originally published Oct. 13 2011

Whenever I am in a group of mamas, or have some friends over or have tea with one other mama or go to a giant potluck, I leave the situation ever more keenly aware of our great need for hanging out. Mammals live in herds, generally. That's why there are so many collective nouns for mammals. Hanging out is not something we get to do in our leisure, it is the de-stressor of our daily lives. If we don't hang out with other mammals, we don't know what's normal behaviour.

Seriously.  This is the thing that always happens at these herd encounters.  Someone timidly says what they're child does, and someone almost always says, Oh, that's normal. And the first speaker is visibly relieved. It's the same for wives and husbands, mothers-in-law and grandpas. 

And ourselves. In the massive range of normal, we find ourselves and our relationships both afflicted by and blessed with the human condition.  And we share what we have learned, both the good and the bad, what worked and what didn't...with our herd.

I'm pretty sure when other mammals (such as an implausibility of gnus)  get together and appear to merely be hanging out, by the water hole and all that, they are actually discussing the distressing behaviour of their children and husbands and sharing ideas for what to do about them. 

Hanging out need not be unproductive, by the way.  Clean each other's kitchens.  Peel apples together.  Talk about menus plans to get new ideas.  Cook something.  Hang out together. Our kitchens can be watering holes.

So the next to you happen across a lodge of beavers, a mischief of mice or a colony of rabbits hanging out, sharing their burdens and joys, bear in mind that you, too, are a mammal.