in their mid-30s with no more than one child, preferably a girl age 2 or younger. Mother of child must participate in regular playdates with neighboring family, enjoy drinking wine and cooking, have a good Midwestern work ethic and be focused on her career, hate malls and shopping, find messy houses acceptable, be addicted to Law and Order reruns, think a lot about exercise without actually partaking in it, admit that her husband is occasionally annoying and have a great sense of humor.”
So, basically, I hope my clone moves in next door. Hey, I said I wanted to be very picky, didn’t I?