Our fall favorites are here! 🍂


If you’re a mom who is OK with befriending moms of your kids’ friends, it is easy to expand your social circle. For me, though, once the novelty of talking about diapers and vomit wore off and I stopped making friends in the hallway of my kids’ preschool, I was left with two equally uncomfortable choices: life as a recluse or awkward introductions. My comfort zone has been on my sofa, perpetually pajama clad, satisfied to consider my dogs my actual best friends.

Despite my reclusiveness, I’ve also had my fair share of awkward attempts at friend-making. These usually happen on the rare occasions I’ve decided to venture out from the Mothership of Reclusion and Hermithood, as I call my house when the kids aren’t there. One such day, against many odds, I ended up meeting a friend, one I still have years later. The process was stressful, though. After all, finding friends as a home-based adult is no easy task.

For all you friend-starved moms out there, here is my story of inspiration and connection, the story about making friends with Angie:

There I was, at the dog park, in my slovenly chic cutoffs, pajama shirt I was passing off as a tunic, and short, wild hair that dared people to ask what gender pronoun I prefer. Ajax and Comet were frolicking, tongues flapping around in the wind, stopping occasionally to lift their legs and mark trees. At home they always peed like girls, so this was a rare display of canine masculinity.

I was in FitBit purgatory, doing loops around the 10-acre park, attempting to meet my step goal, when I saw a hippopotamus-eque dog ambling towards me. Ajax and Comet ran over and did some requisite ass-sniffing, and since I have no trouble meeting new dogs, I greeted this grey monstrosity in my friendliest dog voice. Then– damn, I lingered too long– the hippo-dog’s human, asked me what kind of dogs Ajax and Comet were. Standard dog-park banter that even on my most antisocial of days I can generally manage. They look like miniature Wolfhounds or some sort of wire-haired pointer, but with a really goofy, cartoon-like edge. I was tempted to give a clever response– Hawaiian Beach Dog or Sudanese Elephant Hound– but instead explained their mom was a poodle, their dad a Weimaraner.

I asked what her dog was– not a Hippo-Doodle, it turned out; she was a Bouvier, but without the pretentious haircut. Normally, dog-park interactions end there, but something about this woman said, “Maybe she could be my friend.” I kept the conversation going by launching into a monologue about Ajax, my first dog ever, whose attachment disorder caused him to freak out any time I left the room. He’d whine at the door to the bathroom, try to get into the shower with me, and freak out if I left the house for any period of time. The best cure for canine mental illness, I explained, is another dog. That’s how we ended up with Comet.

Somehow, despite the monologue, we exchanged names, a sure sign of interest in a friendship. Score! What started off as nerve-wracking small talk could turn into something real, I thought. This could be so much better than a friendship whose commonality was the PTA fundraiser or a pair of two-year olds (“Mine takes off his diaper and smears poop on the walls too!”).

I planned to Facebook-stalk her and then initiate some sort of online contact, like “Hey, remember me, we met at the dog park. I want to be your friend” or something equally suave, but by the time I got home and cleaned up the vomit from carsick Comet, I had forgotten her name. I thought about Missed Connections on Craigslist. I thought about going back to the dog park and just waiting. Then, I thought about how creepy and weird that would be.

As I grieved the loss of this potential friend and settled back into Phase I of my work-from-home routine (surfing flash deal sites), a message appeared on Twitter from Angie Ricketts. That was her name! But why the hell did she social-media stalk me? That was creepy as hell. Score! I’m pretty creepy too, I thought as I found her on Facebook and initiated a friends request before I even responded to her Twitter message.

Angie met me in my natural state– messy, slightly creepy, and more at ease with dogs than humans. It was a relief to meet Angie without having to endure banter like “My toddler is 99th percentile for height; why are your kids so short?” or slick attempts at unfriending me like, “You would get along with my neighbor Jennifer. She thinks sweatpants are OK to wear to the store too!”

Years later, we are still friends. And, that successful friending experience has opened me up to making other friends. An authentic friendship is worth whatever awkwardness it takes to get the relationship off the ground– or out of the dog park.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Dani Bostick

Dani Bostick teaches Latin at John Handley High School in Winchester, Virginia. She also has a degree in Clinical Mental Health Counseling and devotes most of her energy to disrupting the culture of shame and silence surrounding sexual abuse and assault. When she's not teaching or disrupting, Dani enjoys spending time with her husband, six kids, and two dogs.

Welcome to Periods in Your 30s and 40s

In: Health, Humor
Welcome to Periods in Your 30s and 40s www.herviewfromhome.com

Do you remember that day in the fifth grade when the boys and girls were separated for the “Sexuality and Development” talk? Some nice old lady health teacher came into your room and gave you some straight talk about how the next few years were going to go for you. It was awkward and shocking and you knew your childhood would never be the same. When you hit your mid-thirties, there should be some kind of Part Two to that conversation. All the ladies need to be rounded up, lead into a dimly lit classroom that smells vaguely of pencil...

Keep Reading

How to Stay Married For (at Least) 10 Years

In: Humor, Relationships
How to Stay Married For (at Least) 10 years www.herviewfromhome.com

In July, my husband and I celebrated our 10-year wedding anniversary. We got married back in 2008 following my college graduation. I was only 22 at the time and him? Well, he was all good-looking at the prime age of 30. There were may vocal skeptics who chimed in, unasked of course, to share with us their belief that we would “never last” and that it would “never work”. To them, I say, “You were wrong! Na-na, na-na, boo-boo!” Just kidding, of course; I don’t talk like that. I am a respectable mother, not a four-year-old child and thank goodness...

