“If I see someone breast-feeding at the park, I think, Oh, good, she’s not a nanny,” she said. K., but then she starts badmouthing vaccines and I’m, like, Red flag! I feel like an underachiever.” Probably not a match. (unnamed kids, ten and thirteen) slid in across from Lee I. ” Two women who’d bonded over the Cry It Out philosophy jumped in front of the sequinned photo backdrop. “It was nice to meet you,” she said to her tablemate.” “How many times a day do you want to throw your kid out the window? (Julian, three years) asked a young woman who was sipping water. Others hit the bar for another round of Long Island Iced Teas.
Every day I receive several emails, “winks,” “yeses” and “likes” from men as close as my new hometown in Florida and as far away as the Czecho Republic and Greenland.Two mothers from Montclair, New Jersey, piled into a black Volvo on a recent rainy evening and drove forty-five minutes to a lonely street in Gowanus.“It’s a good night for being inside making friends, right? bedside companion for parents,” Frank’s biweekly podcast covers such themes as “What Does Your Breast Pump Say to You?” Hillary Frank (mother of Sasha, four and a half) said to her friend, Natalie Chitwood (Freddy, five; Wynn, two), as they unloaded goody bags containing sweet-potato-and-pumpkin baby food. ” and “A Parents’ Guide to Eating Over the Sink.” “Over and over, I hear, ‘It’s hard to make mom friends,’ ” she said. You’re suddenly in charge of this person, and you don’t want to screw it up.Frank, the host of the WNYC parenting podcast “The Longest Shortest Time,” was worried that the weather might keep women from leaving their plastic-toy-strewn homes for the Bell House, a club where she was holding her first live event, “Speed Dating for Mom Friends.” The twenty-five-dollar admission included a cocktail, snacks, and plenty of promising new adult playdates. You need support.” She and Chitwood met four years ago, at mommy-and-me yoga. Tonight, she was hoping to help her fellow-moms find the same thing. Aretha Franklin’s “Baby I Love You” blasted, and new mothers from such places as East Harlem and Williamsburg wandered in and scribbled nametags.“I’d like to meet someone from the senior set,” Allison B.
(Oliver, thirteen months), a personal stylist, said. Beth Pappas, a professional speed-dating host, who had on black stilettos and a spaghetti-strap top, took the stage. “Interior row stays seated, exterior row rotates.” She banged a butter knife against a gong. ” The room erupted with the sound of women talking.
“I’m forty-three, and there aren’t a lot of us.” Standing solo by the bar was Jennifer M. “I have four children, and I don’t work,” Chana M., an Orthodox Jew with red lipstick, told her tablemate. Lee I., an environmental planner with the mayor’s office, brought up her daughter’s love of singing.
(Henry, six months), a stay-at-home mom from Prospect-Lefferts Gardens. “Wow, you must be busy,” Allison B., the personal stylist, politely responded. continued, “Most women in my community have three to six kids and work. confessed that she is the founder of Park Slope Parents, and that if moms needed to speed-date maybe she wasn’t doing her job. “No, I don’t want to know about Afterward, the mothers were invited to “grab your new best friend for a picture in the couples photo booth!
I’ve gone on too many dates to keep track and enjoyed them all, though I haven’t found that special someone.
It takes time to review all the men’s profiles and their correspondence, but reach out to men who seem more promising.
I recently read one 55-year-old man’s profile from a website that covers Jewish singles.