Mom's Night Out

 MOM'S NIGHT OUT aka Resurrecting the Before Baby You

Now, I'll preface this article by saying, I love my little lady. I am a full time momma, in practice and in heart. I spend my days singing songs, tracing her little features with my finger as she nurses, giving funny voices to her stuffed animals and book characters, and kissing her little cheeks until she pushes me away. But, of course, there's apart of me that misses my pre-baby freedoms.

 Baby girl is 8 months old. She is slowly growing more independent everyday. She eats solids: cutting nursing time down. She loves toys: so babysitters can distract her. So, I was pretty intrigued the first time I went to my (4 hour long) job and returned to a smiling baby, rather than a meltdown -where is mommy?! Daddy, you suddenly seem sinister- baby. She had let out a little slack on her mommy leash. Well, you give me an inch... I want a mile. And a mile to me means getting reacquainted with my social life! Ok, maybe the term"social life" is shooting for the moon a little bit. But, compared to my once a month trip to the coffee shop, mom groups, and the occasional dinner at our house with friends; a "social life" to me could mean "Goes to ONE party and stays for more than 2 hours" or "Has drink with 2 or more friends at bar where no babies are allowed" or even "Goes shopping for own clothes in store that does not have shopping carts". Dare to Dream.

As my head spins with the possibilities, a delicious realization strikes. MY BB FRIENDS. I COULD SEE MY BB FRIENDS!!!I like to refer to my before-motherhood friends as "BB" friends. Before Baby. Labeling my BB friends this way makes them seem like precious relics from the past. Which they are.
 Any friends I make now, especially through new moms groups and baby activities, fall into the AD friends. After Diapers. I cherish my AD friends. They are like a Ya-ya sisterhood of understanding supporters who help me get through the day to day. ...But, my BB friends... they are magical. They have a super power: Time Travel. When I see them, I feel like BB-Me.

Becoming a mom changes things and it changes you. You're still you, but you're a lot different than you use to be. Before-baby-you scoffed at the poop-centered horror stories of parenthood. You accepted that your storytelling friend may have been forced into handling poop on a daily basis, but reassured yourself that that life wasn't meant for you. That wasn't your future. You'll be the poop-less parent, potty training your offspring at 3 weeks old. Psst. Guess what. You are handling that poop, my friend. You are handling it and you'll get a sick, twisted satisfaction about your ability to handle it well. You and the baby's other caregivers will brag about the size and stink of the last diaper. That diaper you dealt with was DEFINITELY more terrible than the one someone else handled. You'll find yourself saying things like, "Oh, you think blueberry butt is bad? You obviously never fed her bananas." I don't know why dirty diaper competitiveness exists, but I know it does. And when you're busy one-upping each other over poop all day-when that seems normal- integrating yourself back into regular society can be a little challenging. BB friends don't understand the thrill of poop wars.

But, your BB friends are expecting the BB, non poop-obsessed, you. Which is fair, the BB you is who they signed up for. They didn't force you to have a baby. They didn't go and change up the game. That was you. So, it's good to put a little effort into resurrecting the BB you.

Here's how it usually goes for me:

First, I way overshoot the plans. LETS GO TO MEXICO FOR THE WEEKEND.
Then, I check myself.
Ok. Let's see a movie... IN A THEATER.
Better.
OMG!!! LETS GET A BEER FIRST! OMG!!!
I'm. On. Fire.

Then, I find myself standing in front of my closest. I'm just staring at the clothes. I've worn them many times before...it's just been awhile. Like over a year. Suddenly, I'm aware at how many pairs of sweatpants and sweatshirts are in my hamper. I redirect my attention back to the closet. The closet filled with the clothes with buttons and zippers. The fancy ones.  I could wear them again. I could match things... but... I remember, my clothes don't come as matching sets.  Which is probably a good thing. I don't think I can pull off little blue birds on every piece of clothing and accessory I have on, anyway.  Finally after an hour, I stand triumphantly in jeans, a slightly dressier than my usual sweatshirt style shirt, and riding boots. I think I'm done getting ready. My husband, gently, reminds me that people usually brush their hair and put on make up. Life is complicated, again. My hair tries to hold its pony-tail shape in defiance as I wrestle it straight. I put on lip gloss and mascara. I look at my showered, brushed, make up wearing self in the mirror.  I am Beyonce.

I'm ten minutes late to meet my friend because it took me 45 minutes to stop crying and kissing the baby. I was frozen in our nursery from a sudden surge of mom-guilt. "ARGGGG!!! SHE KNOWS I'M CHOOSING TO LEAVE HER!!!!!! SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW YOU!!!" "...i'm her father, honey..." "THAT'S BESIDES THE POINT!!!!" Once my husband shoved me out of our door, I was happily on my way.

I see my friend and instantly creep her out with my over zealous greeting. HEYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!AHHHHHHH!!! HEYYYYY!!! OMG HEYYYYYYY!!!!!
Things get creepier as I sit there silently grinning and staring at her. I'm eating up every detail of her exciting non-baby life. She is way more fascinating to me than she should be.
She tries to engage me in conversation...
What's new with me? mmm... can't talk about poop... Nothing.
Did I go to that new bar yet? No.
Did I go to that new restaurant yet? No.
Did I see that new movie in the theaters yet? No. Oh, Am I going to? Is it the one we are seeing right now? No? Then no.
We establish that I don't leave my house.
Somehow, our years of friendship fill the gaps made of life-differences and lack of conversation material and we are still laughing & talking.
The movie is mediocre at best. But... I'm sitting down with out anyone needing anything from me for 2 whole hours. 
After the movie ends, my friend says, "it was great seeing you! Good time!"

I return home- back to the present. Time traveling has made me feel powerful, young, and connected again.  Time traveling made me miss the baby like crazy. To me this feels like the Best Night Ever. Only another month or so until I can do it again... ;)