In my twenties I used wake up feeling like this, you know, like I'd been hit by herd of galloping steeds. After knocking me down, those steeds had obviously caught hold of my fishnet thigh-highs still on from the night before and dragged me another several miles before taking turns stomping on my face. When I woke up feeling this way, the chances were high that I had been dancing on some tables the night before. The chances were astronomically high that I talked you out of your hat, too. Sorry about that. I was kind of a douchecanoe when I did that. I just wanted to see if you'd actually give me your hat, man. And so many of you did. Anyway...

I feel like this this morning. And it's because I pulled another all-nighter. Only this time there was no dancing. No hat stealing and no tirades warning of the downfall of the music industry at the hands of Dave Matthews Band. Nope.  

Last night was a mom all-nighter. And while I did have to get too close to someone's face, it wasn't because I was moving in for a you're the best friend I have ever had kiss. I did sleep in some awkward positions but it wasn't because I was wedged between four other people on a couch.

I was checking fevers and holding this baby girl upright so she didn't choke on snot. We were up every twenty minutes or so when the coughing got so hard it made her cry. And I cried some tears too. Sometime around 3 a.m. there were tears for her and maybe a few for me. We were tired, dudes. I get weepy when I'm tired.

I also get weepy when I've had too many Lemon Drop shots. But not last night. Last night I was just a mom laying next to her baby all night asking her to feel better.

What a difference ten years makes, no?