I sit amid their company. I try to wrap my head around their conversations. I ask questions to understand. Are they speaking a foreign language? There’s a heavy emphasis on motherhood affecting marriage, career, and freedom but what gets lost in the chaos is friendship. A woman will find her motherhood tribe (we’re like magnets, I tell you) but the friendships with those who knew pre-mom me, with those who aren’t on the same path yet tend to shake a bit.

The days are just too different. They see the ends of the world; as a stay-at-home mom, I see the same four corners of the house. They engage with adults, thinkers, movers; I read Runaway Bunny, practice animal sounds, make play dough. Their days start when the sun sets while I look forward to my bed and silence. They are updated with the events, trends, news of today while all I can contribute is what formula to buy, what parenting blog to read (or avoid), what play school to go to — is anyone really interested in such ordinary things? It can be an odd thing seeing both in the same table. We’re living parallel lives. We’re both alive but we’re worlds apart…

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