Why I love my Mom's Group

I grew up never wanting to be a mom. Never wanting to be married. I was going to be a stylish and successful island, dammit.

And then I became a mom. Pretty suddenly and without any kind of planning. And for the first time in my life I knew what it was to love. And that made me kind of want a husband. I know that’s backwards, but I would be the last to claim that I do things the “right way.”

And since one cannot magically make a husband appear, I did the next best thing, I went to grad school…where I met my husband, so check that off the to-do list.  

I remember, when my oldest was less than 6 months old I was in a conversation, possibly at church, with a group of other moms. And they were talking about mom stuff. I was so far out of my league. They were talking about how as “Kaden’s mom,” and “Julia’s mom,” helping in the classroom is fun. I said, “No way will I ever be known as my daughter’s mom and not by my own name, and I’m pretty sure I’d die before I’d become a homeroom PTO mom.” Yes, I said this out loud, all judgy like. I had just belittled these beautiful ladies’ existence and current identities. One of the mothers graciously responded that I would not have a choice to be known as my daughter’s mom instead of my own name; that this would come naturally once my daughter started school.

From this point on, I avoided other moms. They were weird. They wanted to lose their identity in their tiny squirmy offspring. I had no idea what I would say to another mom. They had different priorities than me. I just wanted to figure out how to remain stylish, get success, and do right by my daughter.

Fast forward 10 years. I’m still not a PTO member. I still have no idea how to navigate other school moms and I volunteer in my daughter’s classroom as little as I possibly can, but I have this beautiful amazing group of mom friends. They bring me sanity.

One of my best friends, who I met before she had her own children, goes to this church that frankly, is a little too conservative for my taste. But it’s a church that loves well. She now has two gorgeous children that are about the same age as my two younger children. She started inviting me to her moms group. I said, “Um no, I’m not really into that” (you know moms, and Christian moms who are even worse. Not to confuse you, I am a Christian, but the moderate-to-liberal kind). Conservative Christian moms might be the thing on this green earth that I am the most afraid of. Let’s call it bad history and overexposure.

My dear friend kept inviting me. Even though our littles were the same age and we lived 15 minutes away from each other, we barely saw each other. This made me sad.

It was winter time and I was getting cabin fever. My friend called and said her mom group was having an open gym for preschoolers. This sounded scary and yet necessary.

We left the house. We drove to her church in the middle of the city, blocks from where I used to live when I was in grad school. We walked inside. And I don’t remember much from that point because I was totally sleep deprived with my infant at the time, but no one gave me side eye, they did not appear judgy in any way. I got brave and talked to a few moms besides my friend.

Don’t get me wrong, I am used to being the odd one out, the new girl in the room. I’m good at trying new things. I’m just not good at making friends with moms. It’s been over a year now. And these ladies have slowly and effortlessly, become my people.

These Christian moms are gracious and don’t bat an eye when I use swear words because I deeply love to use swear words. They are not the least bit offended when I don’t agree with them, and best of all, there was never any pressure that I had to be friends with them.

I realized today, when driving home from another preschool open gym, that I love every single one of these ladies. They are all so different from each other and there is no compulsion to parent like the other one parents or to look or act like the other one looks or acts. We all have our strengths and we all suck at some things. And for this, we are the body of Christ.

And ladies, thank you for your love and acceptance of me. Thank you for teaching me that it’s ok to be me and to parent like I parent. Thank you for your listening ears, for openly and honestly sharing your trials with not finding you-time, and coordinating busy schedules and communication with your husbands, and potty training (ugh, potty training!). And asking together, where is God in all of this?

Without you I would still be afraid of my fellow moms. I would have barely any mom-friends and my children would be lonely and I would be lonely. Thank you for being the body of Christ to me.