Keep Reading

How to Put Your Children to Bed in 46 Easy Steps

In: Humor, Kids
How to Put Your Children to Bed in 46 Easy Steps www.herviewfromhome.com

It was time. It had to happen. We’d had a good run at pouring our children into bed at 11:30 p.m., sweaty, sticky, and exhausted from their head to their toes.  But bedtime had to get back to its (somewhat) regularly scheduled program.  When we had one kid, bedtime was a breeze.  Each night, we had a 10 step process. And the steps were simple. And very, very routine. 1. Toys away at 7:10 p.m. 2. Up the stairs at 7:15 p.m. 3. Change into pajamas 4. Brush teeth 5. Read two books 6. Say prayers 7. Light off 8....

Keep Reading

Welcome to the Dreaded Man Cold Season

In: Health, Humor
Welcome to the Dreaded Man Cold Season www.herviewfromhome.com

Your husband has a mere headache, but he automatically now believes that he is going to be a chronic sufferer of cluster migraines. Or, maybe he got a small splinter, but he now believes that he is, without probability, going to end up with a staph infection. And, well, that cough of his (cough, cough) is going to have him laid up in bed for the next two days because he is just feeling so terrible. Sound familiar? It is all too familiar to me. What am I talking about? How men are babies when they get sick. Yes, I said it. I...

Keep Reading

Wanted: Imperfect Friends

In: Humor, Relationships
Wanted: Imperfect Friends www.herviewfromhome.com

Is anyone else as sick of the facade as I am?  Because on social media, everyone seems to have their crap together. But I sure don’t.  Scrolling through my feeds leaves me feeling inadequate and lonely, desperately lonely.  I know social media is only the high points. I know there is always more going on behind the scenes that I don’t know about. But at the end of the day, I just feel like there’s no one who would want to be friends with little, imperfect, insignificant, me.  So, I’m placing an ad.  Wanted: Imperfect Friends A kind, but quirky,...

Keep Reading

51 Reasons a Mom Might Be Late

In: Humor, Motherhood
51 Reasons a Mom Might Be Late www.herviewfromhome.com

I’ve got a question for all you moms out there: Have you ever been late? Yeah, me neither. Just kidding! We’ve all been there. We have an appointment, a meeting, an event, or just a playdate, and we want to be on time. In fact, it often looks and feels like we’re going to be on time. We’ve planned ahead. We have everything in order, and we are ready to head out the door. But then, without fail, the inevitable happens. Actually, it seems that a good number of inevitables happen. And we’re running late, again. Being on time is...

Keep Reading

5 Ways Boy Moms Always Ruin Our Fun

In: Humor, Kids
5 Ways Boy Moms Always Ruin Our Fun www.herviewfromhome.com

We know Mom loves us, don’t worry about that . . . but sometimes it seems like she’s just making up a whole pile of rules to ruin our fun. For instance, we’ll be in the middle of a huge independent project and she’ll come along, usually shriek, and be like, “You can’t use water guns to fill up the bathtub! And why are you shooting water into the toilet? Ewwwwww.” And just like that, we have to pack it all up and return to a clean orderly activity. A controlled activity. A zero fun activity. We’re not even sure...

Keep Reading

Should Grandparents Get Paid to Babysit?

In: Humor, Journal
Should Grandparents Get Paid to Babysit? www.herviewfromhome.com

While swaying in side-by-side hammocks, my daughter paid me the ultimate compliment: “It gives me enormous peace of mind while I’m working, to know you’re watching my son and that he’s in the most capable hands.” Then 10 seconds later while I was still orbiting in happy mode, she insulted me by offering to PAY me for this glorious privilege. We engaged in a little tit for tat tug of war with no clear winner. And the debate rages on, at least in our household. How about yours? To pay or not to pay the loving grandparents who bless us...

Keep Reading

Kids Today Will Never Know the Joy of a 90s Summer

In: Humor

So you want a good old fashioned 90s summer, huh? I don’t blame you. The 90s rocked! (Literally, thanks to Kurt Cobain and Eddie Vedder.) I’m not going to lie—I take slight offense to the use of “old fashioned” and “90s” in the same sentence, as I’m pretty sure the 90s were like 10 years ago, but I’ll still help you out. If you’re really doing this though, you’ll need to ditch some of your modern conveniences, like your phone. I know, I know, but it’s a requirement. You may bring a beeper or clunky flip-phone, but no internet allowed...

Keep Reading

Dear Kids, This Is Not An Uber

In: Humor, Kids
Dear Kids, This Is Not An Uber www.herviewfromhome.com

Paid automotive transportation is pretty simple. You hop in the backseat of a cab, share the address where you are going and aren’t required to speak any longer until you arrive at your destination and pay the driver. The same primary rules apply to taking an Uber or Lyft.  The unwritten rules have been in place for some time. Your trade-off for taking paid transportation is a ride in the backseat, where you don’t have control over the music, the temperature of the car, the route the driver takes or how fast the trip takes, not even the amount of...

Keep Reading