lunch with grown ups.

Here’s this week’s column, dedicated to all the women out there who used to be great conversationalists.

“I really need to get out more.

Being a full-time, stay-at-home mom isn’t just a bunch of hyphens, it’s a world in and of itself. My version of the English language consists of smaller words and shorter sentences; conversation around here is rarely stimulating (unless I’m monologuing about proper bathroom etiquette, then someone usually feels moved to action).

With this in mind, I’m sure you can understand how a lunch date with my husband and his mostly male co-workers is both terrifying and invigorating.

Last week my mister called to invite me to lunch. “Hey babe, Dominic is in town for the week and we’re all going to lunch in an hour. Can you get away and meet us?”

Truthfully, an invitation like this always makes me feel overly special and totally adored. If he only knew how easy I really am.

“Of course! Sure! The older kids will be at pre-school, I can bring the baby!” I quickly changed out of my mom jeans and into something more deceiving and attractive. Any excuse to curl my hair and throw on a pair of stilettos, right?

I dropped off the kids and headed to the restaurant. Pulling in, I saw my man and his co-workers heading inside. Just as I parked the car, the baby began to cry.

A loud, hungry cry.

What to do? Suddenly, feeding the baby in public didn’t sound like the convenient, natural answer that accompanies me to play dates and Mom’s Club. No way was I pulling the girls out while simultaneously making small talk with a bunch of male desk jockeys.

With a sigh, I sat in the car and fed her as fast as possible. I thought, what’s an extra ten minutes?

That’s when she pooped her pants. And her shirt, and her socks.

Really, Fate? Can’t you just give me one hour with the grown-ups? One hour that isn’t dominated by poop and spit-up?

I finally made my way into the restaurant (fifteen minutes late), and took a seat at the far end of the table.

It’s a funny thing, getting together with grown-ups. Before I became a mother, I was a master at adult conversation. Politics, weather, social media, you  name it.

But the moment I sat down and someone asked me, “What’s new?” I knew they didn’t want to hear the answer. I quickly eliminated, “Junie now poops on the potty!” and “I just bought the best new nursing bra!” before finally settling on something lame like, “Not much, but I sure got a great parking space!” Really, so sad.

Riding in the car with my husband after lunch, I gave an uncomfortable smile. “Well, I’m not the girl I used to be. It took me a good fifteen minutes to remember how to talk like an adult.”

He laughed, “Don’t worry about it, someday you’ll be a grown-up again.”

In that moment, I had a glimpse of just how fast these years are flying. My days of spit-up and melt-downs are numbered, and I have the feeling a part of me is going to miss them. Kind of.

I think I’ll stick with peanut butter and jelly as long as I can.”



  1. My problem with adult conversation is that I have almost completely lost my vocabulary. And the “almost” is only in there because of blogging. But when I try to have a conversation that’s not about elementary school or teething or tantrums, I stumble through it.

    “…and into something more deceiving and attractive.” SO TRUE. Love it.

  2. So True! Just this weekend I went out with my sister in Laws. Two of us have kids and the other is 18. We went out to “get away” and the 18 year old made the comment that is was funny how the moms go out to get a little break, but all we do is talk about our kids! It will be a beautiful day when we can go out and have real adult conversations again. Will that really ever happen?

  3. My upcoming birthday present to you is a dinner with zero children. You are welcome!! 🙂

  4. Sooo been there, done that. Head to the hubs’ fancy pantsy Christmas party every year, and I am so out of place. I used to be so comfortable– now all I can talk about is homework, potty training, and so forth. Oy.

  5. it is hard sometimes to come up with enlightening conversation. I remember the days of constructing a peanut butter sandwich and mounds of diaper folding *(YES, I used flannel white diapers, that you had to swoosh out in the toilet, yuky) Seems at those times there just isn’t much to talk about. Back then I could tell you everything that was happening on Young and the Restless.
    THEN…….the kids all grow up and you get older and it is just you and hubby, and you are retired and look at each other like “what should we talk about”. And I have to say it two or three times cause he can’t hear me (tee,hee)
    But I seem to have the very best conversations with myself, cause I listen and I know all the right answers.

  6. I am SO in the market for a nursing bra! What is your favorite brand and why? You’d think by #3 I would have purchased one of these before. I guess with 2 extra pair of inquiring eyes this time around, I might try and be a little more discreet in my nursing.

  7. I can totally relate. I can’t even seem to have adult conversations in my head any more. And if I do, I use bad grammar. Like how I talk to my three-year old, “How am you?”

  8. Brittany Bowen Burton says:

    Well that’s certainly the right attitude to have. But more importantly, I want to hear about this best new nursing bra that you bought! See! Someone wants to talk about that, and I’m an adult… most of the time.