Connecting

I hate getting together with my mommy friends. Mainly because I know conversation is going to either be about what our kids are doing or various details about our lives–in other words, small talk. A lot of the times while participating in these conversations, I feel like I’m treading water. I’m just trying to keep my head afloat until something interesting comes up or it’s time to go home. I’m not saying I don’t want to know what’s going on in the lives of my friends, just that I’d like there to be a little bit of meat to it.

For example, one of my friends was involved in an extended job search and her family was dangerously close to being both unemployed and homeless for a year. I was worried and concerned for her and I have no doubt she was worried and concerned. But on the surface, everything was presented very positively and very upbeat –the American way if you will. Something will turn up, we all said supportingly. Something always does! And end the end, something did! Hooray! But before then, there wasn’t any real talk of the emotions of the ordeal. She didn’t say she was worried. She said maybe she ought to be more worried, but she wasn’t. It was just emphasizing the positive while denying the fact that things could have ended very badly.

In other words, things were deliberately kept light and happy while avoiding anything that might possibly be distressing. But isn’t that what friends are for? Discussing those unpleasant topics, confiding your fears and concerns and being honest and open with each other? It’s all well and fine to talk about the things that are going on in our lives but what about our inner lives? I feel like I’m so eager to just meet someone what wants to discuss things bluntly and honestly that I would probably overwhelm her with all of my deep thoughts if given the chance. Then she would move and change her name, thus ruining any chance of me ever seeing her ever again because it would be that scary. So I don’t do that. I’m trying my best to write it out instead. The thread of conversation doesn’t get changed so frequently when it’s on paper and there’s only one person writing.

But there’s no connection with other people then, either. No one reading it to say, yes they know what you mean; they’ve been there themselves. There’s no affirmation that you are normal, no one to guide you further down your train of thought with thoughts they’ve had. No spark of inspiring ideas. No stimulation to that inner life.

Instead we discuss how so-and-so’s kid is doing this, how Jack won’t sleep, Johnny throws fits, there’s too much laundry, it’s so hard to eat healthy all the time, and so on and so forth. Safe topics both guaranteed to offend and inspire exactly no one.

I once burned a copy of a documentary I enjoy watching, called “The Perfect Home.” It’s based on the book by Alain de Botton and discusses the aesthetics and philosophy behind the kind of houses we built. I had hoped that the friend who was thinking about buying a house would watch it and be inspired but she wasn’t interested. But another friend was so I gave it to her, but she didn’t watch it saying she was too busy and would watch it later. Now, several months later, I wonder if she had. It would give us something interesting to talk about as it’s full of interesting ideas that I keep turning over in my mind about happiness, about the buildings we inhabit, about how we see our modern world compared to our past. But I don’t think she has watched it. In a lot of ways, I think she never actually intended to and only expressed interest out of politeness and was a bit taken back when I actually presented her with a copy.

It’s annoying when people you’re supposed to be close to are polite instead of honest. How am I supposed to understand someone as a person–what their interests are, what they like, what they think–if they’re only being polite? I’d rather be a bit sad and disappointed no one was interested then to think I’m barking up the right tree when it is in fact the wrong one.

Somewhere, there have to be parents that discuss interesting things or at the very least, parents who take the mundane details of everyday parenting life and frame them in an interesting manner. I just have to find them—preferably in real life.