This weekend I put on make up and actually went somewhere. Shocking, I know. It was a bridal shower for my friend Tracy. Twas meant to be an English tea party, hence the fascinating fascinators:

Aren’t those the girls from Ab Fab?

Amelia was especially fond of them (note: I am totally kidding; she was scared shitless. And really, wouldn’t you be if you saw a bunch of crazy ladies with all of that bizzare crap stuck to their heads? The kid’s got a point).

Even Alex got into the swing of things when he turned up later:

I mean, how can these two not be perfect for each other? It takes a real man to wear a fascinator.

In terms of how I’ve been coping, I guess I am coping okay. But that’s who I am; an okay coper. I am shredded, but am exceptionally good at pulling it together when I need to. Years of functioning within dysfunction will do that to a gal. Example: this weekend I went out, but left to have a break/cry mid-way through before I headed back. That’s usually what I do when I go out to things, or I go, but head home early. Or some days I don’t go at all. The people who I spend time with are used to me either bailing or tears spontaneously running down my cheeks and just accept this. It’s nice that I keep getting invited back to things, really. My family and friends kick ass.

Off to go get ready for some more visiting with the fam before they head back across the pond/giant ocean.