Mom-dating: Yes it’s a thing, and it’s awkward

Quick story. Yesterday I was at the jungle gym with Jace. He was playing with a cute little girl close to his age. Her mom and I started talking. Next thing you know, Jace runs off to push over the trash can and I run off after him. That was the end of our conversation. Pretty normal occurrence in toddlerhood. Fast-forward 30 minutes, Jace and I are playing basketball and the mom comes up to me and says “I don’t mean to sound creepy, but I don’t have many mom friends. Could I get your number?” uh, yes! That doesn’t sound creepy, and I’m glad you asked because I didn’t have the guts to ask for another woman’s digits. (side note- Jace then threw a toy at her daughter, and she started hysterically crying. That little rug-rat nearly ruined it for me!) This is now the world I’m living in. It’s more nerve-wracking than actually dating. It’s mom-dating.

Before I became a mom, I had a ton of friends, and I never had to awkwardly ask for their number like it was some sort of pick-up line. But then you become a mom, and all those old friends are going out to happy hour, and you’re sitting on the couch having conversations with a tiny human that only knows how to burp and poop. You immediately start googling “Mom’s Club”, “Moms in my neighborhood”, “Mommy group”. If it wasn’t for the mommy group I found in LA, I would have had zero mom friends.

So that becomes the hard part, how do you find these friends? To be honest, my husband is a lot better at it than me. He’s found all my friends in our new neighborhood. (Ya I know, I used to be the social one.)

He met a cute couple a few weeks ago with a son around Jace’s age. They exchanged numbers, and we’ve been trying to get together ever since. This past Sunday Mario was out of town, and this new friend Matt asks Mario to meet up at the splash pad. (The splash pad is like the parents version of happy hour.) Mario was out of town, and this is our actual text conversation.

Mario: “Kris, Matt and Jill texted us to come to the splash pad. You need to go.”

Me: “I can’t. The British Open is on, and Spieth just hit it under a trailer!”

Mario: “I don’t care. If we don’t go, they’ll think we don’t like them, and they’ll never invite us again!”

Me: “Ugh, fine.”

Mario’s right. That how I ended most of my relationship with guys in college. I just made excuses for why I couldn’t go out. I had to suck it up and go to the splash pad. But I started thinking, what kind of people want to leave the house when Spieth is making this epic comeback? Do they not like sports? We will have nothing in common!

Luckily, the wife texts and says they will be an hour late because the hubby is watching golf. Whew! Crisis averted. We can still be friends.

So we go to the splash pad. Remember, I’ve never met these people. So this is a like a blind date in bathing suits with my overactive kid in tow. And just like a blind date, you start wondering if you’ll have anything in common. Is she one of those super organic moms? Is she going to hate me because my kid eats goldfish off the ground? Is she a stay-at-home mom? Is she going to judge me because I travel every weekend for work? Should I tell her my son doesn’t have the plague, and that his hand only looks like that because he stuck it in an ant hill? Is she going to report me to CPS because my son stuck his hand in an ant hill?  I take it back, it’s worse than actual dating.

I pull up to the splash pad in the cutest swimsuit I own (and Jace’s too. You’re sidekick has to look just as cute.)  I meet Matt and Jill. They’ve got a Yeti cooler in tow. Jill turns to me and says, “I brought beverages, Would you like a glass of wine?” Needless to say, we’re now best friends.

My whole point is this: it’s not easy making mom-friends. At times it can feel super awkward and almost like a chore. Unfortunately, they don’t have Tinder for moms. After I typed that, I can’t decide is that’s a brilliant idea or flat out creepy.

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