Mom Friends Are the Best Friends - Her View From Home (2024)

Growing up, it was extremely difficult for me to make friends. I wasn’t smart enough for the smart kids, athletic enough for the athletic kids, talented enough for the talented kids, cool enough for the cool kids, or pretty enough for the pretty kids. I never exactly fit anywhere. I was able to make a few close friends, most of whom are still acquaintances 20-something years later, but after falling prey to some mean girls who I naively trusted in early high school, I was never really able to allow myself to open up and be me, especially around girls....

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They say it takes a village to raise children. That all moms need the support of a group. That you’re bound to feel overwhelmed and lonely when you’re doing this child-rearing thing alone, with just your husband or partner in this life. Though the message is definitely true, the emphasis that rests on it makes it a little dangerous. Because what if that’s not the card you’re dealt? What if you don’t have your own parents to fall back on? A best friend who is there whenever you call?What if your village doesn’t exist?What if it really is “just” you...

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Tears streamed down my face as I pressed my hand into my best friend’s chest. The sheer terror and adrenaline alone should have done the trick. “MAKE HER BREATHE,” I shouted to my husband. His eyes held no answer. I watched him attempt mouth-to-mouth. I knew CPR too, I could have done it. I could have dialed 911, I knew the digits to press. But there I was, frozen. Strangely, I was in a state of frozen movement where your body is violently shaking and your lungs are fighting to do their job, but you aren’t moving in real-time. I...

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The last thing I wanted to do that chilly spring afternoon was look up. The bright children’s gym was a new routine for my toddler while I battled first-trimester fatigue. The week before I had clapped as he climbed, delicately protecting my growing belly. This day, I was no longer pregnant. My mind was adjusting to my new reality, and my throat hurt from the emergency D&C intubation. If smartphones were a thing in 2009, I would have buried my face there. I would not have looked up. That day with nowhere to hide, I looked up to see a...

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This text chat group. It’s all the big things. All the little things. All the mom things. The chosen family things. Five ladies who have been close since middle school. We used to pass notes telling about our crushes, fights with our parents, first kisses, and womanly questions.Then, it changed to letters as we got older—from summer vacations, college tours, sports camps, our grandmas’ houses. Eventually, in college this really weird invention called e-mail happened. Perfect timing. We can send each other a letter like right away? How does this work? I’ll try it later in the computer lab. Cue...

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I sheepishly called my new-er friend. “Hi, Addy, I don’t want to be a bother, so if you’re busy, don’t worry . . . but I blew a tire and I’m at the tire shop. Could you possibly come pick me up and take me home? If not, it’s totally fine!” The words rushed out as if I were a 13-year-old girl asking the popular girl to come over for a sleepover. In a way, that’s exactly what I was doing.Making new friends is hard. Making new friends as a mom is really hard. As moms, we already have so...

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I am writing this at the hospital bedside of my dad, who just had quadruple bypass surgery, feeling endless gratitude to those incredible doctors and nurses who have kept his heart beating over the last few days that have felt like years. And by the time you read this, he will hopefully be back to begging my mom to let him eat a Superdawg and fries. (The answer will most definitely be no.) Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this hospital scene with my parents. But it is the scariest.Living far away, getting frantic calls—news that requires...

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From my teen years into my late 20s, I was the friend people would come to when they needed something—and only when they needed something. I didn’t know anything different and, to be honest, I didn’t mind either. It felt good to be needed and safer to keep others at a distance when it came to my needs. When I met my husband and got to know his friends, I was surprised to learn the dynamics of their friendships. That’s when I realized I was a doormat friend. I wasn’t being used by my friends—but they came to me when...

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I can count on one hand the number of close friends I have. I have never been popular and have never really had the desire to be.I suck at workplace politics and would much rather eat alone on my lunch break than participate in gossip. I am admittedly pretty sensitive, a little quirky, and pretty awkward around anyone I’m not close to. I would much rather be labeled as the weird girl any day than as a bully. Being that I’m picky with the people I stay close with, I rarely have interpersonal conflicts. But a year or so ago,...

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It’s not unusual for many of us mothers and grandmothers to have memory boxes. We each may call them something different, but they all share a commonality—housing the precious keepsakes from our own lives and those of our children and grandchildren. My filled-to-the-brim box occupies a sacred spot in my closet, giving me the opportunity when I feel nostalgic or crave genuine joy to dig through it. Recently, I came across a personal essay I banged out 40 years ago. In reading it now, I was caught by surprise at how life comes full circle. Here’s a snippet: We had...

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