Saturday was Amber’s birthday.  As most of you know, I am a BIG
birthday person.  I love them.  I am always mildly annoyed when someone
doesn’t want to celebrate their birthday – what’s not to celebrate
about?  (Just wait until next year, Nicole – your “I just had a baby
excuse” is not going to cut it)  Anywho.  We were not going to miss the
big night out.  Especially since it involved sushi, which is one of my
favorite foods and something I haven’t eaten since I was pregnant. 
(Also, I hate eating Sushi in the winter – food’s cold, weather’s cold,
I’m cold – UGH).  But it has been nice in Denver, so I was ready.  I
really wanted to be able to go out BIG….so I interviewed a
babysitter.  She was a very nice girl – young, lives in the
neighborhood (and could walk to our place), was very sweet holding
Raines even when he was grouchy and answered all of my crazy questions
correctly.  She was great.  Perfect, in fact.  Mike came home.  I told
him we found our sitter.  Mike says,  “great, Babe.”  (NOTE the absence
of an exclamation point).  I don’t know if I expected him to argue
about getting a sitter, or at least that he would appear SLIGHTLY more
worried or want to talk through it (ask about the questions I grilled
her with, ask about her experience maybe???), but once a sitter started
to look like a real possibility, I started sweating, my heart started
racing – I was second away from a Erica Kane style nervous breakdown. 
So no sitter.  At least not this weekend.  So I put Raines in his Going
Out outfit (pic above).  Raines was great.  And by great, I mean
sleeping.  Sushi was good, drinks were good.  I had fun.  SO much fun,
in fact, that after dinner, when the par-TAY was moving off to another
club, Mike (the greatest husband in the whole world) offered to take
Raines home so I could go out dancing!  WHOO HOO!  SO much fun.  So I
did a little shakeIT-shakeIT-shakeIT in a real club – not just on my
living room floor.  I had a blast.  I felt old as h*ll, but I had a
blast.  As a bonus, most of the women in the club were shorter than
me.  This never happens.  It was either due to the fact that it was
Cinco de Mayo night, or because all of the girls were about 12 years
old. I’m going with the 12 years old theory.  Anyway, it was probably
the only night in my life where I felt like a very tall, glamourous
(albeit old) super model.  That feeling was short lived.  I got home
and within a few hours had come down with food poisoning.  D@mn sushi. 
We spent the next day at the Urgent Care center, where they pumped me
back up with fluids and put me on Cipro (which, BTW, also works for
Anthrax.  I think I’ll stash a few pills away, just in case.)  My first
night out.  Sigh.  Sometimes, a girl just can’t catch a break.