Truth bomb alert.
I don’t have many friends with children. And by that, I mean I only have one friend who has had kids.
I know this one mother really well. We met when we were 10-years-old and she’s been stuck with me ever since. However she lives three hours away from my home and that makes hanging out nearly impossible. I only see her once a year.
So I guess I am technically down to none. Zero mum friends.
I love mothers, I write about mothers, I fight for mothers, I entertain mothers and most importantly – I am a mother! Yet in the past, I have found it really hard to be mates with them.
I know a lot of mothers and I am friendly with them but I wouldn’t call any of them at 4am in a DEFQON 1 meltdown. (Yes, that is how I judge the strength of a friendship. Is that wrong?!)
Both my girls are starting new schools this year and I am determined to make friends. I am ready. Up until now I haven’t been because I was being a wanker about the whole situation.
In the past I avoided other mothers because I perceived them as a judgmental right wing communist zombie cult, who were hell bent on ripping the sequins from my body and replacing them with front-pleated grey slacks and a pair of Crocs.
So I was being very rational about it.
I would go as far a to say I alienated myself from every mother I met; going out of my way to act like a pre-teen twat. I just wanted to bash them over the head with how YOUNG I was and how SO NOT LIKE them I was and look at me I am so young and not like you and groovy and cool and young and look at me.