I’m trying hard to keep the “mom” talk out of a good girl’s night out. 

I don’t want to be THAT mom who only talks about her kids.  It’s like going out with people from work and only talking about the latest projects you’re working on.  Who wants to discuss the pros and cons of matrix organizations over a martini?  Not me.

And when I go out with the girls, I try hard to not mix baby talk with girl talk.  Sleep schedules and solid foods just don’t seem to pair well with a glass of Shiraz. 

 

I was recently faced with this dilemma when I went out with my friends for my birthday.  My M.O. was to attempt to have an “old school” night out (i.e. dinner then dancing).  I even tried to dress the part.  New jeans, high-heeled boots, and a cute top were a throwback to my single years.  Overall, I looked somewhat respectable for a new mom who works part-time and just got in from a business trip in New York.

Most important, I was ready for a baby-free and work-free night. 

We all met at a wine bar in a hip neighborhood. At the table were some of my NMFs (new mom friends), some married friends, some work friends, and some single or engaged friends. It was a proprietary blend of my old and new life.  

As we settled into our new surroundings of wood-paneled walls versus garish-orange kiddie gyms, we began to peruse the menu.  I began to peruse my new mom friends sitting at the table – hair done and heels on.  One claimed she had never seen me wear lipstick before (the horror!).  We began to order our wine and apps (“Sexy Reds” for me, please).  It was then that things turned from sexy to stagnant.

 

A taste of the conversation:

Me: (sips wine, eats some brie)

NMF across the table:  “So, tell me, what foods have you started Junior on?”

Me: “I really like the Cabernet, what did you get?”

NMF: “Well, I talked to the doctor and he said not to start meats until 8 months.”

Me: “This parmesan is to die for.”

 

Discussing the varietals of baby meat was not what I had planned for my girl’s night out.  

I craned my neck to hear how my single friend landed a hot date last weekend.  And tried to listen as my other friend described a fabulous pair of shoes she just bought.

 

But as the conversation varied from pureed chicken to potential hotties sitting across from us, I found myself more and more drawn to the current rather than the past. And as the hot button topic of “baby-proofing” came up, my attitude turned from “old school” to feeling just plain old. 

I thought, as I sipped my Merlot, how did it all end up this way? 

Would I really rather talk about burps and poop than the gossip rags? (Ok, I still have a subscription to People, but still…).  When did buying a fashionable pair of sweats matter more than a cute “going out” top?

 

Was I really becoming THAT mom?

 

It was then that the dilemma was cast in a new light.  I like to play dress up, but I am much more comfortable without the red lipstick and tight jeans. The complex bouquet of my life suits my palate just fine.

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