Recently I’ve been feeling, how should I put this?
I’m not sure, as my baby brain is turning my memory into mush, but I believe this feeling has been slowly but surely been creeping up on me and now it has smacked me right in the face.
Ok, it’s not exactly smacked me in the face but I’ve come to the realisation that I’m getting old and along with that realisation is the realisation that I’m actually ok with it!
I think this weekend was the final nail in my youth coffin.
I was at my oldest friends hen do in York. I had a fantastic time. In the afternoon we had a wonderful afternoon tea at this gorgeous place by York Minster. Afternoon tea is one of my all time favourite things! At night we went for a meal and then onto a vodka bar. We had a booth so I had a seat.
I’m too old and pregnant to be stood up all night.
In all honesty I can’t remember the last time I went out out.
My evenings ‘out’ are going for tea or to our local, where I can wear my jeans and my hair scraped on top of my head or at one of our friends houses where we take the kids and drink in the garden, I can even take my slippers on these occasions. Normally places I can hear myself think and others speak. I’ve already given up heels for pretty flats, I’d rather have comfy feet, I rarely get dressed up, slap some make up on and go to a ‘club.’
As I was sat drinking my mocktail, it was like I had been transported into a parallel universe. Light years away from my comfort zone. I love to people watch and there was plenty of watching to be done. A David Attenborough narration would not have been out of place:
‘And here see the girl as she dances provocatively with her friends to grab the attention of a close by male’ (said male had a cigarette through a hole in his ear)
‘See how the youth dress, wearing impossibly high shoes to make themselves appear taller’
‘See how the young males try to act cool, sometimes dancing nearer a group of girls to attract their attention to engage them in some witty banter’
Just watching made me feel old. I had no idea what any of the music was, I was glad when we moved onto an 80s bar so I could at least sing along. Or where I would even begin to buy any of the outfits and I am literally amazed by the largeness of peoples hair and eyelashes. I’m not sure whether being up the duff made me more self conscious, I couldn’t help feeling quite out of place. You get some pretty funny looks when you’re out late and you have a massive bump, like people quite can’t believe that you are still allowed to go out and enjoy yourself.
It was at the point when I had waddled to the toilet, feeling that my feet were swollen for the 1st time this pregnancy, passing people who literally looked about 12 (one of them had a red scrunchie in), that I thought I am to old for this shit!
Don’t get me wrong I did have a really good night, but as the clock ticked on way past my bedtime, I couldn’t help thinking that I would love to be in my PJs with a nice cuppa.
I text Mr C in the morning to tell him I’d had a good night but I was tired and after next weekend (I’m out again) that I would put off going out until after the baby arrives.
It’s probably not just pregnancy, it’s your age!
I wasn’t drinking but it’s taken me the best part of this week to recover!
This morning I found myself looking for real radio in the car, I just wanted to listen to something I knew. I tuned in Smooth FM and Radio 2. I am turning into my dad, ‘cept my hair is longer and I’m a bit shorter!
I was putting some vitamin C serum on my face to try to brighten my tired mush and the munchkin asked me what it was for.
‘To make my face look younger, do you think it’s working?’ I asked
‘Yes, on your face mummy but your arms still look older!’
So it’s really official, I’m growing old and I’m going to embrace it!