This weekend I packed up the kid, my vintage-inspired white on black dress, faux pearls, and a wallet of singles to give to bartenders and I headed off to Staten [Saten?] Island for a wedding. I’d like to note that nothing in this world excites me more than free booze, free food, dancing, and passing out in a hotel bed with my husband.

Everything started off great. I pre-gamed at a friends house with uh, iced coffee and a Marlboro 27 while my husband went off to do his groomsmen duties. I showered, shaved, plucked, and squeezed into spanx, and my form fitting dress. I mentally prepped myself for an evening of finger foods, and Jameson shots but my heart wasn’t in it. While I was getting ready in my hotel room all I could think was “how awesome would it be if I could just put on my jammies, order up some Indian food, and read in this king size bed?”

My party face wasn’t very convincing. My husband was tired, the food was medicore, and all I could think about was the three novels I had waiting in my air conditioned room waiting for me. I didn’t want to dance, and I didn’t want to drink because I didn’t want to be hungover the next morning. If I was hungover I might miss the FREE breakfast they offered! And since I’m baby-free, I want to take advantage and take a nice long shower, and sneaking donuts up to our room to eat in bed.

When did I get so old? When did 25 become 52? When did the thought of drinking beers until the sun came up sound so positvely DIRTY?  When does the thought of sleep sound more enticing then dancing the night away?

Motherhood changed me and It’s not a bad thing.

I have succumbed to the fact that nothing I own belongs to just me. Even my personal sanctuary was tainted with kiddie cooties, when Dad had to put the kids in my special spa tub last night. He had no choice, as the other tubs were out of order, but that is another long and disgusting story. Grimy playground residue now decorates the non slip floor of my precious bath tub, because my husband forgot to rinse it out. Being that he took on the task of bathing all seven kids, it would have been down right bitchy to complain about the presence of spawn scum. After last night’s bath, it was quite evident that the separation of “Mom” and “Me,” is dangerously close to extinction. There is rapidly decreasing space for a “Me” in this house. As a result of last night, I’m currently trying to figure out how to install a secret spa tub in the back of the van. I tried to take measurements but the fossilized layer of fishy crackers and football equipment, kept me from being able to maneuver around. I may have to call in a professional. Once the tub installation is complete, I will be able to drive to an undisclosed location and take a relaxing soak, without fear of slipping on tear free shampoo slime and having an amputated Barbie leg inadvertently crammed up my ass…ouch!

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