Tonight, "play date" took on a whole new meaning. That's because the mommies went out, without the babies, to a place where they serve adult beverages. This group of women I've known since September, normally seen in yoga pants or jeans and t-shirts or sweaters, often wearing part or all of their child's most recent meal, and toting gigantic bags full of diapers, binkies and baggies of cheerios, cleaned up into a quite an attractive bunch of gals in dressy jeans, silky tops and in some cases, necklaces that would make their babies' fingers itch to grab and yank.
Sadly, I was not far off from my normally frazzled self as most of my girly clothes are either still 2 sizes too small for me or in the wash. But I made it. I got out of the house to socialize with my girlfriends on a Friday night! Yeah, baby!
Pathetic how exciting it was. At first I did the whole, "awwww, I don't wanna. Can't I stay home and lay on the couch?" routine of the recently socially inept. I used to be quite the go-out-and-party girl. I was all about Mojitos on a Friday night and Cosmos on a Saturday. And I could tell a story and get some pretty serious laughs (granted, drunk girls are an easy audience for laughs). Now, though, one glass of wine generally sets me a'snoring and a'blathering like an idiot. Teaching an infant to clap and sing "itsy bitsy spider" does not exactly exercise the parts of the brain that control sharp wit and conversation. So I have been a bit reticent to head back out there to the social scene.
Fortunately I did not cave to my inner Debby Downer. I went. Fabulous! It was so much fun to actually hold a glass of wine in my hand and talk, talk, talk. Yes, I tend to be a talker. Bet you couldn't tell from mah blog.
At one point, I noticed a group of attractive young men standing near us. Obviously a gaggle of pretty, dressed-up girls is going to get checked out at some point. I didn't point it out when I noticed them looking us over because I didn't want anyone to think I was trying to be flirty with them--I don't want to be the "Gabrielle " of the group (Seinfeld AND Desperate Housewives references in one post...I love me some pop culture). Anyway, there was checking out, specifically of the blondes I was chatting with. Well, there was checking out, until the guy closest to us and within earshot overheard us discussing the various qualities of our babies' diapers. Yeah, that will extinguish the fire in the loins of pretty much any being with testosterone coursing through it's system. Needless to say, that group of men left a little cartoon puff of smoke in their wake after they figured out we were a bunch of mamas.
No worries. My favorite men were at home, snoozing. After a lot of laughs and a couple glasses of wine (I was unable to convince any of the girls to have a glass of champagne & peach nectar with me--perhaps next time), I found myself happily bidding my friends adieu to head home to my men. As fun as it is to let loose with the ladies, there is nothing in the world as sweet as curling up for the night with Ethan and Husband.
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