I love the night life... when it involves pajamas

Being a mom has really taken my cool factor and just stomped the crap right out of it. Before I had a kid, I used to go out, drink, dance, generally live it up. These days I don't get to go out much. I used to feel kind of bitter about it, because Ryan still goes out to the bar with his buddies - and of course I'd be the one stuck at home on a Wednesday night, not eating wings and drinking beer, but changing poop-filled diapers and trying to get a cranky baby to go to sleep.

After a couple of Fridays out for bachelorette parties, I wonder how I ever LIKED going out. Because I did. I looked forward to the weekends to cut loose, live it up, and sleep in.

Sitting in a smoke-filled, disgusting, sweaty person filled bar this past Friday made me come to the realization that I truly am happiest at home, with my tornado/toddler. I'd rather be on the couch, in my pjs, watching Shrek for the 15 millionth time, in bed by 9:30, and awake and clear headed by 7:30 on a Saturday.

I guess that's why youth is fleeting. I can't imagine being single and childless at this age. Is that totally weird of me?

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