Disclaimer: I feasted on a heaping helping of nostalgia along with my tasty lunch yesterday, so this post is bound to have a Blast from the Past feel to it. Okay, you've received fair warning, so here goes...
Way back when I was a newly-minted, inexperienced, barely-keeping-my-head-above-water parent, I joined our local chapter of the Mom's Club. Derek was just 5 months old, not yet crawling (or doing much of anything, really, outside of the usual Baby Activities: sleeping, crying, demanding meals, protesting uncomfortable diapers, and such). I was soon placed in a Playgroup with other mothers whose children were of a similar age to Derek. Initially there were 8 adults, each with a munchkin ranging from 3 months to 10 months old. Obviously, the early "Playgroup" meetings involved a bunch of kids in carseats or on blankets, staring around the room at each other while we moms chatted, munched muffins, and sipped (or chugged, depending on how rough the previous night was) coffee. I'm not sure how much they got out of it, but we sure amused ourselves, and benefited from being able to ask each other questions ("yesterday he did such-and-such, has anyone else seen that yet? more importantly, is that normal?"), vent about the frustrations inherent in Life with a Newborn ("Haven't. Slept. In. D-A-Y-S!!!"), and share ridiculous stories about the behaviors of the small creatures in our care (many of which followed a theme of "Can you believe Susie ate/threw/spit up dog food/my cell phone/mashed peas?" Yeah, babies are precious, all right...)
Since we were all trying the Stay-at-Home Mom thing at that time, we greatly anticipated our weekly therapy--I mean Social Hours. (Yeah, yeah, the children are learning valuable interactive skills, blah, blah, blah...but Conversation with Actual Adults! Worth more than a paycheck, for sure!) As the tykes grew, our heartfelt girl-talks were punctuated by distractions such as: chasing the walkers, keeping the crawlers from being stepped on, preventing curious hair-pulling or exploratory eye-poking, feeding whoever got cranky, and enforcing toy-sharing. Over the months and years, each member in turn would announce that another kiddo was on the way, so we got to enjoy and support each others' pregnancies the second time around. Then the chaos grew exponentially, as the Wild Animals (I mean "our beloved offspring", of course) began outnumbering (and outyelling, and outrunning...) the Zookeepers. I'm not sure we ever succeeded in following a train of thought all the way to the end during that crazy period, but at least the kids entertained each other for a few priceless hours. Eventually the older siblings reached Preschool age, and Elementary School age, and a few of our close-knit tribe moved to distant locales. It became harder to get together, with all of the academics and sports and other extracurriculars that fill our busy lives...not to mention that whole "gender issue" that polarizes the former playmates these days (Imagine: 11-year old boys and girls just don't mingle with the same lighthearted, carefree abandon that they did when they were toddlers. I mean, Derek will not be pleased with me for mentioning this, but for heaven's sake, he used to unselfconsciously--happily, even--dress up in a fairy costume for games of make-believe with his Playgroup friends...Sorry, Sweetie!)
Therefore, our recently-scheduled sessions mostly involve the Moms getting together for coffee or ice cream (shhh! don't let that one slip to the kids, or we'll be in trouble!). These days, we still dish about what's new, exciting, or annoying about the children, but we also do a healthy amount of gossiping (totally positive and healthy comments only, naturally!) and catching up on each others' lives. (Since most of us have returned to some form of employment, at least part time, we actually have reclaimed a bit of our own existence...finally!) But we experienced a rare occurrence the other day: one of our re-located original members had returned to our hometown for a visit, and those of us who were available met for lunch at a local restaurant. There were 4 moms and 8 kids who have known each other for...almost 11 years. Wow. And even though we moms may have a few more wrinkles and gray hairs, and the kids are several FEET taller than they used to be, it felt like old times as we sat around eating and laughing and chattering. Besides which, it's an awesome feeling to know that these wonderful women, who have seen me frazzled, exhausted, and clothed in drool-stained sweats, are still around after all these years...and that now we are all fit to be seen in public! So here's to treasured friends, "lunch meetings", and the long-awaited, ultimate reward: getting to complete our conversations!
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