Breaking Spawn, Part 1

Hell must have froze over today, because I actually... wait for it... waaaaait foooorrr iiit... WENT OUT WITH ANOTHER HUMAN BEING WHO WASN'T MY SON!!!! Shocking, I know.  A girl's night out was long overdue.  To sum it up, I had an absolute blast.  And considering the last blast I had was a blastocyst, I would say this was long overdue.
I must say though, going out with your girlfriend as a mother is a bit like going to a foreign country.  The people look different (as in, presentable and/or bathed), speak differently (as in, intellectually), & act differently (as in, normally).  So I have compiled a short list of how mommy-glasses may affect your girl's night out....

1. Too many options at the bar:  And no, I don't mean the beers on tap.  We hadn't even been seated yet and were already perplexed by the fact that we could sit ANYWHERE WE WANTED.  This may seem obvious to you non-parents, but when you have kids you have to find the biggest table. With room for highchairs. In a faraway corner.  That way when your kid starts hurling cheerios or racecars 15 feet into the air you are spared getting slapped with any frivolous lawsuits. The thought of sitting at any table of our liking was overwhelming.

2. Interaction with the male species:  Our server was a young man, so I took the opportunity to see if I "still had it".  And what rolled off my tongue I ask you? "So, how old do we look?" Ugh, Seriously Katie? I'm pretty sure the last time I asked someone that I was 15 and trying to get him to buy me a pack of smokes. He replied, "Well, I already saw your IDs." Me: "Uh huh... so how old do you have to look to get ID'd?" Him: "Under 30." Me: "I see...." Him: "But I asked for your ID so that's good, right?" Me: (scowls) "Well, guess I'm coming back next year to find out!"  It will probably be that long anyways until I'm allowed in public again. Sigh.

3. Mommy Guilt/War Stories:  It's so odd going anywhere without your child that you feel like you've forgotten something.  This leads to the Mommy Guilt, so all you do is talk about your child.  At least during this part of the conversation the alcohol is starting to take effect, and truths are revealed.  My girlfriend admitted to me that the other day she forgot to bring a snack for her son when they went to the park.  She desperately searched her bag to see if there was anything for her hungry three year old to eat.  All she could find were stale cheerios at the bottom of her purse, so she did what any good mother would do... tried to pass it off as real food.  Unfortunately her son scoffed at the notion of "dirty" cheerios so he went without. Some may call this child abuse, I call it resourceful.

4. Lightweight division:  Two girls who never go out plus happy hour.  Need I say more?

5. Tainted Love:  When you've been married for over five years and you see Edward & Bella on their honeymoon, you can't help but feel slighted & skeptical.  "Romance AND sex? Who does that anyway?" "Please, I give them six months!" 

6. Bladder Control:  It's about this point during the night when those beers start to hit me with a fury.  I used to laugh at those commercials with the funny jingles & little water balloons simulating bladders, but suddenly I have a deep empathy for those women running out of board meetings to the bathroom... they're obviously mothers.  YOU try pushing something the size of a football out of your vagina and see what happens.  Go on, laugh, I dare you.  You'll probably just wet yourself anyways.

7.  Bella's Belly:  Motherhood has this peculiar way of seeping back into every primal instinct you have to procreate.  There I am, watching Bella Swan writhing in pain looking like she's dying of cancer because of this monster in her uterus...  her cheekbones sunken in, her lips pasty white, and her belly covered in bruises... I lean over to my girlfriend and say, "Aw, I miss being pregnant!" 

8. Movie Babies:  I don't care if it's half vampire! Why is that newborn baby bigger than my ten month old???

9.  The long good-bye:  The movie has ended, the night is coming to a close.  This would be the moment where young lovers hold one another in a warm embrace, tenderly stroking an arm or brushing hair out of the other's eyes... Snap out of it!! Mommy good-byes go more like this: "Um, I don't want to go home."  "Me either...." (long pause) "Are you going to that play date Friday after Thanksgiving?"  "Yeah, but no one else is really going... it's black Friday." "Yeah, I don't do black Friday... people like, die and shit." "I know... they totally get stomppled." "Um, I think you just made that word up." "Oh..."

