So we took the littles to a dinner party on Friday night.
It was a beautifully remodeled, Pottery Barn invoking, magazine photoshoot ready, stylish waterfront abode. I wanted to explore every inch of the place but didn't think our lovely hosts would appreciate me nosing around their laundry room or master bedroom closet.
I alternately spent my time panicking that my sunless tanner was emitting a scent only described by a metallic crossbred with my need-to-be-replaced running shoes and worrying that my toddler might walk up to the host, hold onto her chic capri pants and stare at her intently while filling his diaper with another, even more horrible, scent.
Less than five minutes after arrival Bubbalu threw both of his entertainment (matchbox cars) into the lake, once again solidifying my reasoning for purchasing his toys used. While that was quite entertaining for the rest of the guests I was less than thrilled. What am I going to occupy my inquisitive, stubborn, high energy toddler boy with now? Easy peasy: the neighbors' purple balloon which also ended up in the lake, rocks...which also ended up in the lake, and his sippy cup which ALMOST ended up in the lake. I just didn't want HIM to end up in the lake.
Bubbalu refused to eat his hot dog or anything resembling a normal diet and filled up on tortilla chips and watermelon. Ingenious combo, no? At least he drank milk. Sheesh.
Luckily there was a perfectly adorable chocolate brown lab for him to play with and a whole house full of understanding 'we have SO been there' folks.
Lil Chick blew out her pants while walking in the door which happily gained us private access to the master bathroom for changing duty. Stunning. Both the bathroom AND her diaper. She behaved very well but screamed halfway home to let her Mama know that she did, in fact, leave a bit too late. And by late I do mean 7:30.