Last week I became a member of the Hoboken stroller mafia. When I met up with the group of new moms that make up my Wednesday lunch crew on the corner of Fourth and Park, I passed my friend Danielle who shouted, “Hey Kate, you’re in the stroller mafia now!”
Well, I suppose I am.
Indeed, as I rolled my seven-week old up to The Turtle Club I was surrounded by a colorful hive of pink Bugaboos, aqua Uppa Babies, and my own dark blue Bob jogger I bought to hopefully actually jog once in a awhile and shed this baby weight. We all met through the , and our mushy little offspring were born within weeks of each other this winter.
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It was only my second time at , but as I walked in I remembered how much I liked it the last time I was there. (Being a downtowner I’m partial to .) Both bars get a slightly-older crowd, if 29, my age, is considered “older.” We made quite a picture: ten moms, ten strollers, ten babies of all shapes, colors and sizes.
After a bowl of chicken soup and a glass of beer (it helps milk production. And tastes really good!) I got to talking with one mom of a five-week old. You can imagine my shock when she told me of a recent experience she had when she went to her local bar, Tenth and Willow, for a glass of wine with her husband and baby after a long day of changing diapers and tummy time. She actually—I’m not making this up—was asked by the bartender to bring her stroller and baby to the back of the room because having a baby at the bar didn’t give the establishment a “cool vibe.”
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Glancing down at her adorable bambino, dressed in a fun t-shirt that said “skater” on it with a patched-on skateboard, I can assure you, this little person was cool in my eyes.
On a trip to Spain during college, I was amazed to see children at a local pub drinking orange juice alongside their parents who were enjoying glasses of wine. Old people, babies, toddlers running around: this bar had it all. It felt like a community of people who liked to be out of their apartments, enjoying alcohol and conversation while their children kept them company. That’s why I was so disappointed to learn that a bar here in town would care so much about their image that they’d ask a new mother to go to the back of the room, out of sight. She could still be at the bar, but just not at the bar.
This is silly, because it’s basically making a mother feel she has no place in the public, and should stay home, perhaps knitting booties or warming a bottle. And although I'm not a big drinker, my (100 percent Irish) husband is. Finding an establishment that suits all of us is a challenge.
So, watch out bars of Hoboken, the stroller mafia may be coming to your establishment soon.
