Sunday, March 8, 2009

A lot of stuff that "never happens" did

Every year during the first weekend of March, the Cliffs hotel in Shell Beach hosts an event called the World of Pinot. Tickets cost more than our car payment so we don't usually make it to the actual wine tasting events, but every year after the events on Saturday, we all meet back at our friend Jerry's beach house for ribs, macaroni salad and peach cobbler. All cooked by my mom.

At the beach house, there are usually around 30 people in various stages of complete intoxication. I was pregnant last year, so I really didn't get to enjoy myself ... although I did put down a lot of macaroni salad (real mayonnaise, people).

Two years ago, I was able to finagle a ticket to the event and go to the tasting on Saturday with Jerry, his wife Mary Ann, and my mom and a bunch of others from Bakersfield. Geoff was busy working on his master's thesis, and I had a great time with everyone.

So you can imagine how excited I was go go to the event this year: not pregnant, with baby in tow, and grandmother present to watch her while I drink excellent wines and eat ribs. You see, the men who go to the "after-party" are all winos and each one attempts to one-up the other by bring in excellent and more excellent wines -- of course, nobody tops Jerry's wines, but it's his house and he pours freely so nobody really minds.

Specifically, I do not mind at all.

I called my hairdresser yesterday morning to get a bang trim because all of a sudden my bangs were in my eyes and I looked like a wildebeast. She told me "Okay, I can do it if you get here in 50 minutes".

Her place is about 20 minutes from my house and I said "Done. I'll be there."

I realized after I hung up that I wanted to wash my hair first because -- of course -- the way she blow dries my bangs is amazing and I can never seem to do it the way she does, so I wanted to have great bangs that night and not have to restyle them later. I hurried through a shower, drove to her place, got there early, and after trimming my bangs, she said to me: "Do you want me to go ahead and blow out the rest of your hair?"

Yes. Yes I would.

She blew out my hair, flat ironed it and applied product. I looked amazing.

And, I'm sorry, did I forget to mention that she did not charge me for this? Nope. I offered to pay and she said "Oh don't worry about it". What hairdresser does that?? I love her.

So last night we drove down to the house and Phoebe immediately got hungry. So we fed her. The 2 containers of pre-made baby food I had. Then Geoff went to the store to buy more baby food. And she cried and fussed.

I thought "Is she POSSIBLY still hungry?"

Didn't want to nurse.

Didn't want to eat a cracker.

Did NOT want to be held.

And she proceeded to act that way for the next hour until cranky turned into full-fledged crying in pain.

For no discernible reason other than to prevent me from drinking wine.

We think she had gas, but whatever it was was not good.

She was so sad and would not stop crying. At all. For over an hour.

She has never done that in her life. I don't know how to comfort a crying baby! I know, I'm spoiled, but she never cries like that.

Everyone at the party (lots of grandparents there, as they are all my mom's age) was saying "Poor baby" and I like to think they meant me AND Phoebe.

She eventually got to sleep and I got to eat and it was amazing, of course.

And then this morning when Phoebe woke up, she had a cough and a sneeze so we think she has a cold -- her first ever. But we're wondering if it might be allergies because every time she coughs, she looks at us and laughs like it's funny. And she doesn't seem to mind the snot coming down her face.

She looks so pathetic and cute I just want to eat her up.

My mom stopped off at our place on her way back to Bakersfield today and we walked around the lake and got some hot dogs. At Taffy's -- the hot dog place that's been here for over a year at least and used to NEVER be open on Sundays. They are now.

I'm tired from last night and eating way too much salty food today (potato chips and dip + wine hangover = happiness).

Last night was a lot of fun -- we had good wines and good foods, but it was yet another reminder of who really is the boss around here.

Sadly, it's not me.

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