I'm not a mom, but I want to be. I'm also not married, but I plan to be before I am a mom. So, while I'm firmly on the love, marriage, then baby carriage track, the fact that I hope for motherhood (and am watching more and more friends have children) means my dates have to endure my soft spot for children. I'm by no means suffering from baby fever, but I'm not going to hide the fact that I want to gush when I see a sweet family or a toddler randomly walks up to me in Target and grabs my hand, thinking I'm his mother. Take it or leave, right?
I was sold on BABIES, the documentary that follows four babies in different countries for their first year, the moment I saw a preview nearly a year ago. Still, when my main movie date suggested we see it on date night a few months ago I was flushed with anxiety. Could we handle a quadruple dose of parenthood and intimate visions of a stage we're clearly not at? Could I enjoy the movie with him by my side?
We survived. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the film more than I did — talking about the Ponijao, who lives in Namibia with her family, for weeks to come. I got lost in the cinematography and silent stories, but I didn't identify with it because I am not a mother. The movie allowed us to be spectators into a world (or worlds) we're not a part of, and so we enjoyed it for art's sake. We had little to say except "that was pretty" as we walked out. When thinking about it later I realized that while it can be hard to broach the subject of marriage before you are there, parenting and babies are a natural bonding point. Babies are cute. Babies are funny. Babies make you smile. All qualities of a great date night.
Tagged with: dating, babies
I made a made a pregnancy pact with two high school classmates this February. Don't worry, you don't have to call the principal. We're grown ups.
Let me share some backstory: My closest been-through-it-all-together girlfriends are settling down and entering the urban mommy decade — that leviathan span between 29 to 43. Between Sunday brunches, career crisis phone calls, double dates (or in my case, awkward set ups) and bridesmaid gown fittings, we've acknowledged marriage and motherhood are the next giant step in our lives. It's more than the gushing after of cute Stella MaCartney for Gap duds. Our careers are in full gear. We have bank accounts. Life is very good. While it may not be ready this month, it lies ahead.
So this year we pledged to plan coinciding parenting years. We have a target induce date, but I'm not telling. (I'm single, remember!) Why the pact? Because if our history and watching our pregnant and already mom peers has taught us anything, it's that we are going to need support. In an ideal world we will have the unyielding devotion of the baby's daddy, but there's some candor and camaraderie that can only come from a woman. Whether she's your best friend, mother, sister, or that stranger who tells you "that happens to me all the time too". We want to spend the final week of pregnancy with our feet propped up together, overlap our maternity leaves, and most of all, know there will be someone to call when life gives us stinky diapers.
LilSugar, which happens to be one of my favorite Sugar sites, once asked readers whether they'd created pacts with pals and the majority of moms said they had. I'm glad we're in this together.