On this particular morning, I walked into the cafe and found Alissa sitting in the back. She’d already gotten herself a coffee. She was holding the cup with both hands, still feeling the chill from outside. She was wearing jeans and a fabulous off white sequined top under the perfect navy blazer (not a spot of spit-up to be found), a pair of slouchy knee high boots – low heel – in mahogany with side buckles and they DID fit her calves. She had a manicure. French, pppfff of course. Her wedding and engagement rings fit her ring finger perfectly. Her hair looked lovely tucked behind one ear with ease, curls flowing and not frizzing. As I approached the table, I noticed her looking down and smiling. Of course. She’d brought the baby. He was in his carseat. I stopped and watched for a moment. As I stepped closer to the table his face became visible and I could see why she didn’t want to take her eyes off of him. He was THE CUTEST BABY IN THE WORLD.
Me: Hi, Alissa.
Alissa: Hi! So good to see you.
Me: Thank you so much for agreeing to this interview. It’s been awhile.
Alissa: Yes, it has. But the time off has been worth it. She looks down at her son…nope…sorry her manicure.
Me: He’s beautiful. How old is he now?
Alissa: Thank you. Ten weeks, eleven on Saturday.
Me: He’s so calm, such a good baby. He seems very advanced. He was holding a menu running his finger down the list of iced drinks.
Alissa: How nice of you to say that. Yes, I don’t mean to brag, but he is quite extraordinary. I don’t want to compare my baby to others. Although, he does seem to be gifted. And perfect. And gorgeous. In fact, he may start talking next week – you never know! She laughs.
Me: And how are you doing as a new mom?
Alissa: Wonderfully, I think. I’ve managed to look stunning, didn’t you notice? And, my child is clean, in a fresh diaper, keeping to himself and occasionally smiling at me to let me know that he needs me but is not overly needy. My husband is completely content with our new family life and is sure we’ll be able to afford everything a child needs. If you were to go to my house right now, my floors would be vacuumed, laundry done and put away, dishes loaded in the dishwasher and everything in its place.
Me: That sounds…almost impossible, but okay. So, you’re getting back to work then? We would love to know what’s next for you.
Alissa: Work? Who’s working? I had a kid so I could stay home and watch Oprah.
Me: Ha. That’s a joke…right? Anyway, you’ll be churning out something stellar soon?
Alissa: Totally. Yes.
Isn’t my child pretty? His poop smells like the rainforest.
We sat and talked for another hour while her son filled out an application for Mensa or plotted the takedown of all wireless communications – I’m not sure. I swear he winked at me once. Look for a continuation of this interview in next month’s issue. Find out Alissa’s other uses for a breast pump and why you shouldn’t panic when the doctor delivering your baby says, “What is that?”