When my little ones were toddlers, I was part of a lively crew of six to eight moms. Every Monday morning, we gathered at Lisa’s house, kids in tow—some in carriers and others just mastering their first steps—while the older, homeschooled kids dashed around teaching the toddlers how to scale baby gates. Each of us brought a dish, and the most popular among us would often show up with a tray of nuggets. We indulged in cake, cheese, sweet tea, and endless conversation. Lisa even helped one mom learn the art of side nursing for a quick snooze. We shared everything from co-sleeping tips to nursing each other’s babies. That was a genuine mom tribe.
Then Lisa moved away, and everything changed.
I once had a circle from my local babywearing group, but as I stopped wearing my infant and my now 5-year-old started getting reprimanded during our meetings, I drifted away from that scene. It was disheartening, especially since we had all supported one another through the loss of one mom’s daughter. However, the negativity that crept into our Facebook threads pushed me to flee.
Now, I find myself without a true mom tribe, and it’s tough.
That’s not to say I lack mom friends. I have a kayaking buddy, a fellow writer, a friend who always brings the laughs, and a deep-rooted friendship that has survived many ups and downs. There are a few homeschooling moms in the mix, but I don’t quite fit in with them—they always seem too busy to hang out. The moms from one co-op are lovely, but there’s an underlying sense of obligation, as if they’re simply trying to see the good in me. Again, it’s the busy homeschool life.
Three of my closest mom friends, including my bestie, have relocated in the past year and a half. The latest to leave dashed off to Ohio, taking with her one of the few people I could casually invite to meet me at Target. Now, I only have one mom friend left who can still do that. The moms who moved were my Target companions.
We used to frequent the store as a fun outing rather than just shopping. Now, I drag my kids along, and it’s a crankier, more whiny affair. I’ve cut back on random clothing purchases that once turned out fabulous, and my Starbucks runs are fewer. Plus, my kids have zero interest in hunting for clearance deals.
Even more frustrating is my dwindling list of reliable babysitters. Before my friends moved, I had three trustworthy sitters. Now, I hesitate to ask my homeschooling friends to watch my kids, knowing it would disrupt their entire day. I trust a handful of mom friends with my oldest but not my toddler. Scheduling doctor’s appointments has become a logistical nightmare, as I must coordinate them around my husband’s schedule. I still haven’t managed to see an eye specialist for a missed ductal plug, and good luck with gynecological appointments or finding time for a manicure.
Above all, I miss the wisdom a solid mom tribe provides. A good group has experienced moms who can help gauge what’s “normal” behavior for kids. Is it typical for a 6-year-old to throw tantrums? When should I consider my 3-year-old potty trained? I need someone to reassure me that it’s okay if my 5-year-old isn’t recognizing letters yet or that my 6-year-old still struggles with tying shoelaces. At the same time, I crave encouragement about their positive traits. I miss the good advice and the affirmations.
While the internet helps bridge the gap to some extent, with a fierce group of supportive moms who cheer each other on and answer questions, it lacks the in-person connection. There are no playdates, no girls’ nights out. The screen is a barrier that, while comforting, can’t substitute for real-life interactions. It’s both a blessing and a curse.
Creating a mom tribe isn’t something you can force; it either materializes or it doesn’t. I find myself hoping for one to form organically, like a hurricane fueled by warm waters. Whether you’re formula feeding, co-sleeping, using disposable diapers, or embracing homeschooling, I’m open to it all—just as long as you’re game for a Target run.
In summary, I have mom friends, but I long for a mom tribe that offers support, shared experiences, and genuine connection. The loss of close friends has left a void that’s difficult to fill, but I hold out hope for new relationships to blossom.