Life with boys … before there was a life with boys, there was a girl who drained her bank account to rent a moving truck to move across the country … and it was hard … finding my place in St. Louis took a long time … I tried to make connections with sorority alumnae … co-workers … team and class parents … neighbors … a friend-of-a-friend’s book club … but I didn’t find my tribe … I didn’t go to high school here … I didn’t go to college here … I had the support of my husband’s extended family, but they weren’t mine …
When my mom died unexpectedly in 2006, the boys were 18 months and barely four years old … And I was wholly gutted… my tribe and the rest of my family were a long-distance call away … it was a dark time … I needed my tribe … but alas, they were yet to be found …
Why do I write this? On my 40th birthday, I finally started to find my tribe. A bunch of scout moms were going out for Mexican food, and I wanted to know if I could join them. We are a mismatched bunch, but we all come together because of our lives with boys … we have that in common. It turns out that is all I needed … we’ve managed to get each other through a pandemic with Zoom happy hours and drive-by parades … trivia nights and campouts … crazy rare diseases and tick bites … meal trains and patrol outings … turns as the grub master’s support team … and so many merit badges … scouts brought us together … but our bond goes beyond our sons’ tenure in the troop be it a month or a lifetime … and I want you to feel like you’re included too … so if you are new to this crazy world or if you’ve been around the block a bit, we want to get to know you you have an open invitation… come to our book-ish club (you don’t really have to read the book) … come hang out with us for dinner or a game night or a craft party … need someone to go on a hike … or borrow a costume at this 11th hour … we’re here for you … this club has only one membership requirement, that you show up …
Speaking of which … wanna come have tacos at my house?
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