Calling all Broke-Ass Moms

Anyone know where other Broke-Ass Moms hang out? Yeah, I can’t find them either. But I know you’re out there. Maybe you’re lurking through the Goodwill bins for a Halloween costume, busy composting your coffee grounds, or reading the latest book you checked out of the library with your toddler today?

The bad news is, I don’t know where to find other Broke-Ass Moms either. In fact, I’ll go one step further. Since becoming a Mom over two years ago, my Mom’s Group membership card is about to be revoked due to under-use. According to one of my non-Mom friends, I should be attending at least one birthday party a month by now (I’ve only attended three in the past two years, and two were my own son’s). Besides the obvious problem of scheduling (no one seems up for brunch at 8am these days), I can’t find another like-minded Broke-Ass Mom who wants to play with us. I’ve considered putting out this ad on Craigslist:

Broke-Ass Mom seeks other Broke-Ass Mom who gets to spend her days with her child. This BAM enjoys traveling, cooking, knitting, running, reading, writing, and exploring new places with her toddler. She does NOT enjoy mani-pedis on a weekly basis, luncheons with the ladies every Tuesday (although we LOVE brunch), reading trashy novels, or gossiping about other Moms that may or may not be up-to snuff. Most of all, as a BAM you enjoy coming up with crafty ways to not spend a ton of money and still entertain both yourself and your child. If this interests you, please respond, if not, keep moving.

I haven’t posted this ad yet, but I might just get desperate enough.

The other thought I’ve had is the newfangled online thing called, “Meet-ups.” My husband joined the “Dads in SF” group when he was a SAHD, but they only met on the weekends. Instead, he opted for picking up other dads and babies at the park or museum. Surprisingly, he met two other dads this way. I haven’t had as much luck. I’m shyer than he is (I know you can’t tell by reading my articles, but I swear it’s true). The other day at the park, I ran into a woman with twins, and she seemed really nice and intelligent. I just can’t seem to get up the nerve to say, “Hey, wanna hang out someday?” Instead, I’m at “Hey, I’m Jennifer, what’s your name?” She tells me her name, and the conversation is over. Dammit. I still have some work to do on my pick-up line I guess.

Making friends as a single person was easy. It was as simple as sitting on a stool at the bar and turning to my left (or right, whoever looked more interesting). I didn’t have to care if they were going to be my new best friend or stalk me for the next six months. But now that I have a child suddenly it all matters. Now I have to care about parenting styles, whether someone is intellectually stimulating (ideally more stimulating than a toddler), and doesn’t cuss too much (although I can’t judge considering my child thinks the word “Crap” is hilarious). Instead of finding this person I keep running into women gossiping about preschool, talking about their ski house in Tahoe, or who don’t speak English. None of these women are “my BAM”.

But just in case I do meet someone, maybe the easiest thing to do is pass out a Broke-Ass Mom business card. If I had business cards, then I wouldn’t have awkward conversations like “Hi. My name is Jennifer.” Instead, I could just hand them a card and they could call or email me if they’re interested. I haven’t done this either, but it’s been three months as a Broke-Ass Mom and my toddler and me are not getting any younger.

Photo by : Impeti Design to be used for example only

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About the author

Jennifer White - Mommy No Bucks

Jennifer has been a bit of a nomad having lived in seven different cities. Her life as a gypsy has settled down for the moment in San Francisco with her husband and two-year old son. Recently, she decided to throw caution to the wind, quit her job as an analyst to be a full-time mom while chasing her dreams (and the Pulitzer Prize). When she's not writing, she's aspiring to be a luddite (although blogging isn't helping), knitting the occasional hat, or running in the park with her son and his secondhand compost truck in tow.

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