|MeltdownFest 2011: |
You can see how much fun this
polar bear is having.
I was fortunate enough to be invited to the home of the lovely author of Donkeys to College*, anyway, so it's like I went to a blogging conference. Except most of the people there didn't even know what a blog was, except for DTC herself, and of course her mom. They have one of those Kathy Griffin - Maggie Griffin dynamics going on. (In all fairness, though, DTC's mom isn't guzzling wine all the time.)
DTC has an annual summer bash that is legendary. It involves food and drink and a DJ loud enough that the cops came. Given that it's been approximately 20 years since I've been at a party where police officers showed up as something other than invited guests, I found that pretty impressive.
Now, I am both a massive dork and constantly tired. Even without drinking, I don't like to drive at night. One drink and I'm pretty sure I'll crash my minivan and kill myself. Therefore, I stayed over at DTC's house, furthering my illusion that I was attending a blogging conference.
Despite my lovely time away, I am now paying the price. Not in hangover form, because despite my love of a good frodka, I just don't drink that much. No. I am paying the price in terms of my youngest son being completely pissed off and out-of-whack because I was away overnight.
This goes beyond paying the price in terms of dishes left undone in the sink and no one's hair being brushed, which I've come to expect when I'm out. I don't care about that stuff. Pretty much as long as everyone's breathing when I get home, I don't care what the hell happens because I got a night out.
Little Dude does not like a change in routine. He does not like for me to be away. He doesn't even like me to be in the bathroom with the door closed, let alone sleeping at someone else's house. Generally speaking, I think he'd prefer to sleep in my uterus every night.
In the last thirty minutes alone he has had fits because the Pork Lo Maniac wanted to watch Phineas and Ferb on Netflix out of episode order; because we were out of Sun Chips; and because last night he had to sleep in his own bed (where he always sleeps). I know: the horror ... the horror. He has also pooped three times in that time span. Awesome. Remind me to get more Pull-Ups.
I know that the amount of time to recover from vacation equals 50 percent of the time you were away. Anyone know how long it takes for a child to recover from the parent being away?
*p.s. Today's post from Donkeys to College features men in Speedos. Thong Speedos. You're welcome.