I wonder what would have become of me as a mother without the internet. The internet has saved my ass from many a panicked spiral in these months since our boy was born. From fears over poop (when will he??) to not eating long enough on the boob, to venting frustrations, the internet has been my savior, comforting friend and confidante.
Sadly, though, I realize that my virtual connection is in lieu of the community that we were originally designed to raise our children in. The more mothers I talk to who are, like me, stay-at-homers (even though many of us are also work-at-homers) claim that the hardest factor to deal with is the isolation. This doesn't mean I live in a rural village at the top of a mountain with no running water or electricity--it means that where, historically I would have had my sisters and cousins and aunts and grandmothers around raising their children too, now I must register with mother's groups, set up playdates and truck my offspring all over tarnation, wasting expensive gas, in order to connect up with other mothers. In order to get a break from what is, frankly, the motony of the early years.
I know that as mothers we aren't supposed to express anything but joy and awe for our children, but twenty-four hours with anyone will drive you a little nuts, let alone a being who speaks a foreign language, screams for everything he needs, is totally useless when it comes to household chores, poops his pants several times a day and doesn't care if it bleeds down his leg and onto yours and won't even remember doing so later on.
Since my community of mothers is spread far and wide I have to make do with online forums and websites where I can hear the stories of other parents and find validation. So hallelujah for that.