We had a good time at the party. We didn't get to bed until much later than I'm used to (oooohhhh...11:45 p.m.! We're party animals! haha!), so I am exhausted today. I tried to sneak a nap in this morning, but the babies weren't cooperating and the phone wouldn't stop ringing, so mission unaccomplished. I don't know how I made it those first three months with the babies not sleeping through the night, because I am one who needs my sleep - I'm a big baby without it.
RD and I were joking about my poncho before the party. I expected heat for it, but I didn't care, I was having fun with it. When we got home I told John that one of his friends complimented me on how I looked and how I thought that was nice of him to say - women are always throwing compliments around at each other, so a compliment always seems to weigh more when coming from a man. I spend the majority of my time at home wearing yoga pants and a cotton tee, hair pulled back in a ponytail, so it was nice to feel pretty for a change. Then RD, not knowing it kills the point of what he was trying to do in the first place, tells me this, "Yea, I told him that you thought people would make fun of you for wearing that, so I told him to tell you that you looked nice." Then he gives me this big smile as if to say, "See how sweet I am?"
Okay, that was nice for him to do - but first, I really don't care if people make fun of me for what I'm wearing. My goodness, I'm 30 years old and I could care less. I kind of expected it and I was ready to laugh along with them. Am I supposed to care if someone doesn't like what I'm wearing? And second, God love 'em, if he wants to be so kind as to tell someone before I arrive to make sure they tell me I look nice, that is very sweet of him, but you're not supposed to turn around and tell me about it!
Men! They try...but they just don't get it! :)
