Dinner party musings

Crawling in his people-pen

This is the first real social event I have attended with Isaac where I didn't know many people, and I was struck by a dichotomy at this party. The first thing Abigail's mom and I did was set up camp on one side of the room on the floor, and adoring parties formed a protective ring around the babies. This ring persisted throughout the night, and also as the babies came and went. We moms traded baby-holding with the respective Dads and with other baby-seekers in repeated, desperate attempts to stuff our faces, but mostly stayed put and entertained our little troopers. On the other side of the room was a dining table, which filled up over the course of the night with people who did not once enter the baby-ring. These people did not sit on the floor, but instead in proper chairs, ate as they pleased, and laughed and talked and drank a bottle of wine.

I thought about this obvious line-drawing several times over the course of the evening, and into today. I have to admit, I was really jealous of those babyphobic persons at the table, for several reasons.

1) Before I got pregnant, I had established the very pleasurable, classy, and heart-healthy habit of a nightly glass of red wine with dinner. For obvious reasons, I completely abstained from alcohol while carrying my darling child, and I could count on one hand the number of sips of alcoholic beverages I have had since Isaac popped out. That has been a big bummer for me. Totally doable, but still an occasional source of put-outedness.

2) Michael and I have had 1 (that's ONE) grownups-only night together since Isaac came along, for our anniversary in July. That's it. Before Isaac, we went out a lot. Now even leaving the house is a total chore, something most-times I don't have enough energy to do. I miss our mobility, but I also miss the time we had to just focus on each other, and on having grown-up conversation.

3) When the babyphobes went home, they would eventually go to sleep. And when they slept, it would be until they woke up or their alarms helped them to. When I went home, Isaac was so tired from this unusual activity that he had to be put down for a late nap at 5:45. He woke up at 6:30, and didn't go to bed until 8:30. The grownups went to bed at 10:30. Isaac woke up again for a late-night snack at 1:30, and then for good at 5:30.

So, like I said, I was jealous. Until I got home. When my baby woke up, it was time for his dinner. I turned on some dinner music for us and sang to him while I fed him, and he rehearsed his adorable babbling repertoire for me. Then I got down with him as he played on the floor, and every five minutes he would turn to me and babble or grin or something to get a smile out of me. Or he would try his hand at climbing Mt. Mom-more, his favorite object to practice his pull-ups on. My very favorite time, toward the end, was when he got too tired to crawl completely over my lap (we call that "off-roading"), and instead laid down, with his belly on my lap, turning his head to the side to lay it gently on my thigh. I will TOTALLY take that any day over whatever those crazy babyphobes went home to.