You Can Take The Mom Outta The Diaper Zone, But…

On Saturday, I got to drive up to Green Lake, Wisconsin, and take part in a beyond-terrific bachelorette party. (Okay, technically the party started the night before- in Madison, at the bars n’ such- but out of respect to The Roo, I kept my pregnant self home until the lake house part of the festivities.

And it was festive. Seriously. The gals were a great bunch, and we did all sorts of lake house-y things such as sit on a dock for hours, have a wine tasting, eat n’ eat n’ eat (until it became downright laughable how much I had consumed), play games around a table until the wee hours, and even did crafts for the upcoming wedding. (As P.J. responded to me when I said we were doing bridal crafts: “…Ah.” Why, don’t guys usually do this kinda stuff at bachelor parties?)

I was even given a ridiculously awesome king-sized bed in my own room with an attached bathroom. (At this point in the pregnancy, those gestures alone reduced me to tears.) I WAS SO EXCITED for a solo night of opulent, decadent, glorious sleep.

YAY FOR BACHELORETTE PARTIES! (And cheese curds.)

Sometimes you just need to chill with your girls, amiright?

In fact, it would rank up there as one of the best overnight/get outta Dodge/gal times I’ve had in a looong time…except for the minor fact that, as I was climbing into said king-sized bed in said solitary room (with private bathroom)…

…I realized that I was not alone and that someone was in fact in my bed…

…and that someone was very drunk…

…and mistook the edge of the mattress for a toilet (same with the floor…and part of the hallway)…

…and so my hedonistic plans of sprawling in a bed and not gettin’ up for no one were halted for about an hour…

…while I placed said drunk gal back in her bed, cleaned said pee-peed bed, cleaned said pee-peed floor (with help, oh, I had lots of help from just about every other non-drunk, non-pee-peed gal at the party) and cleaned my pajama pants because ohmyGodallthepee.

But it was fine. Because I [eventually] got to sleep. (Alone.) And it’s like that old adage: If You Must Erroneously Pee On Someone In The Middle Of The Night, It Might As Well Be A Mom. (No one has ever actually said that.)

So yes, you’re reading correctly. My oh-so rare chance to get a lot of sleep (alone) and not clean up a peed-upon mattress (and person) in the middle of the night was upended when I didn’t get a lot of sleep (alone or otherwise) because I was cleaning up a peed-upon mattress (and person) in the middle of the night.

Sigh.

But I’ll still chalk it up to a really great time away where I got to hang out with awesome ladies, talk about non-toddler things, replace all of the city air in my lungs with fresh air caught straight off the dock, and listen to British books on CD during the drive (because I am approximately 97 years old).

And when I came home to my girls and P.J.? I appreciated them so much. Because it’s good to have a lengthy drive and [most of] and evening without tending to someone and time to actually miss them the people with whom I live.

Best of all? P.J. had put new sheets on the bed.

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