The Midlife Crisis

I hope to God this isn't really my midlife crisis, or I am going to only live to be 60. So, really I hope its a third life crisis. Then I am good til 90 which sounds much better to me. I have my equivalent of donning a toupee and driving a corvette. Since I am a woman and far too poor for the car, I am rocking some pink hair extensions. OH YES! I have them and they are in a word - FABULOUS!

I think this must be how 50 year old men feel when they walk into a room with a 21 year old on their arm! Really, the confidence boost is amazing. I know some people (yes, Nicole and Homa, you two came to mind) would be totally humiliated to have such a color adorning your head, but I look in the mirror and say, "I've still got it." I am a mother of three, stay home mom, dinner cooking, house picking upping, cheesy Christmas Cookie Exchange hosting, boring t shirt and jeans wearing woman in practical footwear who officially now has some killer hair that screams "I AM MORE THAN THIS!"

Being this is pretty good, mind you, and 100 percent my choice. I chose to leave my career and stay home with kids, and because of that, the rest of the list followed. You can't wear the $119 jeans and expensive blouses and heels when you have a 4 month old puking on you every two hours. You have to cook dinner because its too expensive and totally embarrassing to take a family of five (which includes Will the restaurant industries' worst nightmare) out in public. I pick up the house because I can only trip over Dora the Explorer so many times before I want to let her explore the inside of our garbage can, thus resulting in major breakdown of said two year old. I host the cheesy Cookie Exchange in order to lure my former coworkers out to the 'burbs to hang out with me since I never see them any other time. Its all a vicious cycle. And while I love my kids and my new life (most of the time), I miss the old me. The one with the disposable income that went straight to designer jeans and impossibly high heels that killed my feet but they looked great during the torture.

Now I feel like some part of that existence is back. I am sure the PTO will mock me ruthlessly (behind my back of course... in true Momunist dictatorship fashion) and Tabbi's friends' parents may think twice before they let their daughters hang here anymore... but oh well. Sacrifices must be made for me to stay a little bit me. And for those of you just waiting to click the comment box and ask for pictures, they are coming. I will post again when Cari the wonder stylist emails me the pics.