Top Ten Ways Going Out as a Mother is Like Going Out As A Tween

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This week’s Top Ten Tuesday is brought to you by cigars and a whisky flight. (Oh yeah, and it’s the Wee One’s first birthday today!  I lost my baby today and gained a toddler!)

Last Monday, a girlfriend and I went out and had so. Much. Fun. I mean, so much fun, and since then, I’ve been thinking about how similar going out after baby is to going out in junior high and early high school. Unlike previous Top Tens, these listed in the order in which they come up in a night.

(Note: This was in the early to mid 90’s, so we didn’t have the internet or even ubiquitous computers. We had landlines and cassette tapes. And acid washed jeans.)

  1. You dress differently. In youth, since I was going out, I wanted to look cool. So I would wear the one shirt that was a little tighter/lower cut, the one I wouldn’t normally wear. When I go out after baby, I’m not worried about access to my boobs, and I knew I wouldn’t get any spit-up on my clothes!
  2. You wear makeup, usually badly. In junior high, I wouldn’t wear makeup really, and when I did, it wasn’t put on very well. It wasn’t always even mine own make-up! I have found that post-Wee One, I wear make-up so rarely that I’ve kind of forgotten how to put it on.  When we went out, my friend was wearing perfume – she got in the car and she DIDN’T smell like baby wipes. I was like, “What is that weird aroma?”
  3. The first few minutes together are spent telling stories about how you got away. In junior high, the story may involve what you told your mother or what you had to go through to get a ride. After baby, you’re dancing around bedtimes and evading separation anxiety, so it can be hard to leave the house. My girlfriend’s daughter has strong separation anxiety right now and her husband distracted the child as my friend slid out the door. She said she could hear the baby’s wail as she went down the hall. On her way to the car, she tore her pants.  “But I worked so hard to get out, and I couldn’t go back in and have to leave again, so fuck it.”
  4. Once you get out, you go to a place you wouldn’t normally go. In junior high, we would go places our parents wouldn’t want to hang out, maybe even places we weren’t supposed to hang out. This time, my girlfriend and I went to a cigar bar, a place I used to go with fervor, as you well know, and I haven’t gotten to do as much since the Wee One came along.
  5. One there, you tell everyone you meet that you got away. Not that we would do this in junior high, but there were several references to it amongst the group.  When my girlfriend and I went out, we told the hostess at our restaurant, our waiter, then later, a bartender and a couple of strangers that we were having a girl’s night out.
  6. You eat what normally wouldn’t or couldn’t. I feel weird drinking alcohol when I’m out with the Wee One, unless it’s wine and I’m in an Italian place. When I was a freshman in high school, I would go with girlfriends to Applebees and we would all order virgin strawberry daiquiris. We felt so cool drinking those, but we wouldn’t try to do it in front of our parents, who would look at us sideways.
  7. You scream with laughter. As much as we loved our families as kids, and as much as we love our babies now, we felt free in a way we normally weren’t.  We felt joyful and full of life, and that was our way of expressing it.
  8. You talk to lots of people. When you’re finally out on your own in JH, you’re the one doing that talking, not your mother. Your opinion is the only one that matters. AB, you can suddenly make conversation with anyone about anything and stand there and talk for as long as you want! Which wasn’t always a good thing, as it might lead to #9
  9. Get talked to by someone inappropriate. In JH, it was the creepy guy in the food court who kept smiling at you when he refilled his soda. This time, it was a guy at the craps table who thought he was slick in asking about my friend’s husband. (Now that I think about it, it was probably the same guy.)
  10. Come away from it feeling very much alive. Both then and now, you laugh for days afterwards and hold on to the memories for a long time.

 

Weekend Coffee Share #16

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If we were having coffee, your mouth would open at the sight of the bandage on my ring finger. What happened?! Girl, let me tell you, and this is going to get kind of gross. I was using my new mandolin slicer to cut bits of apple for the Wee One, and wouldn’t you know it, I sliced the corner of my finger off.*

You immediately grimace and gasp. It’s not as bad as it sounds but it sucked when it happened. At first I thought I would have to get stitches, but there was nothing to stitch together!  And then I thought, how am I going to get her out of her high chair and into a car seat without bleeding all over the place? I was trying to keep it elevated and pressure on it, which meant I couldn’t do anything with her! It also meant I had a sanitary napkin wrapped around my finger, which was the only sanitary wound care thing we had in the house, and looked pretty funny.

