... is more difficult than I thought. In my single years I was balls-out fearless. Point me in the direction of a man and I would approach him, ask him out, whatever. No problem. I do not feel threatened by men and have had male friends since I was a child with little conflict. Girls? Another story.
I lived in Los Angeles for seven years (minus a few holes) and have only met five girlfriends total. Five girlfriends that I socialize with once every couple months, talk to once every couple weeks, etc and ALL of them I have met through dudes. That's right, all of them. So, um, yeah, this whole trying-to-make-mom-friends thing has not been easy for me.
Our landlords live next door and are about to have a baby. This was one reason I was in love with our house. A local Mommy friend! I do have a close friend expecting but she lives in San Francisco. My only other Mommy friend is living in Japan. A bit of a swim, really.
Every morning I walk to Starbucks with Archer in hopes of meeting Ms. Right. I have met dozens of Mother child duos but none of them have been good enough. There was the obnoxious caked-on makeup Mom with WAY TOO MUCH USC pride. (Every time I see her, both her and her child are decked out head to toe in maroon and yellow. Ahem.) There was the woman who, when Archer was three weeks old, asked me what his favorite book was. When I stared blankly and answered, "Um. He's three weeks old. He could care less," she laughed and explained that HER son LOOOOOOOVED books since birth and how when he was three days old she took him to Borders and how he smiled and laughed and started reading Dr. Suess books right then and there because genius is unstoppable and on and on and...
"I guess my son is just slow then," I said.
"Too bad. Books are wonderful."
"Oh yeah? Well maybe I will try reading one some day, you fucking idiot." (I didn't really say that but I should have.
There was the woman who was shocked that Archer was not crawling yet because her daughter was crawling at, oh something like four-months. And yeah, she was talking at six-months as well.
"I guess my son is just slow then."
"That's too bad."
Some mothers have been too old.
"Wow, you look good for fifty-eight."
Some mothers have been too young.
"Seventeen? Oh cool! What highschool do you go to?"
Today I met a Mom, seemingly perfect and the most promising Mom friend I have met since Archer's birth. In one hour she did not confess that her child was brilliantly speaking ten languages at age one. She did not quote Dr. Sears' methods for healthy modern child-rearing. She was subtle, soft-spoken and as well as being a mother was someone I related to on other levels. A rare find, indeed. I was so nervous I kept tripping over my sentences, blanking on words like "pacifier" and pulling a Dumbass-Dubya -- reading Vogue upside down between bursts of introductory conversation. When she asked for my number before leaving I was so excited I dropped my pen three times.
Now for the first time in a very long while, I am waiting by the phone. Fingers crossed. This may be the one.