I escaped from home one evening last week into the night air and across town.

I escaped from home one evening last week into the night air and
across town.
I escaped from home one evening last week into the night air and across town.

My destination? A night out with the girls.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had taken part in this all-important ritual.

I had vague recollections of sitting around in close, conspiring circles, sipping red wine and sharing confidences with some gal pals.

But this was all pre-Emma, the 16-month-old light of my life. Since our daughter’s birth, my husband, Chris and I have traded nice dinners out, wine-tasting and artsy films for pizza ’round the Barbazette table and the Wiggles.

What? Never heard of the Wiggles? They’re probably best saved for another column.

Needless to say, the last time I had a night out with a few girlfriends was when I could still fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans. My first pregnancy that is. And that was many moons ago.

Men have never caught onto this particular pastime. Sure, they chat on the golf course or give each other high-fives at the ballgame. But they don’t make a point of gathering together to find out what is meaningful – or not – in each other’s life.

Not that my girlfriends and I always sit around pondering the state of the world, but I like to think I have learned a little more about each one when I leave the table.

I can’t always say the same for Chris. Heck, he rarely comes home with any new information about our friends after he’s hung out with one or two.

“So, how’s Bill’s wife, Nancy? Has she gone back to work yet?” I’ll ask Chris after one of his golf trips.

“Uh, I think so,” Chris answers.

“Well, what about David and Cheryl? How are they doing with their new baby?” I try again.

“I guess OK,” Chris says.

We ladies are different. Not only would we know whether Nancy has gone back to work and how David and Cheryl are adjusting to parenthood, but we’d also know how Nancy is coping; why little junior isn’t sleeping and we would’ve recommended three good advice books to help them out.

I guess we’re just wired differently. Chris may not completely understand, but he knows how much an evening out with the girls means to me. So he made a point of coming home on time – God bless him.

As soon as I heard the garage door open, signaling his return, I hustled out of my Mommy gear and scoured my closet for an outfit that didn’t look slouchy, holey, or stained. This proved to be more difficult than anticipated. Especially for this Mom who also happens to be six months pregnant. I finally settled upon my cutest maternity jeans and a shirt that required actual ironing.

Then leaving behind Chris and Emma to her nightly routine of bath, books and bed and with nary a drop of guilt on my conscience, I met my fellow Mommy friends at a favorite Gilroy watering hole.

It felt decadent sitting down at a table without a diaper bag or toddler in tow. If I could’ve chucked my cell phone out of a window I would’ve.

Sipping a frothy strawberry drink sans alcohol, I caught up with a few friends whom I met through Las Madres, my lifeline since Emma’s birth.

Once we got all the Mommy talk out of the way, one of my friends set a ground rule: no talk about the kids.

I have to admit I panicked for a brief second. What? Not talk about my Emma? What else would I possibly have to discuss?

I know this may sound a little pathetic, especially for my dear readers who don’t have any kids. Heck, it would have sounded sad to me, too, two years ago. But in my current life with my days revolving around the needs and wants of our16-month-old, sometimes there’s little room left for anything else.

But as soon as discussions began about books, movies and our former lives pre-children, I relaxed into familiar territory.

We talked about our families, our weddings and anniversaries. We spoke gravely about divorce – our parents’ and friends of our generation. We reflected on our past careers, managing a home and a family and what we hope to take on next. We shared our disappointments, hopes and fears.

When I left to return home three hours later, I felt reenergized and looking forward to my next evening out with the girls. It’s hard to put a finger on what exactly boosted my spirits.

Perhaps it was the camaraderie we all shared. Perhaps it was the frothy strawberry drink and being out late on a “school night.”

Perhaps it was just relaxing with friends who can relate to my topsy-turvy life and who care about me and where I’m going.

Whatever it is, I feel very lucky to have found it.