Bar Crawlin' for Christmas...

After our crazy late night holiday drunk fest, and an extended Tuesday night Mom’s Night (complete with a guest appearance by Mrs. Peterson)last week flew by in a blur. Fueled by caffeine, I made it through the work week, held it together while my company’s investors visited and kept my cool when the kids were sent home with a stomach bug. I will save the gory details, but thank goodness for my husband’s insane attachment to his iPhone, without which our poor day care providers(the absolutely amazing Lindsays of the Junebug Academy!) would have been stranded on puke island with the Shepherd children.

But, tis the season and in the Shepherd family that means it’s drinkin’ time! One of my absolute favorite holiday traditions since becoming a Shepherd is the annual Christmas bar crawl. It was started many moons ago when Bill and Cheryl would find any excuse to ditch their three whiny children and go boozing for the day. Well, I am happy to say that the tradition continues on! Only now the three whiny children can drink, bring their significant others and I have become the lady with “a baby in a bar.” It’s a tradition in our family but one that is also shared with the closest friends, the Hughes, Goldsmiths and Mr. Chip Moore (others pop in and out but the founders are the true believers.)

Anywho, Josh and I decided to bundle up the Killer E’s and throw them in the car for a quick 4 hour trip to the ‘Noke. Boy, was that a bad idea. A piece of advice for the new mom. When a child has diarrhea, don’t put him in the car for a 4 hour car trip. The question, “can I poop in my pants?” came out a little too often even for my liking. Needless to say, we made it with only one accident, although I was ready to go straight to bed and was pretty sure I was the Bug’s next victim. After a good night’s rest (and the godsend of my in-laws who woke up with my children) I was feeling much better. Ethan seemed to be as well. After some napping, we were off to the bars!

Luckily, we had a babysitter in tow to ensure that the boys were properly entertained. Well, that backfired. Everett kept trying to leave the building and Ethan got really crabby. It reached a pinnacle when I insisted Ethan take a potty break. He refused. I picked him up and basically threw him on the toilet and began berating him until he went. (I should note that Ethan is pretty much potty trained but due to his lack of aim, he does still backward on the commode.) I looked away for just a split second and when I turned back, I saw it. Tongue extended, leaning forward, long swipe. Ethan licked the toilet lid. That was it. I ripped him off the seat, gave him a giant wedgie and took him to his father-in-law to be escorted off the premises. If you know me, I have no fear of germs, but even that was enough to make me want to take a Purell shower. After Ethan’s “A Christmas Story” moment the rest of the evening went off without a hitch. It was complete with Jayme reminding us it was almost time to go at every bar (“Guys, I’m not really feeling it today.” To “We should leave before 6.” To “We need
t’ get home t’ watch Chrissmas movies, so let’s leave by 7.” And
finally “I wanna go t’ Wendy’s an’ eat a ch’ken san’wich. It’s 8.
Let’s go.”)

There were a bunch of cameras going off to properly document the day. Hopefully, some will get posted eventually. But true to form, I was driven and focused on my drinking, so my camera only popped out at the very end of the day. Here's a shot right before we left The Pine Room (not the s-show you would think...)

We returned home the next day with a screaming Everett, a disgruntled Ethan, and a sleighful of presents. With only days to the big event, can we hold it together? Can we keep the children from tearing into all that wrapping paper? Will Ethan finally stop asking for a skeleton mask? And most importantly, will I be driving a mini van?? (insert shocked face here.) dun dun dun...