Helicopter mom. Snack mom. Crunchy organic mom. Wine mom. Hot mess mom. So many types of moms. How does one find her mom bestie in a sea of women? Especially in a sea of those who all believe the way they delivered and are raising their “LO” is the best way (“Little one,” according to the “I read all the mom blogs mom”).
I recently met my childhood best friend in Miami for a girls’ weekend sans kids. Her daughter just turned 1, and it was the first time she was away from her. She was in need of a damn drink (or 10). We drank champagne on the beach all day and had a dance party in our room the rest of the night. It was perfect and just what she needed. The next evening at happy hour she opened up about how lonely she is since becoming a new mother. Pre-baby, she had a vibrant social life and a slew of good friends. She was in dire need of a mom friend to commiserate and have cocktails with. Let me be clear, no matter what kind of mom you are, you need mom friends. Because no matter how close you are with someone, if you birth a human and your friend has not, they simply will not understand the complicated and multi-layered life you now have.
After a few glasses of bubbly, she pulls out her phone and opens up Peanut, a mom friending app, where she had created a profile but had not checked on it since (truly, they have apps for everything today — it blows my mind!). And behold, she had three unread messages! We were ecstatic, and of course, I wanted to personally respond to all of them extremely inappropriately to make sure her potential new mom-mates had a sense of humor. She smartly would not let me near her phone. But she did get a few “dates” set up, and we’re hopeful she’ll meet a potential match.
It’s just like being in the dating world again, on a totally different level. Will she like me? Should I filter myself a little the first time so I don’t scare her off? Is her kid an asshole? What if she thinks my kid is an asshole?
I thought finding my mom friends would be challenging due to the fact that A) I drink vodka, not wine (less sugar = no hangover) B) I swear like a sailor and C) I am the polar opposite of a helicopter mom or germaphobe. In fact, if my kid isn’t choking, drowning or at risk of death I’m pretty cool with it. Maybe “pretty cool with it” is just my type of mom-ing.
I don’t think anyone is the “right” type of mom, though, definitely not myself. I believe it’s just about finding other moms who are similar enough in parenting style and who accept you for all your inevitable mom fails. Many, many mom fails.
I let my kids jump off things that are probably too high. I let them eat snacks off the floor — good for the immune system, I say. I’m SO far from being a perfect mom, but I love them with every single ounce of my being. And that’s what ties all of us different moms together. No matter the type of parent you are, we all love our little assholes to death. And we can certainly find common ground in that.
Mom-ing is hard. It’s by far the toughest thing I’ve ever done. It’s made easier having women in your life who can relate, who can laugh with you at the crazy times, cry with you at the scary times, and be with you on the nights it just all seems too overwhelming. We are all doing our best, some days thinking, “Yes, I’ve got this” and others, “I have no clue what the hell I’m doing.”
Put yourself out there, try not to judge, and most certainly bring the wine (or vodka). Now get out there and get your mom game on.
