IT was our fourth wedding anniversary yesterday and we went out for the whole day. By ourselves. AT NIGHT.
I did look around in the cinema for the lift to carry the buggy before realising that I had no buggy with me, and I did lean over and cut my husband’s steak up into bite sized pieces at dinner, but apart from that I behaved normally.
We thrun The Beast into his Nana’s and skipped off into town for a wander around the shops, an afternoon at the flicks (Insurgent, was good) and then dinner in a very adult restaurant.
There were no buggies here let me tell you, no high chairs either and the only noise was the buzz of the blender as the barman made cocktails for the table next to us. It. Was. Fucking. Bliss.
After dinner then we hopped on the Luas and went to the Point for a gig. Sting and Paul Simon were playing and as Yer Man is a huge fan it was the perfect way to end the day.
Laughing, we jostled and bumped our way onto the tram and stood closely together, delighted with ourselves. Young, free and in love, what could go wrong?
“I can’t wait for this now,” sez Yer Man. “Last time I saw Paul Simon I was only 19 and the rest of the audience were oul lads. Probably 40!”
I could almost see the thought process churning behind his eyes before he arrived, skidding, to the conclusion.
“Oh Jesus,” he gasped, horrified. “Now WE’RE forty!”
He was right. Not quite forty, but not far off.
Nervously we looked around the tram. There were some people there older than us, in their 50s and 60s, but quite a lot younger than us. Like, DECADES younger than us.
We’re no longer the youngest people at anything. We certainly weren’t the youngest at this concert. They were all there, with their hipster beards and their iPhones; drinking copiously and enjoying themselves.
The bastards.
When did that happen? When did I stop being a young wan and start being middle-aged? I know it’s all about how you feel, I know that, but seriously, to the young ones on the tram yesterday, I was middle-aged. Past it. I mean, I still type www into the address bar for God’s sake. It’s true, I’m getting old.
HOW did that happen?
Once the realisation hit me I couldn’t relax. Even though rationally I knew that being close to 40 is not old at all, I could almost physically feel myself ageing as I sat there.
Jealously I looked at the couple in front of me, barely in their twenties, cuddling and enjoying themselves. Bet she doesn’t know what it feels like to pee every time you sneeze, I thought bitterly.
I’ll bet that lad over there doesn’t obsess over keeping the grass cut and making sure the house insurance is up to date, I mused, hysterically.
Shake it off, I told myself, relax. Think about Yer Man. He’s a bit younger than you and he has a really young-looking face. A baby face actually, nobody could think he was middle-aged.
I looked over and took in his unlined smiling cherub face, his sparkling eyes, his full head of hair and felt my blood pressure start to drop.
Then I looked again.
He was Dad dancing.
That’s right, up on his feet awkwardly shaking his hips and clapping along to the music, like a drunk Dad at a wedding.
Ah Jaysis! In a way there’s a part of me that doesn’t mind getting, and certainly looking, older but I comforted myself with the knowledge that at least I have a young husband.
Not any more, apparently. At least he was enjoying himself though; shuffling away, raising his hands above his head and whooping along with the young fellas.
After the concert we slunk off home for a mug of Horlicks, before putting on our nightcaps and sliding into our separate twin beds. Well, not really. But we did go home cos we were wrecked and couldn’t face trying to beat our way to the bar in a crowded pub.
So it’s pretty official now. I’m a young wan no longer. But I suppose at least I have an oul fella to keep me company. Still crazy (about him) after all these years.
Cindy
Oh Karen!
First, Congrats. May you both have a 100 more happy years!
2nd… Dad Dancing. It happens as soon as you have kids.
I laughed all the way through this, nodding my head and agreeing with EVERYTHING. Sigh.
beatingmyselfintoadress
Seriously, Dad dancing. It’s enough to make me give up! You’d want to have seen it!
Wonderful Wagon
Happy anniversary. Middle aged doesn’t bother me but I am already stock piling the wine for my next decade. There will be snot tears shed. Many of them! The. Thoughts! of it.
beatingmyselfintoadress
Same here. I can’t even. I can’t.
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Laura Molloy
So true! We had a similar experience recently when we spent Valentines Day in town (also sans kids) and we quickly realised while enjoying some drinks in House before the Ireland V France match that we were the oldest in the place. Everyone was early 20’s, ridiculously stylish and sipping cocktails at 2pm. We too were in bed early with some hot chocolates. It’s great to spend time together as a couple though, even if it is limited to bi-annually!
beatingmyselfintoadress
Isn’t it mental? I feel like it was only three or four years ago that I was that 21 year old sipping cocktails. Reality is it was 16 years ago! SIXTEEN!
Awfully Chipper
Ah no! That’s terribly tragic. I can’t wait to go to a wedding with our kids and mortify them by taking to the dancefloor with their father.
But Sting and Paul Simon! At least you were younger than the headline acts, y’know?
lifeonhushabyefarm
Love it!! Love the Dad Dancing. We’re taking ours to a wedding in 2 weeks, can’t wait to see the utter mortification on their faces. Growing old, it’s a privilege, embarrassing our children…that’s a real joy!!
beatingmyselfintoadress
Hahhahha never thought of it like that! Seán’s not old enough yet to be mortified, but my day will come!
Fionnuala
Isn’t it awful? I am only 36, I tell myself but I have started feeling old the last year or so.
beatingmyselfintoadress
Same here Fionnuala, I’ll be 37 next birthday and can’t believe it. But it’s been 20 years since Leaving Cert like, madness.
Emma
Feck off with your dirty talk of the Leaving Cert being that long ago – it was only last year………………………………..
oneyummymummy
Hey Karen xxx your blog is very inspiring xxx I’m new to all this my self xxx good luck in the irish bloggers awards (I have voted for you) Jolene aka oneyummymummy xxx
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beatingmyselfintoadress
Thank you! Good luck to you too!
Emma
Haha! Typing www. hilarious. I do the same, never realised it kinda does make us old.
Happy anniversary
x
beatingmyselfintoadress
Thank you!
beatingmyselfintoadress
Thank you!