Baby Ali

I’m eager to brag that this here mommy guiltlessly enjoyed two nights off IN A ROW this past weekend and got to bask in the glory of some fabulous estrogen and sassiness. Friday was a powwow with other mommy bloggers at a local watering hole. We downed Bloody Marys and beers while sharing tales of massages with perks and at what an early age little boys touch themselves. I wish I could’ve stayed out later but I’m a wimp and have to gradually build up a tolerance for the witching hours. Saturday night was Parents Night Out at W’s school so I dropped his butt off at 5 p.m. and spent a quiet hour at home getting dressed for a night on the east side. It was gloriously strange to have the place to myself without interruption. I was actually able to completely pluck both eyebrows, find a matching bra/panty combo and spend extra time deciding what to wear. People, it was glorious. I joined a girlfriend for dinner at a new restaurant complete with faux wood paneling, pleather walls and a huge Paint By Numbers horse head under pin lights. We then headed to a bar for more kibitzing. I was home with baby by 10 p.m. so, again, I have yet to get into a late night groove that doesn’t include breastfeeding or insomnia but I’m not complaining. It’s a start!

Speaking of starts, W has started coping with his frustration by using his dukes and has been taking swings at my face like a swatter after a fly. I swear I send him to a kind and gentle daycare each day, not the Mohammed Ali Boxing School for Tots. He’s also in to head butting but it’s the kind that doesn’t quite connect with its intended target. He stops short of impact. It’s more like faking whiplash and is hilarious to watch. I start laughing which probably isn’t the best way to help him deal with his dramatic moment. I’m wondering what’s going on at school though. He must be getting it from someone, some where. Must investigate.