But does she eat pastries?

Wednesdays are my favorite day of the week with Ingrid. First, I like the natural hump day vibe, an almost celebratory workman's feeling of making it through.  Second, we have music class in the morning followed by a weekly picnic with some mom friends in the Duke Gardens. It's my only super scheduled "mom" day of the week.

The Duke Gardens are surely one of Durham's crown jewels:  A koi pond, rose garden, petting zoo, vegetable garden, natural plants reserve and several fountains all open to the public.  The university's gift of a garden is one of the (only?) most elegantly mediated town-gown overtures in Durham. And the mom's I meet there always help get me through the week.

When Ingrid was first born, I signed up for a mom group and found myself in the awkward position of trying to date mom friends.  My two best friends in Durham are not moms, but they adore my child and I love them, so it was hard not to constantly compare the moms I met to these women.  Still, I'm sure  talking about nap schedules would be annoying for my friends, so I tried to meet other moms.  While all the moms I met were nice, none had that spark that allows you to keep. talking. forever.  Last fall at this time, I joined a newborn group and after everyone was done talking about poop, I said, "Who here is watching 'Homeland'?"  Radio silence.  Then, another time during a meet and greet we were going around the rooms introducing ourselves, our babies and why we live in Durham.  That last bit was a chance for every woman but me to explain that Samir's dad was a hand surgeon doing a medical fellowship at Duke. When it was my turn I gamely said, "We're also in Durham because of Duke, but sadly Ingrid's dad is the wrong kind of doctor." I thought it was a great line!  But instead of laughing, everyone just played with their babies' footie outfits.

I love talking about my child, but, especially in the early months, there wasn't that much to talk about. Or, what was sanctioned for discussion -- poop, tummy time, introduction of oatmeal -- was boring to me.  If one of the mom's wanted to talk about the overwhelming sense of love they felt for the baby when they nursed, I'd have been game.  If someone else would have shared that they too were bored to tears by the endless days in the life of a four month old, I would have cried along with them.  But so often the talk was just a veiled attempt at making sure each baby was keeping up with the group.  And, none of them ever ate any of the baked goods at these playgroups, which for me was always the most compelling reason to go.

Luckily I found these new moms through a mom friend I could talk to forever.  And thankfully they talk about toddlerhood and Netflix in equal measure. Maybe it's a better group because we're all just more comfortable in our roles as moms, and it doesn't feel dangerous to say that we love our baby but they're driving us crazy because of X, Y or Z. Or maybe these are just women who like to eat pastries and don't have hand surgeons for husbands. For whatever reason, it makes for a good hump day.