Growing up or growing old

Last night, several of my mommy friends and I went out for a sushi dinner and then ended up at a neighboring restaurant for drinks and karaoke. This gave me pause to reflect on whether I am growing old.
These days, when I go out for an evening, I look at my watch constantly. I judge how late I can stay out by how much sleep I will get based on my projected time home. Since both of my children do not understand the concept of sleeping in and are EARLY risers, I rarely stay out past midnight. I need at least six hours! This calls to mind my first entry on this blog. As I kvetched about being awoken at 1 am and 3 am, I should have recalled that there were plenty of nights, in the good ole days, that not only was I awake at those hours, I was often not even home yet! Now my bedtime is no later that 11pm. Should I be having a glass of warm milk and a Geritol every night?
Last night's antics were just plain fun! But at the same time, it was inevitable that with a group of mommies, at some point the conversation gravitates towards our children. Once upon a time, an evening could be judged a success based upon how many drinks were purchased for me. Now a successful night is making it home before the baby wakes up for a feeding and having my prayers answered that the older one has not dismantled his room.
My nuclear family life is like a mobile where my orbit is around my children's. Every once in a while I upset the balance by trying to make it me-centric. I try to grab my life with both hands and make it about me-again. I go out for a mom's night out, I push going down for a nap to the last possible minute so that I can finish an appointment or talk just a little longer, or I stretch out a nap just a little longer than it really lasted just so that I have a bit more solitude. But another inevitability is that thanks to the centripetal force of family, my life will return to its natural orbit, which is a satellite to my boys' lives.
As much fun and as necessary for my sanity are my MNO's, the edge is taken off when you realize that you've missed the last hug and kiss of the day or the soft gurgles and sighs over the monitor.
So am I growing old because I just can't hang anymore or is there a remote possibility that I'm finally growing up and getting my priorities in line?


Ironically, as I write this epistle about how I love to come home and that life is SO not about me anymore, my toddler is driving my nuts by repeatedly putting his sandals on the furniture and I keep wondering just how soon can we get out of the house.