To my old friends without kids,
Once upon a time, our friendships were easy. Just plain easy. Conversations flowed, we could get together whenever and wherever we wanted for however long. But things have changed. There are things I want you to know…
To my new friends without kids,
You, whom I met after I had children, you never knew me without the coffee obsession or the wide-eyed frazzled look that has taken up permanent residence on my face. So there are a few things I’d like you to know, as well….
To all my friends without kids, this is an inside look at what’s going on inside my mom brain.
I still desperately want to be my old “non-mom” self sometimes.
So don’t stop inviting me out for girls nights. Even though I haven’t been able to come to the last 24 of them, don’t stop inviting me. I need time away to be a “grown-up” and watch a non-animated movie, or drink a beverage that isn’t juice or milk. So don’t stop inviting me … I will be able to come … someday … maybe.
Babies and kids aren’t easy to take everywhere.
When I leave the house with the child, there’s not just the baby, but the diaper bag, the wipes, the bottles, the strollers, the band-AIDS, the diapers, the toys and all kinds of baby baggage. Sometimes just the effort of getting out of the house doesn’t feel worth what little energy I have left. So when you say, “just bring the baby” … well, it doesn’t quite work like that.
I’d love to hang out with you, but most times it’s easiest to do it at my place.
I will be able to relax and enjoy myself the most when I know the baby is in a safe, comfortable and familiar place. Home field has it’s advantages, my friends.
I want to be able to share pictures and stories of my child with you, and I want you to love it.
Or at least act as if you love it. We all have seen it — new moms blowing up our Facebook newsfeed with baby pictures. Well, dear friend, as a new mom, I am in (or have been in) a precarious state of emotions, so I want you to not just like it, but love it. As you know, my child quickly became the center of my world, pushing everything else just a little closer to the outer edge of my priority bubble. You are important to me and so is my baby. So I want you both to love each other.
I also want to be able to talk to you about things other than my kid.
Babies and kids are consuming. Basically an ever-expanding black hole of neediness. My time with you is my glimpse outside and beyond the black hole. I need to know there’s life outside my four walls continuing on normally without peanut butter smeared everywhere. Hearing about and discussing adult matters is good for my soul … not to mention my brain. (Because motherhood makes you stupid, my dear friend. It’s a proven fact.)
Friend, my life has been turned upside down because of these little people. But you’ve stuck by me despite my shift in priorities, even when you had no idea what’s going on inside this mom brain of mine. So to that, I thank you.