Some time between the age of 5 and 9, your children’s social lives tend to become far more active and exciting than your own. This is possibly a good thing because once you have kids you’re too tired to go anywhere.
Rather than spending weekends searching the shops for the perfect outfit, heels and make up, weekends as a parent are spent dropping off and picking up the cherubs from various birthday parties, sleepovers and playdates.
This weekend was no different and at one stage I had three kids out at different outings. I completely forgot where two of them were by 11am on Saturday. Mother of the Year strikes again.
When parents eventually get a random invite somewhere, it involves one of two things;
- Family outing – bring the kids. Simple enough, put jeans on with t-shirt and scarf type accessory to look effortlessly chic and scream: “EVERYONE GET IN THE CAR NOW!”or
- Adults only – Adults leaving the house without kids on a Saturday night involves preparing dinner, feeding, bathing, cleaning up house so babysitter or your parents don’t actually think you live with a mountain of clutter, washing and hardenend weet bix on the floor, threaten big kids with bribes to help with little kids, find something to wear that isn’t the same outfit you wear to every other occasion, fish around drawers for spanx or other figure hugging undergarment to pretend you still know how to dress and you fly out the door with half your mascara running down your face. Who cares though, you’re LEAVING THE HOUSE FOR THE NIGHT.
The family outings tend to be more steady in the early years but as you get closer to 40’ish, many parents are saying goodbye to the toddler years and are ready to regain their social lives and, at times, party like they’re 21 again.
We had such an occasion on Saturday night. A good friend was turning 40 and the party was at her house which didn’t mean travelling too far there or home. Double Bingo! I knew this was going to be a good one as it was with my posse of Mum’s who don’t mind a drink (or twenty). They’re usually so busy having a great time themselves to judge how much you’re drinking or that you can’t stand up straight.
After putting something that looked like a lasagna in the oven, I informed my Mum that we had an extra child for the night (she was completely unfazed by 6 kids, as usual – God love her). I prepared myself to get dressed and ready in 10 minutes. First outfit I put on and The Big Guy told me I looked like a jungle woman. I guess that’s a ‘no’ to the leopard print dress then. I had no idea when he became a fashionista but he rarely comments on my attire so I’m assuming I did look like an overweight zoo animal. I settled on my effortless casual chic look and exchanged jeans for black pants. Off we go then……..
I didn’t think about the children again until 8am the following morning. But when I did hear them….woah – ouch.
We walked in and this home had been turned into a real life nighclub. Strobe lights, smoke machines and the all important doosh doosh DJ tunes. My inner epileptic had mild concerns that I may just tip my toes up into a seizure mid-way through the party but the first wine made me promptly forget about any potential medical issues and I simply remained impressed that I had a friend who could turn her home into a nightclub.
The night started very civil with chit chat about jobs, life, kids, education and ridiculously inappropriate things our kids have said since we last saw one another. The wine was flowing and naturally the boys congregated in the corner talking about whatever Dad’s talk about but they stuck together like glue so as not to be reeled into the chick chat.
Slowly but surely with the wine flowing non-stop we all got dressed up in crazy wigs and outfits in the photo booth. We took pics, drank some more and before we knew it we were making requests to the DJ to bring back the 80’s and 90’s music and there we were, late 30 and 40 somethings DANCING LIKE TEENAGERS in a circle with one person in the middle showing off their 90’s dance styles. The Big Guy was hammered enough to compliment every single one of my friends on their décolletages and am hoping it’s purely because he’s 6ft 5 and had a good view otherwise he’ll not be attending any more school events. Ever. Nearly all the closet ‘I only smoke when I drink’ smokers came to the surface and about 1am the merits of taxi’s vs walking home were being argued between couples who couldn’t speak English let alone walk straight.
Aghhhh good times. Best party I’ve been to in ages! I spent the remainder of Sunday in my exercise gear lying on the sofa mentally running a 10km marathon whilst watching back to back episodes of Air Crash Investigation and complaining to the girls on Facebook about my epic hangover. Oh to be 21 again! No thanks!
Sometimes it’s just healthy to let your hair down, have you let your hair down lately and just pretended you weren’t a parent for the night?