This here my friends is Jamey, the newest edition to my family (yep, he looks like a generic newborn but he's damn cute...except for Monday night when he wouldn't sleep from 1am-6 am and then Tommy got up for the day and I wanted to kill myself).

I will blame him for my complete lack of posting for this year as well as all of my funny disappearing...although, I'm confident that I'm actually pretty hilarious these days or I'm suffering from complete delirium due to the fact that I only sleep when both of the kids sleep, and when they sleep?? I want to party!!! And by party, I mean drink a beer and catch up on TV that I've missed...

except for Friday. Friday, John and I went out to thithwbar and to the firehouse and it was like old times. I pretended that I wasn't actually a mother of two with tons of responsibilities--which might explain why I woke up the next morning naked cuddling with a cheese curl (?), a headache of epic proportions, my iPhone in the (empty) bathtub (although it was clear that at some point I was trying to play Words With Friends drunkenly), and having Chelle come over the next evening to drop off my wallet because I had left it at the bar. Oh it was glorious...I miss being a drunk...because I am one amazing sloppy mess unlike anyone else you will ever meet. But my drunken days must come in moderation (ah irony, you bitch) and I'm back to wiping asses and tears, playing dinosaur with Tommy and trying to save Jamey from his older brother.

Next Saturday reunites me with Chelle and T for T's bachelorette party, it should be very interesting.

Oh and if you're a fan from way back when, I feel it's necessary to inform you that Derek (the reason this blog was created) is back in town,back to working at thitwbar AND living in my neighborhood with his parents temporarily. Being incredibly happy with John (I'm not just saying that because he reads this...John really is awesome, the father of my children, my soulmate and the one person who can make me laugh hysterically when I'm down), it's just a fun fact that has very little bearing on my current life.

My child is pointing to and calling for a banana, the way I used to beg bartenders not to cut me off and to just give me "one of those" (whatever was closest, I'd point to it)--which usually left me muttering incoherently into the straw of my ice water that they would give me instead.

I hate the smell, texture and taste of bananas (the last of which shouldn't count except that the kid likes to share his fucking bananas with me!!! GROSS!). Consequently my mother hated hearing stories about how I fell off a barstool and probably should've gone to the hospital for headwound sutures. I think this is cosmic payback and I'm not too happy about it. Because there are going to be worse things than bananas aren't there? Damn you weren't supposed to say yes.

Go out and get drunk kids...write love notes on coasters, propose to the person next to you, fall off your barstool. Do all the things I would be doing tonight if I didn't have this guy drooling on my shoulder.

Now that there's a smoking ban in bars/restaurants (that make over 20% of their income off of food), I've been finding myself in bars left and right...so that I can hang out with my friends. To be fair, we're mostly eating dinner and we're out of there before the serious drinkers (like I used to be) show up.

I realized that while my husband drains the assortment of beers and the rum and cokes, and my friends are downing Cosmos like there's no tomorrow, I am binging on water. Seriously, I have a problem. I drank about 6 glasses of water in two hours last night. I could've floated home. It's having a serious effect on my quality of life because I had to get up and go to the bathroom--at minimum--9 times last night. I need to get clean.

Since 2003 I've owned my own home and lived alone...and loved it. I know there are lots of people out there who don't like to be alone but I am not one of those people. It is a true testament to the fact that I love John that we've been able to co-habitate for almost a year now. I just wasn't hardwired for roommates...I like space. I like quiet. I like things my way. Basically, I'm just a bitch. That being said, I have a roommate for about three weeks. John's brother moved in with us temporarily and will be moving out at the first of the month. He's actually the best roommate I've ever had...he cooks, he cleans, he shares his spare cigarettes and he has a pretty kick ass dog. However, his timing could be better...

I came home from work yesterday and things started out great with a fun afternoon romp with John--this is something that never happens on a weekday because John doesn't get home from work until 6:45 usually Since he's on a mini-vacation, he was ready willing and able. Just as we had moved our sweaty bodies to the floor for Round Two (Ding,ding,ding), we heard from downstairs, "Hey guys...(pause. no answer from us) Guys? How do you set up the wireless signal to my computer?" It was John's brother ER. Damned, if John didn't open the door and yell down to him, trying to give essential instructions. Then, after looking at me said quickly (I think this was when he saw the demon fire in my eyes flickering), "I'll be down in a little." With that, my sweet brother in law realized what exactly was going on and scampered off to Kohl's to look at ties (keep your fingers crossed!! He went to a job fair specifically for military and former military peeps) for a little while.

While ER's timing could be better, John's idea of what's appropriate to share with my new family members also could be better...in fact, I pretty much wanted to punch him in the face. However, I don't need spousal abuse on my record and because he was three sheets to the wind, (remember, the boy's on vacation...he got liquored up as if someone was serving him drinks out a coconut) I forgave him.

We went out for Pint Night (if you get the beer that's on special, you get to keep your pint glass every time--it's a bit of a crap shoot...I don't need any NASCAR BudRacing pint glasses) with ER and his girlfriend. We got on the subject of Ocean City, MD and ER said something like, "It's like a mini Vegas...what happens in OCMD stays in OCMD!" and I nodded sagely having lived there for a summer and said glibly, "Like uh going down there to work for a summer when you first turn 21 and sleep with your 33 old boss?"(which I did). Now I left out part of the story but this story alone made ER's eyes bug out a little. However, it was nothing compared to the way his eyes bugged when John threw out fairly nonchalantly, "...and had a threesome with one of his friends." This is the point where I thought ER was going to have a heart attack but instead he said, "What?!?" with incredulity and I gave John a glare, he simply crossed his arms and said, "What? You did!" Oh jeez. Grasshopper has much to learn. Let's hope ER drank as much as John did last night and I don't have to sit and draw diagrams later...which I know I don't since Mr. ER travelled the world as a GI and I know for a fact is a wee bit (read: a lot) more worldly than I'll ever be!