WANTED: Playdate with another mother interested in friendship. Alcohol of your choosing will be provided. Drama queens, chronic gossips, or complete bitches need not apply.
So, moving sucks. Don't get me wrong, for a while it is an adventure. A new home to decorate. New places to explore. But after weeks of hanging around no one except your offspring and your husband, things get a bit...unglamorous. You start to get a facial tic or this throbbing-vein-thing in your forehead, or all the muscles in your neck and shoulders seize up and you start walking around like the hunchback of Notre Dame. You open your fridge at breakfast and stare wistfully at the beer and wine in there as you listen to the children bicker again about whose turn it is to pick a TV show.
I need grown ups. I need a woman who will listen to me complain about my children and say "Amen, sista!" without judgment, knowing that despite my complaints, I'd sever a limb for those little tyrants. I need to sit on a patio and drink cheap wine or margaritas while chatting about nothing more significant that a celebrity's bad haircut or which nail salon in town is least likely to give me a fungus.
I need a girl friend. A gal pal. A comrade at arms.
The nice thing about this move is that I know quite a few people on island. Lovely people. The downside is that all of these lovely people live quite far away (in Hawaii terms...in Texas terms, they are practically neighbors). And I am a chicken. Plain and simple, I am always afraid of insinuating myself into someone else's life unless I am certain they want me there--vulnerability sucks almost as much as moving, and I am HORRIBLE at it.
So, I'm heading out and trying to meet new people. It has been a while since I've had to navigate the mommy "dating" scene. I'm trying very hard not to be that woman on the playground that is too needy. "Hi, I'm Angela. I just moved here. Want to be my best friend? Please??" Or the one that shares WAY too much info. "Who knew you could actually poop on the table during birth??" I'm avoiding the denim-jumper-wearing butter-churners as well as the over-scheduled, 15k-a-year-pre-school-attenders and shooting for a more moderate crowd.
Wish me luck that I find a catch. I really could use one.
FUN FACT: I wrote this late one night last week. Then I found this flying around Facebook the next morning. Guess this is a universal experience among military wives, huh? Tell me about your best/worst "friendship dating" experiences!