Cabrewing.

I had this plan to write a long humorous post detailing the fun filled weekend Sean and I had while “Cabrewing” with our friends, but I’m still too sore and cranky. We left the campsite Saturday evening, a few hours after we got off the river. I’d given myself time to sober up in order to drive home. I took a quick nap, also known as passing out, next to the fire. When I woke, someone had kindly placed four oreos on my chest and I ate them. I watched as my friend grabbed a couple more beers and jumped onto a giant swan to float down river again before deciding I could probably never hangout with these people again.

How do you people do this all the time? Something happened when I had kids. My energy levels and drinking stamina are just gone. I’m so young, and yet I’ve spent a whole day complaining about how sore I am from one day of camping and floating down a river in a giant raft. Sure, I paddled four, maybe five times… totaling a solid 45 seconds. Sure, the guys pushed me off the raft, then pulled me back in, then pushed me off, pulling me back in just to push me off again. Sure, at some point I hit myself in the face with a paddle. I have reasons to be sore, but this sore? I feel like I went on a weeklong binge drinking white water rafting escapade; not a one night sleepover with a quick float down a river.

 

Our friends are all four or five years my senior and yet they are drinking circles around me. They are jumping off of trees and back onto swans. I’m convinced children suck the life out of you. They soak up all of your energy and spit it back into your tired face.

 

In order to go on this one night trip we had to schedule three babysitters, THREE. We left Friday night after we put the kids to bed at 7:00 and my mom took the first shift. She had to stay at our house overnight, feed Livie if she woke up, help Evie back to bed if she had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, and make sure the house didn’t catch on fire; or at least call if it did. We paid our sitter to come over at 9:00 a.m. and relieve my mom; that’s about the time I usually start filling out my craigslist ad to sell off the kids. Our sitter had the longest shift, mainly because we were paying her so she couldn’t call us and complain to come home early. She would have the girls all day and put them back to bed again that night at 7:00. My mother-in-law arrived just after 7:00 to again make sure the house didn’t burn down until we got back home later that night. I lied and told her that we would for sure be home by 9:00; I really had no idea if we’d be sober enough to make it home by 9:00, but I figured she could handle three sleeping babies.

When we finally made it home, I snuck into my youngest daughters room and my heart melted at the sight of her curled up face down in her crib with her legs tucked under and her little butt up in the air. She was so peaceful, and beautiful. I envied her life, and her cute little snore that meant she was in a deep, deep sleep. It’s been so long since I’ve slept like that. She didn’t have a care in the world.

I turned to leave her room but my not so slender build was too much for the floor and with each step I took the floor let out a loud creek. I turned my head to find my once peaceful snoozing baby staring deep into my soul…. so close. 

I scooped her up, and painfully wrangled her into a nursing position in the rocking chair. My eyelashes hurt. My arms struggled to support her mere 20 pounds of weight. After a quick five minutes I decided she was full, and practically tossed her back into her crib. I heard the familiar sound of snoring; only this time it was from my husband. How could he be asleep already? Why wasn’t I dad, being mom sucks.

 

Five years ago was the last time I braved this trip. Back then, I had just met Sean, and didn’t even know his friends names. I was afraid for any of them to see me without makeup on, and wanted so badly to be liked. I was crazy about Sean, but way out of my comfort zone. The amount of alcohol these people could consume was terrifying to me. I had a long history of binge drinking my way right into blacking out, complete with lots of throwing up. I didn’t want to embarrass myself, and for some reason was really tired. I tried to drink a little the first night, but opted to go to bed early and try again the next day. I barely drank at all on the river, but slept a lot. A week later Sean and I found out we were expecting our first baby. Shit. SURPRISE.

 

Now, five years later, I have my social drinking under control and three kids. Sean and I are married and I am able to drink without getting sick. I for once was not the person who threw up over the side of the boat. I genuinely had a lot of fun with everyone, and didn’t care about my appearance. I don’t have the same body that I did five years ago, but found myself a lot more confident. I was surrounded by friends, and felt comfortable being myself. I was sad to leave Saturday night, but I think it was best for both me and my husband. Sunday was rough, we were both sore. Not even hungover, but sore. 
I think  my lifestyle now better prepared me for this trip than my lifestyle five years ago. Now, when everyone was crammed together, screaming and singing random songs of the past, requesting one beer after another from the cooler beneath my feet; I felt somewhat at home. See the guys are the same as my kids. They scream, and sing, constantly need a new drink, play rough, and laugh often. You have to make sure they apply their sunscreen and clean up their campsite. Next year will be even better, and I’ll bring an air mattress. 



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