Surrounded by Plate Collectors

When you’re thumbing through magazines, do you ever see those collector plates advertised?

Sometimes the plates have dogs on them, or Disney characters, or just peaceful scenery. There are people out there who collect those plates. In fact, they collect as many of them as possible.

Now imagine you find yourself - a non-plate collector – in a room full of plate collectors. Maybe it’s even a Plate Collector Convention. All everyone wants to talk about is their collections, swap plate stories, and maybe even work on getting that rare plate in their collection.

So, what would you do? Well, maybe you’d wander around and admire their plates, and maybe you’d listen to some of their stories, no mater how bored you were. But, you would have nothing to contribute, because you AREN’T A PLATE COLLECTOR.

This is EXACTLY how it feels when I’m surrounded by some moms.

Now, I know how passionate I can become about rabbits, writing, and other things I care about. But I really do try not to talk exclusively about them. But with some moms, you just can’t get away from it. So, often, there I sit - the barren childless wonder - as everyone around me seems to have umpteen children and can discuss up the whazoo about sippie cups and those little booger suction things.

And that’s fine.

But is that ALL we have to contribute to a conversation? Aren’t there eventually other things we could talk about? Eventually, won’t they run out of stories (please, oh, please)? These are thoughtful, intelligent women, who I had many good conversations with before their reproductive systems kicked into gear. Now, it’s like deep sea fishing trying to find something non-child-related to talk about.

And I really don’t mind hearing about their kids and where they are in their development processes, but eventually, I’d like to move on to something where I could participate in the conversation. And I should say that not ALL moms are like that, many of my child-having friends make for wonderful conversationalists. But, like I said, it’s just those few (in every other way totally wonderful) people.

Okay, so this is more of a rant than I intended. It’s just that I’m a social person, and being around people who only talk about their children makes me feel like I’ve been stapled to the wall with duct tape slapped over my mouth.

Maybe I should become a plate collector.