Growing Older, But Not Up
Yesterday as I did some serious white girl dance moves through the house, putting away folded pastel cotton turtlenecks and the hubby’s briefs while Groove is in the Heart by Deee-Lite blared from our stereo speakers I asked myself:
When am I going to grow up?
Any way, that is neither here nor there, because I have an excuse to post this smokin’ photo of an actor who is my age who may have to grow up just a little now that he is going to be a daddy.
Did you have to do a lot of growing up when you became a parent? I’ll never forget the pat explanation one of my girlfriends gave about what life was like once you became a parent. “Well it’s not like you all go out and party every weekend any more, so your life doesn’t really change that much.” In retrospect that oversimplification of life after kids seems really comical. This was also my friend who told me about the mesh panties they hand you after you have a baby, God bless her. At least she was candid about the impending state of my nether regions.
I was almost 32 when I had Miss C and I was as ready as I could possibly be. The hubby and I had been married for five years when I got pregnant. We had the mortgage, the ranch style house with a fenced-in backyard, and we shopped at Home Depot and WalMart. It was time.
I had a few years in my early 20s of going out every weekend with my roommate to see local bands, but working full-time and paying rent quickly made being responsible, and not spending all my hard earned money on overpriced drinks, appealing. Settling down and becoming a homebody happened years before I became a mother, not afterwards.
What about you? Did becoming a parent force you to “settle down?”
