Why being a mom of young kids is the most isolating job in the world (and what to do about it)

Lately the topic of young motherhood has been on my heart.   Perhaps it's because I'm faced with the reality that my kids aren't so little anymore.  Perhaps it's because I've somehow found myself on the leadership team of a newly formed MOPS group.  Likely a little bit of both and a sprinkling of good ole beginning-of-the-school-year mom emotion, but whatever the case may be, the truth is being a mom is hard.  I haven't hit the tweens or teenage years yet (sweet baby Jesus help me) but I'm entering into a sweet spot of motherhood where my kids aren't toddlers or babies anymore.  I'm still their favorite person.  They things they say send me into stitches of laughter almost daily. They are full blown kids with opinions, independence (oh yes Lord), an agenda, and unique personalities.  As I'm transitioning into this phase of motherhood I find myself reminiscing and reflecting on the baby and toddler years.  Although most of the time I shed tears each time a video pops up on my timehop app from 3 or 4 years ago, to be unabashedly honest, mostly I'm just glad it's over.  Having babies or toddlers (or both) is not for the faint of heart.  I was both a working mom and a stay-at-home-mom part during that part of my journey as a mom and I felt isolated both ways.  When I worked full-time I felt like all my friends were stay at home moms and that I was stretched too thin with both my family and my career.  Then when I became a stay at home mom, my life was ruled by naps and needy kids.  Even though I now had more time to be with my at home mom friends, we had now lost an entire household salary so I never wanted to spend money to go out and do anything.  No matter which way you slice it, being a mom of littles can be one of the most isolating, lonely, and draining jobs in the world.  Here's why and what I'd tell myself to do about it:

There is no built in village

I've written before about friendship and why my circle of friends seemed to dwindle after college.  In high school, you are forced to be around your peers.  In college you have a built-in community filled with classes, sororities, fraternities, social clubs, tailgating, and roommates.  It's almost an effort NOT to have a close-knit circle of friends.  Although reality comes crashing in when you leave the utopia that is college (if you were lucky enough to go to college) hopefully you retain some of those friendships and create some new ones in your workplace.  Although you don't exactly get to choose who you work with, there's still a camaraderie amongst co-workers.  Enter kids.  No, just because you have a kid doesn't mean you lose all of your friends.  But it does mean that your free time becomes a coveted commodity.  I think I was a lazy bum before kids.  I remember a time when the most responsibility I had after coming home from work was washing the dishes.  Pathetic as it may sound, there was as time when my kids were babies when I didn't call anyone or answer my phone because I didn't want to share my 30 minutes of spare time with anyone else.  Even though I desperately needed to be maintaining and building relationships during this critical and formative time in my life, I felt as if there was no time.  My village was no longer "built in" and I simply did not have the energy or feel the need to go get it, build it, and maintain it.

You are ruled by nap time

Even if you are one of those parents who goes with the flow, babies and toddlers still nap.  Even if you have one of those blessed portable nappers, you know the consequences you will face if you child misses a nap.  Even if you are into the stage where your kiddo is taking only one nap a day, that slumber is usually smack dab in the middle of the day.  No matter where you're at with napping schedules, they have the propensity to rule your freakin' life.  What does this mean?  This means that even if you decide you can pull yourself together and go have coffee with a friend, or go to that mom's group you've been saying you will try, or go to that playdate you were invited to, you will have a small window of time until you'll have to get the kiddo down for their nap.  Or even worse your plans may interrupt said nap time and leave you with no nap and all.  No nap = cranky baby = no mom time = cranky mom.

You are ruled by feeding time

I think the women who breastfed their babies for a year are rockstars.  The women who say they miss breastfeeding deserve a whole new realm of sainthood.  I was not one of these women.  Many of the nap time predicaments and restrictions can be applied here.  If your life is not ruled by napping it's ruled by feeding, whether your breast-feed or not.  When my kids were infants my life was lived in 3 hour increments.  They ate, they slept, and then they were awake.  In that order if we were lucky.  And it was a 50/50 chance that during their "awake time" they'd be fussing.  Although this schedule worked quite nicely for sleep patterns and well rested babies, it's not very conducive to forging strong friendships.

The dark and twisty thoughts

"Only 20 more minutes until nap time."
"Only 1 more hour until bedtime."
"I am sinking."
"I am a terrible mother."
"I don't like being a mother."

And those are only the dark and twisty thoughts I'm willing to admit.  Most moms I know have thought these thoughts or some version of them.  Thinking these things often leads to guilt.  In a world of seeing other people's highlight reels on social media, we are led to believe we are the only ones having these feelings and that we should chin up because motherhood is such a magical time!

You just have nothing left

Even if you can recognize that you need relationships to thrive and that you are not the only one thinking the dark and twisty thoughts, sometimes you just have nothing left.  There is a time in my motherhood journey that was particularly difficult for me.  My oldest was 2 and my youngest was 13 months.  Enough said, right?  In a matter of one week my husband was in a bad car accident leaving him with a broken foot and off his feet for weeks.  My son was diagnosed with RSV and on breathing treatments around the clock.  I had just taken on a new title with more responsibility at work.  I was literally drowning.   I considered it a victory to get through a day keeping everyone alive.


When I started this post, I thought I'd be cute and match up an anecdote for every obstacle I listed.  But to me, there is only one way to not only survive, but to flourish in the isolation that comes with motherhood is this:

Build your village

I wish I'd been better at this sooner and at such a critical time in journey as a mom.  Even for an extrovert like me, it's hard to put yourself out there.  It's hard to admit you need help. It's hard to meet new people.

But it is so worth it.

Having a village of people surrounding you with love, companionship, and validation can be the difference between surviving this phase of motherhood and thriving in it.  Simply knowing that you're not the only mom who has lost it on her kid that day or who's one year old is still not sleeping through the night can be the difference between isolation and companionship.

So how do you build your village?  This will look different for everyone.  Part of my village is my family.  My church community is a big part of my village. My village is made up of other mom friends that I invite to hang out with me, even when I would just rather watch one more episode of Gilmore Girls (#truth).

I had a bare bones village when my kids were in the baby phase.  When we were dealing with RSV and broken bones, I'll never forget my mom bringing me baked ziti and my best friend bringing me spaghetti that lasted for 4 days.  Church friends called and brought casseroles out of the woodwork.

During those super tough days of being a working mom, I intentionally connected with other working moms.

When we moved to Colorado this winter, I was literally starting from square one.  It was scary.  But I joined a gym, starting going to church, and found myself in a leadership position in a newly formed MOPS group.  Building your village means putting yourself out there and putting yourself out there is scary.  It's unnatural.  It has to be incredibly intentional.

But it is so worth it.