Mom Friends vs. Friends

Is there a difference between having friends who are moms and friends who are not moms? I use the term mom friend a lot when I write. I think it’s me subconsciously needing to specify the difference between a friend who has children and one who doesn’t. I don’t even know why I do this because I don’t care if you have zero, one, or five children. It’s not part of my friendship criteria.

I like my friends with a sense of humor, a little bit of crazy, and edgy with a side of brutal honesty. If you don’t fit those credentials, we might not end up getting along. Or you might not like me that much and we might just say hi and make small talk on the playground. That’s okay. I don’t feel like I need to be liked and accepted by everyone. You can’t win them all!

I’ll admit, sometimes it’s easier to hang out with other moms. Maybe that’s why I’m always making the distinction. We all have our issues, children or not, but moms get each other’s particular type and level of crazy. They usually don’t care if you’re late because your child swore fifty times that he didn’t have to go potty and then the minute you got out the door, he decided he needed to go potty. They don’t get offended if you forget to call. They would much rather text than talk anyway because most days that just takes way too much effort. They always apologize for their house being messy when it looks way more put together than yours. And real mom friends let you come over to hang out and don’t get angry when you decide to take a nap on their couch because…no child for a few hours.

I also really enjoy hanging out with friends who don’t have kids. Because the honest truth is that sometimes I don’t really want to be a mom.  When I hang out with these friends, I get to be more than Mason’s mom. I get to be the care-free, fun, still too honest girl I was before motherhood. I don’t spend the entire time talking about my kid or the color and texture of his latest poop. I don’t vent about how exhausted I am or how alone I sometimes feel. It’s almost like escaping from reality sometimes. Not that we don’t talk about my son at all or these friends don’t ask how he’s doing, but it’s also really nice to have some drinks, eat some nachos, play some trivia and talk about things that have nothing to do with motherhood, like how we can possibly wait a whole year until season 7 of Game of Thrones.

When I went to Campowerment last March, I met so many women who chose not to have children, women I now consider to be close friends. Sometimes women who don’t have any kids are constantly bombarded by the same questions and statements as women with only one child. When are you going to have a (another) baby? Are you sure you don’t want any (another) one? I’m sure you will change your mind. What do you parents think about that? And our responses are always the same too. “No, no, no I won’t, and I don’t give a fuck what other people think. It’s my decision.”  All these women who I met never felt the need to apologize for their choices and I found that so empowering and refreshing. I was able to be myself and more than just Mason’s mom with them.

I have both types of friends, but my inner circle of close girlfriends all just happen to be moms. These are moms who I knew before they were moms—who I went to college with and have seen at their best and worst moments. We all knew each other before motherhood jacked our lives and daily sanity and gave us this new normal where sometimes we go weeks or months without seeing each other. It’s also amazing to be embark on the journey of motherhood together, watch our children grow up, continue to be there for each other’s best and worst, and celebrate each other’s milestones during this stage of life.

I’m definitely not the girl who has millions of friends. I’m not so sure big group activities are even my scene. Intimate gatherings seem to be more my thing these days. And who really cares if someone has a child or not. I just want to be around women who support and celebrate one another and build each other up. I want my friends to “get me.” My close friends, moms or not, love me for me, that girl who “only just said out loud what you know you were thinking in your head at that moment.” That girl who isn’t afraid to put all her shit out there for everyone to read and see. I mean, duh! I have a blog, don’t I? I’m their medicated mommy friend who is imperfectly perfect, deeply flawed, gives zero fucks, and not ashamed to admit any of it.

I’m always looking for new members to add to my tribe. And it’s not always so easy to find your people. Or you find them and then they move away (which leaves me with conflicting emotions of “I totally understand why you left,” and “I’m so jealous you got to leave and go to a better place.”). So if you come with a kickass sense of humor, possess a pretty sharp edge, aren’t afraid to show your cray or tell me the awful truth, I think we might be destined to best friends (mom or non-mom, it doesn’t matter). And if we happen to meet on the playground, I’ll most likely be that mom sitting on the bench with the resting bitch face texting another mom friend how much I don’t enjoy the playground.   Yep, that’s me—silently cursing my child for only wanting to play in the nasty-ass, germ-infested sandbox (when there are 8 different kinds of slides), while I count the minutes until I can go home, pour a glass of wine, and convince my child that watching Doc McStuffins is so much more fun than playing airplane with mommy…because It’s been a long day and mommy is exhausted from sitting on the bench.

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