Happy Birthday to ME!

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Today I turn 24 years old. I’m not sure what else to say about it except, damn, I feel old. I know that 24 isn’t that old, but when your 3 month old baby is screaming in the other room, you feel much older. I think if you have a kid you should tack on 5 years to your actual age. So happy 29th to me!

In all seriousness, thanks to everyone who has supported me this past year. It was a week after my birthday last year that I found out I was pregnant, and so many people have been so great and have kept me going. You know who you are, and I love you guys.

OK, now in absolutely no seriousness, I am posting the infamous pictures from my girls-night birthday celebration. Keep in mind that my baby had been picketing my boobs the whole week and I was very much in need of a release. This came in the form of much too many drinks. After the many drinks I seemed to think it was HILARIOUS to make Mara feel as uncomfortable as possible by giving her an hour long lap dance. Didn’t realize it was making the entire bar feel uncomfortable as well. Also, I feel the need to forewarn people, my boobs are HUGE. Almost pornographic in these photos. I can blame this on the fact that all of my bras are now too small and I was wearing one of Mara’s boob-shirts because it hid my post-baby belly. Unfortunately, I didn’t really realize how much of my boobs was showing until I saw these pics. Oh geez.

Pavement

Another Link to a Site Funnier Than Mine

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“Dear Friend,

You are upset. Let me hold you. It will be so very soothing. Then we can talk together about how I am living proof that good looks last, and last forever.”

Date Night Hangover

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Trent and I finally had our first date night in a LONG time last night. We went out for a lovely al fresco dinner on the Plaza, drank a few glasses of wine, then realized that we had to be home in an hour. So what did we do? We went to a bar and drank as much as we could and then stumbled home in a very good mood.

Then today, out of guilt, I got up early with the baby and went to Baby Boot camp, a workout program for moms.

My afternoon has now been filled with several different episodes of E! True Hollywood Story. The big ones, like Saved by the Bell and Full House.

I am awsome. But very tried. And no longer in such a good mood.

Vacation Hangover

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I’m back.

And I mean that in the most “I’m back, but so out of it that I don’t really remember my name” kind of way.

I’ve spent the last week taking a baby on airplane trips and meeting my husband’s extended family and driving and, egads!, more driving and going to rehearsal dinners and weddings and seeing my little brother out at a bar (ew) and attempting not to strangle my parents when they are snotty to me and others in public and going to interviews for new jobs that I really don’t want to take because I already am raising my daughter and that is a full time job PEOPLE!

Now I am attempting to recover from all of this by laying on my couch and watching old Friends reruns and Grey’s Anatomy episodes. But I promise, as soon as the neutrons start firing again, I’ll be back to tell everyone how Trent got a dirty man arrested and how Lucy rolled over and how I am undeniably the worst-ever player of the game Catch Phrase. Wish me luck in my recovery.

In My Absence

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This week has been absolutely CRAZY (small sidenote: I’ve finally heard that Gnarls Barkley song “Crazy” and now it is replaying in my head constantly, so when you read the above sentence make sure to think of that song when you read “CRAZY.” Then you’ll have it in your head too, and I won’t feel so alone). We’ve had Parents as Teachers and full day babysitters and haircuts (oh, the haircuts) and pedicures (where a nice Vietnamese woman got up off the floor of the shop and stopped eating her chedder bites from Sonic to apply my polish) and first days of school and packing for the Peters’ Family Reunion. Lord.

We leave on Saturday to Rhode Island for the aforementioned reunion. I’m going to meet all of the members of Trent’s family that I’ve only heard about in long-winded stories. I’m nervous about flying with the little one (and possibly having to taste my breastmilk in public to show it is not a chemical agent), but it should be a good trip. After we get back, we head straight to Manhattan for a wedding in which Trent is the best man. That same day there is a wedding in Lawrence in which I am to read. So, long story short, this page will be seldomly updated, if at all, for the next week or so. But I’m sure I’ll come back with awkward stories of how Trent’s super-conservative family said something that pissed me off but I had to hold it in until my eyes popped out of my head. Or maybe a story of my parents at one of the weddings. Or maybe Lucy will have a blow out poop on the airplane and we’ll be asked to leave by an air marshall. Hopefully they’ll give us parachutes.

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