The morning following a bachelorette party, birthday party, or late night with NickMom typically goes like this.
“Pitter patter. Door knob jiggle.”
No, for the love of… no. This isn’t happening right now. Surely his dad will grab him before he gets to me and I have to start my mom duties.
And then “Maaaammmmaaa!” pierces through the stale booze smell seeping from my pores. Son of a… already? Whhhhhyy meeee? Why did I let his dad sow the garden 4 times in a row 2.5 years ago? Why did we insist on tilting my hips up to preserve every single swimmer during my first post-wedding ovulation? Why did I stop taking my birth control so soon?
These are the questions I ask myself as the not so tiny human crawls into bed and sits on my chest with his urine soaked pants. Awesome. As I attempt to open my makeup crusted eyelids and ignore the jackhammer in my skull, I realize Michael didn’t take advantage of my weekly grooming! I bathed sans toddler, with my contacts in, which resulted in a furry tub and he didn’t capitalize on the clean playing field! I was shocked!
Maybe he digs the shaving job that comes from my typical rubber ducky up my tush, shaving positions that make contortionists jealous, and the hair patches missed from blind shaving? I can’t say I’m complaining because my Wookie lifestyle is a whole helluva lot easier to maintain than the diva grooming!
Let me bring you up to speed on my friend role. I am the mother freaking lush, bad influence, pays for everything if that means everyone gets drizunk. I am the resident party animal. I am the bride who made her bachelorette party guests go without their trusty over the shoulder boulder holders because, “WOOOOOTTT! We are drinking. We are bachelorette party-ing it up rockstar style!”
I blame my drastic switch between introvert to party animal on talking to a toddler all day. The most adult conversation I have with my toddler is when I tell him to go wash his balls. Yep. We skipped the ABCs and went straight to high school grooming because monkey butt is no bueno.
But enough about genitalia and my inability to be the DD, let’s talk about the first wedding in my circle of cronies and the lack of bachelorette party. No joke. I didn’t get to throw an engagement party, a bachelorette party, a wedding shower, plan a wedding… nadda. I felt so robbed that I didn’t get to play the panty game and get Jenae schwasted, so I planned a post-wedding bachelorette party at my house.
You see, Nick Jr. turns into a lonely mom’s entertainment because, let’s face it, we’ve all found ourselves watching Nick Jr. after the little people hit the hay. Thankfully the mind control ends at 10pm and shows like Instant Mom, Parental Discretion, and NickMom Night Out come on. NickMom Night Out is straight up legit, and a show you need to equip yourself with a panty liner before turning on because those comedians will have you spewing your wine out as soon as it dances on your tongue. And then there is Tia Mowry-Hardrict on Instant Mom, she’s helping me feel like a super mom every night at 10pm. It’s an all around good time.
Now, you didn’t think because it was a house party I would skip on the details, did you? I put these bad boys together in my sleep because, yanno, that’s how I roll. I throw parties so people don’t notice my poor hygiene. I am the master of distraction. Mwahaha!
But… yeah… party favors. (This hangover is killing my workflow.)
What’s funny is that a newlywed would giggle cute little schoolgirl giggles at the thought of getting nailed for a lifetime. Too bad you swap your jackrabbit for a youknowwhat block when you get knocked up. Or you buy a jackrabbit for the nights mommy and daddy are too tired to brown chicken, brown cow it up… or… yeah. Wow. I went there and it felt soo good.
Maybe I’m mistaking my hangover for a wine buzz?
Real talk: Just because we are hanging out watching NickMom doesn’t mean we can’t’ get CA-RA-ZEEE to the point of needing a hangover kit. Don’t forget who the hostess is, and what said hostess’ goal is during the bachelorette party.
Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Everybody!
For the record, my hangover kits also included a toothbrush and toothpaste but my teeth brushing obsessed toddler jacked them and hid them pretty good. Although… my family room resembles a tornado’s path of destruction so I’m sure they are hidden in plain sight.
Go forth and embrace your newfound house party entertainment knowledge!