Valentine's

I am not a huge fan of Valentine's Day. It doesn't seem like a real holiday to me, but a somewhat contrived made up day created to get people shopping in their mid-winter, post holiday gloom. We decided to opt out of the traditional romantic notion of Valentine's Day this year and instead hosted a little gathering for a few friends. Friends that, well, like to play Rock Band. For hours and hours and hours.

That's how it started at least. Then we added a mini-spa day for the ladies in the morning. We enjoyed massages, facials and much quality time on the lovely chaise lounges in the serene ladies' retreat room. We finally nudged ourselves out of the fluffy robes and went out to lunch.

After lunch, we ran home to change for our doubles tennis tournament. One hour, two tennis courts, four couples and lots of laughing. The tennis play ranged from Christine and me who started playing in June, Cynthia who has played since high school and our hubbies who barely ever get out to a court unless we drag them to the (wow, we were totally out of our league) expert levels of our dear tennis rock star friends Carolyn and Mike. It made for interesting (and really funny) matches.

The kids were at our house under the watchful eye of babysitter Nicole, who took off like a shot the minute Chris and I got home. As I watched the kids quietly enjoy a snack at the kitchen table, I commented on how they were playing so nicely and quietly. I was quite impressed with all of their behavior.

They all looked back at me wide eyed and smiled innocently until sweet little Hayden (Greg and Cynthia's daughter - almost 4 years old) commented with glee, "We are now. We were alot louder and wilder when just Nicole was here. You should have seen us then!"

I was laughing too hard to have a response.

The adults regrouped at our house after showers with pizza. We fed the kids, got them all settled into the playroom and commenced our reentry into the land of rock band. I am not sure what our slight addiction to this game says about all of us, but at least I know the addiction is shared with good company.

We stayed up way past all our bedtimes. Much, much too late.

I don't think the life of a rock star ever faced the harsh reality of the oh, too early 7 a.m. wake up call by the ever energetic kiddies. This rock star needs a nap, or maybe a nanny?