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As I parked my SUV filled with snacks and baby gear, a colorful sign reading “Just We Too” caught my eye and sent my heart racing. I glanced in the rearview mirror to confirm I still looked presentable, although the silence from the backseat suggested my five-month-old daughter, Lily, was also admiring herself in her smudged mirror.
I carefully unbuckled her and took a moment to appreciate her adorable tie-dye outfit paired with a bow that I wished would stay on her head. I quietly reminded her of our earlier “talk”: “Please don’t cry or scream for the next 45 minutes, and whatever you do, don’t let any accidents escape your diaper!”
With Lily in my arms, I stepped into the class advertised as the “initial step in socializing your child for school and future social settings.” Inside, a group of moms were chatting, and I could feel the sweat forming on my forehead. It was as if I were a nervous teenager on the first day of high school. Laughter echoed as moms effortlessly held their babies, making me wonder how I appeared holding Lily. Another group seemed deep in discussion over their little ones’ tiny nails.
Having moved to this town just before Lily was born, I had few acquaintances—mostly just the Weight Watchers lady and some empty-nest neighbors who brought a delightful fruit basket when we first arrived. This class was my chance to make friends…and for Lily to do the same. I hoped for a playdate and some adult conversation, dreaming of inviting moms over so our kids could play while we enjoyed coffee together. A lot was riding on this 45-minute session.
Suddenly, I felt a gentle tap on my arm and heard a compliment about my “awesome diaper bag!” I silently thanked my sister-in-law for encouraging me to buy it, and I introduced myself and Lily to this new acquaintance. We quickly bonded over our daughters sharing the same birthday. My nerves began to dissolve as we chatted about our babies’ milestones. She mentioned recognizing me from yoga class—perfect, as I loved a good downward dog. Just then, another mom walked in with the same diaper bag, and our conversation flowed until the instructor called us to circle time.
Unbeknownst to me, this was the beginning of a wonderful friendship. The moms around the circle were just my style, and they invited me to join them for lunch after class (Hooray!). We devoured our salads and swapped stories about sleepless nights and feeding challenges while soothing our fussy babies.
I felt like I had won the lottery when we exchanged phone numbers and set up our first playdate. That playdate blossomed into a weekly lunch tradition, which turned into “Girls Night Out” dinners. As our children grew—walking, talking, swimming, and playing soccer—so did our bond. Diaper bags evolved into backpacks, and soon our kids were learning to read, write, and create projects.
We celebrated birthdays, holidays, and summer barbecues, often sitting in one room while our kids played in another. We had formed a unique family dynamic, sharing every detail of our lives—from spats in our marriages to health challenges and everything in between. We supported each other through weight loss and kitchen renovations, borrowed dresses for fancy events, and spent countless hours on each other’s couches. Our “Moms Like Sisters” group chat buzzed with daily updates about everything from traffic woes to parenting frustrations.
As the years sped by, we navigated drivers’ ed, SATs, and all kinds of firsts together. Then, seemingly overnight, our kids reached their senior year, applied to colleges, and received their acceptances.
Now, it’s May. The nostalgia is overwhelming. Our days of sipping wine in the kitchen while our kids giggle in the background are coming to an end. The laughter that has been the soundtrack of our lives is about to fade, leaving a void that feels louder than the joy we’ve shared.
At my daughter’s college commitment party, surrounded by friends celebrating her decision to become a Gator, I felt a pang in my heart. Saying goodbye to my daughter is going to be hard, but parting from the friendships we’ve built over the years is equally painful. While we’ll still gather and support one another, it will be different without the familiar “tribal music” in the background.
“Just We Too” accomplished its goal, preparing our kids for college while giving us moms the camaraderie needed to navigate 17 years of motherhood. They should consider adding that to their tagline.
For more on navigating the journey of parenthood, check out this article from Make A Mom on essential home insemination kits, as well as Parents for insights on the IVF process. If you’re looking for more resources, this post offers valuable information.