I wish we didn’t live on opposite sides of the universe; that Hungry Caterpillar party looked amazing; I just wish I could have attended in person. You really went all out!
I guess this is the type of party we throw now. Gone are the days of searching for the perfect bachelorette theme. You know, slightly suggestive but not too obvious; my favorite was “Bed, Bath and Beyoooond”. (It’s okay if you rolled your eyes; I just reread it and rolled eyes at myself. Cheesy, I know!). Now we scour blogs, Pinterest, the internet, and our brains for kids’ birthday party ideas. It is fun, in its own way, but doesn’t it make you feel a little, well, old?
Here was Guy Guy’s, Pinterest inspired, first birthday cake.
This week, J came home with a funny, “old guy” story, and it got me thinking of all the ways kids make us old. Or feel old, anyway.
Over Memorial Day there was a big music festival here. We didn’t go (who wants to battle crowds, and parking, and over priced beer when you can stay home and do something useful– like stain the swing set?), but a very young 20 something in J’s office did. On Tuesday he had a conversation that went something like this:
“Hey J, did you go to the Folklife Festival?” She asks, shoving half a doughnut into her face and swigging from a large Starbucks cup.
J pours a cup of hot sludge from the free coffee pot in the office kitchen. He picks up his homemade bran, quinoa, kale muffin and responds, “No, I went to Ikea and bought a kids’ table. Did you go?”
“Oh, yeah, totally. It was awesome. We saw such’n’such band.” She pauses while she watches him for recognition, and then, slowly adds, “You ever heard of them?”
“Yes, I have. I read about that concert in the newspaper.” He adjusts his tie and rebuttons his suit jacket.
“Um, you read about it in the newspaper?” She asks, a hint of sarcasm and confusion lacing her words.
He wonders, briefly, if she doesn’t know what a newspaper is. After all, she is firmly a member of the smart phone generation; maybe Reddit is her primary news source, but he just says, “Yes, there was a nice write-up about it in the Seattle Times.”
“Um, okay. That’s cool.” And then under her breath, “Or not.”
Okay, so maybe the conversation didn’t go exactly like that, but when J told me the story, this is the scene I envisioned. I mean seriously, when your main line to pop culture is the newspaper (yes, we still get an actual paper, delivered to our door. I told you, we’re old people) you suddenly enter a whole new
age life bracket.
But it’s not just pop culture. The geriatric life style is invading my home from all sides.
I blame the children.
Before them, long weekends involved movies and concerts, alcohol and last minute trips. Now they’re reserved for yard work and painting projects.
Before them, dinner was at 7, or later. Now kid bedtime is 7, so we eat with the bluehairs at 5:30.
Before them, date night started at 9. Now, well seriously, who stays up til 9??? Reckless hooligans, that’s who.
Before them I had a beautiful, teak, dinning table, which the kids were ruining. Now that table is covered with a pad, which the kids were ruining. So I spread a table cloth on top of the pad, which the kids were ruining. So I, honest to goodness, pulled out my sewing machine and sewed clear plastic to the table cloth.
I slip covered my table. Slip. Covered.
And you know what ? I’m glad I did it. Now I have a pretty table cloth and it’s wipeable too!
See, I told you, the kids have made me an old lady!
But I think the coup d’etat of child induced geezerdom happened after a chili dinner. Since the kids were born I get the worst indigestion, and I wondered aloud if we had any antacid in the house. Turns out we did..