Who’s going to play with me now?

by Marilyn on August 26, 2008

I’m sure you’ve heard me mention MOPS on here before.  Basically, it’s a group of moms of children who are 0-5 that meet twice a month and listen to speakers, have breakfast, participate in a discussion and do crafts all while their children are in “classes” of their own, doing their own activities and projects.  Most of all, it’s time off for mom, to recharge and talk with other women.  And for the last six years of my life, it’s been a lifesaver.

Six years ago, I was going to storytime at the local library with my then two yeard old (closing in on three) son.  Storytime was a way to get out of the house, be around other children and interrupt the monotony of the day.  I had no friends locally.  I was online, but not like I am now.  I felt very alone and lonely.  And I worried about Harry being socialized with other children.  He had no friends his age.  It was at a storytime that I met another mom.  She had a daughter that was Harry’s age and was pregnant with another.  She seemed perky and friendly and approached me after storytime to ask if I would be interested in joining her group.

Before I knew what was going on, she had some sign-up papers.  This was no mere playgroup.  There was registration forms!  And dues!  I wanted to take part because I was desperate for interaction.  But I was unsure about the cost.  Money was tight (when isn’t it?) and I wasn’t sure we could cover the dues.  So after telling the nice woman that I would be there, I had second thoughts.  I guess I would have to find something else.  I thought that would be the end of that.  But it wasn’t.  She nice woman called me after I wasn’t at the first meeting, wanting to know why I wasn’t there.  I explained to her, rather embarassed, the money situation.  She urged me to reconsider.  The church that was sponsoring this group was offering “scholarships” so that anyone who wanted to go but felt they couldn’t could still attend.

That sounded a lot like me.  So I went.  And I only missed one meeting in the next six years.  MOPS was a lifeline.  I attended MOPS during some of the roughest times in my life.  Infertility and treatment, pregnancy loss, broken bones, broken hearts, pregnancy and babies… The last six years of my life have been filled with major life events.  And MOPS has been there all the while.  Whether I had a baby, broke my ankle or lost a baby, there were always women there to bring our family meals.  Regardless of what dignosis I received at the doctor or how my thyroid was behaving, I could always go to MOPS.  While I couldn’t say that I made any best friends there, I did make some friends.

And if nothing else, for two + hours two Wednesdays a month, I had some place to go, somewhere to drop off my children and other women to interact with.   What more could I really ask for?

I just found out a few days ago that our MOPS group has, for lack of a better word, ended.  There was some difficulty in finding leadership, the hosting church (the church we happen to attend now, thanks to MOPS) is having budget struggles and, probably most of all, it is just time to move on.  It happens.  It’s still sad.  It’s the end of an era.  Does this mean I’m an adult now?

Probably not.

There are other MOPS groups in town.  In fact, a lot of the women from my old group are attending one group in particular and have sent along the information on joining, should I be so inclined.  I’m just not sure.  My introverted nature is rearing it’s head.  I don’t process change very well.  Would Liam do as well in an unfamiliar church with unfamiliar surroundings and teachers?  What about Evie?  I would probably have to put her in childcare too, which I haven’t done yet.  And what about when Harry is out of school in October and February?  At the old group, I would bring him along and he would either help Kile out while he watched the two year olds or go in with the 5 year olds and play/help there.  I don’t know if I could do that at this new place.

Plus there’s the unfamiliar church, unfamiliar people.  I would probably feel enormously out of place.  Where would I park?  What if I got lost?  Why am I such a flaming nerd?

So I probably won’t go.  Perhaps it’s for the best.  Maybe, after six years, it’s just time to end it once and for all.  I’m sad to see it end.  But maybe it’s just time.

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