It’s been 5 weeks now since Oliver made his entrance into the world, and those 5 weeks have mostly been spent at my breast in front of the television, or at my breast in the bedroom under a book, or at my breast while I try to fold laundry with one hand, the monotony of which is occasionally interrupted by a car ride to Tim Horton’s, and our weekly mommy meeting.
Our mommy meetings (The YMCA’s ‘Y’s Moms program that I’ve mentioned before) have been instrumental to my sanity thus far as it provides me with a hole room full of people to talk to other than Oliver and Das Piper.
At first I was so happy to have these people that if I were a puppy I would have wagged my tale so hard I fell over, then piddled on the floor. Not only were these other mothers PEOPLE TO TALK TO! But they were people to talk to who didn’t mind me talking at great length about my new favorite subject! They were people who would listen with actual interest as I went on and on about Oliver this and Oliver that. Best of all they were people who wouldn’t raise their eyebrows in disgust when I started talking about boobs and poop and barf.
Now I am, realizing the true cost of this opportunity. . . Having to smile and nod and talk to people that I would never ever in a million years put up with if it weren’t for the fact that our children are only weeks or days apart.
My usual blunt self would have absolutely no problem saying ‘Hey, you know what? We have nothing in common, you’re really boring/annoying, I don’t really want to be your friend.’ It’s not like our children are old enough to have any kind of awareness of, let alone relationship with each other. So why am I so hell bent on being nice to some of these women? It’s not like also being a mother automatically makes me their friend.
As Oliver grows up this problem will only get worse, as he grows I will no doubt find myself on sports sidelines, and parent comities, or in play groups with people that I absolutely cannot stand. And in a city this small I may end up on sports sidelines and parent comities and in play groups with many of these very women, most of whom I like just fine, but some of which annoy the shit out of me. How on earth am I going to deal with that? He’s only 5 weeks old and I am already having trouble. Am I just being a big baby for complaining about having to be nice and bite my tongue for once?