Interviewing Potential Mom Friends Could Save Us All So Much Time

by Elizabeth Broadbent
Unsplash / Pexels

So you’d like to be my mom friend. That’s awesome. As much as I’d like to put my arm in yours right now and skip on off to the local Target, I’ve been burned before: by drama, by one kid bashing mine on the head with a rock, by people suddenly and vitriolically turning nutbag. So there are some things we need to get out of the way, right away, if we can be mom buddies. I don’t have time to play around anymore. I got laundry to do and psychic energy to preserve for small munchkins who tug on my pant legs and inexplicably take their clothes off.

Do you respect my parenting choices?

I’m a hippie attachment parent. I don’t care if you formula-feed, crib-sleep, and let your kid cry-it-out. We both did research, we both made our own decisions, and even if we think the other is wrong, wrong, wrong, we need to respect each other. No faux-respect — and you know what I mean by that. “You let your kid cry it out? Oh, how did that work out for you?” Nope. That’s passive-aggressive bitchery right there, and I don’t have time in my life for it.

Do we have kids around the same age, neither of whom is a human version of Chuckie?

It’s easier to be mom friends if our kids are friends too. That gives us more time to sit back and drink sweet, sweet coffee while they destroy parts of the house we’re not presently looking at. They need to like each other too, and neither should be a bully.

Do you realize babies and toddlers will hit, scratch, kick, trip, and bite?

Small children are savage. They have no sense of empathy or morality. If you don’t realize that, we can’t be friends. You can’t freak out when 1-year-old Precious is on the business end of a beating. He’ll be dishing it out the next day. You think you get mad when he’s bitten? Wait until he bites someone. You’ll want to become one with the linoleum. Get to the point where you laugh it off and discipline him, and we can talk.

Do you seek to remove all extraneous drama from your life?

That means no gossiping, backbiting, secret-telling, or rumor-mongering. It means you don’t vaguebook on the reg just for attention, and you’re not a member of secret Facebook message threads created solely to bitch about other people. This crap just sucks the life out of everyone involved. I don’t have time to be a part of it. Take your mama-drama elsewhere.

Are you easily grossed out?

I know parents who are disgusted by the Nosefrida. The Nosefrida, snot savior of us all. You must be open to discussions about poop (color and consistency thereof), labor (in all its bloody, flesh-rending glory), breastfeeding (you’re going to see my tits), potty-training (and the pee on the floor), and menstruation (options thereof, including Diva Cups. The word “cervix” will be used). These are just for starters. It can get down and dirty really quick, especially when we talk about postpartum sex. I don’t want to censor.

Do you have political opinions?

Hopefully, they’ll match up to mine. However, they may not. That’s okay, as long as you have well thought-out reasons for them. I was once good friends with a six-day, six-thousand-year-old Earth creationist. I just ask that you have opinions, which you actually care about, and that you respect mine. It would be great if you were up to speed on at least a few Supreme Court Justices, the case that allowed abortion, and what Obamacare is. This is just so we can bitch about political things.

Do you want to talk about something other than poop?

We need to talk about poop. We need to talk about poop desperately, especially when it’s not happening or it is happening too much. But we also need to talk about other things, like current events and hair dye and the latest secondhand clothing shop and how to make chicken soup and on, and on, and on about things that do not have to immediately do with our children. If you want a mom friend who just wants to talk about your baby, look elsewhere. I require at least a 50/50 ratio of baby poop to adult talk.

Do you want to go to Target?

Of course you do.

Things I don’t care about, and expect you not to either:

Whether or not the laundry is done

Whether or not the house is clean, unless you’ve reached roach level Whether or not the dishes are done If you let your kid CIO If your boobs are for recreational or practical usage How old you are If you’re a SAHM or SAHD or a working mom or working dad, as long as you like Target If you’re gay, straight, poly, or whatever (love is love is love)

If you’ve passed said interview, congratulations. Now let’s go to Starbucks.