Friend or Foe: When Good Mothers Are Bad Friends

Welcome to "Friend or Foe," a regular Double X advice column for your queries about the trickiest of all love affairs: friendships. Lucinda Rosenfeld, author of I'm So Happy For You [2], a forthcoming novel about best friends, is now taking questions at lucinda@imsohappyforyou.com [3].

Dear Friend or Foe,

As a woman in my early 30s, I feel stressed and alienated by the pregnancies of my close female friends. Yes, I know these friends will be wonderful mothers. Yes, I adore them. Yes, I eventually want children of my own. And yes, I believe that birth is a glorious, joyful occasion for celebration. But these feelings of happy anticipation are overshadowed by fears for the future of our adult friendships, my own anxieties about if and how I will have rug rats of my own, and the sinking feeling of loss. Thoughts?

Sincerely,
Stroller Stress

Dear SS,

Here’s a little secret: Kids are great. And also—as my friend R told me before I had my own—you never love them so much as when they’re asleep. Please don’t feel jealous of your procreating pals. Feel relieved and thankful to have a few more years to enjoy your Sunday mornings (as well as your Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday mornings). The early years of motherhood involve fleeting moments of hilarity (as little Jane asks to borrow your space ship) and lump-in-throat-isms (as she crawls unbidden into your lap and asks, “Are you sad, Mommy?”), interspersed with hour upon hour of boredom (as you read Pajama Time! [4] for the fortieth time) and drudgery (as you dust-bust yet another dinner that’s been casually tossed on the floor).

But I understand that even a reminder that kids are a pain won’t mitigate your fear of not getting to experience 3-year-old bathroom “emergencies” in crowded shopping malls. All I can say is that, if you really want it to happen, your turn will come. You shouldn’t assume that family life will come between you and your mom friends, either. After I had my tiny terrorists—at (please note) the “advanced maternal ages” of 36 and 38—I actually found myself more inclined to socialize with my friends who didn’t have kids. Why? A) They were more available to come over. B) They were more inclined to sneak cigarettes on the front steps. C) They had gossip to share, having left their houses/apartments more than once in the previous week. In short, your friends aren’t going anywhere unless you want them to.

Sincerely,
Friend or Foe

Dear Friend or Foe,

Recently, after having dinner with girlfriend—I’ll call her Louisa—I went into my generic whine about not being married and wanting children (and worrying that it’s getting too late to do the latter; I’m turning 38 this year). Instead of Louisa offering the obligatory: “Hang in there; you’ll find someone, etc.”—predictable, maybe, but still reassuring—she said, “Well, you’ll just have to have a child on your own!”

I was hurt and appalled by the comment. For hours on end, I’ve listened to her complain about her husband doing zero childcare and housework, and how exhausted she is all the time, even though they employ a full-time nanny! Why on earth would she suggest I become a single mom when she’s barely coping? Honestly, when friends start imploring me to do something that they themselves would never dream of doing, I consider them to be friends no more. Am I being too harsh?

Sincerely,
If You Wouldn’t Want to Be a Single Mom Why Would I?

Dear IYWWTBASMWWI?,

Harsh is one way of putting it; more sensitive than Aveda moisturizer is another. Yes, Louisa could have phrased her suggestion better—that is, with a generous helping of flattery and disclaimers (i.e.“Maybe this is a crazy idea, but you’re so incredibly competent and energetic and loving that I’m actually starting to think if you don’t meet someone by 40….”—and didn’t. But I suspect she really did have your happiness in mind. She hears you saying you want a child. There’s no obvious husband standing in your path. So, why not start giving some thought to Plan B?

Keep in mind that women with children consistently want the other women in their life to have children, too. I don’t know why this is—play dates are more fun with your actual friends than with random parents you meet on park benches?—but it’s true. I say, call Louisa and make amends. She can complain about her do-nothing husband; you can complain about your lack of one. What’s not to like? By the way, it’s not clear to me whose situation is preferable—yours or Louisa’s. You have the future ahead of you; she has a bad marriage and, quite possibly, an ugly custody battle.

Sincerely,
Friend or Foe

Dear Friend or Foe,

My formerly close friend “Haley” vanished on me after I had a baby. Or, actually, she vanished even before then. She never came to my baby shower; never sent a present; never even came over to meet Gus after he was born! Fast forward 12 months. She’s suddenly reappeared, onesie for the baby and new boyfriend in tow—she was previously single—and seems to expect me to act as if nothing happened and that she was just “really busy” at work. But I still feel hurt! Should I say something? Accept her back into my life?

Sincerely,
Can’t Stop Holding a Grudge Against Formerly Negligent Friend

Dear CSHAGAFNF,

I seem to be in a forgiving mood today, but I suggest letting it go—at least for now. Clearly, your friend Haley was jealous and didn’t know how to deal with your expanding belly. Similarly, the appearance of her own potential sperm donor has made her less threatened by the sight of all those Build-A-Bears strewn across your living room floor.

If you do feel compelled to say something, I’d wait until you two were back in regular contact. Then, be sure to play up your own suffering rather than hers (i.e. “I don’t know if you realize this, but I felt really depressed and isolated after the baby was born …”) Jealous friends tend to be more receptive to atoning for their sins if they think you’ve been miserable, too. Also, if you make the conversation a referendum on her envy, she’ll be too embarrassed and ashamed ever to talk to you again, and you’ll end up right back where you started—unless, of course, you secretly want Miss Vanishing Act to vanish again.

Sincerely,
Friend or Foe

Have a question for Friend or Foe? Please email it to lucinda@imsohappyforyou.com