I've been living under a microscope. Or at least that's what it feels like. For a short-term house guest, it's possible to present a version of your self, home and family that is close to the real deal, but a little nicer. But for a long-term house guest, namely a 3-week mother-in-law visit, the pretense falters after a few days and suddenly the real thing is exposed to an outsider

There is so much about being a parent that you couldn't possibly guess at until you're there (and then it's too late). There's the big stuff: how in love you can be with a baby, how endearing it is when your toddler says he loves you, how fun it is to see your partner's traits coming through in your kids.... But there's also so many small things every day that take you by surprise. Like the time I wanted to beat up a group of 5-year-old girls. I never would have thought that I could be so angry at such little kids, that I could really think they were mean, horrible little people. But I did.

In the spring when L was 15 months old, we moved to the Pioneer Valley. Knowing nobody, I began my adventures in mommy-dating. I hated mommy-dating but it had to be done. Without a job to go to, I had no other way of meeting new people. If you've never had to mommy-date, consider yourself lucky.

Mommy-dating is just like real-dating, except the scene unfolds at the playground, (or supermarket, library, museum etc,) instead of a bar. I paid a little more attention to my own appearance, and L's, making sure we were both at least mostly clean. I'd scan the park for "attractive" moms. What makes a potential mom-friend attractive? Her kid needs to be approximately the same age as L. No matter how cool a mom of a 6 month old seems, there's no way she'd want a playdate with my wild toddler. She needs to look kind of like me - I'm not going to be bffs with a fancy mom. So, with my sights set on new mom friends, I hit the "singles" scene.

Just like real-dating, I had to put myself out there: I made eye contact; I was approachable; I was friendly; I visited the same places again and again, so I could see the same moms again and again; I made idle conversation with everyone; I introduced myself; I asked for phone numbers. All of this sucked. All of this was entirely against my inherent unfriendly nature. And, worse, I had an unreliable wing-man. L could be entirely disarming, or he could throw sand in your kid's eyes.

In many ways, I think real-dating is less awkward than mom-dating. With real-dating, the whole pick-up process is sort of expected and normal. Between moms at the playground, it's odd. It's weird to go from chatting idly about the kids in the sandbox to, "So, maybe I can get your number so we can do this again sometime..." It's truly awful. I'd come home from the park depressed because there was a really cool mom and I just didn't pluck up the courage to get her number, and she didn't ask for mine. I'd go weeks hoping to run into her again.

My first summer here I met a lot of moms and was able to set up a second date with a number of them. The second date is where you see if there is any chemistry. I found that these other moms mostly fell in one of two camps: those who thought I was funny, and those who thought I was horrible. I had a lot of very uncomfortable second dates! I never really did the whole real-dating thing, so I was unsure how to navigate these second dates. At what point in a potential new relationship, do you show your real self? Not the charming one who picked-up this mom, but the real one who dreads going into public places with her then 17-month-old? The one whose first thought upon her son's waking up is, "damn"? How do you release your real personality? All at once? Or slowly, over time?

I decided to ease it out. I'd start with something light and benign to gauge my audience. I'd do something like call my son a "maniac." For most people, this would go by unnoticed. There were a few moms, however, who immediately sought to correct me and explain that my son was developmentally appropriate blah blah blah. These moms were entirely too precious for me, and some excuse would be made for the playdate to end.

Next, I'd try something a little more colorful. I'd tell the story about how my son swears fairly regularly. (History of Speech) This would either be met with laughter and an equally charming story (the desired response), or shock and "Oh no! What did you do??" The latter set were dismissed.

Through my process of picking-up, follow-up dating, and personality slow release, I have been able to build a new circle of friends. My mom friends. These are women whose children drive them crazy. These are women whose children have been known to bite, scream, disrupt etc. These are women who know L and can appreciate all of his charms despite all of his foibles. Without these women I'd still be in the lonely trenches as a "single mom."

Thursday 5/20 7-9pm
Food for Thought Books, Amherst
$25-5 Sliding Scale

I have discovered something valuable about being a mom. As with any job, (and yes, mothering is the longest standing, most mentally and physically demanding, and least appreciated job in the history of man or, more importantly, womankind, and in my opinion, the most rewarding job too.)  she must take the good and the not so good that seem to be inherent in the act of motherhood. The use of guilt has been a long standing and widely accepted perk reserved for mothers. Ben’s too small to use the c-section scar on right now, but I figure I may eventually get a car wash and some laundry done using it.

"What I'm here to talk about today is postpartum depression. The kicker is that I have never experienced postpartum depression, at least not for any length of time. However I did experience something I imagine very few mothers are exempt from - postpartum anxiety and blues (A & B)."