Girls Night Out

Tonight was my big night out with my friend Angela. We agreed to meet at 7:15 at Cedar Door downtown. I was so excited to be out of the house with someone who wasn't A) my husband or B) my infant child or C) any animal in our menagerie. I love them all but sometimes a girl just needs the time spent with a girlfriend to talk girl stuff. The morning started out well with the JT being cooperative and eating on a somewhat regular schedule. In my life regular means not every hour. I had been storing milk for the guys and had 2 bottles ready to go and had planned to pump again before I left the house at 6:30. I jumped in the shower at 4 and came out to screaming and crying and a bottle that was reserved for the evening already in consumption. After a small amount of visiting to calm down both dad and baby I went back to finish getting ready. Back in the bedroom I could hear them carrying on again but I gave the guys their space. Eventually I'm going back to work and I can't be jumping to the rescue forever. Once I was done I came to hang out with them in the front room and found the carrying on still carrying on. I offered my goods to the kid to quell the lip quivering screaming and general unrest. At this rate I was going to be lucky to get out of the house. 6:40 came and I headed towards town. Normally the first thing I do is turn on the radio but tonight I found myself halfway to my destination and the radio still off. It was nice to just look around the scenery and enjoy the silence. 7:15, I'm in Austin, I park and find Ang on the patio. I haven't seen her since JT was born and we had lots of stories to share. Me and my new life, she and her trip out of the country and her new job. We fell into our conversation and before I knew it an hour had passed. My phone rang and I thought twice about answering it. It was my MIL calling for some help. I hung up, ordered some food and just as my food arrived my phone rang again. This time it was Kevin. Before I even said Hello? I heard the wailing. I should have known better but I asked how he was doing. "I'm in hell" was the reply and I knew we had trouble. JT had stopped crying for all of 15 minutes since I had left. He had consumed 2 more bottles and still wasn't happy no matter what dad tried to do for him. I knew before I asked but checked if I needed to come home. Dad and babe just weren't ready for a night away from mom and my presence was requested immediately. My night cut short, I boxed up the rest of my dinner and kept waiting for the irritability to set in. How dare my time out of the house be cut short? Did I call him when I was dealing with a nursing baby and flying bird? Do I call him when he's playing disc golf and I'm still sitting in the same spot on the couch for the third hour while JT eats again? I was waiting to feel anger about dad not being able to cope with our baby for 2 hours. But surprisingly enough it didn't come. A small part of me felt proud to be a mom at this point. Proud knowing that there were 2 people out there that really needed me, whatever the problem was, but just that I was needed and nothing else would resolve the situation. That's some kind of power to have, being a parent and maybe more importantly a mother. A mom's job, I've learned already, is going to be a nonstop flight. There will be interrupted dinners. Interrupted date nights with my husband. Chances to meet with friends pushed to the side. For my little guy, right now, I'm the most important thing in the world and nothing will take my place. I am his human pacifier. I am the one with the soft touch and gentle whisper that will turn off the tears in a nanosecond. And I'm fine with that.