Moms who drink and swear

I once watched two moms exchange babysitter references in the bathroom of downtown Columbus hot spot Oxygen.

It was somewhat of a weird scenario. It generated the same kind of disbelief I experienced while watching moms my age pose seductively for photos inside Big City Club, or savor a round of shots at H2O.

For years, I feared motherhood -- not so much for the responsibility it required, but because it seemed to immediately immerse its members into a cult of judgment and perfection.

That's changed.

There's a growing "bad mommy" movement composed of mothers who aren't necessarily "bad," but are willing to publicly admit to lapses in maternal instinct. I touched on the phenomenon when I reviewed these books.

Now, there's this article, hilariously entitled "Mommy wants a drinkypoo." It focuses on moms who admit to indulging in martini therapy, the same women who feed the success of Web sites like Moms Who Drink and Swear.

The outlets have done a lot to erase the aura of flawlessness that for long has accompanied motherhood.

Still, as I watched a parenting discussion happen in the Oxygen bathroom, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd feel just as liberated if our roles were reversed.

How does going out change once you become a mom?