Just a few more thoughts, but not about the drinking
The whole playgroup thing is so beside the point for me. I don’t even belong to a playgroup, nor do I have any desire to start one. Lila, at 3 ½, has never had a group play situation outside of the daycare/preschool that she’s attended for almost six months. I just couldn’t get into it this time around. All that earnest parenting, talking about the best way just became a way for me to hide what I want behind a transparent layer of insecurity.
Also, I’m less insecure and less desiring of a uniform reflection of my values in the people around me. More importantly, less concerned that my parenting fits within any kind of a mold that holds the shape of any one set of values. I’ve discovered that I have more dimensions to me than any labels can describe. Whenever I’ve gotten together with a group of mothers and children for the purpose of the kids playing and the grown-ups talking, I’ve always walked away from the day feeling questioned, judged (positively and negatively) and wishing for something more.
Dawn wrote so eloquently about what she’s learned in a decade of parenting last week and what she said resonated for me. When Ty was born I lived in Park Slope (I know, Gawker’s favorite mothers to mock). I found a La Leche meeting (amen) and out of that grew a mother’s group. We met in each other’s living rooms or in Prospect Park once a week for a snack and to sit around nursing, complaining, laughing and looking for validation. We had opinions. Breast is best, of course. So is organic. And natural fibers. And attachment parenting. And…and…and… Now that I think of it, at least we occasionally softened our sharp edges with a glass of wine.
My boy didn’t nurse so great because he experienced an early taste of formula with rice milk fed to him from a bottle while I was in an antihistamine and pain-killer haze. I read about the wonderful benefits of almond milk. Rather than buy it, however, I went through the weekly process of soaking organic whole, raw almonds in water, pureeing them in the food processor, then straining it all through a coffee filter over a Tupperware jug. I hated doing it—it was a huge pain in the ass, but told myself it was the best thing I could offer this baby who nursed so haphazardly. I looked to the group for validation and never came up empty-handed.
We had one mother whose milk didn’t let down and was still nursing her 16 month old with fresh, organic goat’s milk that was delivered by refrigerator truck to the old-fashioned metal box on her front stoop every three days. She wore it in a plastic sack and he nursed it from tubing taped to her breasts. Even after more than a year, this mother still cried at playgroup when she fed her child. That to me is the epitome of earnest parenting. No pressure there.
I spent Tyler’s early childhood in a fog of idealism that prevented me from connecting with anyone who wasn’t just like me. It was hard to make friends, especially because I loathed myself so completely and then surrounded myself with people who were so much like me that it was difficult to love them unconditionally.
But this time around, with all of that experience to draw on, I find I can’t connect with those same mothers I sought out before. I don’t want to get together with other mothers with children Lila’s age so we can all sit around and worry it all to death. I haven’t met anyone with the big age spread my kids have. My few friends now have older children and Lila just hangs out with the adults.
Becca said it best in the comments on the previous post. I just want time away from all of the bullshit, and maybe even the kids, thinking about something other than the thousand ways I’m screwing them up with my imperfect parenting. If I could find a group of women (locally, I’m sure I could draw on the terrific women who read and comment here and form the best playgroup ever) who not only wanted to, but committed to getting together so the little heads played and the big heads used their noggins for something outside the realm of motherhood, well, I’d be all over that. Too bad Dawn and Eve live 3 hours away!
Weekly get togethers to talk about reading, writing, art, politics, food, gardening, education (our own, not the kids’), sex, work, money, meaning. And if there’s serious snackage and buzz-enhancing bevvies? Where can I sign up?
"Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity; but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance. What man can stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?"
~Hal Borland
February 2nd, 2007 at 9:29 am
I think I could glean this from previous posts, Kelly, but how far apart are your kids? Mine are 7-1/2 years, and that spread has really affected my attitude this second time around. (I think it’s the same for Dawn, actually, and the post you cite above really resonated for me, too.) But my #2 is also already 9 years old, so the whole playdate, mom-judging thing has mostly died down, except among the hard-core (usually parents of onlies) who are now putting all that energy into choosing middle schools.
