Do you sometimes mourn your weekends before kids? Perhaps you’ve deliberately blocked them out. Here’s 10 ways kids change them…
1. Mornings. You wake up without a hangover but still feel more knackered than you can ever remember feeling. With a banging headache. Courtesy of a cuddly dog sitting by your head, singing ‘Rocking around the Christmas Tree’ at 6.50 AM. It’s June.
2. A leisurely breakfast. You imagine eggs, croissants and family time. The reality is three separate sittings of soggy Weetabix, Rice Krispies without milk and burnt toast. Plus a few tantrums when the Rice Krispies is initially served with milk.
3. An actual plan for the day. This doesn’t involve newspapers, catching up on Home and Away and a precious date with your sofa. Unless That’s Not My Sodding Fairy is considered a broadsheet, Topsy and Tim back to back episodes are the new omnibus and your sofa is in fact the kitchen floor. Which needs cleaning AGAIN.
4. Shopping and a spot of lunch. At the farm. Where you part with £60 for the pleasure. The two year old costs £15.00 alone so you look around and wonder who you can leave her with. Before reluctantly handing the cash over. Yes, £60 to see a couple of mangy Guinea Pigs, a depressed Llama and a token Meerkat. Before spending another £20 on ‘not included’ rides, snacks, drinks and tat from the gift shop. BECAUSE THOU SHALT NOT LEAVE BEFORE PASSING GO, COLLECTING £200 AND SPENDING IT ALL IN THE GIFT SHOP. You try not to dwell on the fact that you could have had TWO facials for the price.
5. ‘Me-time.’ On the way back the kids fall asleep two minutes from home. Desperate for the peace, you sit in the car outside your house for 45 minutes. Because it’s better than the alternative. Waking them. You wish you had a magazine. But you don’t. So you read That’s Not My Sodding Fairy 27 times instead. And wonder why she can’t magic up Marie Claire. Some fairy she is.
6. Enjoying a meal out. The kids wake. Moodily. This puts paid to any ideas of taking them for dinner. But desperate to reclaim a bit of the weekend for yourself, you do it anyway. Against your better judgement. You order four pizzas and 15 glasses of wine. Before asking your other half what he would like to drink. The kids eat the olives off the pizza before announcing they are ‘full.’
7. Bathtime. Finally. But not for you. No. Forget a capful of Elemis milk bath, candles and reading The Fault In Our Stars. We’re talking some artificial rubbish from Johnson & Johnson (I mean organic, obviously), a few squeezy ducks which keep ejecting some black, tar like substance and yes, you guessed it, That’s Not My Sodding Fairy, the bathtime version.
8. Cocktail Hour. This weekend joy formerly known as ‘Happy Hour’ has been replaced by ‘Bedtime Hour.’ It is neither Happy nor an Hour and you are considering suing it under the Trade Descriptions Act. Because it NEVER takes an hour. And can be pretty damn miserable depending upon how overtired and wired the kids are, how uncooperative they are feeling and whether you have actually passed out from the 15 glasses of wine you had at dinner. Here’s hoping.
9. Night-life. Finally peace reigns. Some 14 hours after the day first began, you get some ‘me-time.’ This is the time you would have just been going out. Before kids. Now it seems horrendously late. You consider watching Fargo or Happy Valley. But it’s almost 8.30 PM. Can you really be that reckless? On a Saturday night of all nights? You compromise with half hour of How I Met Your Mother. At least that way you can be asleep by 9.00 PM.
10. Going to bed/passing out. You make it to bed at the slightly later time of 9.15 PM. Just as you lay your head on your pillow, you hear it. ‘Mummeeeee.’ The two year old has lost her comforter. When I say ‘lost’ it is not lost at all but is, in fact, a mere 1cm from her head. But this is 1cm too far and beyond her reach. Only YOU can retrieve this for her. Only YOU have the power. So you will do this another 2-3 times throughout the night. The next morning this is referred to as ‘The Comforter Hangover.’ Except there is nothing comforting about it.
Does this sound like your weekend? Do you miss Happy Hour? Perhaps you’re through the early years and the weekends are yours again! Come and join in the banter at Surviving Life and Motherhood. The clue’s in the title…
Picture courtesy of https://www.behance.net/danielpalacios