Thursday, July 22, 2010

Throwing Confetti on my 30s

I don't know about YOU, Friends, but my 20s weren't exactly the decade to end all decades. I went through four years of hell college, (that now, via the amnesia-like effects of having children, I remember fondly). I married The Man and moved to a bigger city. I lived through two newborns (one with severe *shudder* colic) (one with an early health problem) and one teenage girl born from-anutha-mutha. I gained weight and lost it. I got post-partum depression and it visits regularly to say hello lost it. I sold my house, I bought a new house. I went through about three cars and more motorcycles. I had hair disasters and went to a ball. (I did!)

And I never made it to Vegas.

My 30s are edging closer to being in the middle of the decade. Okay, not quite yet. I'll be 32 in November.

The point of all this? The point is, that Mommy is DONE phoning it in. Your Favorite Writer is tired of the blahblahblah Groundhog's day routine and shaking it up - even just a little bit.

I reached a point, last week, where I wasn't just taking a brief sojourn to Crazy Town; instead, I'd jumped on the crazy train, kicked Steven Segal in the crotch, and named myself Supreme Dick-Tater.

I was done with Life as I Know It. I'm still done. I'm ready to stop screwing around in the weight room and start some serious bench pressing already! (That's only as much of an analogy as you'd like to make it...)

And dammit. I'm GOING TO VEGAS.

The problem, Friends, is that I am most assuredly NOT taking the Children of the Corn to Vegas with me because Vegas = NO KIDS. I don't care if you take YOUR kids to Vegas (but don't take them when I'm there because I'll be all red-thong-party's-on-love-the-song-sing-along and encouraging The Man to do body shots off my belly in the middle of the blackjack table. You've been warned.) but I won't take mine. Noooooo.

I must find some GRANDPARENTS. Yes, yes, that's the only way.

Grandma will commit to half a day since she's in the midst of Big Life Changes and has other things going on. Grandpa? Paging Grandpa!

It's times like these that I really think my parents should have just manned up and trudged through a few more decades together; not because *they* would have been happy, but because it would have expanded my child-sitting options! Take one for the team, grandparents, that's what I say.

Frankly, I've only over-nighted away from the Nuggets once (at the ball, the BALL!) and really, I need to blow this Popsicle stand from time to time. For EVERYONE'S sanity.

Right now, I have my Eyes on the Prize and I'm taking charge. This involves some St. John's Wort, some actual hard workouts, a new laptop (that I'm watching on eBay) and some abject begging of the Grandparents.

I'll keep you all informed. Together, we can make this the Decade to Remember.


Aunt Becky said...

Yeppers! I'm doing the same thing. Balls glued on, 30 will be my bitch.

Sammo said...

Hell to the yes. I will make 30 call me Daddy.