I’m not a first friend. I’m not the popular friend. I’m not the one who gets the phone calls, texts, or Starbucks. No one is following my “closet clean out” ready to buy my clothes or baby clothes. I’m not the one who has a group of friends who comment “beautiful!” or “you’re an awesome mom!” If I’m being honest, I think if I posted I’m giving away $100, no one would comment.
I’m a loner. I’m in the background—the invisible fly on the wall no one sees, notices, and forgets to talk to—which makes motherhood so much harder. Making friends is hard when you are used to being by yourself. My best friend? My husband.
Being a mom to toddlers is a strange season. You are truly not alone in two ways because you are always with people, tiny humans, but the aloneness . . . man. And the world is full of toddler moms. Moms who are facing the guilt of yelling at their kids, not feeling adequate, and facing potty training and tantrums. But it’s so easy to feel far away on an island, a deserted island.
One day, really closer than farther away, my kids will be grown up. I won’t be wiping butts, chasing them from breaking things or coloring on walls. They will be tall and strong, and they won’t need me. And maybe, just maybe I will have figured out how to make an adult best friend. One to share stories of our children over shopping trips and coffee.
by Amber Kuipers 
by Jenni Brennan 
by Tanya Teichroeb 
by Christina Crawford 
