Yes, Your Child Is Perfect - Can We Change The Subject?
Something's happened to your friends. It's been slow in coming, and it's taken you a while to notice, but something is definitely wrong. You used to be able to plan lunches or dinners or weekend get-togethers, but now your friends are always unavailable. Even after you had your child, you swore that parenthood wouldn't stop you from preserving those relationships, that you'd be close to your friends, forever.
So, what is it? You've kept your promise, but they're the ones who never seem to have the time. It's starting to feel like they're actually avoiding you; it's making you paranoid. Is your deodorant failing?
The saddest part, of course, is that they're the ones, missing out. They were so happy for you, when you had your child, so anxious to hear about all the miracles that each day brought you. Now, when you're brimming with stories about your amazing, talented, beautiful, perfect child-and you have hundreds of pictures-they can't even make time for coffee!
What's wrong with these people? Maybe they've had too much of a good thing.
First-time parents-no matter how they've prepared themselves-are always surprised at the depth of the emotions brought on by the birth of a child. You can't plan for the psychological impact caused by the miracle of your child's birth. Each following day, you're filled with awe, watching your child grow from a helpless infant to a toddler with a unique personality. You naturally want to share your joy with everyone you know.
And your friends are happy for you-they really are. They do want to know about your adventures in parenting. It's just that, sometimes (as crazy as this may sound to you), they think there are other things, like their lives, to talk about.
Believe it or not, your friends with kids older than yours (especially those with multiple kids) have probably gotten past the whole "miracle" thing, and have settled into a more stoic "one day at a time, Lord" attitude toward parenting and family. They understand what you're experiencing, and don't necessarily want to re-live every moment of it through you, to the exclusion of every other topic of conversation.
And, secretly, your childless friends are afraid of committing a serious crime, if you give them the old "I didn't know what being a woman was all about until I became a mother" speech, one more time-no matter how sincerely you mean it.
No one expects you to be nonchalant about your child. On the other hand, no one else can be as involved in your child as you. And no other relationship, outside of the one with your spouse, can be as important to you. But just because you're a parent, now, doesn't mean you should learn to live without other adult friends in your life. You need them, and your child needs to see you, relating to your friends, as a model for his own friendships.
Make the effort one more time. Plan lunch with a friend or an after-work coffee meeting. Let her lead the conversation-and be interested in her life. As hard as it may be, let her bring up the subject of your child.
Choose one special story to tell, that summarizes your feelings about your child and his growth. Take three or four pictures, not the whole album. Your friends will be happy to welcome you back.
So, what is it? You've kept your promise, but they're the ones who never seem to have the time. It's starting to feel like they're actually avoiding you; it's making you paranoid. Is your deodorant failing?
The saddest part, of course, is that they're the ones, missing out. They were so happy for you, when you had your child, so anxious to hear about all the miracles that each day brought you. Now, when you're brimming with stories about your amazing, talented, beautiful, perfect child-and you have hundreds of pictures-they can't even make time for coffee!
What's wrong with these people? Maybe they've had too much of a good thing.
First-time parents-no matter how they've prepared themselves-are always surprised at the depth of the emotions brought on by the birth of a child. You can't plan for the psychological impact caused by the miracle of your child's birth. Each following day, you're filled with awe, watching your child grow from a helpless infant to a toddler with a unique personality. You naturally want to share your joy with everyone you know.
And your friends are happy for you-they really are. They do want to know about your adventures in parenting. It's just that, sometimes (as crazy as this may sound to you), they think there are other things, like their lives, to talk about.
Believe it or not, your friends with kids older than yours (especially those with multiple kids) have probably gotten past the whole "miracle" thing, and have settled into a more stoic "one day at a time, Lord" attitude toward parenting and family. They understand what you're experiencing, and don't necessarily want to re-live every moment of it through you, to the exclusion of every other topic of conversation.
And, secretly, your childless friends are afraid of committing a serious crime, if you give them the old "I didn't know what being a woman was all about until I became a mother" speech, one more time-no matter how sincerely you mean it.
No one expects you to be nonchalant about your child. On the other hand, no one else can be as involved in your child as you. And no other relationship, outside of the one with your spouse, can be as important to you. But just because you're a parent, now, doesn't mean you should learn to live without other adult friends in your life. You need them, and your child needs to see you, relating to your friends, as a model for his own friendships.
Make the effort one more time. Plan lunch with a friend or an after-work coffee meeting. Let her lead the conversation-and be interested in her life. As hard as it may be, let her bring up the subject of your child.
Choose one special story to tell, that summarizes your feelings about your child and his growth. Take three or four pictures, not the whole album. Your friends will be happy to welcome you back.
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