How To Make Friends

or, How I Made Friends,

or, Things To Do That Will Make Making Friends Easier,

or, Lots of Advice That May or May Not Be Helpful

Every time I tried mentally organizing this post, it came out sounding like a diet-program testimonial. (Wacky coincidence, seeing as I certainly wouldn't *read* diet-program testimonials.) "I was pretty lonely, but then I applied these simple methods, and now I have friends! Tons of friends! I have to circulate a sign-up sheet to fit in all their phone calls! I have so many friends that I couldn't possibly add another until one of my current ones dies!" So as you read, please don't take it as saying that this is a foolproof and exhaustive method for dispelling loneliness. I simply jotted down a few things that have helped me make friends in my new married-with-kids life. (For instance, I don't include 'bribes to make people like you,' but that could be effective on some level).

1. Be approachable. I'm probably revealing a lot about myself here, but it seems that when we grow up and have to make friends as adults, we haven't quite left behind those junior high insecurities. And if you think you look or sound like a dork, and that the other women are going to laugh at you behind your back, then guess what? You're not going to be as welcoming to new friends as you might could be. Now, I was a member of a MOMS Club for four years, and I saw lots of junior high holdovers... including women laughing at others for being dorky. But somebody has to be the grownup, and if it's you, you'll attract the other grownups.

2. Make a date. If your acquaintance says, "We should get together and let the kids play sometime," then your answer should not be, "Yes. We need to do that." Stop. Rewind. "I'd love that! I'm free most mornings. How about next Wednesday?"

3. Accept invitations. Yes, I know, "duh" -- unless you're something of a homebody, like me, and you're a whole lot better at pity-parties than scrapbooking parties. If you are invited to lunch, a playdate, a party, then make the effort to attend. I'm a complete hypocrite, by the way: I blatantly ignored a Pampered Chef invitation last month, from someone I really like and haven't seen in months. Why? Because I hate "paying parties" and it's easier just staying home. Only you don't get as many invitations after a while...

4. Move beyond Mommy Talk. It's a grand thing to share advice, sympathy, and laughs over this bewildering adventure called motherhood. But even adventures need subplots. When you find yourself talking audibly about "pooping" in public, it's time to move the conversation to a new track. The best way to do it is to have questions in mind and work them into the conversation. For instance:

* Where are you from originally?
* What do you enjoy doing to relax?
* Books? Movies? Shows?
* How did you choose your children's names?
* What does your name mean?
* Let's talk about names, names, names
* Sorry. Got carried away there.
* But that's what happens to conversations around me, anyway. We always end up on names. Odd.

Is the idea of scripted questions corny? Yes! That's why nobody does it, and it's why you're stuck talking about potty-training week after week.

5. Invite people over. This is a sadly-neglected relic of our social past. When was the last time you got an invitation to someone's house? Well, except for a paying party, grrr. You don't have to invite people over for an all-afternoon barbecue. "Would you like to eat dinner with us? About 6:30 on Friday," works just fine. If you can't do dinner, invite them for dessert. You can have a great visit from 7:00 to 9:00, and still get to bed in time to get up for work, school, or kids tomorrow. Dessert is also a great way to invite large families over without having to fit everyone in for a meal. We hosted a family of 10 for ice cream almost effortlessly.

6. Keep in touch by email or phone. Again, I'm a hypocrite here, but only because I don't manage my time. Way too much time blogging, and not as much sending emails to non-blogging friends.

7. Converse, don't talk. I had one acquaintance, Liz, whose idea of conversation was to wait for the other person to stop talking so she could pick back up again. The friendship did not blossom.

8. Admire other people's talents, taste, and children. I don't mean you should pile on the, um, flattery to get them to like you. Instead, look for things to appreciate. It helps you step outside yourself if you notice what others do well... and it certainly doesn't hurt others' feelings, either.

As for admiring their children, the flip side of that is not to expect them to admire yours. Liz, mentioned above, could not conceive that I didn't find her child as amazing as she did. Everything he did, from smiling to gaining weight to sitting up by himself, was commented on and displayed. Did Miss Mairzy want her children admired, too? Yes, class! Did Miss Mairzy get tired of having to gush over The Wonder Child? Yes, class! It wasn't that Liz was superior about it -- she was a very good-natured person. She just forgot the cardinal rule of interaction with other moms: Only you think your child is that cute. (The friendship, I repeat, did not blossom.)

9. I did a lot of praying, which may or may not be applicable to your particular worldview.

10. And, of course, there's always the possibility that... well, she's just not that into you. But you never know till you try.

Some friendships start out with a sparkle, but even those take a couple of years to mature into deep heart friendships. Be patient, be friendly, and expect to have friends.