People who have children take great pleasure in scaring the shit out of us.
I think parents secretly enjoy telling us about all of the things we'll never get to do again. In some ways, I suspect parental misery loves company. Look, I don't blame them. If one couple emerges unscathed, pre-baby life intact, it angers The Kraken. It must be like watching your cell mate bust out of Alcatraz, leaving behind nothing but a paper mache head and some woolen blankets.
Given the multitude of tips, warnings and words of wisdom I've collected, I want to make sure I'm making the most out of these next 5 months. Now at the halfway point, clock ticking down on my childless life, it's time for Yvette and I to experience our very own Amish rebellion. In order to party like its 1999, I needed to ask - and have answered - one very simple question.
What do you miss the most, now that you have kids?
This summer, Yvette and I have grand plans. In no particular order, we will be indulging in childless bliss, enjoying the simple things in life, and collectively mourning our ephemeral freedom with every passing day. Somewhere in-between a Bucket List and a Fu**it List lies my Rumspringa Naughty List.
#5 - Sleep.
This summer, I plan to sleep like a beer pong champ at a frat house. The bedroom has been properly darkened to mimic a Casino, not a crack of light showing through our curtains. The Tempest could be coming, yet we shall not stir. Sleep is something that I hear a whole lot about. The lack thereof, how it makes you crazy. The first three months are hell, get it while you can. Get it while I can? What do you mean? Can I store up slumber like a hibernating bear? At least I'll remember what it felt like to sleep. To wake with your head a little foggy and buzzing from too much sleep. To sleep, perchance, to drool. Sweet, sweet, tasty sleep. I love you. You will be missed.
#4 - Have Lots and Lots and Lots of Sex.
"Between the kids wanting to sleep in your bed and complete exhaustion, sex will be the furthest thing from your mind." - anonymous sex deprived parent. Sex will very likely be the last thing on our mind in six months, but for now, we're virile naval officers let loose on the big city for fleet week. Nuff said.
#3 - Travel
We've all had the pleasure of sitting next to a screaming child on an airplane. "Travel is hard on kids, but even tougher on the parents. Vacation isn't what it used to be." - Anonymous Vacation Deprived Parent. For this very reason, we plan to travel as much as possible within the next five months, to the most child-unfriendly destinations. Machu Picchu, Everest, The Galapagos Islands, The Amazon Rainforest, Vegas. I'll go out on a limb and include "eating out at restaurants" into the Travel category. While not traversing the globe or ziplining through Costa Rican jungle, that trek to the local eatery will zap the energy right out of you. It's a long haul, indeed.
#2 - Get Trashed.
Aside from the few micro sips of Pinot Grigio Y has allowed herself, I'm on my own with this one. At least someone will be there for me with an Emergen-C when I wake up deydrated, heart racing and hating life. I might take a puff of someone's cigarette or get a little crazy with some Mary Jane (mom, if you're reading this, I'm totally joking. I plan to smoke more than just a puff.) You know you're officially old when, even if you felt like it, you don't have any connections what-so-ever to score weed. It was so much easier in my youth to be Amishly naughty. There was college, for one, and the many waitressing jobs that followed. Right now there's a sous chef somewhere making pot brownies and showing the staff how to make creme brule with one hand, while holding a bong and a blow torch in the other. In light of getting trashed, I think I'll just eat another red velvet cupcake instead. Fewer calories.
#1 - Be Irreverently Irresponsible.
There's not much time for this, I have to act quickly, but I plan to make the most of it. Before I have to worry about how much diapers cost, or which organic baby mattress is the highest rated, I think I'll let loose a little. Zappos lets you sort your search results by price, sorting from "high to low." I need another pair of shoes like I need another thigh. The same might be said for watches. Yet in my Rumspringa summer, I will sort high to low. I will make unnecessary electronic gadgetry purchases and linger outside of the Bang & Olufsen store longer than absolutely necessary. I might throw caution to the wind and buy another watch, I might even purchase a painfully trendy hipster cruising bicycle I will likely ride twice all season. I will buy unnecessary camping gear, fit for the Himalayas, the likes of which would make even Oprah and Gayle very proud.
