A very messy night

Now, this is not a story that can be glamorised or made to sound anything more exciting than what it is. However, as much as I would like to stick my fingers in my ear and chant "Lalalalalalalala", I need this post as a reminder to not go back there, ever again.

Oh, and kids, if you ever read this, learn from silly Mummy's mistakes and just drink soft drink, ok? Or light shandys like Daddy. He's sensible.

I was having a normal Friday at Nicole's house for Mothers Group. We'd had a great day playing with the kids in the pool and then enjoying the quietness as they all slept and we had lunch. My other Mothers Group were attending a Learning Ladder party and decided to organise an impromptu dinner out to a great little Thai place.

It sounded like it would be a good night with yummy food, laughs and a few drinks. I organised Sera, who is breastfeeding and therefore great as a designated driver, to pick me up around 7pm.

Our alcohol cupboard is nearly over flowing, as neither Duane or I drink but for some reason, people like to give us alcohol. I poked through it and found and innocent looking bottle of Verdelho that I had bought on a quick trip Trude and I had to the Hunter Valley, way before kids.

So we get to the restaurant and no-one else is wanting to drink wine. I think this is where it all went down hill. I was thirsty, but the dumbass in me went to the wine glass to quench my thirst, not the damn water. Lisa had invited 2 of her friends that I had met 1 or 2 times, and after my little shennanigans, hope to never see again.

I was pissed by the time the entrees came out. Not too far gone, but enough to blurt out any minuscule thought that came into my mind. My drunk side has this crazy notion that everyone wants to hear what I have to say REALLY LOUDLY. I'm not a drunk that calmly sits back, sipping quietly. Nope, I'm the obnoxious one that gets louder and louder and louder, totally oblivious to the fact that no-one really gives a shit what I have to say or show (granted that was in context, we were talking about breastfeeding, but c'mon did they really want to see nipple??)

By main course I was completely wasted. My bottle was finished and I was on to someone else's. I did manage to enjoy a small part of my chicken and cashew stir fry, but doubt I'll ever be able to eat that again. I do remember desperately needing to go to the toilet, but being so scared of standing up and walking. Everything doesn't seem too bad until you have to move and coordinate your upper and lower half, without going arse over tit. I did make it to the toilet though, but I vaguely remember Sera helping me. A lot.

I do also remember photos being taken, Duane being called and me even talking to him on the phone. I remember telling everyone that the last 2 times I have drunk, I've fallen pregnant. I can safely say that I was in no state for baby making this time though. I really can't remember what else happened.

Time was a little hazy, but I think Sera & I left the restaurant at about 10pm. I know I gave her my key card and pin to pay for my dinner. Sera and Beck walked with me to the car, but about half way I needed to sit down, so did, on the garden bed. Then the overwhelming urge to throw up came, so up came all my dinner. Believe me, cashews are not nice coming back up. Gritty little things getting stuck in your teeth and throat. Beck & Sera, the bitches, was still taking photos, but also giving me sips of water and holding back my hair. Good friends hey.

I managed the car ride home ok, except the last few mins where I had to really concentrate on not spewing. Sera was chatting the whole time, and I had to tell her to stop as the more she talked the more I wanted to chuck. We pulled up out the front of our house, I got out of the car, said Hi to Duane, then vomited in the gutter, stepped over it and went inside. All class.

Duane was laughing his head off as he stripped me off, put a towel on the bed and tucked me in. Then, he called his Mum to come up in the morning as he had to go to work at 5.30am and he was worried how I would cope.

I was feeling crappy all night, but luckily the kids slept in till 7.30am. That's when I staggered out and realised that my babysitter (God Bless the mil) had been sitting in the lounge since 5.30am. She hung around until Duane got home at 9am, but as long as I was horizontal on the couch I wasn't too bad. She did ask if that was my mess in the gutter that she had to step over on the way in.

It's Sunday and I'm still feeling seedy, but not going to complain about such self inflicted sickness.