The date was set months ago. An outfit was purchased for the occasion. The plans were set. My friend, also a recent mom, was going to sleep over so that we could drink ourselves silly and then recover the following morning with a delicious brunch. All of this was to be done sans babies. Our husbands would care for the little ones for the night, while we, the ladies would celebrate with fantastic cocktails and good conversation.
I contemplated wearing a tummy tucking underwear contraption (which I eventually ruled out because it would inhibit my dinner eating). I blow dried my hair for the occasion. I can count on one hand the number of times that I've actually blow dried my hair this year. This would be number three. Three! I also dug through my closet for a go out purse. This bag was so small that it barely contained my wallet, my keys and my cell phone. The lipstick had to get pocketed. There wasn't room for a bottle or a teething ring. This bag was not designed for baby. My point is that my friend and I were going out! OUT! I was wearing slim black pants with boots over them. Although, I think I might have looked more like a swashbuckling pirate, I'm told my outfit was in fact trendy. We were ready. Or at least we thought we were.
When my friend arrived, I could tell she had reservations about leaving her son for the night. I had already mentally caved. While feeding Bean moments earlier, she looked at me with these big sad eyes, like she knew I was leaving. And then she opened her mouth and GUSH, everything that she had eaten that day came pouring out like a fire hose. It was as if a faucet was running inside her mouth. Apples, avocado, oatmeal, water, formula, all out once. Her entire stomach contents spilled out of her mouth down the front of her "I love my Daddy" onesie and onto the floor.
I know that when I throw up, I am a sight to be seen. My eyes get red, my face swells up and I turn white as a sheet. When Bean throws up, she follows all the vomiting up with laughter. When she sees us flip out she starts crying. I think if I didn't immediately grab her start consoling her, she might not have even noticed that she was sick. In fact, she was so cheerful after the all that puking, that my husband and I thought maybe she just had a bad reaction to the food. She was giggling and laughing and playing. How sick could she be? We are new at this parenting thing, and we thought maybe this was just a massive spit up. My husband convinced me that I should go. My friend came in for the occasion, just go and let him would take care of Bean.
And so we left, and I felt like the worst mother in the world! I spent the entire dinner texting to get updates on the puke machine. Apparently it was more than spit up, since she continued puking throughout the night. I lasted 3.5 hours and then I was home. Home to hold her, home to sing to her, home to wipe her face and kiss her tears.
I would say that ladies night was a bust, but I think my friend and I had a great dinner, celebrated our wonderful friend, and then I came home and had my own ladies night with Bean, which was best of all.