Calling All Dorks: The Mystery of Mom Friends

Parenting ain’t easy. You’ve gotta deal with diaper explosions, toughing out the middle-of-the-night wakeups, and doing the other necessary things to keep the kids alive. With the many parenting horrors we have to face, sometimes one smaller horror slips below our radars when venting — socializing. The next guest post in the Calling All Dorks series comes from Candy at GeekMamas.com, who does a great job of talking about socializing as a parent.

Let’s start this by being honest and saying I suck at this “mom friend” thing. It’s just like trying to make regular friends (not so great at that either) but harder because you probably have nothing else in common except your mom status.

* I do thankfully have friends who just happen to also be moms, but I’m talking about meeting new friends.

I started by joining mom groups on Facebook. I concentrated on one active one thinking, hey I’m making connections! But then I got kicked out, right on the day I was having a total mom breakdown because I hadn’t had much sleep in two days and K wouldn’t stop crying. Previously that week I had tried to do a meet-up at the zoo with them and totally failed finding the meeting spot and tried to be like, hey no big deal, we’ll just play here at the water park area. Apparently that was seen as “blowing them off.” See? I had no idea how horribly offensive I am.

I also joined a local place where kids can go and play, and in all the reviews it talks about how people just LOVE going there and have met SO MANY great mom friends! But unfortunately I have not met one other person in the 3 months we’ve been going there. Oh, I say hi and smile. Ask the obligatory “How old is he/she” while hoping I got the gender right because sometimes I can’t tell and that seems to be a conversation killer right there. Then we both go off running in separate directions to chase after our kids. And therein lies the problem. Even when I actually do meet up with another mom, we get maybe a few whole sentences in the span of a couple hours. I’m starting to suspect people who make mom friends have kids that stay still and aren’t trying to hurl themselves from the top of the jungle gym or throw toy cars over the fence.

Also, moms are busy. They are terribly hard to set up a date with and easily cancel due to a million different things. The more kids involved, the harder it is to meet up. And no matter where you met up, it’s like hanging out with someone with a severe case of ADD.

So maybe I am a little sad I never had that magical moment where your eyes meet across the playground and you become lifelong pals as your kids grow up together. (That’s how it happens, right?) But at least I’ve got my little buddy to keep me company so I’ll never be alone on the playground.

Be sure to check out Candy’s blog here.

You can read the first post in the Calling All Dorks series here. If you have a funny/dorky story that you’d like to see poorly illustrated, then send me an email at dorkymomdoodles@gmail.com. (Old posts are fair game.)

Want to connect on social media? You can find me on FacebookTwitter, and Instagram.

Calling All Dorks: Baby Howie

The first guest post for my Calling All Dorks series comes from Becca, who blogs at the hilarious With Love and a Little Self-Deprecation. If you aren’t following her blog, then do so — she possesses a fantastic wit!

If you’ve ever purchased a house, you probably know that sometimes the previous owners leave things behind. A lot of times these left behind items tend to be mostly crap, but Becca’s “gift” was a little…different.

Her story:

We moved into our house in 2011. It has its issues, but there is a perfect spot for an extra tall Christmas tree, which is really all you can ask for in a home. (That 75% of the reason we bought this house. I actually did the math.)

I really can’t think of a better reason to make the biggest investment of your life.

But we have found that the real gift of this house hasn’t come in the form of ample space for Christmas decor, it’s Baby Howie.

When you move into someone else’s old house you assume that they will take all of their stuff with them. The family who lived in our house before us missed that memo and for some reason we skipped a walk through before closing. Probably because we were 26 years old and were simply too proud of ourselves for figuring out how to apply for a mortgage as fetuses to worry much about other details. And they had offered to leave their snow blower and ride-on lawn mower so we were literally distracted by something(s) shiny.

While there are at least 15 reasons I wish we did a walk through (including but not limited to the striped circus curtains left in the living room), Baby Howie is the one reason I’m glad we didn’t. You see, sitting in the rafters of our garage is a baby doll. Drawn underneath the doll on the rafters are a set of eyes looking up. And written under the eyes, “Baby Howie.” Most people think that’s creepy for some reason. Glen and I don’t. (Marry someone who gets you.)

Aww, you thought I was making a weird joke didn’t you?    That’s cute. But no. He’s totally real.

[Let’s get a close up on that — cue the slasher music.]

We readily accepted Baby Howie as part of the family. The small upstairs bedroom became “Baby Howie’s room” from the moment we moved in. We didn’t bring Baby Howie into the room, prevailing theory is that he is structurally important to our home so we can’t move him from the rafters, but it was his just the same. When guests came over for the first time we proudly brought them into the garage to introduce Baby Howie, because that’s how we treat guests at our home – give them cookies and nightmares.

Jack recently saw Baby Howie and asked about him so we explained that the doll was Baby Howie and that he lives in our garage. No, we can’t touch him, he has to stay there forever undisturbed. Being our son, Jack has accepted all of that as truth and checks in on Baby Howie’s well being on a regular basis. Every day that our daycare provider doesn’t call me asking about the baby living in our garage is a good day.

I don’t expect you to understand Baby Howie. He’s not for everyone. Just respect the fact that he isn’t going anywhere and now he’s officially part of your life too.

Let’s hope that Becca doesn’t hear a scurrying in the night and get up to check things out only to find this in her rafters. Dun-dun-duuuunnnn!

Would you keep Baby Howie or trash him? I say “Keep” because that’d be a hell of a thing to show guests. (And it might be enough to keep certain guests away.)


That wraps up the first post in the Calling All Dorks series. If you have a funny/dorky story that you’d like to see poorly illustrated, then send me an email at dorkymomdoodles@gmail.com. (Old posts are fair game.)

Want to connect on social media? You can find me on FacebookTwitter, and Instagram.