(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 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.
“I’m forty-three, and there aren’t a lot of us.”Standing solo by the bar was Jennifer M. “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!
From Taiwan to Singapore, authorities are stepping in to organize speed dating and other matchmaking events in a desperate attempt to stem falling birth rates.” 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. 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.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. “I’d like to meet someone from the senior set,” Allison B.(Henry, six months), a stay-at-home mom from Prospect-Lefferts Gardens. 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.“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! Others hit the bar for another round of Long Island Iced Teas.