I had a group chat before the twins called "Sunday Brunch Club." There were five of us. We'd met in college, and for about eight years we did brunch at least once a month, usually somewhere in Oakland with a line out the door and bottomless mimosas.
The chat is still technically alive. The last message was in June, a photo of someone's new kitchen backsplash, and four people reacted with a heart. That's it. That's the friendship now.
I'm not writing this to be sad about it. I'm writing it because friendship after kids is something nobody really prepared me for, and I've been thinking about it a lot now that the twins are 29 months and I have slightly more brain space than I did a year ago.
What changed
The biggest change was time. With twins, a part-time job and a husband who works long days, my free hours shrank to basically nothing for the first eighteen months. I missed birthdays. I canceled plans at the last minute because someone had a fever, or because I was just too tired to put on real pants.
After a while, the invitations slowed down. I don't blame my friends for that. If I'd been on the other side, I'd have stopped inviting me too.
The conversations changed too. My friends without kids would talk about trips, dating, work drama and new restaurants. I'd talk about nap schedules and diaper rash. Neither of us was wrong. We were just in different chapters, and it was hard to find the overlap.
What stayed
Two friendships from before stayed strong, and I've thought a lot about why.
My friend Priya doesn't have kids and doesn't plan to. But she's the one who showed up in those early weeks with a bag of groceries and just held a baby while I took a shower. She didn't ask what I needed. She just came. Now she comes over once a month, sits on our living room floor, and the twins climb all over her. We talk while they play. It's not brunch, but it's real.
My friend Kelsey had a baby six months before me. We texted constantly at 3 a.m. during night feeds, and we still do. Our kids are at different stages now, but she understands the exhaustion in a way that doesn't require explaining.
What they had in common: they adjusted to my new life instead of waiting for my old one to come back. And I tried to do the same for them, asking about Priya's new job and remembering Kelsey's work deadlines, even when I was running on four hours of sleep.
What's new
A few friendships I never expected:
- The twin parents group. I joined a local online group when I was pregnant. A few of us started meeting at a park near the lake on Saturday mornings. Now there's a core group of four families, and the kids play while the grown-ups drink lukewarm coffee and talk about everything.
- A coworker at the dental office. Maria has a two-year-old and works the same three days as me. We eat lunch together in the break room and trade tips on picky eating and potty training. It's the most reliable friendship I have, because we see each other whether we plan it or not.
- Our neighbor on the other side of the duplex. She's in her sixties and waves at the twins every morning. She's become a bit of a grandma figure to them, and to me, she's someone I can chat with on the porch after bedtime.
What I've learned
Here's where I've landed, for now:
- Friendship looks different, not gone. A voice memo, a text, a quick walk. It all counts.
- Proximity matters more than I thought. The people I see without planning are the ones I'm closest to now.
- It's okay to let some friendships go quiet. Some of the brunch club friendships might come back when our kids are older, or when theirs are born. Some might not. Both are okay.
- Say the thing. I finally told Priya how much it meant that she kept showing up. She cried. I cried. The twins were confused.
If you're feeling lonely in the early years, I see you. It gets a little easier. Your people might look different than they used to, but they're out there, probably at the park at 9 a.m. on a Saturday, holding a lukewarm coffee and hoping somebody will say hi first.
Say hi first. That's the whole trick.
