November 14, 2010

Mommy-Daddy-Baby Dinner Party

June, Lucas, Tessa and Sawyer, Class of 2028 

When I was pregnant, I religiously went to prenatal yoga with Bethany Hard every week. It was the best part of my week because Bethany is a little blonde Kundalini goddess who could always find a way to sideline whatever it was I was worrying about that week. (I worried a lot the whole pregnancy about everything from retardation to cleft palates. I often Googled extraordinarily rare baby afflictions and showed Nekos pictures of them.) At yoga, we drank hot tea and ate dried apricots to strengthen our uteruses, we listened to childbirthing experts speak, and we stretchhhhhed out our new, swollen bodies. Much of the joy of those yoga classes was meeting other pregnant women who were just as bewildered, thrilled and hormonal as I was. Now Tessa and I do Mommy and Me yoga with Bethany (when I'm not up against a deadline), and I've met even more cool women. There are all kinds of moms out there--lots who I don't like much. I like the fun, smart variety who don't put their nose in the air because you parent your child differently than they do. I like the moms who drink wine and will say out loud that sometimes having a baby is just the worst thing ever.  

I had an idea to do a Mommy-Daddy-Baby dinner party, to get some of my favorite little families together for an early dinner. I liked how chaotic and impossible it sounded. Start time: 4 p.m. Nekos made a kick-ass batch of spaghetti and meatballs and invented a crawfish bruschetta appetizer with crawfish that a real-live Cajun man gave us on the airplane on the way back from New Orleans two weeks ago. I made Martha Stewart's Flourless Chocolate Cake (best thing ever) and a salad. 

I set the table outside with tablecloths and candles and Nekos lit a fire. It ended up sprinkling on and off throughout the night so we moved the table up on the porch under the big umbrella. During dinner, no one sat down all at once. There was always someone feeding a baby, saying "no!" to a baby or snuggling a fussy baby. It was as chaotic as I imagined. And best of all, we managed to talk about some things other than babies. Which is sort of nice for a change.

Before everyone left we had to line up the babies on the couch and take a picture. Almost every picture has at least one baby blurred with movement. I hope this can be a regular thing--like a mommy-daddy-baby supper club. Or maybe it should be a brunch or lunch club? This was the only dinner party I ever had where everyone left by 7 p.m. Kind of amazing. After Nekos and I cleaned up the kitchen, I climbed into bed to read White Oleander, which I'm obsessed with right now. 

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