Diva and Diapers: Fun

I used to be fun. I realized this at a recent work convention for my highly mom-focused company. As is typical of many sales conferences, the company usually brings in a few random speakers that always cover off on the following topics: 1. selling more, 2. why that speaker has been awesome in their career & you haven't, and 3. why you are crazy & it's holding you back. The "crazy" speaker really hit a nerve & brought out this deep, dark secret of mine, that, surprise! I used to be fun. I shared this finding with the room of 150+ moms. They responded in laughter & then proceeded to try and get me drunk all night. No fun Karyn should have kept her "I can't hold my liquor anymore" mouth shut.

When I say I used to be fun, I mean, I used to be the life of the party, but I was fun because I wanted to be, not because it was expected. I just loved being crazy because in my daily life, I was perfect, an A student, always had my act together, paid my bills on time, totally boring stuff. But when I could let loose, I went nuts, and I really enjoyed it. I was "dance-on-tables" fun. I was "pull-your-shirt-up-over-your-head" fun (yes, mom, I was at least wearing a bra & yes, mom, I did apologize to God for my actions).

Now, I've become "you-dance-on-the-tables-&-I'll-pick-up-the-beer-cans-under-you" fun. I blame this on many things. 1. I officially became an adult (aka: bought a house, had a child, live in the burbs) and 2. Quality beauty sleep sooooo outweighs 15 glasses of wine & staying out until 2:00 in the morning. I also blame this on the fact that I had 4 months straight of morning / afternoon / evening sickness when I was pregnant, so I'd rather jump in a pile of poop than be hungover.

Please don't think that my fun only came cause I was a lush. When sober, I was way more carefree, didn't stress out if groceries needed to be bought or there was laundry to fold. I bought myself nice things, I took the time to relax, and worried so much less, hence, the lack of gray hair some 3 years ago. Why can't I, as Julia Roberts so eloquently put it, "Fly by the seat of my pants, ya know, moment to moment" (I can quote Pretty Woman / a prostitute but can't remember what I did yesterday. I may need to rethink things)? Ohhhhhhhhhhh, that's right, I pushed a baby out of my vagina, gained fat in places I didn't know existed, & now, all of the energy I used to put towards being fun goes towards feeding, loving & diapering this amazing new person in my life. It's all starting to make sense.

I guess I need to realize that fun comes in many shapes and sizes. My new fun might not be a 3 hour bike ride around Manhattan or a day at a Yankee's game, but it doesn't mean I can't have fun rolling outside in the grass with Isabel, singing "I'm a Little Teapot" as she's eating dinner or chasing her around the house till her giggles turn into hiccups. And ya know what, she thinks I'm lots of fun, so that has to count for something! I do need to take more time to smell the roses instead of the poppy diapers, but what mom doesn't. There's always going to be a push & shove between the old "fun" me and the "new" fun me and hopefully, one day, those worlds will collide once more. I only have 17 more years to really have fun with my daughter, so I better enjoy it while it lasts (and I can always look back at the pics of when I danced on tables, right?).