No one tells you that when you have kids, just how isolating it can be. No one ever tells you how much you will crave another human being in adult form. No one ever prepares you for the word vomit when someone over the age of 20 talks to you about anything remotely significant. Explaining why you are buying milk because your 3-year-old wanted cereal and you ran out of milk at bedtime the night before.
No one prepares you for the desire for a connection to someone else in your shoes. When you finally schedule that overdue massage and end up swapping horror stories about your 3 & 4 year-olds’ attitudes that morning. Even spending an extra half an hour after pick up time talking about things that have absolutely no relation to how your child’s day was with your daycare provider.
The thing is, I never really noticed this all before until recently when I would leave the children at home, with their father, while I ran someplace quick or when they were being exceptionally good while running errands. It’s far between moments, but I still find myself spewing anything and everything to any adult willing to lend an ear. It’s never about anything specific really, but I can spout off how great the 3-year-old is if someone comments on her speech quality; I can spew a million things that the 7-year-old is doing when someone mentions her intellect; I can relay the frustration of the teenager if someone notices an eye roll.
This does not stem because I’m a social person or feel the need to be around people, I’m far from it really. I think that somewhere along the line I lost touch with my friends. I lost touch either because I moved, went to college, got a job, got married, or I had another child. I had my eldest I was 17 years old and I took major advantage of my mother since I still lived at home. She would “babysit” whenever I needed, rather, I wanted her to. This allowed me to have a social life, to work nights, go to school, doing anything I wanted, anytime I wanted. Once I moved out on my own, I took a bit more responsibility, yet I still lived close enough to go out whenever. Fast forward a few more years — met wonderful guy, dated, got serious, moved to another city, got married, enjoyed marriage, got pregnant, he adopted my eldest, had baby, changed jobs, changed jobs again, had another baby, so on and so forth. Life changes; I get it.
I currently work full time and I’m a mother 24/7. I don’t participate in play dates or any mommy & me classes. Many of my friends don’t have kids or have grown kids — so there is no real possibility to connect someone that is ‘like me’. Sure, I get the interaction of work friends, I have never once felt that I had a “village.” All these factors give me such isolation that I might as well live in the mountains living off the grid, tempting!
With that, I struggle to simply live as a hermit, spending free time with my kids, telling myself facebook is “social interaction,” or putting myself out there and find people to connect and spend time with — all without going insane.