I was lucky enough this week to have two girl's nights out in a row. This is a rare occasion and I was excited. The first night was wine in the park. Awesome. The second night was a baseball game, which included beer and 2-for-1 margaritas. Let's just say that two nights in a row of being out til midnight and having some beverages kinda did me in. I was not doing well yesterday. Which is funny because my good friend RB (yes, RB of the Way Too Deep Rudolf conversation) just so happened to pop up on my Facebook chat and wanted to talk Parenting Hangovers.
Now, before you see our conversation, I want to point out that this is NOT an ordinary occurrence. It's just that every once in a while, we just need to have one of those nights. Also, we are not lushes. We just like beer.
Daisy: Hello. Apparently no one gave my kids the memo about mommy's head pounding today. I am listening to them jump around on the couches and I don't even have the energy to care.
RB: woof - hurtin' today, mama?
Daisy: Yes. Two mom's nights out in a row. I ain't as young as I used to be. Depressing, huh?
RB: Yes. Amazing what we were capable of 15 years ago.
Daisy: I know, right? How did we used to do this every single night? Oh. Right. We didn't have kids. Or real responsibilities. So, when was your last parenting hangover day?
RB: The most recent one was Father's Day - but one of the worst happened about a year ago.
Daisy: Let's hear it.
RB: We were living with the in-laws while we were waiting for our house in the city to sell. It was the wife, the kids, the dog and myself. And my 25-year-old brother-in-law was living their, too. He and I decide to go out and we end up at a bar where you drink extremely heavy beer out of a glass boot. And it's not like you're sippin'. The rule is that you drink from the boot then pass it to the next person. Then they repeat and you continue until it's gone.
Daisy: Wow. Places like that really exist?
RB: Oh yes. So, there are five 25-26-year-olds and me. And they are the Michael Phelps's of drinking from glass cowboy boots. So, after 6-7 of those boots, things get a little out of control and my brother-in-law decides he is walking home. In Omaha, in February, 127 blocks.
Daisy: Sounds like he was making smart decisions that evening.
RB: I finally convince him to ride home in a cab with me. On the way home we asked the driver to pull into taco bell. Not only did he do that, but he turned off the meter while we were waiting in line! I told him, "Junior, get yourself whatever you want." So, he drops us off at home and we become CIA ninjas walking up the driveway, trying to be quiet so as not to wake up my in-laws or family. It was 2:45 in the morning. The SECOND we step onto the driveway, my father-in-law turns on teh porch light. My brother-in-law tosses the Taco Bell bag into the bushes like it is a bag of weed for some unknown reason. I try to play it straight with my father-in-law, but he knows. Pretty sure my answer to "are you guys all right?" was "giraffe bathroom stapler turnstile."
RB: I stumble into the bedroom and I am immediately reminded that my wife is leaving for work at 4:45 in the morning. Or, really, in just about 90 minutes. My son, Bad News, bless his soul, woke up his daddy about 75 minutes later. Then my daughter, Raven, comes in and asks, "Can we eat breakfast in bed with you?" Ummm, YES! Turn on Dora! Turn on Diego! Take the keys and drive to Lego-Land. Just leave Daddy alone. So, the worst part is a few hours later. My mother-in-law, who I love dearly, comes downstairs and gives me the most smug smile ever. And asks at (approximately) 392 decibels, "HOW YA FEELIN' DAD?" Kill me. Hungover, single dad, and my mother-in-law is mocking me.
Daisy: Ouch. My worst was when I had Mario. He was about 4 years old. I went out with a group of friends and there was much wine to be had. Then cosmos. Which I thought were shots, but that is beside the point. I get home around 2:30 in the morning. Bowser gets up at 6 to go into work and of course Mario is up bright and early, too. I stumbled downstairs, got a sippy full of milk for Mario and a giant bowl of dry cereal. I turned on the tv and dozed off and on all day. Lucky for me, Mario was a pretty mellow little guy and was just happy that I was letting him eat in my bed and watch tv. I'm pretty sure I only left the bed to get food for Mario and to get sick. I'm also pretty sure we were right there in the exact same place when Bowser got home from work that evening.
RB: Wow. There was also a time on Mother's Day, after a BBQ, that I had to take care of Raven. Let's just say there was a lot of explosive poo involved. And since she's the first baby, I still had "first time parents syndrome." OH MY GOD! THERE'S DIRT/POOP/SOME FOREIGN SUBSTANCE ON MY BABY. This does not mix well with a hangover. Of course, now I am experienced enough in parenting that she could be covered in bags of flaming poo and I wouldn't give it a second thought.
Daisy: I vaguely remember those first time parenting days. And, no, they most certainly do not mix. I think they should create some kind of Nanny website that parents can call when they have had a rough night. You know, an emergency nanny that will take care of the kids and clean the house so you can sleep it off. I'd pay good money for that.
RB: It's amazing what I am willing to concede when I am hungover.
Daisy: Yeah. My kids get to do pretty much whatever they want when mommy is "under the weather."
For instance, this morning I gave them popsicles for breakfast. It just seemed easier that pouring them all bowls of cereal. Now they are quiet and happy. It's really win-win for all of us.
RB: I don't see a downside myself. It's not like kids cereals are much better nutrtion-wise than popsicles anyway. Memo to self: buy a gross of popsicles for freezer.
Daisy: ...sigh... And now my Goombas are asking me to feed them and stuff, so I guess I better go. I don't think another round of popsicles is a great idea. Tempting, yes, but probably not a good thing.
RB: You don't think Child Services will read this, do you?
Daisy: Let's hope not!
So, there you have it. A peek into the lives of parents that sometimes forget they are parents and go a little wild. Rest assured, as I said before, this is not a common occurrence. Although, really, how bad are popsicles for breakfast every once in a while?
Cheers!~Daisy (and RB!)