Holidays in your 20s verse holidays in your 30s.

Today is Halloween and also the first year I didn't dress up.  I strategically scheduled a mini vacation last weekend to avoid having to create a costume that is both original and just the right amount of slutty for my age. I mean, I am not 21 anymore, but I am still a woman who needs to let her inner skank out at least one night a year before it blows up on a girl's trip to Cabo...

Going the funny route is also a viable option, but I am far too tired to even attempt to think of anything clever let alone try to make it myself.  I thought about how I used to get so excited for Halloween and how I would spend weeks (if not months perfecting my costume).  The past few years I have recycled the only costume I own that someone managed to not get trashed, with the exception of this year, in which I did even less. 

I couldn't even manage to put on a pair of dollar store cat ears.

I really used to look forward to all major holidays as well, but as I have gotten older, things have changed dramatically. Mostly, I no longer need an excuse to eat or drink...

Let's start with February which harbors Valentine's Day, a day where you get showered with gifts from your loved one for merely existing. Remember being in your 20s and looking forward to all the hearts filled with chocolate and sparkly pieces of jewelry?  Being in your 30s and realizing all that chocolate will make your ass fat and that crappy necklace from the mall kiosk is not in fact a diamond ring is somehow not as fun. 

St. Patrick's Day used to be an all day drinking extravaganza beginning earlier than you currently leave for work. You even spent hours at the party store picking out the perfect amount of flare. Now-a-days  drinking a Guinness on your couch in your underwear trumps going to a crowded bar (filled with children) which reeks of vomit.  Even if your college buddies manage to drag you out, you will pull a Houdini and be asleep by the time they get kicked out of their very first bar.

Easter was once a fun day filled with baking cupcakes and decorating eggs with your roommates before going home to visit the family you so desperately missed. As you have got older, Easter means your siblings' screaming children and searching the yard for rotting chucks of egg said children left behind. If you are extra lucky, your mom will repeatedly ask you why you don't have any of your own.

The Fourth of July was always fun involving BBQs and lighting shit on fire, but since "The great firework fiasco of 2006," no one wants to come in contact with anything other than sparklers. Getting older means learning that it's all fun and games until someone loses a finger.

Thanksgiving was once two holidays: the actual food fest, and the night before.  Over the past few years you have come to realize that getting hammered on Black Wednesday only interferes with your full schedule of eating, napping, and repeating the next day.  I for one can't compromise my stomach for the eating Olympics.

Let's be honest, Christmas was once the greatest day of your life.  All you had to do was show up to get showered with presents from relatives you forgot existed while your mom made you endless amounts of cookies and hot cocoa.  Fast forward to today where your Christmas list is a mile long, and all you want to do is spend all your cash on wine to survive all the family functions you are obligated to attend. 

Finally, there is New Year's.  Remember buying the tickets, ordering a limo, and finding the perfect dress?  A night with endless possibilities...which you have come to realize is just another effing night only on this particular one you get to spend three times as much to be annoyed and hung over. Also, don't forget to make your umpteen resolution you will literally break the following day.

Stop hitting yourself. Stop hitting yourself.

Today I went to a one-year-old's birthday party.  There was no alcohol.  I sat amongst a sea of new mothers Oohing and Awing over poofy pink dresses and princess crowns. I listened to numerous conversations about breastfeeding and Diaper Genies.  Did I mention there was no alcohol?

As I sat silently watching the chaos unfold all around me, a relative asked me if I wanted to hold her newborn. I quickly replied, "No thanks, I'm good," but judging by the look on her face, you would have thought I announced my devotion to Satan. Several other people also seemed horrified by my response. I guess telling a room full of new mothers that you aren't really interested in the one thing that consumes their entire life doesn't get you picked first in gym class.

I didn't see the big deal. If she was already over holding her own baby why I was supposed to be ecstatic about her passing it off on me? What was so horrible about not wanting to hold what had been spitting up on everyone for the last hour? I'm sorry, but I just didn't see the appeal of ruining my new sweater, and I definitely didn't think it was fair that I was being treated like a red headed step child for feeling this way.

The entire roomful of women seemed befuddled by the fact that, I didn't have baby fever. Maybe I was sick that day in health class when they explained since if you possess a vagina you must have an insatiable desire to reproduce. I wonder how the women would have felt if I told them my ovaries shriveled up and died the very moment their child threw a shit fit of Veruca Salt proportions over having to wear pants. 

I'm not saying I hate children or that I may never warm up to the idea of having kids. After all, if my thoughts or opinions never changed I would still think Silverchair was the greatest band of all time. However, I can definitely confirm that at this point in my life I prefer having clean clothes and nice things.  I like to stay up late, sleep in, and nap. I enjoy taking long showers and using the bathroom without an audience. Plus, most nights I am too tired to cook myself dinner so unless a newborn wants to eat cold Chinese take out directly out of the box because I'm too lazy to empty the dishwasher, I just don't see a current situation working out.

I know I am not the only person who feels this way. I have lots of friends who have actively chosen to not have kids who are constantly being hounded about their decision. People need to remember that it is not easy, and it is not for everyone. Even my friends who have willingly dedicated themselves to parenthood still need to keep their liquor cabinets fully stocked. 

Next time you are about to give your childless friends a speech on the joys of motherhood, remember the same way you don't care for cats, some people don't care for children. Both are selfish assholes who will ruin everything you love. If you own either, you will adore them and find everything they do adorable regardless, but try to understand not everyone wants to test that theory.

If you can't even keep a plant alive, don't feel one ounce of remorse about deciding not to have children. If kids simply aren't your thing, don't have them because you feel obligated. Every person who will not be getting robbed or murdered in 18 years will thank you.

You are an asshole.

If you are a "DJ" who has never touched an actual record, you are an asshole.

If you wear Skechers, you are an asshole, and you are "shaping up"to be alone for the rest of your life.

If you have ever 100% successfully made anything on Pinterest, you are an asshole, and why can't just one of my projects, receipts, hair styles, ANYTHING look like the picture?!