Dear friends without kids,
I love you dearly.
Really, I do.
But you know what I would really love? If you could remember that just because I’m a mom, doesn’t mean I’m not your friend anymore. I miss you. Though I wouldn’t ever trade my kid for the world, I miss the time before kids, when I could spend a day doing everything or nothing.
I have interests, and hobbies, and (dare I say it) more of a drive to get out of the house than you do (probably most days, anyway). I want to have you and your spouse, or significant other over for dinner, but it’s just going to have to be okay if there are a few spare toys lingering in rooms, and it makes no sense to you (or me) how or why they got there.
Gone for me are the days of dropping everything to go out for an evening, or for coffee, or, hell, even to the gym. Yes, I know I’ll get that all back some day, but for now, my life revolves around making sure I get to the day care before they start charging $5 for every minute past 4:30 that I am late, or having to make plans for a week or two down the road, because I need time to find someone to watch my child.
And if the sitter bails on me – that’s gotta be okay – because babysitters have lives too.
But when you end up with an extra ticket somewhere, or are just looking for someone to visit with, don’t forget about your friend with the kid over here. Most of us would love to spend time with our kid-less friends, so you can fill us in on the “real world” news. The last five shows I’ve watched on TV consisted of the words Mickey, Princess, Disney or Story somewhere in the title.
Once the munchkin is in bed, I may spend several hours on the computer playing catch up to see what the rest of the world is doing, or I might just go straight to bed. But I sure do love to get emails, Facebook messages or texts from you, even if it’s just to say hi.
I solemnly swear I will do my best to not complain to you (too much) about the preschool, the content of my child’s diaper (thankfully mines been out of those for a while now), or the color of the boogers that came out of her nose during her last cold, as long as you promise to remember that I’m not just a mom. I like to talk about sports and hobbies and food and movies and music and books and all the other things I haven’t had time to fully enjoy.
Just, don’t hate me when I have to cut our visit short because the kid clogged the toilet with an entire roll of toilet paper.