More Than Oblivious

Late this morning, I got a message from a friend of ours. We met her a couple of years ago. Super nice lady. Her message informed me she was in our neck of the woods and was in need of a smile and hug. I didn't hesitate to let her know the door was opened. I had just poured a glass of wine and was in the middle of housework. Her company was more than welcomed.

She stayed for almost two hours. We had a wonderful chat and a few laughs. After she left, I felt refreshed. Lighter. In good spirits. I realized I needed the company probably as much as she had.

Although I love being a work at home dog Mom and working at home is the reason why we're able to have 3 kids, there are times when I get lonely and feel left out. I don't have coworkers to socialize with daily, have drinks with after work or make plans with on the weekend. There are no holiday parties, special events, catered lunches, etc. I'm not invited to evening socials or themed parties. People don't stop by to visit.

My company does have a 'Happy Hour' every once in a while, a holiday party and the occasional luncheon, but they're all in Dallas, Texas. I'm in Connecticut. Need I say more?

I've been working at home for almost a decade. For the most part, I'm oblivious to the solitude and isolation. However, once in a while, I become hyper-aware. As I scroll through my news feed, I see the photos of cocktail parties, happy hour, girl's day, etc. The fun. Goofy selfies. The banter exchanged after the occasion between those involved. The camaraderie.

This is the point where I sit back on whatever piece of furniture I'm sitting on and go to that place. It's like a roller coaster through the past decade and my ride stops at various pivotal moments.

Socially, I'm awkward, and I know that.

When we first moved to our current home, almost 4 years ago, I put myself out there. I whipped up platters of baked goods for every occasion. I baked for people I didn't know. We entertained at our home for birthdays and holidays or "just because."

I listened to the happenings of what was going on with everyone else. Their work. Social life. Home life. I was interested in their updates and replied and complimented and congratulated. This interest was genuine.

However...

After a couple of years, that fizzled out. My choice. It got old. They were invited here, but I wasn't invited there. Often times, and still on occasion, I would only hear from people if they needed or wanted something. For the most part, with the exception of a few people who we now consider family, it was a one way street.

For the record, this isn't a pity trip. 

I take ownership. I'm not the most interesting person. My life revolves around the kids, my work, writing and the mundane daily stuff. I have very little time to dedicate towards caring about the latest fashion trends. I mostly shop online. Malls don't interest me. We don't vacation to exotic places. I haven't gone scuba diving in the ocean or jumped from a plane with only a parachute intact. There are some weeks I don't even get out of the house. I don't have a lot to offer in the area of "common ground" or exciting stories.

I also don't give two shits about what people think about me. This has probably backfired. I no longer nod my head in agreement when I clearly disagree with something. I don't beat around the bush. My tongue isn't sugarcoated. I embrace brutal honesty. Both ways. I don't want to talk about the weather or politics or religion.

I'm socially awkward.

At times, I've caught myself getting a little too excited when someone reaches out to me for advice, a favor or request. I'm willing to bend over backwards. I scrape the bottom of the barrel for anything that we might have in common. I respond with several paragraphs to their single sentence.

Fail.

I'm not going to lie. During these periods of being hyper-aware, it sucks. I become my own worst enemy.

Do I really suck that bad?

Am I boring?

Would I want to hang out with myself?

I try. I really, really try. 

Maybe too hard?

When I feel like this, I read through some of my favorite blogs. Some of them are mommy-of-human-kid bloggers. They deal with the same struggles. I want to reach out. Participate. Be a part of the conversation. Reply.

I'm immediately shunned because my kids are "dogs."

I consider myself likable. I have a sense of humor. I can make a room full of people laugh. I cook. I bake. I'm generous. I love wine. I have a kind heart.

And I'll stop there because that sounds too much like a personal ad quip.

Sigh.

Yes, I'm a proud dog Mom. I wouldn't change a thing. It's just that, once in a while, I'd like someone to call, email, visit. An invite. To be included. A chance. To be a face rather than just a name.

More than oblivious.