I belong to, arguably the oldest union in the world, “The United Federation of Moms.”
I was a probationary member the day the stick turned pink, but was issued my permanent card 14 years ago when I had my first child. I held my beautiful baby boy in my arms and became a proud member.
Whenever I'm facing a particular pesky parenting problem with one of my children, I fall back on the safety of my fellow members.
Mom: Why can’t I have ice cream for breakfast? Why can’t I jump off my bunk bed into 20 pillows? Why can’t I go without my hat and scarf during a blizzard?
I have found the quickest answer to be, “It's against union rules.” Believe it or not, this works most of the time.
Who but another mother knows what it feels like to love somebody so much you feel like your heart is going to explode?
Or be driven so crazy by the same child that you find yourself singing “brush your teeth and go to bed” to the tune of “Jingle Bells,” just because you're getting tired of your own voice and you need a little variety.
When I had my first child, Tom, we had recently moved to Queens from Manhattan, and I found myself a little isolated, caught between the world I knew and a world I hadn't completely accepted.
After four miscarriages, I finally had the most perfect, beautiful little boy known to mankind. I retired from my office job and was now a stay-at-home mom. I was thrilled, but I was also lonely. I missed the city and the daily interaction with my co-workers. The long hours my husband worked seemed endless, now that he was one of the few adults I had to talk to.
I needed friends and I needed them fast.
In those first few months, I used to joke that I felt like a single woman cruising the bars when I would go out searching for mom friends. I would walk through my neighborhood in Queens looking for women pushing strollers.
I joined a gym, took a baby-and-me swim class, and went to the library, but I had little or no luck. I might strike up a conversation with a mom or two, but they usually were on their second or third child and had an established group of friends. They were friendly and polite, but I didn’t feel I belonged.
My first year home, I went to my local Dunkin’ Donuts so often that the people behind the counter bought my son a Christmas gift. He still has the stuffed bear.
I still remember the day I met Debbie. She was walking to Dunkin’ Donuts, and I was on my way home. Our eyes locked, and it was kismet. We looked in each others carriages, joked about our lack of sleep and exchanged numbers. That was the start of many coffee, I mean play-dates, quieting and entertaining babies.
Soon after I met Debbie, we met a few other moms and formed a mother’s group. Our union local was born.
We cheered each milestone our children reached and worried when there was a problem. We saw each other through sleepless nights, trips to emergency rooms, speech delays, and the Terrible Twos.
The other day I was looking over some pictures from Tom's first birthday party, and there we all were. A group of extremely tired, but very happy moms. We were sitting in my basement that was decorated with Blue’s Clues balloons, holding our babies, and feeding them their first tastes of pizza and cake.
Eventually we moved from Queens. It was really hard for both me and a two-year-old Tom to leave the safety of our friends who had become so important to us.
But time moved on, and so did our friends. Our families expanded, the children got older, and soon schedules were filled with preschool and other activities. Time together got less and less frequent. New friendships were made, and new alliances were formed.
This Wednesday Tom graduates from middle school and will begin hIgh school in the fall. The other day I read a Facebook status that the oldest child in our group now has her learner’s permit. The babies that played in basements and playgrounds are now all teenagers who have little or no memory of each other.
But I will never forget them or their moms. I am forever grateful to those women and the memories I have from that very sweet time in my life.
I needed those friends to get me through the baby and toddler years, just like I need the friends I have today that see me through the fears and triumphs of the school years.
I am and will continue to be a very proud member of the United Federation of Moms.
Authors Note: The topic and main idea of this essay is from one of the very first posts I wrote for the dishwasher titled, The United Federation of Moms. It was first published in December 2010 when my blog was on Momster.com under the pen name, Blessed Mom of 3. I used it again as a guest post under my own name for the blog, Life As Five, in July, 2011. It then appeared on this site on January 19, 2012. The essay you read today has been updated from the original.