Will You Be My Friend?

I've lived in the 'burbs for four years now. I'm getting the hang of it, finally...but making friends can still be challenging. I have friends, I do. But when you add kids to the equation, friendships have a tendency ebb and flow. For example, when my son was in class and best friends with this one boy, his mother and I saw a lot of each other, but now that the boys aren't in the same class, I haven't seen her in three months. Stuff like that.

So this new year finds me down a friend or two. I could use some backups. But nothing is more nerve-wracking than trying to chat up another chick. (It's worse than hitting on a dude--men are easy.) It makes me feel like an insecure tween all over again, trying to become friends with the popular girl in school. Shouldn't this get easier with age?

That's where the local kids' gym comes in. It's not in our town (there's nothing in our town), it's in the next one over, where we spend most of our time. The town has cool, quirky stores, an artsy movie house, and our kids go to preschool there. It fits us so well that I'm toying with the idea of moving there. I'll call it Priusville (what my husband calls it).

There's a group of moms I see at this kids' gym; they all live in Priusville and seem to know each other from before. My son is buddies with one of the women's son, so we've been to each other's houses for playdates. We're friendly though not quite friends yet. But at the kids' gym, she's got this whole other group. When I see them, I try to participate in their conversation but since much of what they talk about is Priusville-related, I often feel left out.

So I'll find myself standing there, trying to think of witty and relevant things to say, starting to sweat. After ten minutes, I can't hack it anymore. I'm stressed. So I go sit on a nearby bench, open my New Yorker, and pretend to read. I keep an ear on their conversation and whenever possible, chime in with a comment or two. One of the women was reading The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest, and since I've read the first two Stieg Larsson books, I chatted her up about it. No sooner had we started discussing the book, when my daughter began moaning that she needed help climbing the gym apparatus. I had to run off...conversation over.

I give myself pep talks about smiling more and being outgoing. Sometimes it works and I'm bubbly and engaging (which can be exhausting). Other days, I feel lazy and decide that a quick "Hello" will have to do. I hope the other moms understand and don't think I'm a bitch. 'Cuz then I'll never make new friends.