10. The drive home: I can't express the odd feeling of getting in a car and just... going. No strapping screaming baby in carseat. No strapping carseat in car.  No popping sippy cup in baby's mouth.  No fishing around for lullaby cd.  No double checking that carseat is tight enough.  No finding sippy cup that was thrown on floor and rolled under seat. No singing along to lullaby cd the entire way home.  No pulling carseat out of car.  No finding that damn sippy cup, again. No unstrapping sleeping baby from carseat.  No screaming at the dogs for waking up sleeping baby 12 seconds later.  None of that nonsense.  Just a phone call from your husband asking you to stop at the gas station for a tallboy because one night in with the baby was "a lot of work".  If he only knew.....

I got friends in no places...

Today marked my husband's and my 8 year dating anniversary, so we celebrated by venturing to a hipster vegan kitchen and treated ourselves to some curried tofu. This is remarkable for two reasons: one, I have been putting up with his incessant blanket hogging for the better part of a decade, and two, going out in public forced me to socially interact with other human beings.
In my "past life", public appearances were an afterthought, but recently I discovered that I have the social etiquette of a cat in heat. Read: I have no friends and I am painfully desperate to talk to anyone old enough to vote (liberally, of course). Exhibit A...
The other night I needed some serious alone time, so I went to my happy place... Target. Of course, my time spent away from the baby drove me straight to the aisles of rubber duckies and other childhood fanfare.  Even in solitude I spend my moments thinking about my son... motherhood is totally inescapable. Anyways, it's here that I run into another mom, also shopping for her son. I feel like a jungle cat stalking her prey, soaking in all the details (I know, I can be very dramatic).. Ponytail. Tattoo on foot. Wearing PJ's. I could TOTALLY be friends with this woman! We start talking, and before I know it I'm trying to figure out how to form some sort of relationship with this complete stranger.  Maybe I should pass her a note asking "will you be my friend?", with two boxes for checking yes or no.  Then reality smacks me in my oily face... GROWN UPS DON'T DO THAT!!! Sigh. I proceed to check out with a bottle of shampoo and a bruised ego.
Exhibit B...

The following day, I mysteriously found myself BACK at Target.  After spending an hour looking through discounted Halloween items and wondering why on earth aisle 16 is lined with Christmas trees, I exited to the parking lot... and that's when I saw it.  The glorious champagne-colored Neon decorated hood to trunk in "Meat is Murder" stickers. OH. MY. GOD. Up to this point, vegans in central Florida were only found in fairy tales, and surely this was a sign. So I did the unthinkable... I left a note on the battered Neon... asking this person, this total stranger, to (gulp) be my friend. WHAT ON EARTH IS WRONG WITH ME?! Clearly, the isolation of motherhood has driven me over the edge of insanity straight into Desperation Town. Who does that?  In retrospect, definitely not one of my shining moments.
I had another one of those moments today at the restaurant (Vegans wearing Ohio State stuff, can you blame me?), but I will spare you the ugly details.  After the curried tofu, our little family unit went for a walk around the park across the street.  I saw a playground area, so naturally I was drawn to it (either that or strollers come equipped with magnets attracted to swings).  But my lofty vision of going down the slide with my son was quickly extinguished by the sight of the three teenage boys hanging out on the picnic tables.  Shouldn't they be in school?  Where are their mothers? Wait...what's that in their hands? Is that a... a... a JOINT? Oh my GOD these kids are going to... well I don't know exactly but I sure as hell don't want my BABY around such rebel-rousers! Ummm, did I just say, Rebel-Rousers? When did I turn into Mr. Wilson??? It may come as a shock to some of you (or not) but I used to "dabble" in college.  So why was I suddenly flipping out over a couple of harmless kids takin' a toke in the park? I honestly don't have an answer.  But it's the same reason why I about had a conniption fit that some jackass was smoking near my car as I was putting Holden in his car seat (did I mention I used to smoke a pack a day??).
Anyways, I'm not too sure what my point is here, but again I felt compelled to be brutally honest and express how motherhood has impacted my life in ways unexpected.  But maybe that's just the vodka talking ;)