Dear New Mom at School

grease-grease-the-movie-2984139-1600-900Dear new mom at school,

I”m sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you.

I was likely caught up in something or other, even if that something or other was taking care of my need for caffeine or adult conversation. It’s likely I was catching up with friends, trading summer vacation stories, cracking wise about back to school being the most wonderful time of the year. I may have even seen you standing over there, hiding behind a coffee cup or a table leg, looking for a way to stick a toe into the small, tight clusters of people dotting the cafeteria landscape.

I should have made more of an effort because not that long ago I was the new mom at school. I remember how intimidating it was to walk into a room full of people who seemed to know each other, people catching up, trading war stores; a room full of people who weren’t worried about their fourth grader settling in or fretting their second grader would falter. I remember what it was like to walk into a room of people already familiar with the school and the curriculum and the teachers. It wasn’t that long ago I watched folks hugging and smiling, laughing that kind of openmouthed, head back laugh that friends laugh with one another, wondering if I would find friends like that: right before my train of thought derailed at “Ugh, I can’t believe I have to do this again.”


I’m sorry I didn’t make my way over to your corner. I remember how much effort it took to make small talk, how I just longed to hop in a souped up DeLorean and zip line six months back to the future. I remember what it was like to struggle to remember the fifty new names being shouted over the noise–forty-seven of which I’d never heard before and would need to have repeated at least a hundred times before I got them right. I remember what it was like to wear a smile on my face even though all I wanted to know was where to get black beans. I remember having so many questions and yet not wanting to seem dumb or pushy or loud or clueless; of trying to be interesting or cool or at the very least, not annoying. To make enough of an impression, but not too much of one. It was exhausting. It was confusing. It sucked.

So I’m sorry if I didn’t properly introduce myself, or if I seemed more interested in what someone else was saying. I’m sorry if it seemed like I cut you off or didn’t answer your questions. I’m sorry I didn’t give you my phone number or my e-mail or told you to come on over if you see me hanging out in the playground, or to come sit with me at a table if I’m having coffee with a group of people in the mornings.

gal-grease-2-jpgSo I’m telling you now. Come over. Pull up a chair. Because even though I remember, most of the time I forget. I get wrapped up in something or caught up in conversation or tied up with details. I am to-ing, fro-ing, running on half a cup of decaffeinated empty. Sometimes I’m too impatient to relay information or make sure my kid’s got a ride home from football practice. Sometimes I’m in dire need of a coffee. Sometimes I’ve had a fight with my husband or my kids have pushed me to the brink. Sometimes I’m tired or bitchy. It has nothing to do with you.

But most of the time, I simply forget what it’s like to be new.

So don’t let the laughter intimidate you. Don’t let the circling put you off. In my case, don’t letBESTFRENCHIEaussieluver the pink hair or tattoos put you off either. If I don’t smile, it’s probably because I didn’t see you. If I don’t invite you to sit with me, it’s probably because I’m caught up in my own dramas. If I ask you to repeat your name, it’s probably because it was too loud to hear the first time I heard it. If I rush by, it’s probably because I’m looking for a kid who’s forgotten his lunch money.

We were all there once. Most of us will be again. And we all remember. Even when we forget.





2 thoughts on “Dear New Mom at School

  1. Elyse August 16, 2015 / 3:35 pm

    Been there, too.

    When we returned to the US in July 2002, I didn’t know many people in the town we settled in. Luckily, I met a couple over the summer. When there was a parents’ lunch just before school started, I was sitting with the few people I knew at a full table. A woman I’d never seen before grabbed a chair from another table and asked to join us. We all politely shuffled over and made room.

    “I’m new here. This was the table of folks who were laughing the most, so I figured I’d fit right in.” and she did. I was completely impressed by her confidence.

    She said later that she moved a lot and used to just hang back, but by the time she made friends, she’d have to move again!


    • Dina Honour August 16, 2015 / 3:51 pm

      Good for her! Even I find it intimidating and I’m far from shy. I guess the more you do it, the more used to it you get. But we always fret about the kids, when often we have even more trouble making friends!


Talk to me, Goose.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s