Remember that one time when we got really sick on Christmas and had to cancel it?
Well, yesterday at 5:20, Jack started barfing everywhere. We were really optimistic, though, despite the vat of vomit he spewed around the kitchen and bathroom. We didn't think we'd have to forego Ben's 30th birthday party bashes, so I still went to Trader Joe's and bought a shitload of party food on my way home from work. We were so happy that Jack slept until 5:20 a.m., at which time he woke up starving, chugged six ounces, and went back to sleep. Today, our lovely babysitter came over and I went for a massage and a workout (ahhhhh), and all was lovely. I came home to begin getting dressed for the dinner party we were hosting at our favorite steak place (leopard print minidress, hot pink satin evening sandals and toes painted to match). Step one in THAT process was a snack, so I strapped Jack into his high chair so he could join me and all of the sudden-- tidal wave of puke splashing all over me, him, and the freshly washed floor.
After that the details get a little fuzzy (wahhhhhhhh! I want to wear my pretty dress!!!!!!!! wahhhhhhhh!!! I got a hair cut yesterday!!!!!! wahhhhh! My nails match my shoes! My nails match my shoooooeeeesssss) and Harry woke up from his late afternoon couch nap (don't even get me started on that new trend) in the foulest mood ever. I tried to shower with Jack (because I was covered head to toe in massage oil, treadmill sweat, and vomit), but Jack DOES NOT LIKE THE SHOWER. DOES NOT LIKE. DOES NOT.
We cancelled the dinner party (apologies again to everyone, especially those of you driving in from Chicago), and then we cancelled tomorrow's family lunch party, too. So tomorrow, we'll be huddled around a birthday cake that feeds 16 shoving cake in our mouths with both fists. Unless, of course, we've all caught whatever it is that Jack has. Then I imagine we'll be violently expelling cake. Either way, I'm super excited about the frosting.
Tonight? We're going to finish Ben's birthday by drinking a bottle of Dom and playing Mario Tennis on the Wii. Also, we have some sushi, taco dip, a hummus quartet, tiny meatballs, mini tacos, itsy bitsy pita pockets, a dazzling array of crackers and chips, and chicken salad that we need to eat. And some Over the Hill plates, cups, napkins and centerpieces to use. Also yard signs. A giant number 30 for the kids to color. 30's to hang from the ceiling. A pink princess birthday tiara Harry picked out for Ben to wear. Favor bags for Harry, Jack, and their cousins. Good thing I drew the line at the personalized candy favors. Also, do I have a receipt for that crap? And oh shit, someone better cancel the party tray from the sandwich shop, or else we're going to OD on nitrites.
Happy Birthday, Ben. I guess Friday the 13th IS bad luck, huh?
At least he got to enjoy his Snuggie (yes-- it's on backwards)
Hands free to drink wine. Awesome.
Oh look-- it's Pukey McYarfsalot
Here he is crawling across the gym playroom to greet me like a little human baby puppy.
Okay. That's all for now. I'm feeling a bit queasy.