Mom dating

My tiny human sleeps through the night now, which means that I now have (kinda) the energy to go out and talk to other adults, but the question is who? And how?!

When I embarked on my quest to try to figure out how to mom (I’m still working on that), I found myself neglecting the relationships that I had spent the past 15 or so years building, and when I tried to jump back into them a year later, I found that I had changed.

To clarify, I still adore my girlfriends, and they will always be my people, but I have found that I need to add some new mom friends to my circle. For one, I don’t have the energy to stay out all night- or past 10:00, and also, while my girlfriends humor me, and don’t think they honestly give a shit about some of the mom worries that I have or the minor mom accomplishments that I make.

This means that I have found myself in a place that I never thought I would be again: dating- only now I’m mom dating. I’ve joined all of the neighborhood mom groups on Facebook trying to find other moms that might want to have a play date. I’m flirting with other moms at story time, wondering if it might be too forward to invite them to the park. And when I do come home from the park my husband jokingly asks if I have gotten any numbers. This is hard – harder than dating the first time around – I can’t swipe right trying to find the perfect mom match.


Things people say to pregnant people

It wasn’t too long ago that I got to experience the joys of being pregnant for the first time (ie: not fitting into your clothes, constant heartburn, nausea, suddenly hating your favorite foods); and while pregnancy is a beautiful and amazing thing (apparently), there was one part that I found to be more than a little annoying. During the ten months that you are sharing your body with another human, many women, myself included, experience a strange phenomenon in which other people, often total strangers, seem to think it is appropriate to make highly inappropriate comments about your body and your pregnancy. Below are a couple of the gems that I experienced.

  1. Work acquaintance walks up to me during a training-“I didn’t know you were pregnant,” looks down at my left hand, “Are you married?”

Me- “Um thanks, and no I’m not.”

WA- Gives me the most pitying look I have ever seen and says, “Oh, is the father in the picture?”

***Side note, I work in a rather professional setting, and this colleague is a well-educated human who just apparently never learned tact.

***Update, I recently ran into this woman and she asked if “the father” was still in the involved.

  1. Random guy in restaurant points to my stomach- “So you’re pregnant.”

Me- Gives him a weird look

RG-“Are you having a boy or a girl”

Me- “Um, boy”

RG- “Ha ha that means he was on top!!”

Me- “Uh…”

RG- “Ha ha, aren’t you glad it wasn’t doggy style?”

Me- Thinks to myself that this must be what happens when you are dropped on your head when you are a baby, feels sad for the man and walks away.

  1. Friend of friend- “You’re carrying so small, your baby is going to be a tiny mini!”

Me- Envisions her spontaneously combusting.

  1. Dustin- “Come on babe, waddle faster!”

Me- Wonders how hard it would be to be a single parent.

  1. *** This did not happen to me, but to a friend’s sister.

Random asshole walks up to her, looks at her boobs in an incredibly creepy manner and says, “Doesn’t look like you’re going to have any problem with breastfeeding.”

An Identity Lost

Mom, that’s what I’m called now- not by my kid, his grasp of the English language currently consists of random vowels being strung together, but by the rest of the world. Conversations that used to be filled with talk of politics and current events (let’s be real- gossip and work), are now filled with talk of breast feeding and poopy diapers. I find myself talking to practical strangers about how much weight our children have gained, maternity leave and at what age their kids started sleeping through the night.

I have a vague memory of having outside interests prior to getting pregnant. I have fleeting flashbacks of nights out with girlfriends and dinner and drinks downtown that lasted late into the night. These days, I’m still up at 2:00 AM on Saturday nights, but now it is to feed a hungry infant, not because of late night dance parties with friends.

I spent 30 years becoming the person that I was pre-baby, and it is a little hard to give that identity up. Adjusting to being responsible for a whole other person is not easy- it is no longer possible to take off for a weekend getaway on a whim, or even run out to get a pedicure, but the trade off is a constant supply of baby cuddles and 4 AM smiles. Do I sometimes miss the nights sitting outside with friends, a beer in hand? Absolutely. Would I trade what I have now to get those nights back? Never in a million years.