The Walls. They are Closing in on Me.

Who knew that birthday gift aftermath is just like Christmas gift aftermath. Our living room is a sea of ridiculously bright wrapping paper, twisty ties and various sizes of plastic and cardboard. Just seeing it this morning made me want to turn around and go back upstairs to hide under the covers. Both kids need a bath today and I'm exhausted just thinking about it. I feel old.

Throw in the fact that H is going to a networking happy hour tonight and will be home late and I just want to start imbibing the happy juice myself all before 10 a.m. I think that the fact that I know I won't be getting my weekly dose of girls night this week is making me a bit loopy. I've been asked to "take some time off from that for a while". My weekly dose of girl time/adult interaction/conversations that are not interrupted is gone. Just thinking about makes me wish for a sound proof room for me to go into so I can scream for a good ten minutes. Or just walk out the door with only my purse.

Let me ask you something Internets- How much time do you need to yourself in a week? Here I am just having written a piece about women not being angry and taking the time they need for themselves and I'm not able to do that for myself. Oh the irony.

In Which Midland, Texas Keeps Me up Late.

Am Sshleepy.

GNO = 2 a.m.

No more white wine.

Only caffiene. Somebody get me an IV.

Am no longer 22 and able to stay up late and then bounce out of bed at toddler wake up time.

Gym? Forget it. I'm in the penalty box now.

Waited up for friends plane that was delayed before it even left the ground.

So..zzzzzzzzzzzz...what?! Oh. Tired. today.

Must curl up in ball with toddler with faucet for a nose and rest. No worky today.



Check out my latest on Moms Speak Up here. Mummy's Product Reviews is giving away some fun DVDs and has great new items up (think cashmere!) to peruse. Have a great weekend readers. T.D., H and I will be here Saturday!

Restoration

Nothing restores my sense of inner peace/tranquility/countless moments of zen better than a weekend spent with the girls. This past weekend I did just that.

Restored? Yes. Tired? A wee bit. A whole day walking around my great city traveling by foot or tunnel makes for a tired Mummy but a happy contented one. Countless glasses of wine and laughs with friends while looking at some truly great art, be it street or museum worthy, is my idea of a good time. The weather was soft with just a tad of bit of crispness in it. The light had that new fall glow as we traversed the cobblestones of Georgetown. I felt younger and lighter. Prettier even despite hating my new layers.

I even got to get gussied up a bit and go out without finding a spot of mac n'cheese on my little black dress. No one cried as I blow dried my hair. I didn't have to haggle with my toddler to use my lip liner. I even woke up to an SBUX latte the next day. Did I mention that it was after 8 a.m. when I woke up? Heaven. on. earth.

The weekend was so good that even the metro ride home complete with sunshine spilling through the windows with a rather remarkable lack of protesters was pleasant. I read a whole Newsweek people! In. ONE. Sitting. No one asked me a question. I didn't have to tell the dog or T.D. to knock it off. Whatever it might be.

I got home just at the start of nap time too. Consumed a Sunday Post, watched Zodiac with H, and really got to enjoy two full days. No work. No traffic. No one asking anything of me. I will say it again. Heaven.

Oh and the best part? MY TOILET IS SEALED! IT'S FINISHED!!! Now all I need to do is paint.

The Nine- An Update

Augh. So I was feeling pretty good. I had lost 4.5 lbs in just two weeks. I was working out and eating healthy. Lots o grilled veggies and Spirutein shakes. Then I had Girls Night and had too much wine.

Wine with brownies. And Cheese Nips. Which I NEVER eat. Oh and some M&M's. Light and dark chocolate. Right, then there was that sugar cookie thrown in too. Next day hung over slightly with my knees bothering me again I skipped the gym. Did my weigh in this morning and somehow between yesterday and today I gained three pounds.

To say I'm angry would be a mild way of putting it. Angry. Annoyed. Frustrated and discouraged. I was feeling so good. I don't like to be myself up about that after all I do have one free day. ONE. That is what happens? Yeesh.

So it's back to all veggies all the time. Water galore. Spirutein is my new best friend. Somehow in between being concious and with my family and cleaning up a rehab I have to make it to the gym.

This sort of sucks. The Nine my a**

mm'shpphh Schleepy

Scene- Our house, birds just chirping early. I come downstairs for the nectar of the lost sleepers.

H:"If someone is tired today, I don't want to hear about it."

Me: Yes, Daaaad. (What I was thinking) What I really said: "I knooowww."

Girls Night in our 'hood last night. We welcomed the new neighbor and all clamored for her villa in Italy that she rents. It will be interesting to see if anyone makes it there besides the one woman is is leaving. I'm sure she'll get there. Whether or not she rents that place remains to be seen.

I drank too much. Not enough to get sufficiently silly or puke later on, but enough to have a nice dull ache behind my tired, puffy eyes. Pinto Grigio my downfall. Large bottles of Pinot Grigio are deadly.

That being said "y'all I'm tyerd!" That was me impersonating Britney Spears. Laugh. Laugh or I'll come over and hang out at your house today with my loud toddler and insane dog. I won't shower either. I'll make sure I'm still sweating from the gym as I lay all over your couches. I'll rub cheese curl stains on our furniture and walls. Then I'll open all your cabinets, rifle through your bathroom, and eat out of your fridge. I'll throw some food on the floor for the kid and the dog. Don't worry I know how to treat my family right!

