My friend Tara can plan a celebration like no one else, and her very own 40th birthday was no exception, so I’m thrilled that she agreed to share her day with us! Thanks, Tara!
39-year-old women don’t sit around dreaming of their 40th birthday. When I was a bit younger, I envisioned that party as a handful of middle-aged ladies each squeezing, almost successfully, into their best version of a cocktail dress that would have fit at age 25 and heading into the night. They might end up at a club or a bar with people now almost half their age in an attempt to regain youth by partying with those who still flaunt that youth with abandon. They down one too many margaritas, mojitos, or a new drink with a new name, cheer to leaving their kids at home and fake a great time, knowing the whole time “they ain’t gettin’ any younger.”
Ladies, 40 is not the new 20. 40 is 40…unfortunately.
I found my 40th creeping up on me and I didn’t have it in me to celebrate that particular way. I wanted more to embrace the next step in life, not struggle to hold on to the last. With all of that in mind, I planned and carried out my own party without the help of my husband, bless his heart, and had a blast without him, bless his heart.
I’ve heard that if you say “bless his heart” it’s okay to make fun of him. Let me know if that truly is a thing.
Calling all middle-aged mommas!
Every friend who was able to come wore a bun on top of her head and glasses (real or fake) on the end of her nose. All met at my house and applied baby powder to “grey up” the bun.
We crammed into a 14 passenger van, since the Dial-a-Ride doesn’t make house calls after 5 p.m. It wasn’t quite the limo ride we once had on prom night, or to your best friend’s wedding. It’s not even the cab ride on your 21st birthday, thank goodness.
A 14 passenger van, with car seats freshly ripped out and cereal mashed into the floor, carried us into the grand night while we all talked about leaving our kids at home and how long it’s been since the last time we’d been out (bless our husband’s hearts).
We made it to BINGO Boulevard, ready to try our luck at 6:30 pm Jackpot Night. We spent the night getting shushed for being too loud, drinking soda instead of mixed drinks, and spending our money on BINGO cards instead of shots. We finished the evening at Granny’s Buffet and I couldn’t have been happier.
I had a blast and realized that if this is what the 40s are—being real, laughing with friends, enjoying good company—I can get ready for the 50’s and 60’s.