Mommy was already a fringe member of the neighbourhood Mommy groups, given her lacklustre baking skills and shameful habit of dressing you in sleepers at all hours of the day (well beyond the three-month grace period.) But now you’ve really sealed Mommy’s social fate as a Mommy pariah with your newfound hair-pulling fixation, depriving Mommy from hereon in of one of her only opportunities for adult conversation when Daddy’s at work (even if said conversation involves exchanging explosive poo stories and Raffi song recommendations.) Unfortunately Mommy’s desperate cries of “Gentle! Gentle!” only make you pull your victim in closer, until Mommy is forced to pry you away, beg for forgiveness, and then disappear with you into the night, her head bowed in shame. Mommy thought hairless babies were safe from your iron fist, but apparently you don’t distinguish between a handful of hair and scalp. Even more upsetting than the trauma you’re inflicting on your former playmates is Mommy’s realization that, for the rest of her life, any bad behavior you may engage in will always reflect on her and something she should/shouldn’t have done / said / taught / discouraged / encouraged / practiced / read / fed you.
DRINK: The Lonely Island. Get in touch with your inner Tom Hanks with this Castaway-inspired mocktail. 2 oz coconut milk, 2 oz fresh lime juice, sparkling water. Shake coconut milk and lime juice together and pour over ice into a chilled tall glass. Fill with sparkling water, stir, and garnish with a mint sprig. If you’re feeling lonely these days, befriend a volleyball. “Wilsonnnnnnnnn!”
Pre-baby, Facebook was fun. Post-baby, Facebook is hell. The status updates from the non-baby crew are: Exotic travel! References to music! Checked-in at hipster pizzeria slash tequila bar! Mommy longs for the days where she was part of that elite crew who put their night back together through tagged photos and foursquare. And what the fuck is “Pinterest”? Mommy can’t keep up. The status updates from the baby-crew are: My baby! Don’t you love my profile pic that’s of my baby! Check out another upload of my baby! Below the photo there are comments from other parents about how cute the baby is, followed by many exclamation points. Mommy only wishes she could post what everyone’s really thinking: that kid ain’t right. Hey look, Mommy has a friend request! Sadly, it’s Insert Baby’s Name Here’s Mom from playgroup (Ignore). After commenting on a link to the latest OK Go video in an effort to project an image that she’s still cool, Mommy was tagged covered in regurgitated rice cereal at Rainbow Songs. Mommy’s status update: feeling as relevant as MySpace (wait, three friends “like” this?).
DRINK: The Friend Request. 5oz sparkling wine, 1oz raspberry vodka, splash of Chambord. Garnish with fresh berries and enjoy the instant friends you make when you serve it.
Some women at Mommy Group complain that their babies are not sleeping through the night. “My Liam wakes up once in a 12-hour period! We’re going to have to hire a Night Doula.” What. The. Fuck. Not only will you not sleep through the night, you’re up every 2 hours. Mommy has been forced to replace actual restorative shuteye with caffeine and carbs. She was going to max out an RESP so you could go to Harvard, but at $10 a pop for a Venti and an artisanal cheese scone, it looks like you’ll be going to the University of (*shudder*) Windsor. To add insult to injury, after desperately attempting to nurse you to sleep last night, you puked Linda Blair style down her threadbare Bravado bra. Mommy was too exhausted to do anything about it, so she spent the night in someone else’s vomit. Memories of Cancun circa 2001.
DRINK: Mexican Coffee. 1 oz Kaluha, ½ oz Tequila, 5 oz coffee. Serve hot and steamy just like that night on the beach with Ernesto. Or was it Todd? Not important. Vacation flings don’t count toward your “number”.