Then, she started choking on one of those fucking apple slices! She ended up throwing up a little bit, which got it out, but I was so upset, more than about my finger. I got her out of her high chair and held her for awhile, during which time the bleeding slowed and eventually stopped. I had contacted a friend to come over and help with her, for which I am so thankful. She stayed here and I got a proper bandage.

If we were having coffee, you would ask about the Wee One’s birthday party. It was so much work, man.  I didn’t know it would be so much work, but, we had it in the clubhouse of the apartment complex, which is probably why it felt like so much: I had to take everything there and bring it back, which meant packing and unpacking the car. But the Wee One had fun and I’m glad it’s done.

We’re briefly distracted by some kids player soccer in the parking lot outside. I hope that doesn’t last long, you observe, given the traffic that comes through.

If we were having coffee, I would comment on one of the babies at the birthday party: she turned four months yesterday, which is about the age the Wee One was when we moved out here. It was remarkable to hold her and compare between then and now.

She’s a year old now. I can tell that she isn’t a baby anymore, but she’s not quite a toddler yet either. (Though that may mostly because because she’s still not mobile.) I can’t tell if I’m sad or not; I mostly just want to hold the Wee One closer. Which I usually want to do anyway. Also, my first year of motherhood is over. Even with a second, it won’t be my first time through. This special sacred tremulous time is over. Of course, now it’s my first time mothering a toddler, so here’s to that, I say with a smile, raising my coffee.

 

 

 

 

 

*It has made typing this week quite difficult!

Weekend Coffee Share #14

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If we were having coffee, a very large group beats us to the counter to order. We try to decide if they’re family, because they’re of varying ages, or a social group, because they’re all in athletic gear (football, to be exact) and carrying a ball with them. Perhaps both? you guess. This is Super Bowl Sunday, I say, and you shake your head. I think I hear you grumble something about ‘thank God that’ll be over,’ referring to football season, but I smile because I know you’re teasing.

I have been thinking all week about ‘happiness’ since we talked about it, and I thought of something else I do to promote happiness in myself – when the automatic negative thoughts begin to run the train track around my head, I deliberately point out to myself the blessings I have, which is easy to do when I have a child as wonderful as my Wee One.

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“Le Cœur A Ses Raisons, Que La Raison Ne Connaît Point.”

“The heart has its reasons, which reason does not know.”

This passage by Blaise Pascal came to my mind the other day as I was listening to a podcast on toddler tantrums. The Wee One isn’t a toddler yet, and is only starting to voice her displeasure when she doesn’t get something she wants. I’m still able to distract her and she moves along quite easily.

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52/52 Challenge For 2016

This is an annual exercise I’ve done since 2014 in which I set goals for myself for the next year. A lot like New Years Resolutions, this is just like a vision board for my next year.  In 2014, it was The 36/36 Challenge (36 because I started it late in the year) and last year, it was The 51/51 Challenge (51 because I got it out a week late.)

This one was hard to write, which really surprised me. I had a hard time thinking of new things I want to get into, but that may be because I’m still a new SAHM mother and so involved with the Wee One.

Though I’m getting this one out late in the year, I’m still applying it to all 52 weeks because I have begun doing things in the challenge.

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Screwtape Scribbles Again

This article, “A Screwtape Letter For The Unappreciated Mom,” is one of the best things I’ve read in a long time. It almost seems like Jack wrote it, because it’s so well in keeping with the style of the book.

Some of the better, more convicting (right now) passages for me include:

“A tired Mom makes for a more emotional Mom, and an emotional Mom is a vulnerable one.” Today has been a difficult day.  Just one of those challenging ones when my faults seem to stand out and anxious thoughts and self-doubts snowball.

“We must convince her that her husband is no longer the friend and ally she first married.  Instead, we must reveal every sin and selfish habit, especially drawing attention to his thoughtless actions (mal-intended or not) against her.” And, unfortunately, I took it out of him today.  😦

“Secondly, do what you can to keep her focused on her troubles and pains.” I am ashamed to think about some of the self-centered comments I’ve made to Cohiba that sound once he plays them back to me!

“Along those lines, be sure the Mother starts to value productivity above everything else.” My house… Looks like the house with a baby in it.

Today was just a hard day.

Tomorrow will be better.

 

10 Good Things About Being Up All Night With The Baby

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The nine month sleep regression is upon Sahara’s household, and God help us, please don’t last long. It’s iike I have a newborn again. In effort to look on the positive, as I am intentional about doing when it pertains to my Wee One, I’m going to find 10 good things about being up so much during the night. Just call me Pollyanna.

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