The Granny Life

And here, I thought my partying days were over...

At 47, I'm tired.  Too tired to go out partying on Friday night, long over the hangover experience, far past the eating breakfast before going to bed days.  No.  That's not me anymore.  I'm a grandma.

I'm of the age that I start dozing on the couch at 8:00 pm. watching CSI (my generation's version of "Murder She Wrote") covered in blankets with only a solitary lamp lighting the room.  Darn it.  I try so hard to live the granny life, but I'm not pulling it off very well. 

I reckon most grannies aren't still raising their own kiddos; still getting up to drive a kid to school every day, still re-learning how to divide fractions (for the fourth time in my life) and signing up to chaperone field trips. 

But the biggest surprise for me, in my granny-hood years, is how late I stay up with these children.  Why do grandchildren not have bedtimes?  Athena and I stayed up and stayed up, and stayed up some more last night.  We started with The Wizard of Oz and popcorn and snuggles with Uncle Charlie.  Then Uncle Charlie disappeared back into his room and we watched Brave and Beauty and The Beast and Mickey Mouse Christmas.  We ate sweets and drank chocolate milk and had to take at least 10 bathroom breaks.  I'm telling you, it was almost as crazy as a night on the town with my pal DeLane.  You know those nights when you end up at a friend's house, everyone asleep on the couches and chairs, people snoring on the floor?  That was my night.  Athena fell asleep laying spread eagle on her back, smack on top of me on the love-seat.  I found Charlie rolled up like a burrito in a blanket on his bed, the XBox controller still gripped in his right hand. 

After I put the little party animal to bed (in my bed) and put pillows around her to make sure she wouldn't fall off, I finally crawled under the covers to sleep.  She immediately turned herself sideways in the bed and put her feet right in my stomach.  This was the sleep-dance we did all night.  Feet in my stomach, feet in my face, elbow to my nose once or twice...All the while she snored like a passed out 22 year old who stayed out too late with the wrong crowd.

At 6:30 this morning when I felt her sitting up in bed beside me, I became aware of the throbbing in my head.  I looked up at her.  She was smiling down at me, her hair all askance.  "Hi Momo!" She said. 

The bartender should have cut her off hours ago.

"Hi Athena." I said back, in my brightest granny voice.  "Let's go get waffles."

So we all got dressed and hit up the Waffle House dressed like we just got up and pulled clothes out of the hamper without the lights on.  The food was good, the kids were hilariously fun, but  I couldn't wait to get back home and go back to sleep.

Of course, I didn't go back to sleep when I got home.  I started loads of laundry and picked up toys and made beds.  Then I put in a lasagna for lunch, all the while telling myself, "I'm taking a nap today."

Here I am though, still sitting awake.  Not even CSI can put me to sleep right now.

I'm just telling y'all, don't think that life is going to slow down and give you a break once you're a grandma.  You're still going to be up all night on Saturdays, eating breakfast too early on Sundays, walking around like a zombie on Mondays.  The party never ends, it just changes into something different.  Instead of tequila shots, you'll be slamming chocolate milk until 3:00 a.m. and let me tell you, there is such a thing as a chocolate milk hangover.  It's only cured by a super sweet breakfast and lots of water and that's only if you're NOT lactose intolerant. 

I'm going to just go try to recuperate for the remainder of the day.  I gotta work tomorrow and I can't have the boss seeing me dragging in like I spent the whole weekend partying.

Enjoy your youth while you can, girls.  If you think staying out all night at 27 is rough, wait until you're home all night with a 2 year old at 47!