I'm hungover today. I thought I should just come out with it, so you don't think that I think I'm getting away with anything. Last night Preacher & Martha came to town and in honour of their arrival, we went to Ein-stein's and I drank way, way too much. Not that I didn't have fun, because I did. I had a rollicking good time, and I didn't embarrass myself like that other time I had Way Too Much To Drink. It's just that now I have to be a mommy with a hangover and that sucks both rocks and rusty nails. I am incredibly lucky that my mom is home today and has taken Blake out shopping so I can rest. I'm also incredibly lucky that my husband (a.k.a. the designated driver) was willing to get up with the baby at TEN TO FIVE A.M. (Unfortunately, this isn't an unusual consequence to the slightest deviation in Blake's night routine.) I'm a lucky girl.

So here I am. It's "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn" day, and I'm unsure if it's better to be dishonest (tell Blake that I'm 'sick') or TMI honest (does a 13-month-old really need to know that Mommy had too much beer & Jäger last night?) I'm just glad that I'm not addicted to anything more powerful than Diet Coke, because this is a pretty sucky way to live.

And the worst part is that drinking in my old bar while surrounded by tiny undergrads made me uselessly nostalgic for the days when I could just sleep it off because I was responsible for nothing and no one. I don't really want those days back (I love my family, for one thing) but I could do with the occasional morning in Selfish Young Adult Land.

Despite my hangover, the baby & I managed to make a social date with Dex & his mom this afternoon at the lovely Children's Storefront. Unlike our local Early Years Centre, the CS doesn't segregate the play area...so there's no worry that my child is either too young for the toddler toys or trespassing on the baby area. (Can you imagine? Blake is 13 months old, yet he's not allowed to play with the baby toys. Sheesh.) It was quite possibly the most relaxed I've ever been with Blake in public: everything was clean and fun and safe and I could chat or play or sit quietly as dictated by the constantly-swirling chaos of the play area. Plus, I got to bolt down a greasy KOS all-day-breakfast while Lisanne distracted Blake (who has become winsomely clingy lately). It doesn't get more undergrad than those hashbrowns. I was in heaven.

My goal for the next three weeks is to schedule as many play dates as possible. I'm going out with a whoop, not a whimper!

To return briefly to the subject of last night, I had a marvellous time in that grungy old dive. We were clearly the oldest gathering of patrons (and I had a terrible moment when I realized that one of my former students could conceivably be around to see me get totalled), but we created our happy cloud of nostalgia and pushed age away for the night. I saw people I haven't seen in a long time (i.e. the Weirdo, and to a lesser extent, Seth & the Lawyer), and we all spent rather a long time talking about our careers. Or maybe I just felt it was a long time because I have trouble talking about my professions to people. It feels kind of dishonest to tell people I'm a teacher, as I've been off for more than a year now, but at the same time telling people that I'm a mother seems incomplete and limiting. I don't think there is a word or phrase to sum up what I think of as my role in the world, but there are many elements of both those jobs jammed up in the definition.

Anyway. What matters is that I spent a delicious evening getting drunk with my old friends, as I have not been able to do in far too long. It isn't something that I want to repeat on a frequent basis, but it was awfully fun for one rare night to completely surrender to the grotty euphoria that is Monday night at Ein-stein's.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 1/11/2005 09:52:00 p.m.