Promise not to call CPS after reading this post ok?
Going a month without feeling like I’m an unfit mother was pretty good. I hadn’t left her anywhere, always had an adequate amount of diapers (and still do thanks to a fabulous diaper cake from my husband’s grandma and aunts), and I seemed to be doing a pretty darn good job, considering. Where I crossed the line into questionable mothering skills was during BlogHer.
I hadn’t planned on partying it up. I’m much more of a homebody typically, and my idea of a good time is playing games or chit chatting with friends. So the lists and lists of parties to hit up wasn’t on my BlogHer to-do list. With or without my baby. But I did get a special invite to a very exclusive party that was for hand-picked bloggers this company wanted to get to know.
We weren’t suppose to tweet about it, or announce it on our blogs. It was totally on the D-L. So the night of the party I was torn between going to this secretive party to hear some alleged big announcement for us bloggers or go to a nice free dinner with my mom friends with their babies.
I wrote to one of the party organizers and told her I had my month-old baby with me and asked if it would be appropriate if I bring her. I tried to insist that I would be offended, but that I really wanted to know if I should go or not. She wrote me back and said it was fine to bring her, but to know there’s loud music playing so it was up to me. It wasn’t the clear answer I was looking for but after running into another friend who wanted to go, and since I had an invite I could use to put a friend on the list, I decided to go with the unknown.
We’re at a bar, and Lil’ J is hungry. I breastfed in First Class but I think I draw the line at a bar. Not that I’m ever normally at bars so it won’t come up again but it was a strange situation. I went to the restroom to feed her and she went to sleep.
I went back out, scarfed down sushi, and all the other hors d’oeuvres they had around, and drank two Shirley temples. Stuffing my face is my way of coping with uncomfortable situations.
I talked with some of the people hosting the party and commented on how secretive it was, hinting at the fact that if there was a point to this get together, I was hoping they’d make it soon.
“Well yea, you know… The less you tell people, the more people you get to show up,” he told me.
Oh, so that was the ploy the whole time? Well, I fell for it. It was totally my fault, and I felt like a horrible mom for bringing my baby to a bar. The name of the place was “Mercer Bar” so I had no real good excuse. I was hoping I’d hear about a new opportunity but really, it’s something they could, and probably will write me about later. There was no real need for me to be there.
When this realization hit me I had a hard time keeping it together. It was like the dam holding all of my baby blues in blew, and I had to get out before I became a blogging topic.
Jill from Baby Rabies was sooooo sweet and helped me hail a cab (in New York… Ok, I’ll admit that was kind of fun) and get us situated and back to the hotel. I cried–no–bawled the whole way (I’m laughing about this now) and I’m sure the cab driver thought I was CRAZY!
I didn’t do the best job hiding my emotions before I left either. I guess some people noticed my leaving early because later someone said people were asking if I was uncomfortable at the bar because I’m Mormon. More than being embarrassed someone noticed–I was flattered someone knew who I was, and the fact that I’m LDS.
Looking back it wouldn’t have been as bad had I not had someplace else I could have been where I knew I would have felt more comfortable, but I was kicking myself the whole time wondering “why am I here and not there?” If I had known what the get together was going to be like I wouldn’t have gone. But you live and you learn. No more choosing the unknown for me.–At least not when my daughter is with me.
It wasn’t a wasted party because one of my new friends–Gina, from Femenist Breeder–took a pregnancy test while we were there and found out she’s pregnant! After 8 months of trying! We were all so excited for her. It made me remember how excited I was when I found out I was pregnant. I’m not sure that feeling would never get old.
Unfortunately, that night at the bar will go down in my journal as my first “bad mom” moment. I know it won’t be my last though (though I promise there will be no more bars).
The night was salvaged once I got back. I met up with Maggie, who got ice cream and yummy chicken and rice with me from a landmark NYC stand.I also met Shari Criso, who got me all pumped up about breastfeeding. Emily introduced Becca and I to her, and we all had a great conversation. Ironically we were sitting in a hotel bar, and I did end up breastfeeding Lil’ J there. So I guess I’ll draw the line for nursing in public at strip clubs.
Tomorrow I’ll post the last bit of my BlogHer recap tied into my personal advice for people who want to go, and how to get there! A big thanks to Piggies and Paws for sending me this year!!