Back in the day I used to go to a lot of concerts. I still keep an eye on the tour schedules of my favorite bands and take note when they come to CT, but usually never actually make it out. So, I was aware that my favorite little folksinger was going to be here and I’d considered buying tickets, but come on – I have a 10-month old baby (and a 3-year old), the concert was on a Monday night (of the second week the baby is in daycare) and the venue is over an hour from my house. Then I saw an ad on Facebook that my bank was giving away a pair of tickets and I thought what the heck.

And then I won the tickets! I felt like it was meant to be. R and I desperately needed a date, my mom had decided to extend her stay from Florida (so we had a babysitter) and the tickets were perfect for our limited budget (free!). And then, just days before, R decided he just couldn’t go. His week was just too nuts to be out that late on a weeknight. That seemed to be the general consensus of my friends. So, I invited a young, hip (do the kids say that anymore?) co-worker who loves going to concerts. She’s a lot like me  – 15 years ago.

It’s amazing how much coordination one night out takes when you’re a mom. Do I drive home thirty minutes in the opposite direction to feed the baby or stay two hours late at work and leave right from there? I had to pump for an extra session for four nights so I’d have enough milk to cover the extra bottle or two. I had to juggle leaving work, picking up my older daughter from school, bringing her back to work so R could pick her up there.  Then my husband had to decline a meeting at work so he could make it to my office and then to daycare in time to get the little one. I had to alert daycare that he’d be later than I normally get there. Blah, blah, blah.

And then, I had to find something to wear! Nine months postpartum is such a weird time. My post-baby clothes are big and frumpy, my pre-baby clothes don’t fit very well yet, and there are still some maternity pieces hanging around. Let’s face it, I’ve been postpartum or pregnant for the last four years. And that’s when I start getting down on myself. I don’t have a single “going out” shirt. I don’t think I own a single thing except sweatpants that this co-worker hasn’t seen me wear before. I desperately missed all of my college friends and living close enough to someone to raid their closet at the last minute. I texted all of my work friends and begged them to bring me a cute necklace or something to make me feel dressed up. And they came through. I love those ladies.

Leading up to the night out, I felt like this . .  .

But it turned out to be a super fun night. We had a great dinner and saw a great show at an absolutely beautiful venue. Turns out my friend from work knew some of the new songs and I knew the old songs. And the Little Folksinger has a 7-month old of her own and confessed she hasn’t been able to finish writing a song since he’s been born. She reminisced about old shows where everyone used to take their shirts off. I was surprised that I wasn’t the only one saying “those were the days.” And towards the end of the show she played a great song called If You’re Not. I felt like she was singing it to me. Am I better off than I was four years ago (when I had zero kids)? Absolutely!

And here’s a little extra for you if you’re a fan, an interview with Ani on being a Mindful Mama.