Winter is long–so long–’round these parts, and as kids do, parents tend to come down with a case of cabin fever, too. In an effort to combat the elements and serve Mother Nature the junk punch she deserves, a bunch of us 30-somethings intent on reliving our glory days took to a friend’s house to christen his new bar. We had ourselves a barwarming party, if you will. We recruited grandparents and babysitters to watch over our broods so we could have a few carefree hours of no diaper changing and no “I wanted dat toy but he tooked it and won’t share!” It was Date Night for Parents! No Kids Allowed! Parents’ Night Out! Weeeee!
The shindig barely underway, I realized I was in over my head. Even when I was
in high school a legal 21-year-old, I couldn’t hold my liquor. A few drinks and I’d giggle myself to sleep; more than a few and someone has to hold my hair back. Though not much has changed today, I’m still the groggy, happy drunk after two shots, and a complete mess after two and a half, I was determined to make the most of our night sans kids.
Despite our best efforts, there were undeniable contrasts between partying like College Crazies of 2000 vs. Tired Parents of 2013. For starters, no one was underage. In fact, some of the guys willingly brought chaperons: their dads. Seriously, there were grandfathers playing beer pong. They threw at the cups underhand and made a disgrace of the game, but they were so dang cute we just smiled and nodded at them.
Some other indications that we can’t hang like we used to…
1. The party started at 4:30 in the afternoon.
2. It no longer takes me 3 hours to get ready to go out (the most time consuming part is now stuffing myself into Spanx). I threw concealer over the black circles adorning my under eyes and put my hair in a ponytail. READY!
3. We didn’t pre-game. Unless you count three games of Candyland, then I pre-gamed the hell outta that.
4. My husband brought his famous chili. CHILI. If this had been 10 years ago, and he told the guys he was bringing a crockpot of beans instead of a six-pack, they would have banned him for life.
5. Everyone remained fully clothed for the duration of the party.
6. We did do shots, but they consisted of specialty vodka and Godiva liquor, and were served in fresh, hollowed-out strawberries with a dollop of whipped cream on top. Pinkies up, bitches.
7. We had designated drivers. #Responsible
8. Instead of taking sexy selfies, we showed off Instagram pics of our kids.
9. In the first round of flip cup, I accidentally flipped the cup the wrong way. When my team won, I expected a riot or the boys to start punching each other, but no one even batted an eye. Flip cup circa college times? That mess would’ve gotten someone bloodied.
10. I drunk dialed our babysitter.
and one to grow on…
11. I wanted to get pregnant after the party.
I was hurtin’ the next day and had to eat my weight in carbs and wear sunglasses to regain my equilibrium, but it was worth it.
That said, the next time we have the bright idea to live it up à la college, I will suggest a matinee or staying in, ordering pizza, and watching House Hunters on HGTV. Go big or go home, that’s my motto.
Originally published on April 18, 2013, one year and four days before we welcomed our third baby.
I love parties.
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