Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Mud Nationals 2011, Part I

It's been 4 months and we've never been away from our Lillie Mae for more than 20 hours. Nor has she been further than 30 minutes away from me. Sure, she's had slumber parties with the family so Alfred and I can have some adult time without worrying about what color her soft-serve (read: poop) she'll be impressing us with for the evening. Or whether she's going to let us watch a movie without a sound (read: never). Or if I fed her last at 3pm or 4pm (read: 2pm).

So, despite this possibly making me sound like the worst parent in the world I'm still going to say it. (Because obviously when you become a parent, you're no longer allowed to enjoy things that don't involve your kids.)

I was incredibly excited for this past weekend to come to pass. And I had been for oh, say, the last year. It was this time last year that I had found out I was just barely pregnant (yay!) and yet, we still had plans to head to Mud Nationals; a mud-slamming, 4-wheeler riding, hell of a party event that we've been frequenting for the past few years. I talked with the doctor, he gave me the okay and we went even though mentioning that we were going  and that I was pregnant to anyone pretty much landed me the stank eye from every possible angle. I reveled in it. But I had a great time as I pretended my Dr.Pepper was laced with Parrot Bay and amazingly, my daughter popped outta the ol' kid chute with no problem.

And for 2011, with no bun in the oven, I was bound and determined to make this weekend a beautiful endeavor into some much needed debauchery and boozehounding. And with the help of my amazingly awesome friends, Emilie and Lauren, it was. Oh, it was. 

The guys (there were 6 of us in total) headed out Thursday night to set up camp, because they claimed they wanted a good spot but us women knew they all really just wanted a guys' night. But being the awesome wives we are, we let them believe we believed them. It's how we roll. Not to mention, I wasn't mad at hogging Lillie for one night before heading out Friday morning.

Emilie stayed the night with me, I dropped off Lillie with her awesome cousins for the weekend, Lauren showed up - we shoved Emilie's Impala (I merely mention the make of the car because it comes into play later on in the weekend antics) full of our crap and headed out. We got there by 2:30 with no trouble, a lot of laughs and one helluva playlist I've been working on for weeks that has temporarily broken me. By 2:45 we were hitting up the trails, staring into the wonderful world of rednecks and refilling our coolers with, uh, beverages at a surprisingly low rate. We were all very much on the same page as we want to ride, not get so tore-down that we somehow lose a shoe, our dignity and a chunk of our hair in a 15 minute window.

However, that page was torn out and thrown down the porter-potty around the time dark started to set in. There's a camera full of pictures in my purse that will no doubt make the person manning the photo-booth when I drop them off say "What in the wooorrlll..." Because yes, my friends, there was a dance contest. An amazing one at that and we all came across a.... fanny pack.

For the record, I don't have a problem with fanny packs. I mean, they're relatively useful if you for some reason have too many items that won't fit in your pockets and you also need to hold up your pants. But if like the rest of us you've moved past the 80s, you probably don't see them much anymore.This guy was sporting it like nobody's business and while we were able to sneak in a picture (thanks, Emilie!) we were not however, able to sneak away from our comments.

Yep, he totally caught us talking about it. And while we weren't saying anything particularly bad other than "WTF, a fanny pack?!" And of course, me saying "Dayummm, you know if we bedazzled that we would def be rocking that look and I so wouldn't be mad at it." But he was a sport, offered us a beer or 3 and then later we found out WHY he was so proud of it.

*ahem* Puff, Puff *ahem*

Right about that time, we said sayanara and did a few more trails without any stragglers.

We called it a night (or a morning depending on how literal you want to be), woke up Saturday with very few ill-effects other than Lauren's bum knee from her amazing dance set she pulled out. And some regurgitated pot roast that we'll just pretend we didn't see.

And this my friends, is the end of Part I. Part II will be up and happening in a couple days - hopefully with photos.

No comments: