Monday's are the crulest invention.....

I’m back. And none the happier for it, I’ll assure you. We had the most amazing vacation, and I was truly heartbroken last night before returning to work today. Picture – an un-showered me, half a bottle of a southern vineyard’s finest white, and the whole evening on the couch watching Lifetime movies and sniveling. Unattractive and a bit trashy, yes, but perfectly acceptable given the circumstances I think. BabyDaddy pointed out that I looked like a puppy someone had just beat the royal crap out of. (Leave it to him to come up with such a touching analogy.) Thankfully, he had some kind of dead animal to play with in the garage, (which he has turned into his taxidermy Man Cave – complete with neon bar signs and my deep freeze filled with frozen animal parts) so after putting the bebe’ to sleep, I was left to my own devices most of the night. Fine by me. I looked at our vacation pictures and cried, thought about going back to work, cried some more, looked at my little bottle of beach sand I brought home, wiped some snot, etc.etc. Somehow, I pulled myself together enough to form coherent thoughts and made it in to work today. I had 132 emails to answer, 14 phone messages to return, and no end in sight. Thank God Ames rescued me for a late lunch, and the afternoon went by relatively quickly. Tomorrow, I am working late, (which means the day will feel like it lasts 346 hours instead of the normal 8) because the Muffin has a check-up tomorrow – complete with shots. I always hate those visits. I’ll post his 18 month letter soon.

As for our vacation, did I say it was fabulous? Completely, one hundred percent, this-close-to-perfection? I feel okay falling all over myself because I deserve it. Need I remind you about Hurricane Wilma on my Honeymoon? Or the Anniversary visit to New York and me with the world’s nastiest flu? Hmph. Like I said, I deserve it. And, I’m completely grateful for it. The Muffin gave new meaning to the phrase “party like a rock star”. He put me to shame, which is a little alarming, I think. His favorite phrases from the week were “Beasshh (“beach”) Mama! Beash NOW!” and “NO NAP!” So, what did we do? We partied like rock stars! We played, we ate, we swam, we ate again, we walked the Strip, we swam some more, ate some more, and then, usually around 11pm or 11:30pm, we collapsed. And the bebe’ was awake and raring to go through the lot of it. Did I mention I was sick when I went to work this morning? Yeah, I’m still there a little bit. I’m sure it will be a while before I’m back to normal, unfortunately for those who work near me, as I was in a near state of catatonia today. I expect to be only marginally more useful tomorrow.

Beach Read:

(Very Dark, but very Very good.)

Beach Hubby:

(Don't lie -- even though he has a farmer's tan, he's more than a little hot here.)

Beach Bebe':

Best Beach Moment:

We loved walking on the beach at night looking for shells!

Worst Beach Moment:

Not at all happy to come in the room after leaving the beach. (He rolled around crying to "go bye-bye" for a good 10 minutes every time we came in and shut the door for the night.)