Our kids can teach us how to make friends as parents
Kids don’t really seem to have an issue making friends. Most of the time, you’ll see them go up to a new kid, ask if the other kid wants to be friends, and they will hold hands, walking together toward the sunset.
And just like that, the bonds of friendship are formed. Years down the road, your kid will remind you of the time they met so-and-so at the park and ask if they can have a playdate, like they are some long lost friends whose only chance of happiness is reconnection, and you will only have the vaguest idea of who this mystery kid is. But your kid, of course, will assure you that this was the best friend they’d ever made, based simply on a few games of hide-and-seek and a game of tag.
This seems simple and romantic but in the adult world if someone approaches you this way you assume they are out to sell you on their multi-level marketing scheme or that they need “just a few bucks. Anything will help.”
After so many of these encounters, we are left assuming that whatever friends we have by age 25 is it — meeting people is awkward and most people already have more friends than they can keep up with. Our time is up.
A few weeks ago, me, my kids and a David Sedaris book found our way to Imaginon on one of CMS’ botched snow days. I’d planned on letting my kids play and read while I sat unbothered, enjoying my book and one of my last days of pregnancy.
The area we’d chosen was stacked with kids whose moms had the same idea and I figured my kiddos would have no shortage of new comrades with whom to share their space and imaginations.
Just as I sat down and was about to get deep into some Sedaris, a fellow mom called out to me, completely derailing my plans, causing me to rethink my introverted existence and why we’d chosen the busiest part of the library. She knew my name, which left me feeling violated but familiar, like I had some sort of mild celebrity status.
The mom recognized me — or more likely, us — from my Instagram and boldly introduced herself when most would pretend they’d never liked a single photo and would stealthily grab their iPhone to unfollow immediately.
I considered for a moment simply acknowledging her and returning to my personal solace but instead, in a split-second decision, chose to engage. What started as a greeting ended up with me moving across the room to sit next to her, and she and I talking for hours, well beyond our free 90 minutes of parking and well beyond how long even our kids wanted to stay.
We exchanged our stories of ugly divorce and the reality of single-parenting. We gave each other advice on how to handle ostensibly unnavigable co-parenting issues. We gave each other hope.
These types of connections don’t happen often but they are possible. Sure, it is unlikely that every parent I sit by at a public library will share my history and offer understanding, but the concept of adult-onset friendship (working to trademark this) is not an elusive one.
We can learn something from watching our little humans interact with one another. We can see that friendship doesn’t have to be scary, that we can let our guards down. While the introvert in me would have loved an afternoon of reading, the more human aspect of me thrived on connection with another human, another mom who could simply offer an “I get it.”
Photo: John D. Simmons/Charlotte Observer
This story was originally published February 7, 2017 at 8:32 PM with the headline "Our kids can teach us how to make friends as parents."