The Importance of Being Silly

I used to be so much fun. Like legit life of the party fun. I was a little crazy. Mischief was my middle name. You didn’t have to dare me to do anything because I was always up for an adventure. Then I became a mom. Sigh.

You know it wasn’t just the kids. To be fair the slow creep of professionalism and responsibility started shortly after college graduation. After graduation I yearned to be taken seriously so I let go of my more out there behavior. Bosses really hate it when you show up to work hung over. Wearing two different shoes. They might look the other way once if you’re lucky but that doesn’t rocket you to the top of the list for promotion.

Then I got the promotion. Which led to things like clients depending on me, co-workers depending on me, more money, more stuff, mortgages, car payments. And then before I knew it I had a husband and kids. I was a big baller. I was a working mother. I had made it. And I’m grateful. Mostly grateful I didn’t end up dead or in jail because let’s be clear I did things in my misspent youth that could have resulted in one, the other, or both. But sometimes I miss that carefree and outrageous girl I used to be.

So I let her out this weekend. And it was fan-freaking-tastic. It was accidental, unplanned and involved wine–like most of the best things in life. We went to a friend’s cabin for the weekend and our last night there turned into a girl’s dance party/ karaoke session on the back patio listening to eighties music. We made it past my ten o’clock bedtime. We blasted tunes and sang at the top of our lungs until I thought for sure the cops would be showing up. We danced and laughed until I was certain my bladder, having been ravaged by delivering two children, was going to give out. It was epic.

And though I woke up feeling each and every one of my forty-two years I woke up with a big fat smile on my face. I’ve been giggling out loud to myself all morning long. I’ve found my children charming rather than frustrating. My husband has been reminding me why I fell in love with him in the first place. Because every once in a while letting you silly out is good for the soul.

For laughter and inspiration read my blog NicoleCorning.com and my book The Working Mommy’s Manual, available on Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Working-Mommys-Manual-Nicole-Corning/dp/0615637418/ref=cm_sw_em_r_dp_6ZRcqb0QFT7P8_tt