Ah, date night is here! That monthly sacred escape from parenting that both you and your spouse have been craving. Grandma’s on her way over to babysit, the kids are fed and they’re ready to get spoiled rotten.
And where are we off to tonight?
Let me guess. Dinner and a movie, right? The timeless, traditional, tried-and-true date night of boring parents.
That’s right, I said BORING.
My mom friends are indispensable. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. After a long day in the trenches of motherhood, my girls are the sounding board I crave.
Whether we’re getting together for a play date at the park, or meeting at a noisy bar for beer and wings, for me, hanging out with my mom friends is like a trip to a quiet sanctuary of peace and understanding.
I’m a working mom and I love it. But walking in the door after a gruelling day at work, only to be pummelled by a raging toddler, demanding whatever shred of energy and attention I have left is definitely a downside.
That cute little mucus machine doesn’t care one bit about how my day went. The concept of boundaries means nothing to him. He’s just so happy to see me.
A morning routine that includes self-care is a great way to get back in touch with that amazing, sexy, energetic pre-mom self of yours. But things like styling your hair and putting on make-up, are WAY easier said than done when you’re a mother with a couple of mucus-munchers running around.
Mama, I totally get it.
In the early days of my motherhood, I remember feeling like a shadow of my amazing pre-mom self. I wore the typical mom uniform, my hair was always in a pony tail and I never put on make-up. Feeling pretty just seemed like a luxury I couldn’t afford after I became a mom.
“CANNON BALL!!!!!!” is a word I remember fondly from my childhood. My uncle did the best cannon balls. We’d all cheer out as he’d leap off the diving board, tuck into a perfect human sphere and plunge securely into the deep end of the kidney-shaped swimming pool, sending what seemed at our age to be giant, surging waves for us to jump over, crash into, and swim through.
We’d scream and laugh with delight, demanding an encore performance over and over and over again. I’d stay in that pool until my fingers and toes were all pruney, until my blonde hair turned green and the sun went down.