I’ve got mommy burnout — and I’m not talking about being a mommy, but rather about meeting and befriending others of my ilk. I know we’re all sort of in the same boat and it’s great to have women with whom to commiserate, but I just don’t feel the need to increase my “friend” roster. I’m tired of hearing the “lack of sleep” stories, the “she won’t eat” stories, the “meltdown at the mall” stories. If the kids are younger than mine, I’m really not interested. Sorry — been there, done that. I made it safely to the other side and I really don’t want to look back.
Don’t get me wrong — I’m happy to talk to my friends and compare notes or hear about their issues. I need that reassurance and support at times. I just don’t want to start having to keep track of a new mom’s set of problems. I took my 4-year old to the library today for the 3- to 5-year old storytime. It’s summer, I’ve got 14 hours a day to fill without resorting to all TV all the time, so I figured I would give the library a shot. After all, my kids love going there (and it’s free).
I sit next to one woman who has three kids and starts telling me they’ve been coming for years, since her son turned two (he looked about 4). On my other side, I’ve got a woman with an enormous double stroller that is blocking the way for others to sit. When asked by the librarian to move it to the back, she sniffed with offense and obliged unhappily. Her daughter was playing with some fake food and refusing to share with anyone.
I’ve still got young kids, but I feel so done with this whole scene. I have no patience for rude difficult parents, or their kids.
