First, allow me to introduce my very lovely friend Camilla.
Camilla - Internets. Internets - Camilla.
In addition to being incredibly gorgeous, Camilla is also incredibly tall. Oh, and incredibly Swedish, too. I know, right? She must have been an angel in a former life to be so blessed, which I totally believe because she is definitely angelic now.
Camilla celebrated her 30th birthday just after mine, so I insisted on dragging her out sweeping her away for an evening of Grown Up Lady Drinks and time away from our offspring.
This was my favorite beverage of the night.
Hello, Burnt Orange Martini. Delicious AND an excellent source of Vitamin C.
And these are the sassy heels I wore, because I am wearing High Heels Now.
They are mustard yellow suede. No, seriously. Am I not branching out, people?!
And this is my Sassy Face that I wore to match my sassy heels:
Okay, so that's less sassy and more sweet. Have it your way, HERE is my sassy face:
I wish I could blame my complexion on the flash, but I really am just. that. white.
So we dined on some nachos and had some drinks and then there was dessert.
We were going to take a picture of it for you, but we eated it first.
But trust me - it was lovely. And delicious.
Spending a carefree evening in the company of a friend?
Even more lovely. And delicious.
The evening was a complete success, complete with a walk from the restaurant back to Camilla's house and a designated driver for me. Camilla's husband, Russ, volunteered for that duty. Russ is from Maine and says things like "Leave yeh cah pahked at the bah and I'll give you a lift home." This is made even more awesome by the fact that when, in a few months, Camilla and Russ take their baby daughter and move to Sweden, Russ will presumably need to learn to speak some swedish. I imagine this will be comparable to the sounds I heard while taking a French class in Texas. If you don't find either of these situations hilarious, you really just don't get my sense of humor and probably need to watch more Monty Python.
Also, I'm trying not to weep over the fact that Camilla is moving back to Sweden. Did you know that Sweden pays you to have kids? And that they have awesome programs to support parents who stay home with their kids? I am now weighing the chances I could convince Big Daddy to move to Sweden.
Any-who, this fantastic evening was a lovely panacea to the wounds on my Mom-Weary heart. Not that I was weary of motherhood - don't go reading it that way. It's more that I was suddenly forced to face facts about my children growing up much faster than I am prepared to process. See, just the evening before I was faced with THIS:
DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT IS?!
So I'm okay with ME getting older. But that? That is just... just... I mean, yesterday he looked like THIS:
Hello, Baby who is NOT Milo
But Holy Hannah Montana, do you LOOK like Milo!
And now I am faced with THIS:
And .. just... Wow.
I might need another martini.
5 comments:
Oh, the first baby tooth out! My little guy turns 5 next week and he is already checking for loose teeth every few days. Considering he broke his first tooth at 4 months, we might be in for the sad shock of his aging a bit early!
Mel, LOVE your hair! You look beautiful!
If Big Daddy T won't move to Sweden with you, I totally will. I know some Swedish that will get me a fat lip if I try it on an average unsuspecting Stockholmer, but I'm trying hard to learn some Swedish that won't, and I can help you!
When people whine about Obama being a socialist, I always find myself thinking of Sweden and saying to myself, "And that's bad because...?"
Anyway, yeah. Please to record this New Englander who misplaces his arrrrs trying to wrap his tongue around the lingual nightmare that is the Swedish language. I want to hear it. And whatever you do, never say this to Camilla--it would be rude--but feel free to use it in front of the kids:
"Vad håller ni på med? Era jävla cp'n?"
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yes, that would be rude...Where did you learn your swedish :)
Anyways, I had a great time with you Mel. We should go out one more time before I leave.
I learned it from four guys in a death metal band from Stockholm, which should tell you all you need to know. They delight in teaching Americans rude things in their native tongue. I'm glad of it; it comes in handy at work when I want to say something rude but shouldn't.
I like Swedish. If I listen really closely, sometimes I can understand what they're saying. That's why I got the Swedish Rosetta Stone software and am trying to learn how to say non-rude things. De scriver! Jag sover i min sang! See? I'm getting there.
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