Is there an App for that?

My son is basketball rock star!  Really!  This isn't just a proud mama talking about her baby...the one who made her throw up for 9 months straight, the one whose entry into the world meant baby #2 is my adorable Bloomingdale's daughter...this is the truth.  Okay, maybe not NBA worthy...yet...he is only 11! But good enough to make it onto the regional all star team and then win their way to a trip to Southern California for more games.  All very exciting stuff...but not what I need an APP for.  I've got the basketball mom thing down to a science...and one I'm actually really good at.  No, I'm going to need technology, chemicals, wine, whatever...as the stellar performance of the superstar means everyone is spending the weekend together in SoCal. 

Of course, by everyone, I mean the kids, the former husband and the Amazon girlfriend.  No, don't think she has grown an incredible interest in the sports my kids play...I mean we do remember the 5 inch heels and skin tight jeans she wore to the daughter's game a few months ago.  No, her presence is based solely on the fact I will be there as well.  Believe me, I try to put myself in her shoes and understand her position in our strange little friendly divorce scenario but I just can't get past the fake boobs and insincere smile to reach the point of pure empathy. 

It is an extremely well established fact that I don't ever, let me repeat, not ever, do we understand ever, want to get back with the former husband.  She can have him.  But she still seems to be intimidated by my presence...hey, what can I say? The overweight 5'2" threat that I am!  It just makes for an uncomfortable prospect...and, of course, we are all staying at the same hotel. Yes, my bags will be packed with wine, wine and oh yeah, wine!  Any chance I can drop 20 pounds and grow 6 inches before Friday?  Yeah, probably not.