Sunday was one of those days that I glanced at the clock all day long, anxiously awaiting bedtime for everyone (including myself). But first things first...
My girls' night out Thursday night was fantastic. There were 4 of us there and I didn't end up getting home until 1:30 in the morning and 6 bottles of wine later. (All of us. I didn't drink 6 bottles myself.) We laughed, we cried, we watched "Grey's Anatomy", we gossiped. Fantastic.
So Saturday night, we went to Steve's cousin's wedding reception. It was nice and the food was great. I got a nice buzz going on and left at 10:00 when it was over in a great mood. Steve's other cousin (he has like a billion of them) invited us back to his house to continue the party. Since he lives pretty much right down the street from us, we figured, what the hell.
So a bunch of us show up there. He has an amazing setup in his basement. Full-sized arcade games, dart board, stereo system, fully stocked bar, and a regulation size shuffleboard long board game. Sweet. He made me 2 HUGE (and strong) Long Island Iced Teas, and when we left a little after midnight, I was trashed. [sigh]
I woke up Sunday morning and would've sworn I was still drunk. Ugh. After a long, hot shower and a hot breakfast of bacon and eggs, I felt better. No headache, no upset stomach, etc. But dear god was I tired. I was exhausted all day. That kind of exhausted you feel when you've been up ALL NIGHT LONG with a newborn. You know, it sucks feeling like that when you're responsible for two children. Ick.
So anyway, 4:00 rolls around and it's time for the Steelers game. So we get take-out and everyone digs in. Somewhere around the middle of the second quarter, the girls wander into the living room and Steve starts playing ball with them. Ten minutes into it, I'm telling them all to knock it off because someone's going to get hurt. I'm ignored. Literally about 30 seconds later, I see Hannah's head snap back and she starts screaming. Grace had accidentally headbutted her in the face and her nose was just gushing blood. Everywhere. Shit. It's running down her face and into her open mouth. Grace is crying too because she feels bad about hurting Hannah. I'm biting my tongue not to start yelling, "I told you so!" to Steve.
After cleaning up the blood and calming her down, I decided she was OK. No hideous bumps. No weird swelling. Just blood out of one nostril that stopped pretty quickly. Thank god.
But anyway, it was one of those days. I couldn't wait until it was dark outside, both kids were sleeping, Steve had gone to bed, and I could just sit here in silence, watching TV and probably dozing on and off.
Yesterday, I realized I was actually sick. Not hung over. Killer cold, probably passed on to me by my loving mom. Ugh. I still feel like shit, but I'm making myself function fairly normally. If I lay down for too long, I end up feeling worse, so I keep trucking along, trying to do the stuff I normally do. [sigh]
Anyway, just wanted to update everyone. WWC photos later...