Rock of Ages...

I have recently (as in the past day or so) changed my definition of what it means to be young...

....being young means you can stay up until midnight on New Years Eve!

Something that at the age of thirty-something (higher thirties) I can no longer accomplish. How pathetic is that?

I overhead two teenage girls in the check out line at Target discussing their "like-oh-my-gosh-I-totally-can't-wait" New Years Eve plans...this was their conversation. Like, seriously:

Girl 1: "I seriously can't wait until Saturday, and...like, how perfect is it that New Years Eve is on a Saturday this year?"

Girl 2: "I know, right?!"

Girl 1: "I totally talked to Stephanie this morning and she said that she got a suite at Capital Plaza. How cool is that? I mean, how many people do you think we can fit? I think maybe we should book another room and try to get it on the same floor and then like if we have too many people in the suite we can party down the hall too. Eeek! I'm SO excited!"

Girl 2: "Totally. Book it. I mean seriously, this is going to be the best night of our lives!"

Girl 1: (flipping through Seventeen magazine) "Like seriously? They sell maternity clothes at Forever 21!"

Girl 2: "Duh, Teen Mom 2"

Did I sound like that at the age of sixteen? And hello???? Where are the parents?? Do they know that their daughters have booked a suite at the Capital Plaza Hotel? Furthermore, does the hotel know that they booked a suite for a cesspool of raging hormones???

It was overhearing that conversation that led me to reminiscing on some of my New Years Eve celebrations. It is really comical to reflect on my "Rock of Ages" so to speak...

Age sixteen: Sophomore year of high school. I was grounded (that was my life story growing up) for something I'm sure I did but tried to deny and my denial led me to an even harsher punishment. Being grounded on New Years Eve meant that I was free to babysit my little brother and my two little sisters while my parents went out to ring in the New Year. So I did what any normal (grounded) teenager with the most strict parents in the entire world would do....I snuck in the boy that I had been crushing on for the past year. Shawn...that was his name. He and his friend Jamie showed up to my parents house and I snuck them up the back staircase into my room (which at the time was in the attic, a remodeled area that was what every teen girl had ever dreamed of for her own personal space). My bestie, Nicole, was staying over with me, so she kept my siblings at bay by pushing a chair up against my bedroom door so they could not open the door and tattle on me. Of course all of that came to a head when my parents returned home after midnight and the house was a disaster, my brother and my two sisters were still awake and they immediately cried, "Betsy locked us out of her bedroom because she had people in there!" Yep...that bought me another two weeks punishment. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Age twenty-one: Dude, I was twenty-one....bars! booze! boys! .....wait....nope. I was married and pregnant. Seriously. Five months along with my oldest son Hayden. I sat swollen and hormonal on the living room couch watching Dick Clark on the television, counting down the last minute of the year. A bag of Cheetos and a glass of root beer....HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Age twenty-two: I wasn't pregnant. I was divorced. End of story. (I did have a beautiful baby boy!) HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Age twenty-five: New hubby, six months pregnant, asleep by 9 pm. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Age twenty-six: Still married (that was a big deal back then), a five year old, a six month old and....I was pregnant. Asleep by 9 pm. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Age twenty-seven: Three boys under the age of six (two were infants) and a hottie husband. Asleep by 9 pm. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

....and every year since hottie hubby and I have celebrated New Years Eve family style....TONS of junk food, sodas, movies and games with our three BEAUTIFUL boys!!

And I wouldn't trade it for any suite at any hotel....ever.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!