I passed by the big park at the top of our street on my way out to run some errands this morning and I was stunned by the number of moms there with their little ones. It's been such a cold, miserable winter and except for the little toboggan hill, the park has been deserted.
Spring has brought it back to life.
As I passed by it occurred to me that I'm a complete outsider when it comes to this little part of my community - this little group of people. I keep my yard neat and pretty, I pay my taxes, I clear the sidewalks of snow, I throw salt down when it's icy - but I don't belong at the park. I have no child to push on the swings.
Yes, I know I have every right to be there, but I don't belong there. Having the right to stand in the sand and watch the kids play doesn't make it something that anyone, me especially, would feel comfortable with. Just because I can go, doesn't mean I should. Or that I belong there.
I've touched on this with therapist lady. At my last session I was bemoaning the fact that unless you have a child or a dog, no one talks to you when you're out and about walking or gardening if they don't already know you. People nod and say a polite hello perhaps, but there's no stopping to chat.
And when I'm with someone who happens to have a child, I'm the forgotten blob beside the stroller with nothing to say. Which works out fine because no one is particularly interested in talking to a childless, dogless blob anyway.
This is sounding incredibly sucky. I know that. But it's really bothersome to have a whole little exclusive subculture right in your own backyard that you can't have any part of because you don't meet its membership requirements. Having a leash or a stroller gets you in.
I have neither.
I have a cat, but she views the outdoors as a great big scary room that she wants no part of. She's absolutely useless for membership purposes.
I'm extremely lucky that I have some very good neighbour friends (both moms) who don't give a rat's ass that I'm woefully under equipped. They're friendly with me regardless of my childless/dogless status. They're just friends. No rules or requirements involved.
But the community at large is my issue. The way it's broken up into clusters of haves and have nots, leaving the nots with our noses pressed against the park gates wishing we could come in.
I know that moms have every right to have impromptu gatherings in the park, and I know that mom & tot programs at the libraries and community centres are invaluable resources to new moms as well as stay-at-home moms. Okay, ANY moms.
But it doesn't make it any less isolating to see the groups and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I don't belong.
The only groups available for the kind of mother I am are bereavement groups. And that's just no fun at all.
Harrumph.
8 comments:
Well, you can hang with me. I include everyone in my conversations.
And hey, have you ever thought about doing something else that other neighbours might see and ask you to join in on? Like golf?
When they see the clubs or the tennis racquet or whatever, it might start a conversation which would lead to fun things like going out golfing.
Well, pooey on them for not stopping to chat. You'd have to get a restraining order against me if I lived near you and frankly, I'd need my own room if I lived on your street b/c, well, I am sure I'd be over. A lot.
And, if it makes you feel any better. Even though I have two kids which totally gets me into the club :whispers: sometimes I don't like those playground mummies and prefer to hang with my peeps on my own !
((Hugs))
I'll join you at the park gates. ; ) I too find I have very little in common with the neighbours & their kids & dogs. They're nice enough, & we get along fine. We just don't have a whole lot in common to talk about.
I agree with ladywithasong-- a lot of the park moms suck. But that is also not the point. The point is that this is yet another rejection for something you didn't choose, and in fact have been working so hard to change. It should be your choice to join or not, not another way for you to be rejected. I am sorry.
Just move across the country and I'll chat over the fence or in the park with you.
(((hugs))
On a happier note the Forget-Me-Not flowers that I planted two years ago on Thomas' birthday are just about to flower.
Preachin' to the choir, babe! Living in suburbia can suck sometimes when you don't have the human paraphernalia to legitimize it. And now that the weather is warming up, the strollers are coming out in full force. I can't stand it either! (Which is part of the reason that I'm looking forward to moving to a big city, where being childless won't make me feel like such a freak.) You may not have neighbours to gab to (and lord knows, that may be a blessing), but you can always talk to us lot!
I hate being on the outside, looking in.
Well you are one of the most fabulous people I have ever met in this world, so every person who walks by you without striking up a conversation missed out on the opportunity of a life time. I wish you didn't have any reason to feel this way though :(
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