What I Did On My Mental Stabilization Weekend, By June Cleaver...

Hello?

Is this thing on?

zzzzzzzzzzzzzz... OH! Sorry, I dozed off there for a moment. It is hell getting old let me tell you.

Well, I am back-actually, I was back last night but my bed was calling my name and it held me captive until well over 10am this morning! Can you believe it??? 10 freakin' a.m. Wow. It was better than sex and I can say that because it has been a long time since I had sex, but an even longer time since my body was in a coma past 6:45 a.m.

Thank goodness I did not have carpool this morning and the kids have discovered how to use their thumbs so getting dressed and making breakfast is easier for them now and they were up and out of the house before I was able to stumble to the toilet and pee. Side note: if you do not have a 14 year old daughter who keeps everyone in line like a drill Sergeant, I highly recommend you getting one.

The baby must have needed the sleep too because when I woke up at 10 I ran to her room to make sure she was still alive-don't tisk your tongue at me-you know as well as I do that when you are the mother of a baby and they sleep longer than usual the first thought that goes through your head is if they are still breathing. The second thought is usually if you should take a shower before you go check on their fate or not.... because if it is true that they are not breathing, do you really want to head off to the hospital without showering? Admit it-I am not the only one who wonders these things.

Anyway-I woke her up. The little boogie was still soundly sleeping. I smiled, pointed to the Heavens and winked at God thanking Him for loving me more than most today.

But you don't want to know about my morning do you? No, you want to know about the weekend-the weekend where all of the stars were aligned and we fended off hangovers simply by the sheer luck of our heritage. I feel sorry for people who are not Irish-I mean, how else could you drink 11 or 17 beers in a night and wake up ready for more? Poor sub-heritages.

Cousin Steve picked me up Friday night (after I sat between two twin college boys on the plane-thank you Spring Break 2009!) and he may or may not have had beer in the truck that we may or may not have drank a few before we headed out. Hey... this is Chicago people-there are no police officers.

We went straight to a local favorite bar/pizza place/restaurant/smoking section/old people hang out/young people hang out/middle aged people hangout. It was GREAT!

Steffie (a life long friend and old person) came and hung with us for a while and said more curse words than I had heard her say in my entire life and I have known her since I was 9 months old. She was just happy she could light up her ciggy indoors.

We saw many friends and spent the night laughing... and drinking... and eating. Good Lord I ate more in this weekend than I have eaten in the last month and I am afraid to step on the scale today. But, everything we ate either had cheese on it or it was fried so at least when I have my heart attack I will know who to blame... my mother in law (just because).

At about 2 a.m. we headed across the street to another local favorite establishment-they only served alcohol there so I was safe from pizza bread overload. We walked into the place like we owned it... because this is MY hometown man-I was born here... We DO OWN IT! The younger crowd liked this bar so I got to hit on kids 10 years younger than me... and then tell them I was married after they bought me three drinks.

Pffft... youngsters can be so naive.

At 3 a.m. we closed the place down, stirred up some shit in the parking lot with a guy named "Tony" who had stripped his shirt off and was thumping his chest like he was George of the Jungle. "Go Home Tony" became the saying of the weekend... so along with "WTF Jimmy" we now have "Go Home Tony!"

When the crowd grew bigger we were the smart old people who left before the cops came. Those youngsters were all still there waiting to get arrested. Again, youngsters are so naive.

The party moved to Cousin Steve's garage for another 2 hours and after many drunken tip toes through the house to go to the bathroom and loudly whispering and saying things like "DON'T WAKE UP THE WIFE!" or "I'M NOT EVEN TIRED AT ALL STEVE... STEVE? WAKE UP STEVE!" by 5 a.m. I was in a twin sized bed with butterflies and princesses all over me snoring and drooling.

So, if you are wondering... I started drinking at 8 p.m. and finished at 5 a.m. The Friday tally totals:

Steve: 17 beers, 2 shots, 3 packs of second hand smoke, and no one hit on him.
June: 11 beers, 2 shots (but I spilled one before I could get it up to my mouth). 3 packs of second hand smoke, and all of Steve's friends hit on me... and a few youngsters.


I will be back later with a recap of Saturday-when we went to my Aunt's house under the rouse of visiting when all we did was camp out on her lazy boy chairs and napped for an hour and then left.

I also have photo of the famous Aunt Barb that I would like to share.

And I need to tell you about all of the meat that my vegetarian ass consumed.

When in Rome right?

But right now I have to go change a poopie diaper, get in the shower, finish the taxes, pick up the kids from school, figure out something for dinner, vacuum, do some laundry and balance the checkbook.... but you can be sure I am doing it all with a smile because my brain has been rebooted and I am back to being as pleasant as June Cleaver can possibly be, which isn't very pleasant, but let's just say I am not feeling the urge the lock myself in the bathroom and hide away from my kids any time soon.

Ahhhhh.


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