The Dating Game

I became pregnant. My life changed. Completely. Gone were the days of drinking, staying out after dark, playing on stage I was in a band, I'll tell you about it one day.... 

I was part of the party. Perhaps I was the party.
The chase of the thrill was gone. I GOT BORING to most some! I get it I do.
It was apparent that it was stranger for others to accept that I was having a baby, than it was for myself. Isn't that strange in itself? 

As my world got smaller, good friends stayed as others drifted away. I decided it was time to make new friends. Fellow mothers, sharing experiences, walks and strong coffee.
It's where the next chapter began.....THE DATING GAME.

Been there, done that, definitely didn't think I would be doing it again, ever.


But there I was, attending baby groups, keeping my eyes peeled for a suitable match. Someone who I thought could be a potential friend.
Approaching many, conversation would stay on the same tracks of course. Along the lines of; babies name, age, first or second baby, night feeding, sleep deprivation, weaning, what other groups you attend / are planning to attend, etc etc sound familiar?

Chat was nice, until it became draining to real off the same spiel every other day and week.
But to make friends you have to do it don't you?
You also have to be brave, be bold, take that extra step and... ask for their name. YES the mothers name. Well blow me down. That is forward isn't it? What ever next, a suggestion of meeting up? But to do that, you will have to ask for a telephone number. Could I really be that out there?

Oh I was. I really was. At one stage I was throwing the question 'So shall we swap numbers?' about at the same rate I was throwing nappies in the bin.
I accumulated a few. Always stored as 'mothers name, followed by baby's name / group we met'.

What's next? Do I txt or call? How long do I leave it? Is it too forward desperate to send a txt an hour after meeting, saying how nice it was to meet them, letting them know I was available for getting together that week? Often I did. And why not? I wanted mama mates and by god I was going to get some.

The mothers meetings happened. At The bungalow. At the park. At the cafe. At their humbled abode.
It went well. Mostly. There were the times I was so sleep deprived I couldn't keep my eyes open, overdosing on caffeine, palpitations and hot flushes, words failing me. Departing I would cry, sure that I had ruined a budding friendship. And I was right, I think this anxious jittering wreck was not a friend that they had in mind, well would you?

I did not let this put me off. It only made me stronger, more determined, sleep deprivation will not hold me back.

And it didn't, eventually I met some lovely ladies who seemed as keen on swapping their digits as I did I think.
I don't recall who said it first, it doesn't matter. It was me, it was me.
The same conversation was spoken, only it wasn't as mind numbingly tiresome, there was a spark. We hit it off. I knew there could be something special.
And I was right. We are still friends. Although we don't see each other much, we have a mutual understanding that that is just the way it goes.
The occasional meet up, exchange of tiredness woes, tea breaks and a stroll in the park is just the way I like it.
I even shed a tear and minor panic attack and no numbers were changed.
Thank you!
And I am working on the anxiety thing. It creeps out at the odd group, but I can accept it. I mean, if you don't feel slightly agitated after fourteen months of waking up numerous times a night, do I sound bitter, you'd be like, some kind of Angelina Jolie, and we don't want that now do we....