The Social Cost of Early Motherhood

"Why do I feel so socially awkward?” I asked my friend. Her response was simple and made so much sense, yet it had never occurred to me. She explained how I was probably just feeling out of practice in social settings because I’ve spent this last year and a half talking to myself, my infant child and a tiger hand puppet.

Which, now that I think about it, is less of a personality flaw and more a very specific career path - motherhood.

Because somewhere between sleepless nights, snack negotiations, and narrating absolutely everything for a tiny audience who cannot yet pronounce the word banana, I appear to have forgotten how adults communicate. I can soothe a meltdown with the calmness and composure of a hostage negotiator, but ask me to make polite conversation and suddenly I’m buffering.

The problem is that when your daily dialogue sounds like, “Well done for using your spoon,” “No, we don’t eat that,” and “Mr Tumble is far too stimulating before bedtime,” your social instincts adapt accordingly. Then an actual grown-up starts a conversation and you just freeze.

And let’s not overlook the tiger hand puppet, who has been carrying much of the conversational load. He’s charismatic, has endless unflagging energy and is always ready to validate my dramatic retelling of why we do, in fact, need to wear socks before putting our shoes on. But he has one major flaw: he is terrible at preparing me for a two-way mature dialogue.

So if I seem a little odd in conversation, if I overshare, seem distracted, or instinctively praise you for remembering to drink water, please be patient. I’m re-entering society after an intense year and a half in the land of early motherhood.

I’ll get there.

And if not, the tiger can always handle introductions.