Check out the new reviews and Friday Fun Finds on the review site here. Don't forget got to VOTE for me to Blog for a Year either! Link to the right!

Mwah!

No Rachel Ray's Allowed

The air is thick with humidity today. As I stepped out on the front steps this morning, somehow the concrete managed to feel damp and spongy. Thankfully my mind is clear. My outlook better today. I have possible sticks or long branches or whatever in the fires.

Thursday night. Girls Night on my block. I called my neighbor to see what the plan was an she answered on the first ring. As I said hello I realized she was already talking to someone else and saying, "I don't know about you, but this pregnant woman is done! I need a Bellini. A Leaning Bellini from Macaroni Grill!" I kept saying her name but she didn't hear me or my laughter. No, this is not some bad mother drinking on the job. She's at the end of her second pregnancy and apparently last night suffering some serious "let's just call them Braxton Hicks." In the end she couldn't get out that night so I called my next neighbor on the list.

"Sorry!" she says over the din of a crying baby, "it's just insane over here just like it is at so and so's house (the Braxton Hicks lady), it's not a good night." I hung up the phone.

It's all ok though, don't think I missed out, because I was sitting on a nice brick patio by a trickling fountain in a quiet garden sipping wine. My old neighbor, good friend, and T.D.'s guardian is in town for a few days and we were having our own girls night. It was what I had needed and missed just a tad too much. We spent hours laughing so hard we couldn't breathe (fellow Rachel Ray haters unite!), drinking wine and then comically enormous cups of coffee, noshed on good food, and just spent time catching up like we used to when our decks were connected.

The sun set and we didn't notice. The restaurant emptied and the staff cleared the tables and we still didn't notice. Finally, we realized that it was indeed pretty dark out and oh yeah, everyone else was gone. Our waitress shot us a look and we got up to leave. I breathed a sigh of relief as I dropped my friend off because suddenly my world felt much brighter. Mean Mommy had left the building.

And guess what? I get to do it all again tonight! I don't even care that I woke up with a pounding headache today (dreaded chardonnay) because the healing power that a friend can have extends pretty far.

The rose bush is saved... for now.

GNO-Old School Style

Last weekend H had his annual fantasy baseball draft. It's part of the reason I chose that weekend to head to my parents, beyond the extreme curiosity about their new place. I don't like being home when he shuffles in partly hungover and whining about all the crap food he ate all weekend. That and I always feel a bit resentful and jealous that his friends still do such things.

That brings me to the point of today. Why is it ladies that we get married, have kids and that inner fun girl just says, "I'm out." She shrivels up and dies. Unless your sister is having a bachelorette party your kicky heels don't see the light of day again until the tot takes them out of the closet themself and decides to give them a whirl. I did just get a bit Carrie Bradshaw on your ass but I don't care. Maybe it's just me, but each time H has a guys weekend it goes pretty much the same way.

Friday night is happy hour (working women might still get a chance at this), then they all crash somewhere. Saturday, hung over and still sleepy, they hang out in their shorts and scratch themselves while shooting the shit and wait for the draft to begin. The draft ensues. Wings and cheesesteaks will be involved as well as dip spit and ciggies. Though I don't see any of H's friends saying, "Hey! Pass me a ciggie would you?" After that whole sports mish mash is over they go out. They get themselves all cleaned up and they smell nice once again. They have a nice dinner out and then hit the bars. It's at this point that the whiney, five year old brat in me comes out and petulantly shouts, "I want to go too!" It didn't help that this past weekend some wives were involved in the going out on Saturday thing while I was at my parents holding a screaming in your face T.D. until 11 p.m. Bedtime? Normally 7 p.m. I was in agony.

I'm happy that H has these weekends with his friends. I think it's great that they still get together and do this. It just begs me to ask why on earth my friends don't. I still want all that! I'm not dead! I have tried on numerous occasions to set this stuff up and it always fails. We go to some chain restaurant where the mundane feeling starts to creep in. Half of us are dressed up and the other still in what we wore all week. Pooh on that. That is total crap ladies. I don't accept it anymore. We need this type of stuff, minus the nut scratching, to feel alive, know ourselves and our limits once more and yes, to feel sexy.

I'm grumbling away this morning and I don't care. I hate that the only time I ever get to go out like this is with my spouse. I miss dancing. I miss the getting ready and knowing I look good. I think most of all though I miss that side of my friends.

Long Live GNO!

Yippiee!!! It is with great pleasure that I wish to announce that I got out of the house last night!!! At long last. I'm sure some of you out there know what I mean.

I get out of the house usually everyday be it the gym, errands, or a playdate, but Girls Night Out is different. We don't talk about our kids, there is sometimes alcohol and always laughter. Geez, that sounds corny. I don't care. I got me a pedicure last night chickies!! I feel purty. I normally ban that type of thing during Avon Walk training season, however there's an exception to every rule right?

When my girlfriend called saying we were all having wine and nails last night I immediately said, "YES!" I didn't want to come home even after my toes were a pretty ruby slippers a la Dorothy shade of sparkly red. I did though. I was in a much better state of mind and mood too. I actually cuddled with H. I do not cuddle. That is not my thing. I guess a coat of fresh paint really does some good.

Even today despite the rain and promise of more snow I am still bubbly and more lighthearted. It was really just what I needed and in the nick of time. There are only so many days I can feel like Joan Crawford before I actually do start wearing shoulder padded bathrobes and forcing T.D. to eat raw steak.