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Did you used to be fun?

I used to be fun.

Or at least in MY MIND I was fun.

I could go out and have a few drinks with my husband and friends, eat OUT at a *swanky restaurant (*OK, “swanky” enough for struggling workaholics living paycheck-to-paycheck in the city), and sometimes, if we took a cab home, we’d even go DANCING. Hello, we’d even go out for Happy Hour in the MIDDLE of the week. But we’d get up at 6:30 a.m., work out and rock a full 10-hour work day. I’d pop a couple Advils, down a cup of tea and I was fine. Ready to tackle some Mad Men-style-for-the-90’s public relations campaigns. Sometimes, I might grab a glob of carbs from the local barista to keep me going until lunch, but for the most part, I was fun.

But since I have become a mother…. No, wait, let me autocorrect that statement: Since I have become a 40-something mother, things have changed.


Let’s just say my lame meter is high. And my fun factor has calmed down.


Deflated like a week-old balloon.

So much so, some weeks, I fear I’m turning into an octogenarian.

How lame of a mother AM I, you ask? I’ll tell you.

1. I’ll start listening to the Oldies station without even realizing it’s the Oldies.

2. I was belting out a song by Foreigner at a stop light the other day and realized a car full of 20-somethings were pointing, staring AND laughing. At ME. (Not with me, AT ME!)

3. Going to see a live band that starts at 9 p.m. used to be a once-a-week tradition, now I’m lucky if I catch a concert twice a YEAR. (And Lord help me if it STARTS at 9 p.m.)

4. I saw Neil Diamond in concert recently. And yes, I KNEW EVERY SONG. (Thankfully, the show was over by 10:30 p.m.)

5. I down two beers and feel like my head has been invaded by a VW Bug full of ass hats 12 hours later.

6. I get a migraine from red wine. And Margaritas.

7. My body can only tolerate beer and champagne now. And by champagne, only the good stuff. If it’s cheap, fu-gedda-boud-it.

8. When I do go out, I need 7 hours of sleep. IN A ROW. If I don’t get it, I’m really, really, really cranky the next day (and feel like my head has been invaded by a VW bus full of ass clowns).

9. Referring back to #8, do you know how hard it is for a 44-year-old-work-from-home-mother-of-two-human-and-two-canine-kids to actually sleep for four hours straight, let alone 7? Don’t even talk to me about my sleep patterns or night sweats during pre-PMS weeks.

10. If I stay up past 11 p.m., it’s a really, really, really big deal. As in: I might NEED a nap the next afternoon.

11. If I don’t get a chance to take a nap in the afternoon (even for 10 minutes), please revert back to #8 and toss me a vat of cheese dip, a bag of lime-seasoned Tortilla chips and leave me alone to wallow in my over-44-hormonal-misery to binge watch TLC. Thank you very much.

Yes, things have definitely changed since we had kids.

Especially since turning 44.

We still have FUN. But it’s a lot different these days.

We have fun doing simple things.

Like bike riding to the beach to catch the sunset with my 11-year-old.

Meeting the girls for brunch.

Hosting a group of tweens for a pool and pizza party.

And watching the sunrise with my husband from our back porch.

I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed taking my daughter and her friends to see the premiere of Pitch Perfect 2 the other night. I’m sorry, but Rebel (a.k.a. Fat Amy) makes me belly laugh.

Don’t get me wrong. I still enjoy a night out with good friends. Or date night with my husband (who makes me laugh until I tinkle). Even if it’s twice a month rather than twice a week!

I guess I can still be fun.

As long as I’m home by 10 p.m. 😉