I’ve mentioned it before, but when my kids were about five weeks old, we started a new mom class. It was at an awesome local maternity/child center, and a perfect baby-safe first outing. There were nine of us new moms. I was the only one with twins, which I’m actually grateful for. (They have since added a twin-specific new mom group, but I’m glad I took the “normal” one. I had enough twin mom friends, it’s nice to know other people, too!) We all showed up that morning, I seem to remember it was an early class, like 9:30 in the morning. Everyone was frazzled, but I think we were all thrilled that there were little seats set up on the floor for us, a Boppy for everyone, plenty of space for carseats, no worries about boobs left and right. I think the entire first class was spent with us all going “oh, your baby does that, too!” It was such a relief.
Our teacher, Carole, was the greatest. A registered nurse and lactation consultant, plus just the nicest manner and greatest group facilitating you could hope for. As the first class wound down, she told us, matter-of-factly, that we should all go out for lunch together. Right now. We all just kind of looked at each other, shrugged, and did exactly that. We did lunch after class every week for the six weeks of the class. It was great! She also told us to try to get together mid-week, and we sometimes managed that, too. It was a perfect kick-start that you need when you’re clueless and sleep-deprived.
One of the things that I marveled over the most was the dynamic of our class. Of the nine moms, the only thing we all had in common was state of residence and the birthdays of our firstborns. Different ages, different backgrounds, different professions. And yet, we all got along really well. We didn’t even have the ubiquitous “annoying person” that tends to mess up group dynamics. (Unless… crap… unless that obnoxious person is me. Um, if it is, sorry guys…) We were a totally random set of people thrown together, and it just plain worked.
And continues to work. We’ve tried to get together periodically for brunches, though I’ve missed the last few due to a strange illness curse that strikes just when we’re about to do something fun. I worried it would happen this weekend, too, but with only a very slightly runny nose on Rebecca, I decided we were a go.
7 of the 9 moms made it, and the only two who didn’t either had family in town or a tiny newborn.
We had such a blast, you’d think we got together every week. Pot-luck brunch seems to always go well. Nice time of day for the kids, plenty of kid-friendly food. The kids played, the dads pulled them around in wagons, and we even shut the door and had a mommy check-in for the first time in ages.
We marveled at the fact that our once-tiny-newborns are now about to turn two. Since our class, the group now has two more babies, and I suspect there may be a few more in the next little while (no, not me!).
And, yes, we bribed them with donuts just to try and get a group shot. With marginal success. Better luck next time.
So, a huge thanks to K/C/C for hosting, and a big hug and kiss to all of the moms. Can’t wait for a group second birthday party. I’ll make cupcakes. 
Saturday was manicures and pedicures for me and my girls, the rehearsal, and the rehearsal dinner. Much fun was had, M and I were appropriately roasted. After the rehearsal dinner, we all headed to the bar at the Grand Floridian. M and I were lucky that the shots of tequila didn’t affect us the next morning. The most spectacular, though, was one of M’s groomsmen getting hammered and shouting that he was “angry and fertile” while stumbling down the grand staircase at the hotel. I don’t think we’ve stopped laughing about that one yet.
The instructions are these:
Taking up much-needed storage space is a stack of the kids’ old recieving blankets. Well-loved, frequently-washed flannel with somehow nary a prune-juice-spit-up stain on them (thank you, Oxi-Clean). A little too ratty to pass on to someone else, but too full of newborn memories (to think, we used to be able to swaddle them in those blankets!) to throw in the trash. Out comes the ruler and the rotary cutter, and the dozen or so blankets are rapidly becoming stacks of six-inch squares, destined to become 
My only debate right now is what kind of blanket I’m aiming to make. Do I want the warm, snuggly kind that you curl up under on a chilly night? Or do I want a smaller, lighter one that can be dragged around and slept with as a comfort item? It’s a difference not only in size but also in construction. A heavier, warmer blanket would have batting in between the layers for warmth and weight. A little lovey blanket could just be two layers of flannel with nothing in between.
