Oh SNAP! Not only am I posting Not Me!, but I’m posting it on a MONDAY! Yay. I win. I’ve been so busy and exhausted by the time 8:30 comes around that I just haven’t mustered the energy to post to either blog since we’ve been back. I have been crumbling under the mounting guilt from it, but here we are and let’s get started! I know this Vegas bit isn’t your typical Not Me! Monday, but we were sans children. And it was amusing.

A week ago Dr. J and I went to Las Vegas to celebrate my birthday and to celebrate the last vacation we’ll get in the next 4+ years. The flight was a riot- anyone going to Vegas must leave on the 10pm direct flight. Free cocktails- ‘nuf said. It’s a good thing that we decided to partake, though nothing could prepare us for what our hotel had in store for us. We were the last drop off on the shuttle and for good reason, as it turns out. Walking into the Circus Circus is like walking onto the set of every Jerry Springer episode ever shot. We did NOT see tiny babies (newborns & toddlers) in strollers at 2 AM (smoky casino people! CPS ANYONE???). The room was decent, but the path to the pool was NOT a dingy, smoky corridor with 6 foot celings that ended with a short trip down an elevator shaft. On our way through this freaky hellhole we did meet a nice couple that shared their pool with us at the Flamingo (they took one look at the pool at Circus Circus and checked out!).

Once we got to the Flamingo pool, we felt much more at ease. Despite what looked like Club MTV circa 1999, it was beautiful and much more our speed. Except when I went to order drinks from the pool bar. The bartender did NOT take one look at me, then one look at my ID and say “WHOA 1979?? DAAAAMMMMNNNNNN”. For those of you that think that 30 rocks, HOLLA ATCHA GIRL. Cuz this happened to me two more times while in Vegas. Made me feel like a rock star. But, we did end up getting into Tao Beach – a club in the Venetian that was amazing. I almost felt 27 again.

Ahhhhh, that’s more like it.

While in Vegas, I definitely did NOT spend most of my time pumping, trying to salvage what is left of my breastmilk for little Z. And I most definitely did not drink while pumping. Ever. (What? Hello vacation!)

So I won this trip on the radio. Nothing’s free though, is it? Turns out it was a timeshare deal- you know, the kind where they send you somewhere and throw a bunch of stuff at you so that you will sit and listen to their shpeal? This was the second time for us (suckers). Once we sat down with our designated saleslady, we told her our story. Not TWO sentences into her pitch, she did NOT set her books down and say “Wow, there’s no way you’re in a position to purchase one of these, is there?”. She then did NOT spend the next hour and a half listening to OUR story, jaw agape. We walked out of there feeling triumphant, yet sort of like, well, circus freaks. I guess it was all meant to be after all.

It was a really nice trip. We even renewed our vows and I would definitely recommend it to all you married couples out there. So sweet!

A couple of amusing things also happened in the last week since we have been home. Nothing is as great as Vegas as far as THAT goes, but having two small children on any given day, something totally off the wall is bound to happen.

We went to a fancy dinner at McCormick and Schmick’s for my mother’s birthday on Saturday. I wore a white dress. See where this is going? While squirming and fighting me off like a swarm of bees sitting like a princess on my lap, Z did NOT put one paw into my water and dump it all over me like a bimbo in a wet t-shirt contest. Then she did NOT proceed to make this face the rest of the dinner:

I’m sorry, how’s that go again, angel?


Then, yesterday while driving over to Yiayia’s for dinner, our car did NOT narrowly miss being clobbered by falling power lines at the end of our street, sending people screaming “CALL 911!!!”. The power pole snapped for no apparent reason. Right in front of our car.

And, both kids have been sick the last day or two. High fevers and generally really cranky. I brought them in to the doc today, and he did NOT take one look at them and say: “Well, good news: They both have the same thing. It’s a New York virus”. Then he did NOT get a hearty laugh and snort at the sick irony. This New York virus is called the Coxackie virus, after a burb in upstate NY. I did NOT also find this bizarrely hilarious, and proceed to tell everyone that my kids have a NY virus before we ever even moved there. Really, what are the odds???

I hope you all have a great week. I’m looking forward to posting more and I have a couple new Sing it, Sister’s to come!

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