31, Single, Baby Birthday Parties

Ideally, baby birthday parties are awesome. There are cute kids all over the place, alcohol for the adults, yummy ice cream cakes, songs that bring you back to the first time you peed on the potty, and untouched pizza boxes just begging to be opened by the adults. Ahhh, nostalgia. But being a single person at a babe’s birthday party really just makes you feel… well, singled out. 

Have you ever showed up as a single gal in your 30s to a baby’s birthday party and felt so out of place that you were so desperate to find a “rent a kid” for like an hour, pop a couple baby Benedryl, and rattle yourself to sleep to Kanye’s nursery rhymes? If the answer is yes, then you have been to the shindig below. If the answer is no, then stroller yourself on in to the birthday party of “what to expect when you’re not expecting”.

Stage 1. Arrival & Paranoia. You arrive a little later than the moms and dads, to everyone looking at you like something is severely wrong with you. Is she hungover?  Why is she single? Why is she lateLike, you are sorry. Your imaginary kid can’t play with their real kid. How can you fix this? After getting stares from every corner of the padded gymboree (which is so “insane asylum chic”), the beautiful milfs approach.

Stage 2. Pity & Terrified. “Aw, how are you? Are you okayyy? It’s so hard.” Um, ya. Sigh. “How is single life? Any potentials? Who did you go out with last night and the night before? Where do you see yourself one year from now?” Silence and sighs. You feel instantly bad about yourself and head on over for the pizza boxes and down three smaller slices, which in your mind is the equivalent to not even one so you allow yourself two more ‘slices’. But like, you really kinda feel bad for yourself. But not in a chug-a-bottle-kinda-way, but def a glass-of-wine-kinda-way. You head towards the bar. Models and bottles, baby! Woooo.

Stage 3. Surprise & Shock. You glance over to notice your friend’s kid throws up on her sweater, dripping down onto her new Givenchy bag and Fendi pompom dangling from the side. Shit, her sweater! And her Givenchy! Does she need you to speed dial leather spa for her? Oh wait, you can’t. You just got a match on bumble, brb. You scoop one of your BFF’s babies and head on over to the parachute circle. God you used to love this. Everyone is looking at how you will look once a parent and let’s be honest, holding a baby just instantly makes you look hotter. Table for Milf+1, please? You are called into the center of the circle alone to bounce around with your baby in hand and instantly feel like you’re in a hippie seance ready to get sacrificed. Get marriedddd. Have babiesss. You snap out of it and you smell cake. Follow the cake.

Stage 4. Buzzed & Confident. As the cake comes out, you are standing alone and instead of a baby, you are holding your camera and taking some snaps. It is a Kodak moment, after all. As people start to shuffle out, you say your goodbyes, roadie up the leftover wine into an empty baby bottle, and hail a cab. You feel good. You have a good buzz going. You don’t have a stroller to fold up and shove into the trunk. Just you. I went in really wanting a baby and am leaving thankful that I don’t. Weird.

Stage 5. Anxiety & Spontaneity. As you ride down in the cab and swallow your last drip of wine, you find yourself sweating in a broody (a British term for feeling maternal) panic. You want a baby, you want them now, and where the hell is your prince f*ucking charming? In a tizzy, you call your gyno leaving her a frantic message that you need to get off birth control and be pregnant by tomorrow. K, byeee.  This can totally work. It’s 2016. That baby Benedryl would really come in handy right now or even a baby wipe to wipe your tears.

Stage 6. Light Bulb Moment. As you snap out of your “I-need-to-be-a-mother-right-now-I-am-single-wtfffff” coma and wipe your eyes, you feel a sense of calmness come over you. But I really am so glad that wasn’t my Givenchy. 

xoL

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