You may love them or hate them, but, for a huge chunk of time, you need them. When my kids were younger, I had a few groups of women I considered my “mom friends” — the mothers of my children’s friends. Even if you don’t have mom friends, you’re probably aware of mom groups; the media loves them, the more gossipy and scandalous, the better.
You’ll see it in the first-hand reports of toxic celebrity-mom group chats and mega-hits like Big Little Lies, which features rich moms, working-class moms, and a murder. These friendships are a focal point of our cultural imagination, where society can project all our ideas and expectations of women raising children in these times. But far from the media and the memes, mom groups are complicated.
A source of comfort and camaraderie, yes, but also awkwardness — and sometimes even distress. The good stuff first: there’s a lot to love about friendships with other mothers. They’re a built-in support network, there when you need them.
There is always someone available to pick up your kid when you’re stuck in traffic or give a cuddle when they’re scared at a sleep over. They have an extra pair of shin pads at the soccer tournament when you forgot to pack them, or a nut-free snack on the field trip for your highly-allergic toddler. Underneath the relief these encounters engender lies a deeper and implicit exchange of trust.
It says: Please take care of my kid. Please make sure they are cared for, supported, seen, loved. When we’re at our best, we’re working towards a shared goal: helping to raise each other’s children.
Building and sustaining the village. There’s joy in that; a bit of magic, too. These friendships also provide a rare space where we can acknowledge the realities of motherhood, the impossible things asked of women raising children.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
