Adventures in Motherhood

location: Home

mood: depressed

Normally, I like to write about thoughts on motherhood.  Today though I'm feeling a bit glum and a tad bit lonesome.  So here comes a somewhat sad post.

Today I met my mom friend Laura and her son Andy at the Burlington Mall with the intention of walking a bit, catching up a bit, and giving her some boxes to help her with packing.  Laura is moving to North Carolina.  I'm happy for her ... sort of.  She and her husband Peter want to be able to buy a house, and the Boston-area is too darned expensive for most people our age (25-35 years, roughly).  So-called "starter" homes are priced at $500K on average, though I have seen prices dropping into the 400s.  So I'm happy that Laura and Peter have found a way to move to a more affordable part of the country.  I'm not happy to be losing a friend.  Yes, we can stay in touch (e-mail and blog and stuff), but it's not like we can get together on a regular basis to share mom struggles and whatnot.  Motherhood really is lonely at times, so I'm sorry to see her go even though I think she will be really happy in North Carolina.  Anyway, we did walk and talk, and I did give her boxes, which she was happy about.  When I got home, I just felt a bit glum, even though I knew we had dinner plans with a former classmate of mine.

I suppose I might not be as bothered by Laura's moving if I didn't feel like most of my friends move away or have major life changes and become less available just when I start to get comfortable.  Another couple moved to the Cleveland area a while back, and I try to talk to the wife once a week or at least two times a month.  Still, it's not the same as grabbing coffee spontaneously.  Friends that Aaron and I made through one of Aaron's college buddies moved from Cambridge to Hingham.  Cambridge is a 15-minute drive from us, and Hingham is more like 45 minutes (and not an easy 45 minutes) on a Sunday with no traffic.  Ironically, the wife of this couple now works at Harvard (in Cambridge), but I still don't see her because she is super-busy and rather sick these days.  I feel awful that I can't find a way to visit my sick friend, but I'm lucky if I can find her at the office. *sigh*  Other friends of ours, who signed our marriage contract 5 years ago, who lent us poles to hold our wedding canopy, who helped us to feel at home in Boston when we first moved here, well - they won custody of the husband's 2 daughters from his first marriage, and life hasn't been the same since.  Having custody of the daughters is fantastic for them, truly it is!  I'm really happy for them, and I know the daughters are in a good environment.  These friends live about 3 miles from us, if that.  We've been trying to schedule a meal together for a few weeks now, and I had a lovely phone conversation with the wife.  No luck yet on a meal date/time, and I miss my friends.

Part of me thinks I should find a way to meet other couples with young kids, but part of me feels like I've been doing that and just not finding the right match.  It's like dating, which I never was very good at.  I get along with lots of people, and we invite new people over somewhat regularly.  But then we aren't invited out by those we invited.  I keep telling myself that everyone is busy, and that it's harder with a baby.  At the same time, I know that others must be looking for friends if I'm itching for company.

Another part of me is scared to look for yet more friends.  I feel like I have a bad track record.  It's a bit like when you meet a guy who doesn't speak to any of his ex-girlfriends because he says they are all psycho.  It's possible that some of the ex's are psycho, but it's not likely that ALL of the ex's are psycho.  I try to speak to my friends who have left the area, and I try to stay in touch, but somehow we lose touch.  It's possible that some of my friends get too busy, but it's not likely that they all got too busy, right?  *sigh*  I fear that my losing touch with friends will scream that people shouldn't give me a chance as a friend.

As you might have guessed, I was never one of the cool kids.  Maybe if I had been a cool kid, I would have a bit more confidence about my ability
to make and keep friends.  Of course, maybe if I had a bit more confidence about myself, I would have been a cool kid.  *sigh*  All this is to say that I feel very insecure about most (if not all) of my friendships.  I value them tremendously - my friends keep me sane and are wonderful, good people.  I don't think I have the words to describe how important my friends are to me.  Yet I feel like I could lose any of them at the drop of a hat, with a wrong word or action.

I already can hear people telling me to talk to a therapist... yes, yes, I know.  I'll bring it up next time I'm in his office.