Back on the Scene

Motherhood is a strange land. From the beginning, I had to learn a foreign language: playdates, meetups, cognition, all of these were new words to me. I had a "baby shower" which is written here in quote because it was thrown by my fellow poor college students, involved liquor (not for me) and I forbade all eating baby food/fake dirty diaper/clothespin games. In fact, the only thing we had even slightly resembling a game was a "drop the kid" betting pool, with people throwing $5 on the date they thought I would go into labor (nobody won, I was induced). There was even one girl there who really classed up the joint by not speaking to me for a year but showing up for the cake with a bottle of dollar store baby wash in tow.

Wow, memories.

In truth, none of this mattered because I had saved up my waitressing money to buy everything from a breast pump to a diaper genie myself, and most of my friends stopped speaking to me when they found out I was pregnant. Really, nothing kills the buzz of a night of barhopping like a pregnant chick.

So, I entered the strange land of motherhood solo except for Mr. Edwards, and that suited me fine. I made new friends that did everything from grabbing coffee to babysitting, and I was happy. This all suited me fine. When we moved into a new apartment complex, I met Yubicela, who had a son my daughter's age. And she was my age. It was, in a word, awesome.

Then I moved. Suddenly, I'm solo again. Mr. Edwards goes to work, Yubi is up in Chicago, and I find myself back on the scene. And to be honest, I feel like a bit of a predator.

For instance, my strategy involves a basket of toys, which I happen to bring to the playground on the off chance that other kids will want to play with them, and their mothers will have to talk to me. I have learned a few things from this.

1. People who start families the "right" way and have a child my daughter's age are usually at least 8 years older than me. This means they've had careers, bought a house, and have been married for some time. We have very little in common on this front, and most conversations end when this little nugget is discovered.

2. If you are one of the people who don't start families the right way, most people in the first category find you very tacky, and immediately dislike you, and for some reason, your born-out-of-wedlock epitome of sin child. Which is kind of weird, cause really, disdain for a toddler?

3. There are always exceptions to these rules.

Meeting other mothers is a lot like dating. With all of the nervousness and none of the sex. For now, I think I've found a kindred soul at my local playground, but I think I'll wait til the 3rd "date" before I ask for her number.