Mother's Day

We spent the afternoon with Shrike's family, at her sister's  house. I took lots of photos of Peeper with people who don't know about this blog and, thus, haven't given my permission to post their photos, so here's a detail from one of them.

Then we came home and took serial naps. (Peeper napped in the car, Shrike crashed when we got home, and then I slept for a while after she got up.)

Then I asked Peeper "So, where are you taking us out to dinner?" and she said "Living room."

"Oh, so what are you cooking?"

"Cook goldfish."

We decided to go to Ruby Tuesday's - which, in our town, passes for a fancy dinner - instead.

When we got home, I was feeling icky because I'd eaten too much, including some ice cream and had, oh maybe a third to a half a glass of wine, all of which added up to my version of the post gastric bypass "dumping" syndrome, in which I'm sleepy as hell and "thumpy" (heart feels like it's beating way too hard) and feel generally yucky.

So, I went right to bed, and Peeper lay down with me for some goody (my body felt icky, but my head was clear from the bit of wine, so my milk was as well - not to mention that the tiny amount I'd had probably never put a significant amount into my milk anyway) and then she and Shrike got up to play, and she came back for goody again and wanted me to get up, but Shrike talked her into leaving me alone, and then she came back in around midnight and nursed to sleep.

Shrike says that of course she watched her and let me go to sleep, because what else would someone do unless they were a total asshole, but from where I was standing - or lying - it was the best Mother's Day present ever.

(Note - This post was written later and I faked the time stamp because, as I've already mentioned, I was asleep at 11:59 Sunday night!)