When do the “Mom Pants” begin?

When do the “Mom Pants” begin?

I had this conversation with a girlfriend on Friday night. We were at a nightclub to watch our friend’s band and we noticed a group of women sitting down at a table. They all got up to dance and I said to my friend, “Will you promise to tell me if I ever start looking like a Mom?” She laughed, looking down at the dancefloor, “You mean because of those ladies with the Mom jeans, the Mom hair doing the Mom dance?

I went to the Black Eyed Peas concert last night. We had the very expensive “General Admission” tickets which meant: get to the arena two hours early to ensure a spot up front by the stage. During our 2 hour wait, we struck up a conversation with two 18 year old girls who were attending their first show. I couldn’t decide what was worse- us 30 something girls about to get trampled or these 18 year old girls who were about to get trampled. We listened to them make fun of people’s clothing choices (gee… sounds familiar) and comments like “Why do fat girls wear clothes that show all of their rolls?”. I felt complimented when they said “You don’t look 30.” I then pondered why so many girls where wearing stilettos to a concert where you’ll likely be on your feet busting a move all night long. The time finally came and we shockingly got right in without too much of a ruckus and even more shockingly, made our way easily right to the front of the stage. It wasn’t too long before we realized that we would not move from that location for the rest of the night. It started out okay- we got a beer. Had some fun people watching. Got pissed at the girl next to me who decided that everyone was somehow obligated to save her spot so she could go pee and crushed herself between us. The night began with special guest #1: LMFAO (yes, in text speak that stands for “Laughing My Fucking Ass Off”). And this is where I pondered my clothing choice… Am I wearing the Mom pants? Who are these guys? Why is the girl next to me screaming their lyrics in my ears? Why does she keep screaming “I love you”? Why are they singing about not being a whore?? I was confused. Here is a picture of them:

Ahhh sweet intermission. The pushing eased, people spread out enough to breathe again. The beer guy came back. I swear he came back just for us. I could’ve kissed him. Next up, special guest #2: Ludacris. I’m slightly a little more familiar with Luda, but not enough to be reciting all the words to his raps. Not as much shoving this round and the girl next to me wasn’t screaming AS loud. Is that weed I smell?? Yup. Nasty.

Intermission #2. The shoving begins. By the time the Black Eyed Peas even hit the stage we were shoved together like sardines. I experienced the worst assault on my personal space. However, I was excited. Seeing people THAT famous up close? It was just flipping cool. Sure, I could’ve done without the crazy bitch screaming in my ear or the even crazier loony bitch behind us (where did she COME from anyway??? She wasn’t there the whole show to that point!) who would literally leave her feet to try and jump to the stage- at one point she had her effing arms around me trying to take pictures of Fergie. I made it my personal goal to fuck up every one of her pictures for the rest of the night. Whether it was making crazy dance with my arms, purposely stepping on her toes or knocking her arm out of the way as she lunged towards the stage- I was at my wits end with her.

After it was all said and done, being up front was pretty kick ass.

Yes- that was indeed crazy bitch next to me. By the way, that beer? Ended up on me. Not only that. Pretty sure she wasn’t 21 years of age. I confess that I was super starstruck by Fergie too. By the way, she is absolutely gorgeous and just ridiculous live (yes, she was singing live and I was excited that she threw down Fergalicious and Big Girls Don’t Cry). As fun as I ended up having, I can honestly say that I will never do the General Admission seats again. Between my OCD and claustrophobia, I’m not sure I can risk it.

Anyway… long story short (ha!) it brings me back to the transition to the Mom Hair and the Mom Pants. When does this transition take place? I am 33- I’m trying to think back desperately to when my own Mom was 33 and if she was cool. Anyway- now that I am worried about somehow succumbing to the whole “mom” look, I think I will make a conscious effort to try and stay cool (but, age appropriate).

That’s me on the right- my sister-in-law on the left.

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