February 2nd, 2007 at 10:30 am
When my children were young I felt like a kind of alien, deficient being when I participated in these things. All I wanted to talk about was literature and art and life. So good for you!!! You are one of a kind!!! Hooray!
February 2nd, 2007 at 11:16 am
I have never done a playgroup either, and sitting around with moms talking about being moms makes my eyes bleed.
The almond milk thing? Wow. Wow. When I weaned Petunia, she moved to Similac and jarred Gerber foods. We would never have been friends. I would have thought you were crazy!
February 2nd, 2007 at 9:21 pm
Damn it. Why do I not live in your town?
I’ve never been in a play group. My neighbor (before we moved far away) who had a kid two months before me joined a group and she once invited me to it and while most of the moms were really friendly, it was clear I didn’t belong. I was an off note. One mom though was actually incredibly rude. My way of parenting was not serious enough for them.
I prefer to just gather with friends who have kids, whatever their age and let them romp while we chat about whatever the hell we want. I don’t mind talking about parenting, but it gets really old fast if that’s all a person is interested in.
Are onlies usually especially judgemental? I am an only but I don’t see why an only would feel more critical of other people. Unless out of defensiveness. I’ve been guilty of that a couple of times when people harrass me about having more kids and tell me how I owe it to my son. I don’t meet very many other people with just one kid. I hope I’m not too judgy.
I never was idealistic about parenthood, I guess I just was so sure that I had no idea what I was getting into that I figured I’d figure it out along the way. The only thing I was sure of was that my kid would not eat processed food, he would eat wonderful home made wholesome food. I ended up with an extraordinarily picky eater who will only eat about four types of fresh produce, and packaged crackers. I stopped shedding tears over it a few years ago.
how did parenting become so alienating? I felt that way too.
February 3rd, 2007 at 8:40 pm
That is great!! There is a large spread in age in my kids, 11, 8, 4, and 3 — and I am so DONE with the playgroup thing. Please!! I find it very difficult to have a meaningful conversation with Moms who have kids the same age as my 4 and 3 year olds. It’s usually their first — and they worry about things I no longer care to discuss. I don’t even care to write about them! I thought, until I read your post, that I was burned out — but I’m not, I’m just in a different place. Thanks
February 4th, 2007 at 6:23 pm
Playgroup? Whassat? Maybe I’m lucky having had my kids out here, where I’ve got no choices and no one to compare myself to but the mirror.
I love that you lived in Park Slope. Deliciously.
And: You make me want to move to Ohio.
February 5th, 2007 at 11:21 am
My dear friend, all this play-group stuff is really alien to me. i always thought, children come to us so they can live with us not the other way around. of course we give the best we can but they are joining our lives - bringing lots of love, joy, … and challenges and we adjust to the needs of everybody involved the best we can.
you are doing a wonderful job balancing work, children, home, … and even though there does not seem to be enough time for anything we still would love to share, enrich our lives with wonderful women (preferable with kids similar ages) who have the same outlook in life or at least the understanding. so we feel supported through the loving presence of friends.
well in thoughts and distance you do! love Sabine
February 5th, 2007 at 5:47 pm
If you figure it out, sign me up too, please.
I had an early and rather abrupt shift from idealism, but I still have a few nasty moments when I feel guilt for not straining my own almond milk, or for reading here while my son watches tv. (Bad, bad, bad!lol)
Every organized parenting class or group I’ve tried has sucked.Probably partly my fault, but since I have a few–very few–friends with kids, and my son attends preschool a few times each week, I can’t be bothered either. I’d rather spend the small amount of free time I have with people I actually enjoy then explaining why I wasn’t able to breastfeed, or what my thoughts on toilet-training are, or blah, blah, blah and blah. I get tired of being All Mom, All The Time.
February 6th, 2007 at 7:37 am
Hi!! I just found your site, and I must say that I completely agree with you about the get together you’re proposing!! That sounds LOVELY.
February 8th, 2007 at 2:01 pm
. . . don’t you wish the geeks would just go ahead and invent the vitual reality geer so that we could hang out with our blog friends??? seriously!
(and you are the most real, engaged, thoughtful, upfront mom I know . . . i have such admiration for how you do all you do . . . )