Get Happy! (Hour)

This is an advice blog.

Now that I’m 40 and a mom- my social life has become akin to ordering a custom sofa from Italy. I have a 12-16 week lead time. #designerjoke. I have different sitters I use who I like to give ample heads up to, cause I believe that treating people who help your family (nannies, sitters, house keepers, pest control man, hot pool boy, etc) is just plain ol’ good karma, so being respectful of their own schedules is something I am respectful of.

(And admittedly, washing my face before 6pm and whipping up a kick ass dinner- has proven to be more satisfying versus going to a planned event as of late…)

But- what I do give hardly any lead time for, is Friday Happy Hour. Depending on the kind of week i’m having, my nanny or sitter will not be surprised if they get the random text on Thursday or Friday, that reads: “this week has been a fuckshow and I need to drink away the drama, hey! can you babysit tomorrow night from 5 to 9?” or “i’m about to strangle my client right now, hey! can you stay a little later after work today?”. 9.5/10 times, they oblige. Bless them.

Happy Hour is an institution that I quickly learned about back in 2003, my first year living in Miami. Strangely every Friday at 2pm, people would disappear from their desks- leaving lights on their offices (to convey a sense of presence) then secretly slipping out and making a beeline to any outdoor Jimmy-Buffet-playing-rum-and-raw-bar-serving waterfront establishment to guzzle their shitty weeks away, and to celebrate this awesome place called South Florida, that we live in. In my case- my salty go to became (and stilll is) Monty’s Sunset. By 5pm, you’d be on your third, “Number 3” dancing on tables, wondering how you would get home and/or who you would go home with…Ah the good old days…

So back to my point. To you fellow moms and dads- Happy Hour is the best social event we could possibly ask for. It still leaves time for our sitters to make their own plans- because most of time, our alcoholically infused happier selves will be home by 9pm, and the kids, hopefully already asleep!

I’ve also learned that Happy Hour can be an essential part of surviving parenthood, motherhood, wifehood, LIFEhood. Something about watching the sun go down with a 5 rum drink(s) in hand just makes the craziness of life that we endure every fucking week- just go away and disappear.

See you at Monty’s.

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