The isolation of the modern SAHM

Sirenita and I took a walk this morning before the temperature skyrocketed from "uncomfortably sticky" to "heat warning." I was, of course, wearing my work out gear - aka stuff that makes me look like an active person instead of someone who showers during AM Naptime. Our 8 year old toy poodle trotted (or panted, more like) along at my heels.

As we walked, I explained where we were going, and the things around us, like a good parent developing their child's communication skills is supposed to. I was feeling pretty good about our walk. And then they showed up. The local clique of stay at home moms.

Three fit women in their "I haven't showered yet" work out gear, marching right at me with their kids in strollers taking up the entire road. There was no way they couldn't have seen me. I smiled, nodded a normal gringo greeting... And they swept on like I didn't exist, laughing and talking behind their strollers. And leaving me feeling incredibly isolated, like the little girl ignored by the other kids at recess.

The Accountant and I only have one car. As much as I would love to have one, we honestly we don't need a second one. It would just sit in the garage most of the week anyhow.  But because we have only one car, and all the local mom groups seem to be an hour away on the far side of the city, I am not really connected with any other SAHM. 

Being a stay at home mom is hard work. I spend my whole day wrapped up in the whims of a tiny person who communicates through "ITA, ITA, ITA!" (Sirenita speaks Spanish only right now, Ita is "Lista" or ready) at best, and leaves me wondering what in the world she is telling me she is ready for?  That's not the really difficult part of it, though. As a stay at home mom, your identity suddenly takes a drastic shift. Once, you were a social person talking about interesting things with your friends. Now you tell yourself to refrain from sending them video of your genius 11 month old making farm animal sounds, because they're surely sick of hearing about your child. You become keenly aware that you've become that mom. The one that talks about kids all day, and little else. You feel socially awkward, and even if you do manage to have a conversation that doesn't revolve around your child, you have to interrupt it every 30 seconds to pull your child out of flower pots, remove dvd's from their mouth, drag them out from under the couch, and run down the hall because God alone knows what she'll get into by herself down there. 

It's a hard life, trying to keep a decent identity, or just not care what your friends think. If you're lucky, you aren't the first to have a kid and the transition is smoother. Or someone else gets pregnant and you find yourself looking with joyful anticipation to the moment they understand your sudden insanity, and why bath time and animal noises are so wonderful

But I'm sure there are plenty more of us out there, pushing on through the ups and downs of the mom life, feeling lonely, awkward, stinky, and ignored. It's a sad world where we live so close to so many people that we'll never know.

Several blocks later, we passed another Mom. She too, was in her haven't had a chance to shower yet work out gear, as she pulled her little one along in a wagon. She smiled, commented on my well behaved dog. Exchanged a moment of humanity. Ladies, this mom business is far too lonely to be cliquish and rude. Have a heart, and at least smile at others as you go by. I know I will be, because they may just need an extra cup of coffee and a smile today.