"Well, um, actually a pretty nice little Saturday, we're going to go to Home Depot. Yeah, buy some wallpaper, maybe get some flooring, stuff like that. Maybe Bed, Bath, & Beyond, I don't know, I don't know if we'll have enough time."(Bonus points if you can name that quote.)
But this weekend we passed a milestone... Eva spent her very first night away from me. When Baby Nate is born, Eva will be picked up by my ex- sister wife and spend a day or so with them while I am in the hospital. We wanted to do a dry run sleepover before the big day comes to make sure that Eva doesn't lose her shiz.
Eva is almost three years old and I have never spent a night away from her. In fact, I rarely even leave her with a sitter. It's only happened a couple times in her three years on this planet. I know lots of Moms don't mind nights away from their babies. I do. I want my little chickies in my nest. I don't need nights away from her. I need her safe and sound and near me.
Because Eva was spending the night with her best friend, we decided to do a night on the town, visiting places that she isn't welcome. I GOT to be the DD (ahem) with my monster belly. Going out sober is so much fun! (read the sarcasm).
B, my cousin, and I started at the local casino that we haven't yet visited because kids aren't allowed. That was boring so we left to head over to the local club/bar so the guys could stare at the half naked go-go dancers as I tried not to cry into my water. (Did I mention that I am a huge, fat, 8 month pregnant cow?)
(sitting at the bar staring at my reason for not drinking)We got side tracked on the way to the club and stopped in to the local VFW. It was pretty crystal clear that the old guys at the VFW hadn't seen someone under the age of 50 inside the walls of their club house in quite a while. They were so excited to shoot the shiz with my husband and cousin (who also served). They crowded around them drinking drink after drink (after drink, after drink, after drink), comparing war stories, calling each other names, and ripping each other apart for choosing to be part of the various branches of service. Between shots at the bar they played pool, listened to an 80ish year old lady play Americana songs on her harmonica, and looked at pictures from the events that they partake in. I listened and smiled.
We had a great night as evidenced by the fact that my husband is now promised to join their club, my cousin missed his flight out in the morning, and my husband had to hold in his hangover barf all Saturday long. I guess that is the upside to being 8 months pregnant. No hangovers on Saturday mornings.
I picked up my sweet Eva on Saturday morning. She excitedly told me all about her sleepover and all of the big girl things she had done. She told me she cried at night and wanted me because she was sad. She cried when I made her leave their house.
(having a tea party with her friend. yes, they are dressed in "matchy matchy")We all survived. Barely.