Fun, Interrupted

by Cathy

I was watching an episode of Parenthood the other night. One of the show's couples is separated, but take turns having their son visit. In this episode, the boy was to spend the weekend with his dad, who was at the woman's house to pick him up. "I made lunch for him for the next two days," the woman said, "so you don't have to worry about that." (Are men not capable of slapping some meat and cheese between two pieces of bread? But that's a whole different blog post...)This reminded me of the song and dance I always have to do before I leave my kids in the care of someone else at my house. Since Joe and I are blessed with plenty of family nearby, we get free babysitting services pretty much anytime we need them. As such, Joe feels like we should at least make it easy for the babysitters (usually the parents) by preparing dinner or throwing on a pot of coffee, partly because a) he feels bad that they have to watch our kids and cook for them and b) he gets annoyed that they will never 'make themselves at home' by helping themselves to the sandwich fixin's or looking for the coffee filters. Once, they even felt bad about turning up the heat and we returned from our night out to find them sitting there in their coats. Okaaay?

So to put them at ease and have everything at their disposal, I will inevitably be in the process of getting all gussied up - full-on hair and makeup, platform heels and sparkly jewelry up the wazoo - standing over my stove whipping up mac and cheese or sprinting down the hallway with my bath towel wrapped around me, attempting to rescue the burning pizza, all before I go out.

This process is the equivalent of you cleaning your house before your cleaning lady comes over.

The other night I was at a girls night out, and the only other mom at the table, who also happens to be Greek, says, "I had to make sure everything was handled before I went out tonight," referring to her first girls night out in a long time since having her baby.
"Don't tell me," I butted in. "Did you whip up dinner before you came out to dinner? Because I'm sitting here smelling like Greek pan-fried french fries. Sorry if I reek," I continued, fanning out my blouse. She erupted with laughter. She had whipped up a meal.

As moms, are we destined to never enjoy our rare Getting Ready To Go Out Without The Kids Routine instead of being interrupted by countless trips to the kitchen or the countless other preparations we must do to ensure proper care of our kids as we try to enjoy our night out? Are we destined to go out with one earring, incomplete makeup and no deodorant because we forgot what we were doing prior to running to the kitchen for the bazillionth time?

Wait, don't answer that. You need to focus on what to make for dinner before you go out. Get to it.