Mommy & MeEEEEK!

Baby crying

Sadie and I had a blind date today. We got together with ten other moms and their babies to sit around, chat and compare notes. The experience left us both a little bit scarred.

Let's back up first. I've always felt bad that Sadie doesn't have more baby friends. (Or, to be more selfishly specific, that I don't have more mom friends with babies Sadie's age.) I do have one friend, whose son is a couple months older than Sadie, with whom we do semi-regular playdates. I'm one of her only mom friends too, so our playdates usually consist of the two babies rolling around on the floor for awhile while we say things to each other like, "Oh, I see he likes to whack himself in the head with a rattle until he cries. She does that too! I'm glad that's a normal thing." Last time, our playdate lasted about ten minutes, after which point both babies decided all they wanted to do was nap.

On Scott's urging, I checked out a Gymboree nearby our house. The facility looked cool, but classes are crazy expensive, and apparently you can't always guarantee a good turnout of kids, meaning if it winds up just being you and one or two other babies, you still have to pay that hefty per-class fee. After that, having run out of options, I was ready to resort to hitting on women at the park and begging them to be my baby buddy. Considering most of the women pushing strollers at the park are nannies, this tactic doesn't work great either.

Then, while surfing an internet chat room looking for ideas for how to meet other local moms -- I'm a dork, I know -- someone mentioned Meetup.com. I happen to love Meetup -- it takes one of the best aspects of the internet, being able to find group of people who enjoy the same highly specialized activities that you do, and puts it in your backyard. If your thing is amateur stargazing, or birdwatching, or you're really into making your own jewelry, there's probably a group on Meetup for it. I used to belong to a Skeptics meetup group (I know, I know, like I said, a DORK) and I couldn't believe the idea hadn't occurred to me sooner. I did a little searching, found a group for new moms in my neighborhood, and joined up.

This group does TONS of meetups -- walks at the park, music appreciation classes, monthly all-inclusive birthday parties, you name it. The first event I RSVP'd for was a playdate at another mom's house. I liked the sound of it: no more than ten moms and babies allowed. It sounded civil -- much more so than the open-invitation get-togethers at the park for which 30+ moms always seemed to RSVP. Those frankly sounded terrifying. So. House. Babies. Bring your own toys. Munch on snack food. Leave at naptime. Sounds good.

By the time we showed up, though, I was already feeling some trepidation. Sadie had been awake for an hour already, and she has a very definite inner clock. Once she's been up for that 90 minutes, she REALLY wants to go back to sleep. If I can get her over the hump, she's usually good for another 90 minute cycle -- but that middle point, where she's used to going down for a nap and is being denied it, can get ugly.

Me and two other moms were the first ones to arrive. I had a small pack of business cards in my back pocket so if another mom asked for my number, I'd have my contact info handy. (The last time I made a mom contact, I had to write my email address on the back of a paper plate.)

The hostess's home was beautiful -- and best of all, she had a carpeted play area with lots of room. Carpets! I never realized how wonderful traction can be. I put Sadie down and she was scooting all over the place, with her patented flying-blind style of pumping her legs while lying on her back. I traded some notes with the other moms, whose sons were a bit older than Sadie. I pulled out a few toys and the babies played with them. Things were nice and quiet. This was easy!

More and more moms began to arrive. More than the promised ten. One of the moms had an extra baby, her friend's son. Suddenly there were a LOT of babies in the room. Well-behaved babies, for the most part. Some crawling, some sitting, some sleeping. Conversation picked up. Toys came out. We were rolling.

Then -- then the turning point. I think it happened about 30 minutes in, and it started with Sadie, who wanted everyone in the room to know that she had Hit The Wall.

"EHHHHHHHH." Sadie announced.

"Oh, how cute, she's talking!" the other moms cooed.

"EHHHHHHH. WUUUUUUUUUUGH. AAAAAAAAAAH." I tried putting her on her back, but that didn't help. I tried flipping her over, and that really pissed her off.

Another baby decided to horn in on the action and started to sniffle. And -- it was like a dam broke. Crying babies everywhere. Sadie's face crumpled. "WAAAAAAAAH."

Interestingly, this didn't stop mom conversation a bit. They all just adjusted the volume knob and started talking louder to be heard over their babies. The louder the babies yelled, the louder they talked. And suddenly, this was how it stayed. This is how things were. One continuous wall of sound. As it was impossible to hear everyone, moms broke into smaller groups. I scooted over to one to try to listen to a conversation about baby swimming lessons, but it was difficult to hear her. Every time I tried to put Sadie down, she'd burst into tears again.

One mom arrived with two babies in tow, one in her arms and one in a carrier. She tripped stepping over the childproof gate, tipping everyone onto the (mercifully carpeted) floor. The other babies freaked out at the unexpected ruckus and screamed louder.

I turned to a mom who had been explaining to me that her son, for some reason, was acting up more today than usual. "Maybe it's because it's so loud. Is it usually...like this?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, this is pretty normal."

I nodded. I could feel my Asperger's side coming out, the part of me that wants to sit in a corner and not have to make conversation with anyone and just watch and see how everyone else does it. But I couldn't. I owed it to Sadie to make her some new friends. I can't have a friendless child! I couldn't be a mom-friendless mom. I OWED IT TO MYSELF.

Oh hey, look, it's 2:30! "Gotta go. I have a phone call at three," I said cheerfully. No one heard me. I yelled again over the noise that it was great to meet everyone, and escaped with my red-eyed, sniffling child out the front door. Out into the blissful quiet of the street, my business cards still in my back pocket, untouched. I strapped Sadie into her carseat and she passed out instantly, her head flopping onto her chest, worn out from the day. "You and me both, little girl," I thought.

We'll try it again. One day.