An Attempt at Talking Socially Acceptable

Most conversation that I have where I use my voice, (as opposed to typing at a computer) I try to maintain an appropriate political correctness, rather dialoging about topics that are generally regarded as socially acceptable.  (FYI:  I do include farting, pooping, labor and delivery stories, and breastfeeding issues as socially appropriate.) 

Therefore, in the majority of my social interactions with the outside world, I do not state the elephant in the room or tell you how I am REALLY feeling.  However, there are a few learned people who can read me like a book.  Very disconcerting.

The  Cell Phone Didn’t Save Us Time

Though the cell phone was supposed to save us sooooo much time (remember the commercial about the executive who got all of his phone calls done on the way to work – so once he got to work he left for the day?), we seem to have less time and more to do oddly enough.  And all that slips into a conversation is the perfunctory, “Hi!  How are you?  Things going well?  Good.  Gotta run!  Let’s catch up sometime, OK?  Call me.”

You never call.  They never call. 

Honesty Leaves Me Squirming

So when I read Sarah Mae’s words in the introduction of the book, Desperate (you know the one we are doing for book club with The Pelsers?) I felt myself glossing over her words.  Feeling slightly squeamish as I snuggled in bed with Ruth.

I didn’t want to go there.  Go to that time when I was down-in-the-dumps contemplating running into a light pole kind of blues. 

Depression.  Three times I have entered that pit and it isn’t pretty.

The Motherhood Secret

Yet even without depression I know that motherhood can be lonely.  It is hard work.  And while on average I am surrounded by four people constantly, I sometimes feel like I am on a solitary island.

Sarah Mae states,

It’s like a secret we fear sharing . . .

Well, share it sister.

I don’t mean that at the next baby shower instead of acting all gushy, giddy, giggly over the pink hats and blue socks, you tell the soon-to-be-mom that she will encounter endless diapers, ruined shirts, sleep deprivation, peri-sitz baths, sore and cracked you-know-whats that keep our babies alive and . . . . the laundry.

Being Real and Provide a Shelter

What I do mean is to be real.  To find someone further along in your shoes to watch and live life with.  Don’t over-monopolize this woman’s time . . . but ask her to listen to you every once in a while. 

And if you are a mom whose kiddos are approaching the 9 or 10 age . . . begin investing in those moms who aren’t sleeping.  Who are still purchasing diapers.  Who need a coffee dropped off.

Now, I talked too long.  Head on over to The Pelser’s with Amanda as she continues our discussion of the “Introduction” to the book, Desperate:  Hope for the Mom Who Needs to Breathe.

You can also find further discussion over on Amanda’s Facebook Page.

Be sure to leave a comment regarding your interaction with Sarah Mae’s words or link up with us in a blog post.

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