When our little ones were just toddlers, there were around six to eight of us. We gathered at Melissa’s house every Monday morning, kids in tow — the littlest ones in our arms or just starting to walk, while the older, homeschooled kids dashed up and down the stairs, showing the toddlers how to conquer the baby gate.
Each of us brought a dish to share. The most popular mom always came with a tray of chicken nuggets. We indulged in cake, cheese, and sweet tea while chatting away. Melissa even taught one of the moms how to nurse while lying on her side, helping her grab a few precious hours of sleep. We all shared tips on babywearing and discussed co-sleeping and feeding, nurturing each other’s little ones. It was a genuine mom community.
But then Melissa moved, and everything changed.
I used to connect with some moms from my local babywearing group, but as I stopped wearing my baby as much and my 5-year-old son faced discipline issues during meetings, I gradually withdrew. That was tough — especially since we had supported each other through the loss of one mom’s daughter. However, when the petty Facebook threads began to emerge, I made my exit.
Now, I find myself without a true mom community, and it’s frustrating.
That doesn’t mean I lack mom friends. I have plenty! One loves kayaking and hiking, another is a fellow writer, one always knows how to make me laugh, and there’s one friendship that has endured through thick and thin. I also know a handful of homeschooling moms, but I often feel out of place with those who are constantly juggling their busy schedules. The moms in one co-op are super sweet but seem to be overly focused on seeing Christ in me. We just don’t share much in common, and their busyness is overwhelming.
Three of my closest mom friends, including my best friend, have moved away in the last year and a half. The last one just relocated to Ohio; she was one of the few I could call for a quick Target run. Now, I only have one mom friend available for that. We used to go in groups, enjoying each other’s company more than shopping. Now, I find myself at the store alone with my kids, which is a much crankier and noisier experience. I buy fewer cute clothes that I might have loved, spend less at Starbucks, and I certainly can’t browse the makeup aisles anymore. My kids just aren’t interested in clearance deals.
What I miss most, though, is the support and advice. A vibrant mom community, like the one we had with Melissa, is invaluable for gauging what’s “normal” in child development. Is it typical for a 6-year-old to throw tantrums? When is it time to retire the cloth diapers and start potty training my 3-year-old? I crave validation that my 5-year-old can’t yet recognize his letters and that my 6-year-old still struggles with tying his shoes. I also want to hear how well they’re doing, how caring they are towards each other. I miss the encouragement and advice that comes from being part of a tribe.
The internet offers some support. I’m part of a fierce group of moms who uplift one another and answer questions, but it lacks the personal touch of playdates or nights out. The screen is a barrier, no matter how much we care for one another, and it can feel both like a blessing and a curse.
Creating a mom community isn’t something you can force; it either happens organically or it doesn’t. I find myself just being nice to everyone, trying to avoid drama, and hoping that a community will form around me, like a storm gathering strength. Whether you’re formula feeding, co-sleeping, using disposable diapers, or exploring various schooling options, I’m open to anyone who can hang out at Target.
In this journey of motherhood, we need our tribes to share experiences, advice, and laughter. If you’re looking for more information on home insemination, check out this insightful blog post, and for those interested in the practical aspects, Make a Mom is a fantastic resource. You can also explore Kindbody for valuable insights on pregnancy and home insemination.
To summarize, while I have mom friends, I long for a deeper, more connected community of mothers to share the ups and downs of parenting. It’s a unique bond that’s hard to replace, and I hope to find it again soon.