That Sound You Hear Is A Glass of Wine Calling My Name

I'm afraid my pickings are slim for a posting tonight. I was hoping to pop up some cute photos of the kids, but when the evening's activities consist of playground time and a birthday party at one of those "inflatable bouncy-things" places, it's hard to come by anything that isn't a blur of activity. I'm going to post some photos anyway, but they're not even remotely good enough to consider editing. We had the typical Friday excitement of Show and Tell (what is it about Show and Tell this is like crack to kids??), plus a school injury that left Finn with a nice goose egg on the back of his head, AND a birthday party starting at 6:30 at night. Also some last minute scrambling to wrap the gift for said birthday party, which I did in the parking lot of Target about 45 minutes before the party started. In my defense, the gift was purchased well in advance. But it wasn't until last night that I realized I had absolutely NO birthday-themed wrapping paper. In a way, the forced trip to Target was lucky, as I was also able to pick up an ice pack for Finn's head wound, which he managed to sustain about 2 minutes before I came to pick him up.

This might be one of those nights where M. is more relieved than jealous not to be home. The party was a fun distraction with some lovely people I don't get to see enough of, and the kids got appropriately sweaty, red-cheeked, and sugared up. But I didn't pour them in to bed until almost 9 o'clock, and that last 30 minutes have been pretty touch and go with all the whining and crying. Mostly because Lucy managed to let go of her helium-filled balloon as soon as we got in to the house, which subsequently floated to the top of our 15-foot living room ceiling. She can't stop crying about her puuuuuuuuuuuurple ballooooooooooon (sob). Despite the 346 reassurances I have given her that Mommy will rescue the balloon TOMORROW, FTLOG. Looks like I'll be climbing a ladder tomorrow. I am not the most coordinated of people. Send help if I don't answer my phone.

And a few bonus photos from last night:

What, don't your kids sit in the tub fully clothed and prepare for war with little green soldiers?

Here's hoping our late night leads to an equally late morning - a girl can dream, right?