It was my 33rd birthday on Friday last. When I was 23, if anyone was 33 they were ancient, now I am 33 I still think I am only 23. However, was hit hard by this realisation on Friday night. Three out of my last five birthdays I was pregnant. Even my big 30th. So, since I’m not getting pregnant ever, ever again, I said I wanted to go out and get drunk, let my hair down and dance the night away. The last time I actually drank on a night out was in January at my eldest sister’s wedding. And oh, boy did I drink that night.
The nerves were acting up I spent the whole day of my birthday being anxious and couldn’t relax to enjoy the day with the kids. I was on edge all day stupid thoughts like what will I wear, am I too old to wear a playsuit, should I just wear flat shoes, what if none of my friends has a great time. The usual shite, but I had my rational head on and push myself to head out. Sure, I was heading out with the Karl and 3 of my oldest bestest friends, F, M and S (Not in ages because I’m the oldest by only a month, as they keep reminding me), and unfortunately, D and E couldn’t make it. My Mother-in-law said she would mind all four kids overnight with one stipulation that we stay there also, we can get up with the kids in the morning.
So, we were running late as usual dropped off the kids and decided to drive into town and park the car at Karl’s job. This was the first realisations that I’m getting old. He was going to park the car near the Quays and we had to walk to the top of Harcourt street. That’s only a 2km walk… however, I was wearing heels, new heels. Last time I wore heels was Callum’s confirmation on 4th march. These shoes were gorgeous in the pictures online, but when I got them delivered they were higher than I thought. So, I made my husband drop me to the door of the pub I walked in to meet my friends. There were balloons all over the place and when I walked in the front door, I was handed a glass of Prosecco, there was also a free barbeque. It was like the venue had an event on however we got in and they didn’t ask us any questions. Well, it was a great night. There was a saxophone player and plenty and plenty of people there. However, we needed a seat. Realisation number 2. We can no longer stand for long periods. We needed to get a comfy seat away from the speaker.
There was a mixed crowd there, lots of after work drinkers and a good few stags and hens and a group of people dressed completely as the Star Wars characters. There was a mixture of all ages mainly people in their 30’s. However, there were a good few in late teens and early 20s. Well OH MY GOD the getup on some of these. Like most them were wearing runners, back in my day you were not allowed into the local pub with a pair of runners on let alone a venue like the Harcourt hotel. The girls had really really short skirts like that short you could see their arse cheeks. There were velour tracksuits with high heels, a girl wearing a lingerie body suit like the lacey kind you get in Ann Summers, completely see thru. There was a couple wearing baggy jeans white tops and bucket hats like matching & theses two had moves that Save the Last Dance movie would be proud of. This is when I discovered that there I am actually glad I am not single at the minute there is no nice chatting you up or buying a drink anymore. The Fellas were literally pulling out of girls. Trying to grab their hands. Chivalry is well and truly gone. Not like back in my day when you were chatted up at the bar and then asked to dance. Now I’m saying my day. I was 18 since I last scored a guy in a pub, that guy been my now Husband. Well after a number of long neck Bulmer’s and a Jager Bomb… I braved the dance floor with my beautiful and wonderful friend F. We done our moves, my Knees started to ache, then so did my hips, and the pelvic floor was like a leaking tap every time I moved. Our moves were obvs not as good as the girl actually on the floor humping. Which by the way isn’t allowed in the dtwo bar the bouncer told her number of times. And even her advances towards him didn’t stop him from doing his job. After we had our last pint, well F and I did, some dope robbed Karl’s. We laughed the whole way home in the taxi only to realise it was 3.30am.
The next morning was well…. Somebody gave the kids a bell like they have in hotels. I was woken up at 9 am I only got to bed at 4. But can’t complain as was handed a lovely fry to soak up any leftover alcohol in my system. I rushed the hubby up and we had to trek into town with the four kids and two hangovers to collect the car. We got the Luas in, that moves way too much for somebody with a hangover. It was a quick visit to town as we were penniless and hungover. We managed to get home and cuddle on the couch. We are definitely going for parents of the year, opened a box of celebration chocolates that was left over from Christmas, and gave it to the kids to feast on so we wouldn’t have to get up and make them proper food. Hit the hay early that night.
The next morning, I woke up to feeling that I was just in a fight with Connor McGregor. I was in bits. I couldn’t lift my head of the pillow, but mammy duties called had to get up to four screaming kids. They were all given whatever they wanted for breakfast and a movie was put on the telly for them. However, it turned out to be such a nice day out. We went for a walk along the canal with my mam n dad and the kids. Brushed a few cobwebs off me. Today is Tuesday the 9th, Four days after heading out and my legs and body still ache… I am coming to the realisation that I am no longer a young girl…