making friends

My last post was about my kids making friends, so it only feels natural to talk about how I’m making new friends too. Even though I should be on the lookout for some mom friends in our new suburban neighborhood, I’m actually not quite there yet. I’m not talking about face to face friends; my new pals have come via social media and my So-Called Mom message that I post out on Facebook and Instagram and Twitter and Youtube and the blog itself. When I started this a few months ago, I really had no expectations that anyone would follow me, much less respond. The happy discovery is that I’m not alone in my insane life as a mom, who’s just figuring it out day by day and most of the time, rowing with one oar. I’m finding myself in a daily dialogue with people I’ve never met, and slowly developing an unexpected and yet totally satisfying relationship with many of them.

Of course I’ll still always have my crazy girl group that I usually have a few too many cocktails with, albeit few and far between. But there is something magically honest (and somewhat addictive) about making friends with people who have watched you bawling in an empty tub with your clothes still on AND delivering a baby in a luxury hotel, and still want to converse with you.

One local mom reached out over the weekend and asked me out for coffee; another invited me to join her “mamapreneur” group; and of course, those invaluable moms that cheer me on and cheer me up: it’s all going to be OK, So-Called Mom—You got this! One asked where I was from: Portland, I said. And her response: I take it that means USA? How very So-Called American of me to assume she knew it was. I made a Craigslist joke, and she didn’t get it. We don’t have Craigslist here. Apparently, my so-called humor doesn’t translate as well as my So-Called Mom breakdowns do.

One mom asked me what the purpose of my blog was. I had to think about this, but I now know the answer: I just want to be relatable. I told her. That seemed like a good enough answer for the both of us.

In some strange way, I’m realizing that much of this interaction gets to the heart of what friendship means. And while I have certainly cursed the internet’s influence on my teens – and certainly see its dark side- I’m seeing the flip side of its allure: the honesty, the immediacy, the connections – the authenticity that social media invites.

I am discovering something about myself in this online mom blogging world: I love connecting with other moms. I don’t mind hearing I’m doing an OK job at momhood, and I also don’t mind hearing I’m doing it wrong. I’m not a women who needs to be told what she wants to hear. It keeps me real, both with myself and with my kids. It’s OK to fuck it all up and still wake up the next day and give it another go. Why the hell not? None of us is perfect. Knowing this alone makes me feel like I can take on the world.

Hitting it off,

So-Called Mom

Making friends is supposed to be easy when you’re a kid, right? Aren’t they hot-wired to just hang out and play, and then boom! You’re friends!

Well, apparently not in my house. Maybe I’ve made things way too cozy at home so no one really wants to leave it. Maybe my so called mom loving is just too seductive, too compelling, too…dare I say, safe. For some reason, after raising 6 kids for the past ten years, I’m only now confronting this question. The results are not pretty, as I try to get the youngest, Leopold, into some social situations so he can make some friends. And he’s not biting.

Our move to suburbia has made this glaringly obvious. And based on my first stab at getting him out there, it’s looking a whole lot like his lack of friends means a whole lot more to me than to him. He’s fine. But if I have anything to do with it, my anxiety will become his.

Ooops. This may go down as an epic fail.

First of all, my disclaimer: I had no idea just how much I was keeping my kids from building healthy relationships until now. I promise this was not intentional. But one side effect of keeping this blog, is I’ve become more self-reflective. And the truth is, I think I may have to admit that having other kids over to play in our previous (very small) house was just not part of the program. When you’ve got just barely enough room for the brood you have, adding more kids that aren’t yours is just never an option. It gave me hives to even think about having one child sleepover. Besides, other people’s kids bugged me. So I don’t know if it was lack of interest on their part, or I just subtly dissuaded any real connections.

Now that we have so much physical room, I’m discovering I also have the psychic room to invite more people into our family space. Of course, I get that I’m pretty late to the game, but better late than never, right?. So both Pippin and I are trying to recover lost time by drilling it into all of the kids—especially Leopold. But as per my usual, I over correct when I get my big ideas, so I’m probably not helping the situation. Friendship is not exactly something you can gerry-rig.

Look Leopold! There’s a little boy across the street. Go and say hi!

Let’s go to skate and play! How many friends do you think you’ll make today?

I signed you up for a million gymnastics classes! Have you met anyone yet? When are they coming over?

His reactions have gone from:

I’m going to make 11 friends to I’m really nervous to I’m not going to meet anyone.

But here’s the deal: maybe I’m trying too hard. Maybe in my zeal to make up for my “mistakes” and lost time, I forgot to have patience and faith that things are better when you get out of the way and just be.

So here’s what happened today. Despite my objections, Pippin went ahead and bought a small arsenal of Nerf guns—something he’s been calling “an investment”. And now I see why. Our kids spent the afternoon outside on the lawn on a rare Pacific Northwest day of sunshine, blasting each other. Before long, other kids from the neighborhood showed up, armed with their own weapons, looking to officially welcome our family the way that kids do.

Sometimes the best thing a So-Called Mom can do is to take herself out of the equation. It’s hard because we know our kids so well—but this can also be the very thing that holds them back. I know you all so well, that I impose what I think onto you and make you second guess yourself. It’s hard to admit that maybe, with all our best lovin’, we actually can make things worse.

Well Disposed,

So-Called Mom

My So-Called Friends

SO CALLED LIFE LESSON: shut up and get out of the way