Who Says a Mom Can’t Have Her Cake…And Eat It, Too?

In other words, what it’s like to be a 33 year old Mom on a bachelorette party…!!!

In a few short days, my best friend and long-time college roomie is getting married. And COVID has really messed it up for her big day. She originally had a wedding planned for December at a resort in Mexico. To say this mom (me!) was eager for a real adult vacation is an understatement. And she having been a maid of honor at my wedding, I couldn’t wait to be there for her big day…the one she’s deserved since she was put on this earth. But, stupid COVID. So she planned a smaller, more intimate wedding for family in Cape Cod later this month. But then the Mass. governor put all the travel bans in place, and with her fiance’s family being from the Dallas area, that had to be canceled too. Stupid COVID. So finally she settled on an elopement in a few short days. No family, no friends, just her, her fiance, and a JOP. Stupid COVID. She’s gone through the ringer when it comes to this wedding, so we wanted to make sure she felt special for one last weekend, COVID restrictions and all. Kristen, we love you!

And now I’m about to tell the world what it’s like when two of the most opposite things in the world collide: being a mom, and a bachelorette party.

Let’s start from the beginning.

I have not been away from my kids overnight since September 30th, 2019. I know the exact date because that’s the weekend my husband and I escaped to Nantucket for a long weekend as a babymoon in preparation for Tessa’s arrival. My daughter is 8 months old now. And most of you know she has never taken a bottle, no matter how hard we’ve tried. Sooo safe to say I had some anxiety leading up to this weekend. The cherry on top being that my husband has also yet to be on his own overnight with all three kids too.

The good news? Well, a couple pieces of good news. One, I haven’t seen my college friends in ages and we had a pretty awesome day planned so I had some excitement to counterbalance the anxiety. Two, when I asked my husband, he had absolutely no anxiety or nerves surrounding the weekend whatsoever, even though I envisioned a baby crying all day and night because the boob was nowhere to be found. Three, two other nursing mamas also on the trip, and friends with lots of understanding and compassion.

Fast forward: Instagram ready on a chartered boat out in Boston harbor with a jet ski, driving green, plenty of spiked seltzers, and neon wigs. Definitely not a normal page from my reality. (If you can’t guess which one is me, just look for the loose fitting mom sweater and long mom skirt…)

The reality? Ha. Just you wait. There’s lots going on under that neon wig and mom outfit. Including but not limited to a panty liner to catch the pee I will leak all day long, a dose of antibiotics to stave off current UTI symptoms, high-rise spanx underwear UNDER my bathing suit to hold in all the extra skin and still look (halfway?) decent, nursing pads to catch the let downs that occur every time I think of my baby girl, and a huge black bag in tow that just happened to be filled with my breast pump, a mini cooler for pumped milk, and a hands-free nursing bra so I could pump and still enjoy some spiked seltzers. Also, about the hairy legs and unmanicured nails. Oops! And of course, I DIDN’T remember to pack my nursing poncho/cover…which just meant I was pumping for all to see whether I liked it or not.

But you know what, why should I be ashamed of that? Why should I worry about hiding all that? Why couldn’t I be a mom AND a good friend having a great time on a bachelorette party? Screw that, I totally could! So I pumped a lot, texted the hubby often to see how things were going (she took her bottle FINALLY at 6am this morning!), and yawned my way through dinner wondering how on earth I’d stay awake till the end of the night.

But I did it. I embraced the sh*t out of the situation and felt more free than I ever have in my life..well at least in a really really long time. The captain may have seen a few more boobs than he bargained for, but it was worth the good laughs and special times with friends I rarely get to see these days because of my reality. And my homecoming made for the sweetest (and usually unusual) extra snuggles from the bruises, with no plans to dictate our Sunday…and a hubby who, despite being on his own all weekend, still let me sneak in an afternoon nap to make up for the late night out (home by 11pm, that counts as late, right?).

In retrospect, I had two choices facing me this weekend: drain my cup and wallow in the challenges of trying to have fun in a social situation while filled with anxiety, OR fill my cup, refresh my soul, and come back a better mother for it.

I filled my cup, and I’m feeling pretty grateful. ❤