Anyone know where I put my sombrero??

She has hung up her hat.

There are no more parties, no more tequila shots, no more aimlessly walking the streets with a clip on nose mustache. No more whistles and "Mexican" beer. No more fun. 

Le sigh...

But hey, we all have to grow up sooner or later, right??

I think there is a healthy balance that can be maintained. So, like, instead of going out to Mill Avenue and drinking three Z'tejas margaritas ((when they always tell you that you're cut off at two, yeah...ok...wink wink)), then proceeding to embarrass yourself at Dos Gringos by attempting the macarena on the bar, stumbling home and passing out on the tile outside the hall bathroom

 ((because it's so cold, comfortable and close to the toilet)) 

 .... waking up at 4pm to realize you've been sleeping off at least one marg only to get up, call your friends and do something else that is equally disturbing and irresponsible... you maybe have a delicious chop salad with black beans and lime because, well, that's what we do. ((I'll post that recipe later))

  See? That's me. I used to be fun.

But really, I've reformed. My idea of fun is way different. And like hell I'll ask someone to watch my son so I can spend too much money on liquor and then nurse a hangover with a toddler the next day, I save those cards for the times I get to go to the dentist on a Saturday... you know, fun things like that. 

Plus, if you have ever had to deal with a toddler with a hangover, you sure as hell planned the next night of drinking out very carefully before you experienced that hell again.

"Yeah Mom, Dad, I'll pick Nolan up right before his nap. Like five minutes before his nap" And yes, it is because I too would like to sleep. But not before I hit the drive through at In and Out for a grilled cheese and fries I will not share with my son. ((Get your own!!))

Alas, that ship has sailed and it has taken my sombrero (pictured above) with it. I'm still fun, just not THAT fun.

Well....maybe I'll have a margarita.

Scratch that, I'm drinking wine. Always wine.

So anyway, young, old, sober, not, I hope you all enjoy your night celebrating Mexican heritage, commend those fallen at the Battle of Puebla and call an Uber. I'll be driving around the time you've finished your second margarita at Z'tejas and am in no mood to deal with your drunk ass. 

Until next time....

I'm not mad, just disappointed.

It's 2006 and you've snuck out of the house at midnight.

I think it's safe to say you're NOT going to a late night study group. 

You've taken out the car, had too much fun and are now faced with the age-old parent dressed in the bathrobe, dis-shoveled from exhaustion and worry standing across the garage from you as you pull in at, say, 2am.

Shit.

After a speech that includes words like "worried sick," "irresponsible," and any arrangement of *$!#'s you're left with the zinger.

"I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed"

OUCH.

You might act like it doesn't sting, but eventually the words will settle down in your not-quite-developed pre frontal cortex, pop open a diet coke and stay a while...marinating in your every day life, haunting you in your dreams.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of a dramatic personification of the phrase, but you get it. You little rebel.

As I have strode through life, I have noticed that I have become less mad at people and more disappointed. ((you were right again, MOM)) I have found that I am more disappointed in MYSELF than mad when it comes to parenting and trying to function with the early onset dementia my child has eagerly introduced me to.

I find myself disappointed in my friends without kids who bail on plans for really no reason at all. I had some fellow mommies send me a video that can be seen HERE that is a perfect representation of the frustration, time, and planning that goes into catching up with people who aren't really in your life in the first place.

I am disappointed in people who are supposed to play a major role in my son's life but have put themselves on the sidelines to watch me juggle mom, coach, chef, student, employee and friend alone. With no help and no assistance.

I am disappointed in MYSELF when I lose my cool over terrible two tantrums that seem to plague my every day life. I snap and feel mean or cold. I don't like it when that happens but as a good friend pointed out to me, being a parent with sole custody of a child isn't the easiest thing in the world. 

All in all, I think it is easier to be mad. We can pick and choose our battles but the fights we are confronted with, the ones we don't want to deal with always end in disappointment. Anger is easy. You yell, cry, scream and it's over. You might hold on to negative feelings for a while but soon it fades. Disappointment, especially in yourself is toxic as hell. It seeps into your inner fibers, ferments and spreads through the bloodstream like an infectious disease. 

Next time I feel the fire ignited inside I will simply push it aside. Some fights are best left alone. The house can stay dirty, the phone might not ring, people might come and go and this is all okay because this is what life is about. Learning about who matters, what drives us and when we can rise above the madness and just be ourselves, disappointment and all.