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    Mommy Needs a Glass of Wine and a robe

    May 11, 2008

    Oh.  My.  Gosh. 

    That’s all I should really say about last night’s Mommy Needs a Glass of Wine Event at the Winery at La Grange.  Or maybe I should start from the beginning…

    I called Melissa around 4:30 yesterday afternoon to see what the plan was.  Because if you don’t have a plan, checking for one 2 hours before a party is an excellent time to make one. 

    M:  I need to wash my hair.  And don’t be tweeting or telling the rest of the Internet that.
    K:  I wouldn’t do that (frantically tweeting it). You are fine.
    M:  You don’t know that.  I need to wash my hair.
    K:  I have a shirt for you.  We’ll just shop from our personal store in the back of my truck.  It’s not just a clean shirt, it’s a NEW shirt.

    The power of persuation, she is my super power.  Screw the hair, thirty minutes later we were on our way to drop off a chocolate fountain at someone’s wedding reception and then off to the party.  Except after we dropped it off,  she started bitching and moaning about her dirty head.  Which, people, did not look dirty to me. But I guess your head is your personal issue. I started bitching about needing coffee. 

    M:  Let’s just stop at Target and get a blow dryer. 
    K:  And we are gonna go where with that?  Are you gonna pick up a bottle of shampoo and then I’ll wash your hair in the sink at the vineyard?  “Hi, we are here for the party.  We’re just gonna go wash her hair and we’ll be RIGHT back?”

    My super power of persuasion?  Not as great as I thought it was.  Because we find ourselves in the parking lot of a shopping center.  Where there is a Hair Cuttery.

    K:  Dude.  It costs like $12 to get your hair cut at Hair Cuttery.  It has to be practically free to get your hair washed.

    The Chocolate Fountain Fairy Godmother went in to bum a clean head at HC and I went into Starbucks to get us drinks.  With her Starbucks card.  I ordered a Skinny Mocha Triple Latte for me and a Triple Latte for her.  Except I had never had a SML before and when I tasted it, it was vile.  I walked back to Hair Cuttery and handed her the Skinny Mocha.

    M:  What’s this?
    K:  You’re gonna love it. 

    It took her about 30 minutes to realize that I had ordered it for myself, reviled it and pawned it off on her.  All on her Starbuck’s card.  She realized this after she came out of Hair Cuttery with a clean, but slightly funky blow out and she had driven us 11 miles past the vineyard because we couldn’t agree on directions.  About two minutes later….

    K:  Thank God I got us triple shots.  It’s clear we are going to need them.

    There was what can only be described as a very.  pregnant.  pause.

    M:  WHAT???
    K:  What?
    M:  This is a triple shot?  Tell me this doesn’t have three shots. (pointing to her near empty coffee cup).
    K:  Hell, yeah, it does.
    M:  You didn’t get me three shots.
    K:  You need to stay awake?
    M:  I haven’t told you I have a heart arrhythmia? I wonder how my cardiologist will feel about coming to the ER tonight….

    Internet.  Am I the only person who thinks this information would have been helpful BEFORE I went into Starbuck’s? Because I am looking to have a good time and the ER does not fit into that equation. If I wanted to go to the ER, I would have just stayed home with the children for the evening.

    She was fine. Big fat baby. What’s a little heart racing? We showed up at the vineyard late but we were laughing so hard tears were streaming down our cheeks. Her friend Barb came to help us and she was the best sales person I have ever had.  And then Kimberly showed up, which meant the party had arrived.   Fellow DC Metro Mom Blogger Andrea came with her friends and I got to meet all sorts of new people (HI, ELIZABETH AND AMY!!). I drank wine, ate amazing food, scarfed down a pound of strawberries dipped in the chocolate fountain and there was an incident with a woman eating our “for sale” Mommy Needs Chocolate bars. CFFG wore the Cocktail girl robe around all night and there are rumors of pictures of her on the picnic table sporting the martini glass.

    I promise I shall never again forget my camera.  Or maybe some things are better left undocumented…

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    Mommy Needs a Cocktail goes to the West Wing

    April 23, 2008

    I have friends in low places.  Friends who are able to eat at the White House. Probably because they are also eligible for the perfect attendance award and the “Most Likely to Not Talk When It’s All Said and Done Unless There Is A Book Deal In It” award.  Me?  I’m going for the food.  Curious to know what a West Wing Grilled Cheese tastes like.  I imagine it will be made with Havarti in lieu of yellow American cheese.  The bread?  Sourdough in lieu of Wonder Bread?  I’m tempted to stop on the way and buy a camcorder.  Cause I’m sure they allow random videoing in the White House.  Can you imagine the first Mommy Needs a Cocktail vlog from the White House? Now that?  That would be friggin’ hilarious.

    I have had a bit of a wardrobe issue.  Bless her heart, The Cake Lady offered some of her clothes.  Did I mention that I never was a double zero?  No.  I went from 6X in the 5th grade to a junior’s 5.  And that was many, MANY years ago.  We didn’t even HAVE double zero when I was growing up.  Well, we did, but we called it Limited Too. So I had to pass on her gracious offer but I do find myself curious about the possibilities of wearing the latest and greatest in Mommy Needs a Cocktail wear.

    Could we just take a moment to pause while we wait for my mother’s heart to beat again?  You’d think I said I was gonna wear a crop top, cut offs and flip flops into the Oval Office.  I am sporting this hot belly ring but no need to have someone freak out in shock from seeing it and fall into the red button.

    I sent a tweet to Kimberly and she sent one back that I could wear a black tank as long as I wore pearls.  I don’t think she was serious.  Zug?  She said I should wear an “I’m blogging this” t-shirt.  But do I really need to spend my lunch break explaining what a “blog” is?  I don’t think so.  I have tomato soup to conquer.

    I’ll admit my friend was a little concerned.  It’s not that he said the actual words, “and please don’t dress like a slob,” but I felt them hanging out there somewhere.

    And what are the odds that I’ll be able to twitter?  If there is a God, and he loves me, my signal will be clear come 1:15 p.m. on Thursday.  Will be tweeting any and all lipstick marks on glasses and leaving some of my own for future DNA potential issues.  I will do my best not to get arrested.  Or thrown out.  Because that is just tacky.

    So what do you think?  What should I wear to lunch? Oh, and we need a name for a sister parenting blog for PBS Parents that rolls out in a month.  I know.  What the hell?  Who are these people and why are they giving me writing jobs?  Don’t they know who I am?  So give me fashion advice and/or your best idea for a name for a parenting blog written by three sisters for the icon of all our childhoods.  I gotta go find a right shoe.  All I keep finding is a left one.

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