Fierce, but friendly.

A couple of weeks ago, during my unforseen blogging hiatus, I spent the weekend with three dear, old friends from college.

We are all turning 40 this year, and if you’re sick of me bringing up the fact that I’m turning 40 this year, I’m sorry. I keep bringing it up because I have a habit of living in denial. It’s my way of coming to terms with the fact that really and truly, once and for all, now and forever, I am no longer 25. Or even 30. It’s not like the lines around my eyes aren’t telling me the same thing.

Oh, hell, I might as well embrace it. Aging. Turning 40. There has to be a 40 year old me in there somewhere.

So my friends decided to get together during this momentous year of our lives, and gathered at my friend’s family lake house in Joisey. One flew in from Los Angeles. Another drove up from Virginia. We all have children. We all like to drink. We’re all free spirits beneath the mountain of responsibility we bear. And we all still like to ogle the bodies of firm, young boys under 30.

Well, at least I do.

So we dubbed the weekend “Cougarfest.” And indeed, we did have one opportunity to flex our Cougar claws, as on Sunday, a nice young boy of about 22 came by to look at the lawn as it needed mowing. But seize the moment, we did not.Ā  Instead of running our stubby fingernails up and down his hairless chest, we giggled coyly into our wine glasses like teens at a drive in ignoring the boys in the adjacent convertible.

Cougar failure.

And it got me thinking – why Cougar? I mean, the word “cougar” – a predatory cat –Ā  implies that us women are basically initiating any encounter with a younger man, which may not always be true, ladies.

I just want a little respect.

And then, when hubby started referring to the weekend as MILF weekend, that got me thinking that the other name for older women who are mommies, paints us as passive recipients of some Godawful unrequited adolescent fantasy – “Mothers I’d like to…” – conjuring visions of a perverted, acne-scarred teenage boy ogling some poor woman out of his window with a periscope as she bends over to pick up a piece of lego she’s just stepped on on her way to retrieve a burnt chicken from the oven.

And then I thought – gee whiz folks – there has got to be a better, classier term for women like us – mothers, nearing early middle age, who still have some sex drive (goddammit) and are vaguely attractive.

How ’bout SUDs (Sexy Unavailable Dames)? Too soapy? Or SOBs (Smart, older and beautiful)? I know, that doesn’t work either, for obvious reasons.

Really, I’m stumped.

Any ideas?

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