I’m Leaning On My Seasoned Mom Friends More Than Ever

You’re likely familiar with the phrase, “It takes a village to raise a child.” But how about “It takes a village to raise a child, and one to raise a mother?” The bone-weary, stressful, and confusing lows of motherhood require community. But so do the joyous, unexplainable highs.

And while I love my fellow mom friends who are in the trenches with me and can commiserate when my toddler is up at 4:00 a.m. for the fifth time this week, I currently find myself leaning most on my more “seasoned” mom friends.

These are the women who have been in my shoes before. They not only understand what I am going through, but they know that it’s just a phase from which I’ll come out okay on the other side of. More than that, they can counter my lamenting tales of toddlerhood with advice. It doesn’t matter that they raised their children ten, fifteen, or even twenty years ago–some things never change.

They give sage advice.

As I mentioned, my youngest is sleep adverse. Even as an infant, he was up at an ungodly hour each day. It didn’t matter how early or late we put him to bed or how many or how few naps he had that day. Eventually, our physician informed us of the fact that some kids “just don’t need as much sleep as others.” Lucky us.

Nevertheless, my husband and I were growing weary of the pre-dawn wake-up calls. When I lamented to one of my more experienced mom friends that I was desperate and thinking of trying a color-coded okay-to-wake alarm clock, she wholeheartedly encouraged me to give it a try.

I quickly crunched numbers in my head. These types of alarm clocks were relatively new and couldn’t possibly have been around when her now-teenagers were toddlers. How could she be so sure? My friend went on to tell me that long before alarm clocks like the HATCH were on the market, her engineer husband rigged a night light with a colored lightbulb to a vacation timer. If the light was on, it was still time to sleep, or at least quietly play in their room until the light turned off, at which point they were free to “wake up.”

My spirits were lifted by how over a period of several weeks, her kids went from getting up at 5:00 a.m. to 7:00 a.m. thanks to the ingenious night light. While she may not have been able to provide a certified review of the clock I currently had in my Amazon cart, her firsthand account was the hope and reassurance I needed.

They let me be vulnerable.

Aside from advice from my been-there-done-that mom friends, I love that I am free to be myself around them without pressure. There’s much less opportunity to compare yourself when you’re at different ages and stages of motherhood.

I met some of my closest girlfriends through a workout group. If there is one place that is often ripe for comparison, it’s the gym. We’re tempted to sneak glances at one another to see who’s the strongest or fastest and who can manage to make sweating look like a glowy sheen of an illuminator.

But nothing could be further from the truth with my group. After showing up to the first session with color-coordinated fitness attire and a face of freshly applied makeup, I learned I was silly to think I had something to prove. We’re all there to encourage and motivate one another. And, more often than not, it’s as much of a therapeutic talk session as it is a workout.

I now happily show up clean-faced, in whatever clothes I grab before dashing to get my kids on the bus. I don’t worry about how many reps I can do or that I’m not the fastest, strongest, or fittest (even if I am the youngest). The gym, a place often so rife with comparison, has become my haven of vulnerability. Home to a group of women who allow me to be my unguarded self. I’m so grateful for those who fill my cup again and again and never allow me to do motherhood alone. We’ve gone from a fitness class to a closely bonded group of friends who hang out, travel, and generally just do life together–even if it is at differing stages spanning twenty years or more.  

They have taught me empathy.

These women have taught me empathy, too. Part of being the least experienced mother in the group means I often don’t have solutions for the struggles or trials they are facing. I don’t have teenagers who are pushing the boundaries or ailing, aging parents.

But these experiences have taught me to show empathy even when I don’t understand or can’t relate. I’ve had to get comfortable with not having all the answers, which isn’t the easiest as an undeniably type-A person. Sitting with them through their tears has given me the invaluable skill of being a better listener and an understanding of what true empathy looks like.   

They’ve shown me how much we need one another.

These past few years, I’ve found myself leaning in hard to these precious women. I adore them for being my friend and letting me be theirs, too. For giving me sage advice, challenging my perspective, deepening my understanding of myself and my abilities, and always giving me a shoulder to laugh, cry, or just simply lean on.

That’s not to say we’re all better off with friends not of our age. On the contrary, the mothers of my generation frequently inspire me, and my same-stage mom friends harbor no hurt feelings when I forget to text back for weeks. If anything, I’ve learned that we all need each other–regardless of where we are on this crazy ride called motherhood.

Are you in the second decade of motherhood? Rachel shares all about what it means to be there, and how she’s navigating the journey!