Why I had to edit my friends once I had kids

When I had my first baby, I was pretty much the first cab off the rank amongst our social group to become a mum.

Back then my friends were divided into sub-groups like, oh you know: long-time school friends, work colleagues, nocturnal partying friends and 6am smoothie gym friends. 

All those child-free friends visited me in hospital of course and were super excited. All my girlfriends wanted to hold my bub. Preferably in front of their fiance/husband/boyfriend and preferably when the baby was peacefully sleeping so they could convey silently: look at what a great mum I’ll be babes.

So while there were plenty of future-mummy friends, there were no now-mummy friends. And once I left hospital the visits dwindled. Significantly.

So I tried to join a mothers' group to meet other females who'd just given birth and couldn't sleep. Like me.

It was a spectacular disaster. I felt completely hopeless because everyone else seemed to know what they were doing. And I couldn't even fold my pram up.

So I cried all the way home. 

Then I started to ring my usual go-tos.

One girlfriend started getting stroppy with me on the phone, because she said I just didn’t listen to her anymore.

Too true actually. After pushing a small human out of your vajayjay, not being able to walk for 10 days and learning to breastfeed, problems like whether to get skinny or boyfriend jeans just don't cut it. And I stopped listening

I persevered with another friend. She struck me as sweet and supportive. But post-kid, she was more snarky than sweet.

She was jealous that I'd had a baby. I know because she told me. She also kept cancelling our catch-ups. She preferred heading out to wine with other friends.

I finally told her I could not be friends anymore. The reason? After I executed a monumental morning of feeding, changing, dressing, getting in car and somehow getting dressed and made up myself for a mid-morning coffee outing that I was beside myself excited about (isolated new mothers will understand) — she cancelled on me. Oh you know, because she was tired.

That was it for me.

But there’s a happy ending. Not with that friend. Oh no. I don’t look back when it comes to lacklustre boyfriends, friends or even bad service at a restaurant. I’m a handful-of-chances kind of gal.

I’ve created a much more, shall we say, relevant friendship posse.

I’ve nurtured a friendship with my darling neighbour who has similar-aged children. Because one thing I’ve learned is mummy friendships blossom when you’re in close vicinity – because you can give each other practical and emotional help.

Next, I have delightful single mother girlfriends who can get together for tacos when we have all the children – and head out for wine when we are child-free.

I've also got a kickass boss who understands the flexibility needed to run a household and a big job. Because you don't have to be a mum to empathise with one.

And finally, a delightful man in my life who, as well as being everything one dreams of – has two children of his own and fits into my life like the last piece of a colourful and intricate puzzle.

My father always said you can count your true friendships on one hand. And he was right. Choose carefully.