Most of you probably know we are the only people at post with a kid. There is one other couple coming to replace the one that just left, plus another married couple coming in August, but no one will be bringing kids to post. Basically what that means is, Jack is the only child at post, and I'm the only mom.
For the single people here, and even the married people without kids, I don't think that sounds like a big deal. But if you're a mom, you know that having mom friends around is one of the most important - and one of the best - aspects of motherhood. My best mom friend, Courtney, and I hung out almost every single week for a year and a half, sometimes several time a week. I spent some days praying Courtney would call just so I could get out of the house and talk to a normal person, by which I mean an adult. Courtney was not only my mommy sounding board, but also the person I laughed (and occasionally cried) with when my child started exhibiting the early signs of toddlerness, aka insanity. Meanwhile, Courtney showed me what a great mom looks like, and her daughter showed me what my life might have been like in an alternate universe wherein I had a little girl and hadn't lost my mind. Those were the good old days.
I have exactly two mom friends here in Yekat, both of whom are leaving this year, which means not only will my friends be leaving, but all of Jack's English-speaking friends will also be leaving. There are dark days ahead, I'm sad to say. Dark days that involve very little English.
On top of not having mom friends here, easily one of the hardest aspects of this post, I am the only person at post right now who is not a Foreign Service officer. Of course I am interested in John's career, and at least I know what the heck goes on at the Consulate every day thanks to my job, but diplomacy is not my life. It's not the thing I want to talk about at every meal, it's not the thing I have in common with the other young people at post, and while I love being a CLO, it's not exactly my dream job. We all complain about things here, just like everyone does wherever they live, but at a certain point in the conversation, there is the inevitable consolation: "At least the work here is interesting." This is also the point in the conversation where I want to scream, "I'm not an FSO!" I may have done that at lunch the other day. I'm pretty sure I didn't scream.
For the first time in a long time, I find myself feeling very much alone. Sometimes - okay, most of the time - I just wish I could teleport one of my girls here for coffee and a good old fashioned bitch-fest that doesn't revolve around politics, housing, bidding, hardship pay, or Russian (sometimes I want to throw a little potty training into the conversation just to remind people that's what's going on in my life; fortunately for them, I'm not that mean). While someone works on the whole teleportation thing, I'll continue to remind myself that even though it sometimes get a little lonely here, at the end of the day - and in the ways that really matter - I am not alone at all.