Time to Go Home

It's 5 am. I woke up to two of the girls coming home. Five am. One of them included the bride. I sure couldn't roll like these girls do anymore. The latest I made it out to was about 1:30 the night before. Regardless, it was 5 am. And although one would think that you would be pretty annoyed with the fact that you just got woken up at an unreasonable hour, I, was in fact pretty happy to see the bride had a great time. Even if all the other girls could not hang around as long as she did. So there was quite a bit of hooting and hollering, and by the time that everyone settled down, not only was I wide awake, but I was quickly reminded that I needed to pump. Stat.

Pumping. I did that quite a bit the past two days. Every 3 hours {with exception of while I slept, which was 5-6 hours} around the clock. Every 3 hours. I probably could have gone longer. Well, actually, I know I could have gone longer. But I was worried. So worried that something would happen to my supply. That somehow my body would just know that I was trying to trick it and punish me for it.

But it worked.  I pumped in the most embarrassing places. Including the high traffic airport restroom where a mirror of girls washing their hands would stare at me as they tried to figure out what in the world I was doing to my breasts. I'm sure I scared a few of them. I left the pools early to go back to the room to pump. Walked back from restaurants on multiple occasions to pump. Pumped in front of the girls while they got ready. Just let it all out. Carried around my large bag through Vegas, not sure where I would be at the 3 hour mark. Interrupted a good time in order to pump. On multiple occasions. And set my alarms to remind myself to pump. I was on the dot.

Obviously, it's worth it. The pumping. For my babies, I would do anything. No amount of fun with friends or scene that I was a part of could come between that. Which, in a sense, you could say, no one can come between me and my pump. Did I really just say that? I did. And really, I would throw up fists if someone tried to harm my pump. Well, maybe not fists, but definitely would have a few words.

Well, now that I have spent a half hour {not really} talking about my pump, and lost the interest of 90% of the people out there, lets just move right along and talk about the rest of the trip. For those that are waiting behind wondering if there will be any substance to this post.

There probably isn't.

But, Vegas. Oh, Vegas. It has been quite the experience. One, I am thankful I didn't chicken out and cancel at the last minute. Although the thought crossed my mind multiple times. Going to Vegas with a bunch of girls and going to Vegas with just your man can prove to be two very unique experiences.

Not bad, not better than the other, but different.

What did we do in Vegas? What girls typically do. We spent the majority of the day at the poolside. We drank from the minute we got up to the minute we went to sleep. Which, for writing purposes, lets say from 7 am to midnight. But not the kind of drinking that you did in college. Just enough to space it out throughout the day, not do anything reckless, and yet feel good about it.  Just enough to leave you wondering... how much water have I drank today? And when was the last time I ate?

We spent too much money. I spent too much money. I don't even want to think about the $35 dollar breakfasts and $75 dinners. That should be illegal, Vegas.

We cracked a lot of jokes, and I cursed more than I care to admit. Something about not being around children brought out the potty mouth in me. But that's okay. When I told the girls that this is like my moment to blurt out as much as possible because certain words were not allowed in the house, they looked at me shocked. Is this the same Becky we knew in colllege? Yes. But I am also now Mom Becky, that not only filters any sort of cursing around the children, but even puts a stop to language such as "dumb, stupid" or anything else that I view negative. Mom, Becky.

Speaking of mom "Mom Becky," I did quite a bit of that while in Vegas as well. The being a "mom" part.

I scolded a group of guys one morning. Early morning. 4 AM type morning. The kind of morning where we are all sleeping, deep sleeping, comfortable and content, until we get woken up by extreme loud obnoxious banging. At first I think it is coming from our room. The girls say no, next door. And it continues. And continues. Clearly they weren't getting the picture. So I throw my legs over the bed, put the meanest stomp on, fling open the door, and have at em.

It was a group of guys. About 5 of them. Barely look over the age of 21. Then again, I get told I barely look like I've graduated college.

Regardless, I give them a piece of my mind. Left hand on the hip, right finger out in the air.

"BOYS! You should be ashamed of yourselves! It's 4 in the morning and people are trying to sleep. It's time for you to go downstairs and get a key like a normal person!"

And the look on their face was priceless. Hanging their head down in shame and all as a guy speaks up. "So sorry." Genuine. Really.  I think if anything they were just so shocked that their mom was here in Vegas in the form of a 26 year olds body. Scolding them.

I slammed the door, walked back to my bed, and climbed back in. All while thinking... wow, did I really just do that? I did.

And the mom did not stop there. When I heard of things that the girls were doing or saying to one another, I was quick to speak my mind. I put my mom face on talked to the girls about how we should be kind to one another. How to treat other human beings. How I would never accept that sort of behavior from my children, yet alone grown adults.

And so although I knew that I was on this trip, feeling young and free again with a bunch of crazy girls looking to have a good time, my role as a mother had never left me. Not only did I not stop thinking about my babies throughout the trip, whipping out my phone on multiple times to look at their faces, and counting down the minutes to go home, but I was also reminded of how my life has changed, and no matter the setting, no matter who I am around, I will always try to protect, teach, and help those around me.

Always.

Because once a mom, always, a mom.

And I better go help the girl who is, how do I say this, letting the contents from her mouth go in the toilet now. Was that the proper way of saying it? Or still super gross? Eh. Okay, Here I go.

Maybe I'll blog from the plane again this time. Maybe I won't.

All I know is that I will be seeing those beautiful faces here shortly. Not soon enough. And I am ready to hit the road.

It's time to go home friends. Vegas, it's been real.