I love Fridays.  I mean, I know – what idiot doesn’t love Fridays?  But I really, super love Fridays.  Since becoming a mother, the weekend has spelled sweet relief in a way I hadn’t experienced since the seventh grade – when Saturday morning meant I could hide under the covers with a Stephen King novel and not worry about when one of the golden haired popular girls might strike with a nasty comment about my ill fitting jeans or bad perm for 48 glorious hours.  After June was born, the arrival of Saturday morning meant life got instantly easier.  I could shower WHEN I felt like it, eat whenever I wanted to – sitting down, and with both hands thank-you-very-much.  Weekends no longer represented a simple break from work – but a return to sanity, albeit with less frills.  I found I couldn’t even remember what exactly it was we used to do on weekends before we became parents.  I mean, did we go to several hundred movies a year?  How did I not have “time” to exercise?  What exactly was I doing?  Translating the entire Nancy Drew series into ancient Greek?  Seriously, how is it possible that I HAVE NEVER BEEN TO THE RUSSIAN TEA ROOM?  I think you get the general idea, babies suck up your leisure time.  Honestly, you might as well cancel your New York Times subscription the second that pregnancy test comes up positive.

But babies turn into toddlers, and miraculously, the world is full of activities for such small people – and that’s where Tonya and I have scored major bonuses with our respective husbands.  Seriously, we’re very lucky.  Not just because we married swell guys – but because they “hit it off” straight away, which made life easier for us in ways we probably couldn’t have predicted.  How could we have known that a mutual preference for absurd t-shirts featuring zombies, a shared disdain for team sports and an appreciation for a properly mixed cocktail would result in a blooming “alterna-dad” style friendship that would go beyond nights out to sci-fi movies to TAKING THE KIDS OUT OF THE HOUSE ON SATURDAY MORNINGS!!!  It started with swimming lessons with all of the dads in our mom’s group, then there were trips out for bagels, followed by breakfast at  a neighborhood diner – playing in the park, the playground, wherever.  They always manage to find something to do.  To know that on Saturday mornings, I can be myself again – read the paper, drink coffee, go for a run, or actually sleep, completely guilt free makes the crazy combo of working-raising-my-kid all the more worth it.  And maybe one of these days I’ll finally get to the Russian Tea Room.

http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/02/09/obsessions-the-delilah-complex/?emc=eta1

It is extraordinarily rare that I find myself actually agreeing with something from the Times Style Magazine, but Alex Kuczynski’s “obsession” with her hair post childbirth made complete sense to me, as I too decided to cut my hair after my daughter was born.  Like many women, I had an absurdly complicated relationship with my hair.  My hair wasn’t just about style or expression – it was also a reflection of how comfortable I was feeling in my own skin.  When I first moved to New York, and had yet to have my ego bruised by career challenges or disappointing relationships my hair was as short as Mia Farrow’s.  But as the city and life in general took its toll – my confidence began to falter, and the hair grew longer as I tried to mold myself into what I believed would be a prettier, more desirable package.  But since I am about as capable with a blow-dryer as I am with a blow torch, the end result was basically just a big hot mess.  My hair was on the short side when I met my husband, and that suited him just fine.  I rejoiced that I could stop worrying what someone else thought of my hair for once and for all.  It was short, it was long, it was short, it was long. . . and it didn’t matter.  Until. . .  

About three months after June was born I noticed a particularly funky smell.  This is not unusual when dealing with a three month old for a variety of obvious reasons, and some slightly less obvious (failure to shower, brush ones teeth, take out the trash, or empty the dreaded refrigerator full of rotting take-out).  However, none of these turned out to be the cause of my problem.  The problem was my hair.  It smelled.  Apparently, if one washes their hair, but due to lack of time, decides to put it into a bun while it is still VERY wet, the results are akin to something in the mildew family.  AWESOME.  I was on the phone with Bumble & Bumble in five seconds flat.  And while I did worry that motherhood was stealing my identity, my freedom, AND my hair – I was over it pretty quickly.  The shorter, mildew-free version of my hair was something to behold.  If motherhood meant saying good-bye to long hair, blow-dryers and straightening irons – then bring it on.  Sounds good to me.

There is perhaps nothing more terrifying than walking into a roomful of a couple of hundred women WHO YOU DON’T KNOW.  Especially if a) They are dressed up fancy b) You get the distinct feeling they’ve all known each other since birth and c) You launched your blog about six weeks ago and basically have no idea what you’re doing.  Tonya and I were about five seconds away from walking straight out of Four Seasons, hailing a cab and booking the next flight back to JFK.  But determined to stick it out lest we miss out on several nights in a luxe hotel sans children, we hiked up our spanx, threw back a cocktail and struck up a conversation with the closest woman in striking distance.  And as we weren’t rebuffed, made fun of, spit on, yelled at or made fun of in any way – we breathed a big sigh of relief (well, as much as one can in extra-tight spanx) and decided to stay for the duration.  The weekend just kept getting better, and we’re extra glad we were able to squash our inner seventh graders and join in on all the fun,  because we would have missed out on some really great stuff, such as:

The awesome panel discussion “Three Mormons and a Bloggess.”

http://www.petitelefant.com/2010/02/3-mormons-bloggess.html

A sea of people in a very posh suite at the Four Seasons wearing McDonald’s bags on their heads.

The Wienermobile (pretty much the only wiener present at the entire conference).

Brief, yet meaningful (to us, naturally) encounter with Jenny – which lead to reading her “inappropriate interview” which led to potentially life saving knowledge that if Jenny “is ever a Twilight style vampire” her power will be “to make people pee with her mind.”  LESSON:  If you spontaneously wet your pants, The Bloggess is a vampire, and you should immediately take appropriate precautions.  

http://www.edenfantasys.com/interviews/the-bloggess-jenny-lawson-021110/

This is only the tip of the Mom Summit 2.0 iceberg of course.  Ad Hoc Mom loved having the chance to meet so many of the writers who keep us from going completely mental/eating entire bags of cookies/running off to Vegas to be a showgirl, etc. etc. etc.  You rock our worlds – and again, thank you for not spitting on us, making fun of our shoes, or taping “trip me” signs on the back of our dresses. 

What did you do at Mom Summit 2.0???

Xo,

Paula & Tonya  
Ad Hoc Mom