I like to think I was kinda cool before I had kids. I wore sassy shoes with heels. I stayed up late and slept in. I read Cosmo. I went shopping just for fun. I had parties (and not of the Tupperware variety, either thankyouverymuch!) For awhile I thought I was still cool even after I had one. Not to be shallow, but a baby is a very cool accessory these days-just pick up any gossip rag; mommyhood is all the rage. (And for the record, NO I did NOT have kids so I would have a "cool accessory". As a matter of fact, it took me over two years to finally get knocked up.)
But no matter how cool I might've once been, it is painfully clear to me that I am definitely no longer, in any way, shape or form, cool. Maybe it was turning 30 that did me in, I don't know. All I know is, I'm not wearing shoes I can't chase a kid in; if I sleep until 7am it's a miracle of God; shopping is a dreaded task that involves groceries; and the last magazine I read advertised "26 Low Cost Recipes" and "$68.55 Worth Of Coupons Inside!" on the cover.
The realization that I am pretty lame came on slowly. The thought first occurred to me when my little sister, who's pretty much half my age-13 years younger-came over. She walked in with her tight jeans and fluorescent plaid belt, all long curly hair and white teeth, looking totally cute and young and, well, hip. (Is that even a thing anymore? Do the kids say "hip" these days? See??? Lame-o!) I told myself that I was hip in an age appropriate sort of way and felt a little better.
The next inkling that I might be getting old and lame came at the grocery store. On the way in, I got distracted by the "Hardy Mums and Asters" plant display. "Wow, what a great deal-only $6.99 for that big pot," I thought as I picked one up. Hey, flowers are pretty and pretty is always cool, right? So, therefore not totally lame. Next, I passed the magazine rack and the Family Circle caught my eye- the cover advertised "Slow Cooker Recipes" , and it was only $1.99! "Oooh that will be great for fall", I thought, and picked one up. As I stood in line with my potted plant, mom magazine, and fake chicken nuggets, behind two college students buying stuff like organic cheese, tortilla chips and booze, I felt utterly, completely, lame and O.L.D. The biggest plans I had for the night were surfing the web looking for a swing set on sale for my kids.
The notion that I was definitely no longer cool became a stone cold truth when I was hanging out with my family over the holiday weekend. My young, hip sister spilled lunch on her new tank top, and I looked at it and actually said, very seriously, "Oooh, you're gonna have to use some Shout Advanced for Greasy Stains" on that!" Gawd. Of course, my 25 year old brother didn't hesitate to tell me just how lame that was, and even my MOM laughed. Yikes.
But you know what? When my babies give me hugs and kisses and tell me they love me I don't care if I'm an old fuddy duddy. Besides, kids think their parents are superheroes. In their eyes, there's nothing we can't do. When they see me and their eyes light up and they run over and throw themselves at me, there's no better feeling in the world. (You people with teenagers just shut yo mouths now! I know you're muttering "Oh just you wait!")
I might not get out much, but when I look at my life I realize I have everything that matters, and the rest is just stuff. But, seriously, if you see me in JC Penny picking up some mom jeans and a fanny pack, PLEASE stage an intervention ASAP.