Uncertain glances. Hesitant smiles. Some perfunctory small talk as you feel each other out.
The end goal? A real first date.
Playdate, that is.
It is with some nostalgia, and yes, some nerves, but I am throwing my hat back in the ring. It’s time I got back out there and into the world of mommy dating.
I am actually a seasoned mommy-dater. It took a while, way back when Anne was little, to find the right match.
I frequented the popular singles-bars of mommy dating (playgrounds and libraries), looking for the right connection. After some promising sparks I had a bunch of completely miserable first dates.
But in the end, I did connect with not just one person, but a fabulous group of mom friends. Score!
Our kids were young. We were sleep deprived. And we were all looking for the same thing: real, cool, normal moms to hang out with.
Oh, how I adore these ladies. We vent about our kids, tell our life stories, and have a grand old time together. We get together with kids and without kids. These are real, true, stick-together friends.
But now our kids are older and we all have different schedules. No one’s around on the two mornings a week that Grace is home with me. We still get together, but less often with the kids and more on our own.
I know that two mornings a week with nothing planned will get more than a little boring in the long winter months. Having a friend or two to get together with would be nice.
So I guess it’s official: Grace and I have flipped our social status to “looking for a new relationship.”
But this time, I’m finding the world of mommy dating is even more complex.
The first time around, my kids were young enough that they weren’t choosy about their playmates. It was really about the mom-to-mom connection.
But now? Grace is three. She’s got a personality. And so do I. Which means we’ve moved on to double dating. If it doesn’t work for both of us, it’s just not gonna happen.
And the other shocker: I have been around such real, normal moms for so long – both in real life and online – that I forgot how many moms are still so UNREAL with each other.
And I think – no, I know – that when I’m doing the small-talk thing with these kinds of moms, they’re shocked by how honest I am. Which is fine, because they’re saving me from wasting further get-to-know-you time on them.
For example. Holiday break is over. Back to school, dance classes, and so on. I’m chit chatting with another mom and she asks the perfunctory, “How was your vacation?” question.
And the way a mom reacts to that answer tells me whether or not I have any desire to continue speaking to her.
The looks I have received have been telling. One of confusion. One of wide-eyed silence. One of smug judgement. And one of complete and total understanding, accompanied by a conspiratorial laugh.
Guess which mom I spent an hour laughing with during our girls’ dance class?
She’d be a kick-arse mom to hang out with, but her younger kid is boy and they live kind of far from us. Sigh.
Could’ve been so beautiful, could’ve been so right…
Wish us luck at the library next week. I hear it can be a bit of a meat market.