I’ve reached that age.
My heart wants to party all night on New Year’s Eve with my closest friends…
… My head knows I shouldn’t drink that champagne margarita, yet I do it anyway…
… And as it turns out, my body just can’t keep up.
The hubs and I rang in 2015 at a “New Year, New House” party hosted by our besties. Sequins were everywhere, board games were dominated and the champagne was certainly flowing. I know those things for a fact, because I evidently become the selfie queen after a few drinks.
It was recommended that I get a selfie stick for such occasions. Katrin, you may be on to something.
But first, let’s take a selfie in Kristin’s incredible closet.
Even baby Bryn was sporting some sparkle!
Apparently I’m giving very popular life advice in this photo.
How many bottles of champagne can you count in this photo?
At some point after live-streaming Walt Disney World Magic Kingdom fireworks, and mid-way through a game of Catch Phrase, I got up and went to bed (sequins and all) without telling anyone. Apparently I’ve lost all ability to party the night away.
It’s probably a good thing, though. If one more glass of bubbly would have been passed my way, I would still be recovering. Blech.
Next year, I’m going to bed when Dorothy does. Momma just can’t hang.
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