Wedding Bliss

We missed the wedding. Well, the maniacs and I did. Jose went.

Then we all went to the reception long enough for the lovely couple to register our presence and for baby Ahn (who really isn't a baby anymore) to grab the berries off the bite-sized cheese cake hors d'oeuvres, eat all the grapes trimming the brie, spit out the brie that I fed her, dance in front of the cool jazz pianist's awesome retro-y keyboard, get hot, sweaty, flushed and cranky, and smell the pot roast under the heat-lamp; namely 30 minutes.

It took the better part of Friday business hours for the nurse to pack Bo's things. She thought all she'd have to do was construct his bag, then I gave her a list of about 200 items to pack that were all Bo-medical related, and she was impressed. Like it isn't enough of a PITA to go anywhere with a pair of maniacs. WE insist on going every where with them, in spite of the 200 item checklist for Bo.

I love weddings.

Bo slept in the kids room (normal enough), Ahn slept in the master bedroom in her pack and play (she cannot be trusted, and must be confined), we slept on the lumpy pull-out (which is apparently superior to sleeping on the couch in its couch form) because we are sleep nazi's. As a parent, wife, homemaker and home owner, I let a lot of things slide. I don't cook, I barely clean and the house generally has the appearance of being ravaged by herds of feral capybara. But those kids WILL sleep undisturbed. They need to get smart enough to find paying jobs and move OUT of my house.

Every one is sleeping in (which means 9:20AM- the toddler's equivalent to sleeping till 2PM as an undergraduate). I've made a pot of coffee, updated the blog, run a load of laundry and started filling up the dishwasher. I only complain about not brushing my teeth because now I am starving, but my toothbrush is in the master bathroom. And I'm not about to wake up the tazmanian devil.

I love weddings, and now, I've discovered, I love Traverse City (because it has a disproportionately large independent bookstore for a town of its size).