Old... or Not?

I'm feeling old lately.  I don't mean to be whiny; in fact, I haven't even decided yet whether feeling old is a bad thing.  So for now, it's just a fact.  One might suggest this post has been spurred by the fact that I turn 34 this month.  But I don't think 34 is old at all-- when I hear of my friends turning 34 or even older, it doesn't even faze me.  And my feeling old seems not to do with the number so much as it does have to do with a feeling. 

I was a single girl, living on my own and supporting myself fully for a few years after I got divorced from my first marriage until I moved in with J in August of 2011.  During that time, I got used to my own ways-- plopping my bag right smack in the middle of the living room floor after work,  reclining on the couch, and making dinner when I felt like it.  When I had a lot of work to do, I would drink unhealthy amounts of coffee so I could stay up later.  I'd go sit at the Coolidge Corner Panera often, comfortably recumbent in the chair next to the fireplace, and grade papers while listening to my iPOD.  On the walk home, I might stop in at one of the local shops and browse.  On the weekends (and sometimes during the week), I would enjoy cocktails with friends and sometimes spend massive amounts of money on meals out at fantastic restaurants.  Even though doctors counsel people to sleep about the same amount each night, my sleep "pattern" (or lack thereof) was all over the place-- 4 hours one night, 12 hours the next.  I didn't have anyone to answer to.  And when J and I were first dating, he lived in CT and I lived here.  I was truly on my own, and sometimes my habits and inclinations were unhealthy, but I lived the way I wanted to and I wasn't hurting anyone else.

Since we've had Mabel, everything has become, by the very nature of parenthood, scheduled.  We feed Mabel on a schedule, and her early morning wake- ups entail scheduled sleep for us too.  (This is where I am agape again at how teen parents do all this....)  We plan activities in ways that will enable naps, or at least allow for something akin to a nap.  If we go out alone, we are chained to the schedules of willing babysitters.  While my words might be painting a bleak picture, neither J nor I really minds this way of life.  I'm just trying to draw the distinction between now and back in my single days.

So, have the patterns and routines and schedules made me feel older?  Knowing that I can't really drink when I go out, unless I want to hate myself the next day when we are up early entertaining the little one, has made dinners and other adventures out with friends vastly different.  I still go--and I will ALWAYS make at least SOME time for me, my friends, and some laughs.  But living way out in the burbs-- a good 50 minutes from the city-- has made trips out with city- dwelling buddies more sparse.  Still, even this "scheduledness" doesn't seem to key into why I feel old.  Or not completely anyway.

I think my newfound feeling has more to do with being less adventurous, less risk- taking.  I'm nervous to eat poorly and get clogged up arteries.  I spend less money on whimsical things because I know the dough should go to home improvements and stuff for Mabel.  Even when Mabel isn't in the car, I still tend to drive like a nana.  I don't ever stay up late anymore-- ever.  I fear too much what the next day will be like for me.  J and I make dinner by 6pm every night.  No more lazy, do- it- when- you- feel- like- it around our house. 

I know that motherhood has changed me, because if J and I didn't have Mabel, we would probably still be driving over to JP Lick's for ice- cream at 10:30pm on a work night.  And if I hadn't met J, I would probably still be walking over to "The Coolidge" for a Monday night movie showing of "The Kids Are All Right," complete with my diet coke and buttery popcorn for one.  I'd be spending money on cabs and glasses of wine, because, well, why wouldn't I continue to enjoy life?  But it's weird how life changes without even making a real decision.  I never actively said, "No more caffeine at night."  Or "you need to be a safer driver."  It all just happened.

J and I joke a lot about how lame and super- duper boring we have become.  (One recent Sat night he went to bed at 6:45pm- no joke.)  It's easy to sort of "blame" the baby.  But Mabel never made a set of ground rules for us either.  All of this evolution of sorts just occurred.  I'm not going to close this entry with a sappy sentiment like, "I wouldn't have it any other way!"  or "Parenthood is worth it all!", because of course it is.  Duh.  Mabel is the most awesome, fabulous, fantastic, wicked cool thing to ever be bestowed on me-- goes without saying.  She has made my life more fun, goofy, and special all at the same time.  And right there lies the irony-- while my life might seem less fun, and I may feel older, I'm actually more in the thick of daily fun than I ever have been before.  People often says babies change you.  Yes, they do.  But they don't have to change who you are.  Deep down, I am the same caffeine- swigging, last- minute- grocery- buying gal I always was; I just am in a stage where I have decided to make my life easier by making some changes.   Mabel didn't force unfair change upon me; I guess I must have decided how parenting needed to be for me, and we decided as a couple how it needed to be for J and me.  I guess if we are old farts, then we are still a couple of fun ones-- just on hiatus from our original modes of fun and into a new territory for a while.