A few nights ago I met up with an older journalist for cocktails. We sipped our drinks and talked about work, men, the usual subjects. Then she mentioned she’s going to New Orleans for a week with nine of her friends from college to build homes. “That’s so cool!” I exclaimed.
“Oh, we’ve done a vacation together every year,” she explained. “We don’t all go every year, because when the first one of us had a baby, we made a rule that no children are allowed to come. Usually the ones with younger children miss a few trips. But most of us go each year and leave our kids home with our husbands.”
Color me flabbergasted. My stay-at-home mom never did anything like that. And my three sisters, who are moms, have behaved at times like they can’t go see a matinee with me without Navy SEAL-level advanced planning.
“I’m a bad mom,” my new friend smiled, sipping her cocktail while her two kids sat at home with a sitter.
“Oh, no!” I assured her. “You’re the kind of mom I want to be!” Keep reading »