I love a hangover.

OK, OK, I know I sound like a complete alcoholic with that title, but it's true.
I am, now, finally over the hangover that resulted from my belated birthday celebration, pictured left (What's with the finger? Do I think I'm at the Super Bowl?). Yes, I'm aware my birthday was in December, and while I did have a lovely day, I have put myself among the ranks of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, and each year I select a date in January for "Mary's Birthday Observed". There's nothing I love more than a party and given the slightest reason I will throw one. And since, as you all know, I live in the tiniest house ever, and I barely have time to keep my family fed and dressed, never mind shop, clean and cook for a party, the majority of my gatherings have been outsourced as of late.

So this Saturday, Hubby and I headed to Hoboken with a bunch of friends to visit some of our old watering holes and generally make asses out of ourselves. Well, I did anyway (at least I didn't wind up on stage with the band like I did last year). Yes, S, I do know all the words to Timbaland's "The Way I Are" and, no, I am not embarrassed I almost got into a fight with those bitches who were getting into the car we had called.

Once we got home, Hubby and I managed to not totally embarrass ourselves in front of the babysitter. I think have perfected my "I'm not drunk" face, but I'm sure if I saw video I would see I was spectacularly unsuccessful in my deception. Hubby gives me away as he fumbles around looking for cash to pay her and finally gives up, shoving a wad of bills into my hands and stumbles down the hall to bed. I managed to get to bed around two thirty and was able to amass four hours of drunken unconsciousness (because we all know that's really not sleep as you wake up every hour to suck down a glass of water) before our eldest rooster-child came in to wake us at six thirty.

So yesterday, obviously, was not my most productive Sunday ever. There was much Wow Wow Wubbzy watched and breakfast consisted of things Hubby and I could pour quickly into bowls so we could crawl back to the couch to resume our prone position. Mercifully, my amazing brother in-law and his fabulous girlfriend, who stayed out later than we did indcientally, took the girls for the whole afternoon as a birthday gift to me.

This was the part of the day where I got to fully embrace my hangover and indulge it in all the ways I was able to before I had kids. Hangovers are great because unlike being truly sick, you know the pain is short-lived. You also have the right, I feel, to indulge your very whim. With the older children gone, Hubby and I were able to watch bad TV, since the baby is too little to ask what sodomy is while watching Law & Order*, and eat ridiculous amounts of junk food. I am not embarrassed to admit I ate an entire box of munchkins and was actively annoyed when I reached the bottom.

Hangovers also give you the right to nap copiously, which we did with abandon. We were serious about it and got fully under the covers and I even put on my eye mask. Hubby points this out as, yet another, aspect of my life in which I am high-maintenance, requiring an eye cover to sleep. He loves the quote from When Harry Met Sally, "You think you're low-maintenance, but really you're really high-maintenance." To which I reply, "No, I know I'm high-maintenance, I just think I deserve to be."

The day was all about indulgence and relaxation and it was freaking amazing. While I don't plan on drinking seven (OK, ten) glasses of champagne again any time in the near future, indulging in a hangover day can be really fun - when you can get someone to take your offspring. We ended the day with a bang, or should I say a meatball parm and pint of guacamole with chips, and three episodes of Rescue Me. And while I did enjoy yesterday fully, today is a bit of a let down. But I guess it's not every day you get to eat your body weight in donuts.

* You all know my baby-as-purse- philosophy