It was book club night. First, let me just say that I feel a little weird being in a book club at all, but it gets me out of the house. I really like the women in my book club. They’re fun, intelligent women, but they are definitely not geeky. They’re not Martha Stewart either, obsessed with perfect houses, perfect children, etc. However, most of them would probably not think an iPod was a good anniversary present (my 10 year anniversary present). What’s nice about this particular group of women is that we all have our oddities. I’m into gadgets and the internet, someone else is into reality tv, another writes, another is a little obsessed with cleanliness, another with organic food. I’m the only full-time working-out-of-the-house mom. Two others work part time; the rest are at home full time. What we all have in common is the experience of raising kids and the chaos that brings to our lives.
Book club almost always breaks down into conversations about this chaos, often because we read books about that chaos or that at least touch on it. We tend to read books with female main characters and sometimes those characters are moms which we always find something in common with. Somehow we always find a way to turn the book we’re discussing into an opportunity to share the story of breaking down in the grocery store with our kids. “When she did that, it was like the time . . .” We know we’ll get sympathy and not judgement
Since I’m surrounded by men at work, it’s nice to share these stories with other women. Although they may not always understand my particular concerns as a mom who also works full time, most of the time, our situations are similar. We all have moments of guilt, moments of joy, moments of sheer craziness.
Despite the commonalities and the enjoyment I get out of their company, being with them does make me long for more women like me. I am sure they are out there, nearby; I just haven’t found them yet. I want to be able to talk about the grocery store breakdown and talk about my iPod and the blogs I’m reading. Right now, I’m having the, “My kids are driving me crazy” discussions with the moms and the geek conversations with the men I work with–and my husband. I can live with that, but maybe someday . . .
