The It Girl

It was Girls Night Out. It was a "welcome to the Windy City, Kate" kind of evening. I got dressed - skinny jeans, black top, Charles David peep toe heels. (Left the Manolo's in their bed to be ogled again tomorrow.) And kissed Peter goodbye as he topped off a growler of the home brew he was going to take to his reciprocal boy's night.

I made it downtown around 6:00 with the high hopes that Kate would be ready to go. I should have known better. Instead, I arrived just in time for her characteristic struggle to figure out what to wear. We tried on and nixed white pants, black pants, dark jeans, light jeans, thin corduroys (seriously, Kate, it's summer time), ten different tops, and ultimately lighting struck, "I have it" and with a quick change she emerged from her room. 
"Ta da! .... Oh ... we're wearing the same thing ... do you care?"
"No. It's fine. let's go." 

We walked across the street to Japonais and moseyed up to the bar. Ashlee met us a couple minutes later, and we formed the most conservative group of women at the bar (in comparison to the VERY short dresses, high heels, and low cut shirts that walked past us.)

We sat down to dinner around 8:30 and I checked my phone. I had a text. And an email. And then I got a call from my Mom. Laura was in labor. My niece was on her way.

Now ... there is one thing that can take me away from girl talk and giggles; from Kate, Ashlee and Kim Crawford; and from the potential of being in the center of the hot dance floor du jour. That's the arrival of a VIP - of a girl who is way cooler than anyone lounging in the Cabanas, going to the head of the line, or receiving bottle service. OMG - the It Girl was coming out. So I finished up my lobster spring rolls and headed home so I could get ready to meet her.

Rumors had it that a trip to the zoo might have stimulated her arrival, but my theory is that she heard it was Girls Night and wanted to come out and party. She heard the whispers of Hubbard Inn and the pop of champagne. She saw the scantily clad girls, and rolled her eyes with us. She felt the rhythm from across the Lake and wanted to dance. So ... she started boogie-ing. And twisting and twirling. And right as the lines up and down Halsted started forming, her mom said, 'Ok, I'll dance with you.' And they went at it - all-night - it was a (painful) dance marathon that lasted into the morning. 11:11 AM to be exact. She made her debut, had one last drink, and then crashed in the arms of her proud parents.

Yep, like any good girls night out, the next day was reserved for lots of rest - lots of story telling - lots of "Wow - How did that happen?!"

Lyla, you are just perfect, and I loved meeting you yesterday. (And don't worry, you won't be wearing the same thing as all the rest of the babies for long.)

You are in great girl company and you've got a bevy of beauties all around you, ready to take you on many more girls nights out. You've got aunts and great-Aunts, grandmothers and great grandmothers, cousins and second cousins, and of course the most beautiful mom of all.

Lo.