doctor's orders

October 11, 2010

when we left the hospital with a tiny little 8.5 lb jude in tow our ancient pediatrician gave jon just one very important requirement:  he must make a special date night for me within the first 6 weeks.  why?  i don't know.  is going on one date really going to stave off postpartum depression?  probably not.  but in super-old pediatrician's eyes this was the most important task jon could possibly have.

cut to THIRTEEN fucking months later– we went on a date.

i'm not really sure why we waited so long.  part of it was that there just wasn't anything i wanted to do that badly; part of it was that we don't really have anyone available to watch the jude; and part of it was just that i didn't care.  i've sent jon out to the bar with friends a few times but i always stayed home with the sleeper.

anyway, saturday was our very first jude-less date complete with babysitting action.  a kind friend offered to watch the jude for us and we cruised out to dinner (at a pub!) and to a concert (at a bar!).  we dropped jude off an hour or so before bedtime and he quickly got busy be-bopping around their living room throwing blocks and yelling nonsense.  who needs mom and dad when you can carry a SPOON around?!  not the jude, which is to say that he was just fine with us leaving.  cruise ya later, jerks, this blond lady is going to pay attention to me now.

the best part?  eating a hot meal.  eating a hot meal when it was served to me and not stopping or waiting or rushing or SHARING.  i went to town on that bad boy like a stranded pirate with a hollow leg.  we sat outside in the nice weather and drank pints and ate foods and laughed out loud at strangers being idiots.
because that's what we do.

i will own youuuuuuu, lil fishies.

after that we headed over to the concert, thinking that hopefully we had wasted enough time to miss the opening bands, but of course they hadn't even started yet.  that's how it always works, you know?

a few cans of PBR later we were watching one of our favorite bands play, celebrating the last show of their tour, clapping in a drunk guy's face and watching a brah dressed like justin bieber try to mosh.  which i guess is what adults do when they aren't watching yo gabba gabba interviews from coachella, i'm not really sure anymore.

we saw this guy, who is apparently "famous".
 i have to put "quotes" around "famous" because i have no idea who he is.
he looks french, and i disliked his face almost immediately.

hold on to your vaginas, ladies, and try to restrain yourselves.
this is the band he's in:

um, yeah.  that's seriously happening.

i can't even talk about this right now.
and guy fawkes wants his face back.

the best part was when guy and his tiny friends were all standing around in a circle in silence looking at their blackberries.  i could have joined right in and no one would be the wiser.  except my pants were not nearly tiny enough.

we had a good time.  when we got back a little person in his jammies rubbed his eyes and gave me a hug.  and then i took a shower and burned everything i was wearing.  amen.

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