When Your Friends Talk Nonstop About Their Kids . . .

In the Jan. 6 episode of the new Sex and the City series on HBO Max, Miranda’s professor, Nya, and her husband have been struggling to have a baby. Their attempts at IVF have failed and they are taking a break. It’s a painful subject. The last thing they want to talk about is babies. But when they go out to dinner with another couple, their friends can’t stop talking about their children. Every time the professor tries to steer the conversation to other subjects, it always comes right back to the kids. It turns out their friends are pregnant with yet another child. More baby talk. This parent couple, totally clueless about what the professor and her husband have been going through, keep bugging them about why they don’t have kids yet and how they won’t know real love until they have them.

At The Childless Life Facebook group recently, a long discussion centered on the problem of not being able to talk to your friends once they have children. Suddenly, former best friends have nothing to say to each other.

Ah, the mom club. Their lives are wrapped around their kids, and yours isn’t, so it becomes difficult to have a conversation about anything else. You feel abandoned and left out. Dads do it, too, but not as much.

I still remember when the moms in the church choir would gather to talk about their kids and school stuff and I was suddenly outside the circle with nothing to do but sort sheet music. Some of these moms are now obsessed with their grandchildren, so it’s still not a good fit, but others have come out of the mommy cloud.

Not long ago, I had a great exchange with a female friend about football. Did you see the game yesterday? How could he have missed that kick? Etc. Yes, girls can talk about football. This friend has children, and she’s about to move away from here to go live with them, but they’re all grown up, and she has plenty else to talk about, especially when her Kansas teams are playing. Maybe the key is just to wait it out. Someday the kids will be gone, and your friends will rediscover that there are other things in the world.

But that’s a long time to wait. Meanwhile, what can you do?

  • You can just try to be interested in your friends’ families and join the conversation as much as you are able, even though you don’t have your own children to talk about. Talk about your nieces and nephews or other kids in your life. Remember your own childhood. Smile. Pet the dog. Excuse yourself to go home early.
  • You can seek out other childless people with whom you share other interests, whether it’s a book club, yoga class, softball team, writers group, or whatever. They might have children, but you have this other thing in common.
  • You can keep trying to direct your parent friends’ attention to things other than babies, to remind them that they need to hold onto the person they were before the little ones took over their lives.

I understand how children can become the main thing parents think and talk about and how they would gravitate toward other parents. I was that way about my puppies when Annie and her brother were small. Annie s still a central concern, and I enjoy a good conversation about dogs. But the best way to be a friend is to take a genuine interest in your friend’s concerns, whether it be babies, cooking, or working out at the gym.

If you’re at the age where most of your friends are having babies, try to be interested in their families, but also insist that they listen to you when you talk about what’s on your mind. Maybe they don’t even realize they’re obsessing until you point it out. Or maybe you’ll need to find other friends until the kids are at least in kindergarten.

How do you deal with friends who can’t talk about anything but their children? Do you have any advice on how to handle it? I welcome your comments.


Good news. The pathology report on my dog Annie’s tumor said she does not have cancer. It’s a bloody ugly thing and we’re still dealing with the big collar, but after the vet cuts out the tumor, we should be able to go on with our lives. Thank you for all your loving comments of concern last week.

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Watch out for those baby pictures

It happened again last night. I was getting ready to lead church choir practice when one of the older women whipped out her brand new iPad. “Want to see my favorite picture?” she asked me.

I said, “Sure,” but I was thinking, “No, not really.” I had had one of those afternoons when I question the purpose of my life, when I feel awful because I’m alone and getting older and nothing seems to be worth the effort. What, Sue has those days? Yes, I do. You look back, and most of the older generation has died. You look forward, and there’s nobody there. And you ask the dog, “Why bother?” The dog wags her tail. She moseys over and licks my face. She doesn’t worry about such questions, only when do we eat and when are we going for a walk?

Back at choir practice. I just know this is going to be a baby picture. Yep. It’s her son and granddaughter. Her son looks like my late husband, and of course the granddaughter is cute. This is not the day to show me that picture. “Nice,” I say, hurrying back to the piano.

As the choir trickles in, she has to show everyone the picture. This is a woman who didn’t even have email a month ago, and now she’s toting an iPad full of family photos everywhere she goes.

Rehearsal comes to a halt every time someone new walks in and has to see the picture. Then they’re pulling out their Smartphones to show their own grandchildren. Meanwhile, I just want to get through the songs and get the heck out of there. Not one person realizes that their director’s emotions are so raw that one more mention of family and she’ll bleed on the piano keys.

It’s the mom club and she’s not a member.

Most of the time I’m okay, but sometimes, it still hurts like crazy. To all the mothers and grandmothers out there, yes, your baby pictures are beautiful, but sometimes it hurts to look at them. Forgive me if I don’t linger over your beloved photos. I just can’t. But if you’d like to see a few dozen pictures of my dog . . .

Have you ever experienced this, where you feel totally left out of the mom club and full of emotions you don’t know what to do with? What do you do?