Christina Montoya Fiedler: Monday morning in my house is filled with dread -- mostly on my part. It's the start of another work week, unending piles of laundry and dishes, and a diaper pail that's seen better days. Wait! What? We're out of coffee? Don't panic ...
So, what is the best thing to do when there is SO much to do? Nothing. I can see it in my 8-month-old's eyes as well. "Mama, let's play! Forget about everything else!" So, this Monday, I decided to start the week off right, by putting the "p" in procrastinate. I loaded up the baby and went to a Mommy and Me movie at the local cineplex. It's a simple enough concept, and in theory, it's a great idea -- have a movie each week that is reserved for moms and their babies. Basically they are quarantining us, but it gives us a chance to see the latest blockbusters so we can sound cool when we get out to meet with grown-ups.
Joe and I got our tickets and hurried in. We were late. The sea of strollers parked outside theater number two told us we were in the right place. Hesitantly, we walked in, not knowing what we would find.
There were definite cliques of moms: Those that go to these things religiously and have a built-in set of friends, super-organized moms who looked like they had gotten there an hour early to claim a seat and set up shop, brand-new moms with wee ones who couldn't have been more than a few weeks old, and then me. I fell in to the category of moms that showed up haphazardly, on a whim, in dire need of some fresh air and change of scenery.
Joe was content and so was I. Once we were finally settled in, we snuggled up to a bottle and a Diet Coke, ready to watch. He's an easy baby, the kind that would easily trick you into having another one too soon, but I digress.
I watched three men come in with popcorn in one hand, soda in the other, and walk right out. One look at the audience of drooling babies and unkempt moms sent them packing. I don't blame them. It's not a place for the weak.
It's really a new feeling changing a diaper in the dim light of a darkened movie theater, hearing the low din of whimpering babies, and smelling baby smells (good and bad), all while taking in a flick. But, I didn't care. I was out. I won't even say what the last movie I saw in theaters was, cause well, it's just that sad.
Will I do it again? Yes. Can't miss next week's romantic comedy. Oh, who am I kidding, I'll go see anything.
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|Christina Montoya Fiedler resides in Los Angeles, CA, with husband Andy and her son Joseph. She juggles baby and work from home as a freelance publicist and attributes her strong love for life and sense of humor to her loving familia.|