By Samantha Brooks
I find myself longing for friendships, yet the yearning isn’t as intense as I once expected. Sure, I still have friends, but they’re not the same as they used to be. With two young children under the age of six, our connection mainly exists through text messages. Phone calls are rare, and face-to-face meetings are even more infrequent.
When I welcomed my second daughter into the world, I envisioned a life filled with playdates and outings, thinking that my daily routine would remain unchanged from when I had just one child. However, that was not the case.
Breastfeeding my newborn proved to be challenging, especially in noisy environments, rendering outings to restaurants nearly impossible. Friends who once invited my eldest daughter and me over stopped reaching out. I aimed to maintain a sense of normalcy for my firstborn, but it was a struggle. Everything felt more complicated with two children, at least initially.
As time went on, however, I began to notice a change. I started taking my kids out for lunches and grocery shopping, and we began to explore beyond the confines of our living room. To be fair, I usually reserve the more significant errands for weekends when we can tackle them as a family with their dad. For example, our major grocery runs or plans for apple picking, which we hope to do later this afternoon, have become Saturday adventures instead of “Mommy and Me” outings during the week.
Somewhere along the line, my daughters developed a bond. Just two days ago, they were sitting next to each other, their knees touching, whispering about a TV show while my husband and I observed from the kitchen. Their playful interactions are so harmonious that my toddler has had meltdowns, pleading with me to pick her big sister up from school.
Somewhere, managing two kids became easier than managing one. I can now shower — albeit quickly — without the constant worry of phantom cries signaling that something has gone awry. My children will run into the bathroom, announcing “uh oh” if any mishaps occur, even if those mishaps are trivial, like a booger on a finger.
During this winding journey of raising two daughters, I’ve grown accustomed to the chaos, making the four years I spent with just my eldest feel like distant, cherished memories. I must remember these challenging yet rewarding years of being a “Mom of Little Kids.” They are, without a doubt, some of the best moments of my life — perhaps they always will be.
Recently, I shared with a stranger at a restaurant — while I was out with my two girls — that if I had known how delightful sibling relationships could be, I might have been less hesitant to expand my family. (He and his wife are contemplating a second child.) Even if I could go back, I wouldn’t change a thing. I adore these two little humans and treasure the time I had alone with my firstborn. This age gap also gives me precious moments with my second before she heads off to school.
Yet, my daughters are not my friends. While I hope they enjoy my company, and I certainly enjoy theirs, they are still my children. I am the adult, and I still crave adult friendships.
The reality is that my time is limited. I prioritize self-care, whether through exercise, reading, or writing — all essential for nurturing my well-being. However, these fleeting years with my little ones will soon be memories.
In what feels like an instant, my husband and I will no longer have diapers in the house. Our sleep will be mostly uninterrupted, and our lives will revert to a new normal, one without caring for little ones. I don’t want to rush through these years, even if some days feel overwhelming. I choose to forgo phone calls with friends, hoping they understand that it will be easier to connect in five years. For now, texting will have to suffice to keep our hearts connected.
In this moment, I am fully present with my children, conscious that my time as a mother of young kids is finite. My eldest has even started calling me “Mom” occasionally. When I asked her why, she tilted her head with a grin, as if she knew she was growing up.
I do miss my girlfriends. My sister is getting married soon, and I’m trying to figure out how to organize a bachelorette party around bedtimes and early risers. I miss the long conversations with friends in distant states and making plans to see movies that my husband might not want to watch. Yet, surprisingly, I miss these things less than I thought I would.
Somewhere along the way, my identity as a mother morphed from being a limitation of who I am into a fulfilling role that is enough for me — at least for now.
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Summary
In the journey of motherhood, Samantha Brooks reflects on the evolution of her friendships and the transition to raising two children. Despite initial struggles with time and social connections, she finds fulfillment in the moments spent with her daughters. As she navigates the challenges of parenting, she embraces the limited time she has with her little ones, recognizing that these years, though demanding, are some of the best of her life. Samantha acknowledges the importance of nurturing her well-being and maintaining connections with friends, albeit in limited ways for now.
Keyphrase: Motherhood and Friendships
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