I’m an 80s Kentucky Kid Who Can Finally Embrace the Fanny Pack

Mom, I Can't Get a Kid's Meal - I'm 33

When you are a kid, your age is a defining part of your identity, and every birthday counts. You can't WAIT to be an adult. It's probably why every kid everywhere will be like NO MOM, I turned eleven 2.5 hours ago so I can't get a kid's meal! You have to be 10!!! I AM NOT 10 ANYMORE! I need a 12-ounce ribeye and a loaded baked potato (very loudly) when you try to pass them off as a good-for-nothin' 10-year-old CHILD when you are out-to-eat.

My best friend since 5th grade is a couple of months older than me. In the fall of our Junior year, she was carting the rest of us losers around in her convertible. Ah those four months were the longest four months of my life. I counted every day, hour, minute! Now that I'm in my Thirties, I quite literally forget how old I am. I know my birth year but I have to do the math to figure out my age. So, when I called her earlier in the week to wish her a happy birthday, I almost keeled over right then and there because she made the comment, "It's weird being 40."

Um excuse me? If you are turning 40 that means... I... am... turning... 40... in... ... ... FOUR MONTHS.

Take a breath.

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Being Alive for Thirty-Nine Years Has Taught Me a Few Things

In my 39 years (I AM NOT 40 YET), I've learned a lot about life in general and about myself.

This past Saturday, we hit up Holiday World for the last weekend that Splashin' Safari was open. Full disclosure - as a kid, HW wasn't my favorite. It meant sunburns, spinny rides, and an injury always occurred. The great split-toe incident of 1992 still haunts my dreams. Now, I know and operate within my limitations. I also use 50 SPF sunscreen (thanks Holiday World!!) so I can have fun all day without long-term effects.

Something else I've learned to embrace is the fanny pack. Back when I was a kid, fanny packs were the be-all-end-all of dorkdom. It's what classic moms and dads wore theme parking. There were no "influencers" wearing them out clubbing. The fanny pack remained burned into my brain as ultimate parental buffoonery right up there with minivans, saying the word "crotch," and rating a restaurant based on its coleslaw.

But, nearing my Forties, I really appreciate a good coleslaw that's sweet and creamy. And, can I just say that celery seeds really put a coleslaw over the top? I can't do the whole minivan thing because I need to sit up high to see but I do have three rows in my SUV so I can put on my bus driver hat whenever the opportunity presents itself. And, damn it, that fanny pack is freakin' amazing!

I bought one this summer when we scheduled our first whitewater rafting trip. I didn't want to get out on the open water without a phone because HELLO PICTURES. Ug, my momness strikes again. So, I scoured Amazon to find just the right one. It's small, flat, fits my phone, and is waterproof. It was perfect for Holiday World because let's face it - the only reason you invest in a locker is to keep your phone safe! Who gonna steal wet towels? Nobody.

Fanny Packs Aren't Just for Theme Parks!

I rock my fanny pack almost every day taking my dog for a walk. I throw my phone in to track steps, poop bags and treats for the dog, and I even go so far as to hook his leash to the belt so that I can be hands-free!

Listen, I never claimed to be a rockstar. Okay?

I am a mom who is closing in on 40. I'm okay with that. I rock a fanny pack and I gotta tell you, it just makes life easier and I'm here for that! Also, if your pants fit weird, don't think for a moment that I won't hesitate to say it. That crotch is too long! 

Okay, that's still cringy. But, who cares? I'm gonna be 40!