Nights out are few and far between these days. Not because I’m a bore (well, maybe a little), but because the thought of a 5.30am wake up after three hours sleep and a night on tequilla slammers (told you I’m not a bore) does not fill me with the same giddy excitement that I used to get planning a night out in my pre-baby days.
However, I make an exception for friends’ birthdays and special occasions, and have managed to remove my vomit stained joggers and go ‘out out’ at least five times in the 18 months since becoming a mother. I know, steady on.
Over those five times I’ve seen some trends emerge…
9am (the morning before)
You tell your husband that he needs to be home from work before 6pm so that you can get ready to leave the house for 6.45.pm.
You decide to get ahead of yourself and straighten your hair whilst giving your feisty toddler her dinner – at least you have leftovers from last night’s dinner – shepherds pie, her favourite. You proudly present her with her dinner and plug in your hair straighteners. No sooner have you done one section of your hair and the toddler’s trying to hand you back her plate ‘no!’…Wtf? You try and ignore her in the hope that she’ll forget she doesn’t want it. *bang, clatter* the plate and its contents are all over your kitchen floor. You make her a cheese sandwich instead and set about cleaning up the mess…oh good, dad’s home on time.
You retreat to your bedroom to straighten your hair. Hair looking good you set to work on your makeup…”Aya!” There’s your toddler, as cute as can be giving you a big wave. “Hiya darling…where’s daddy?” She comes over and climbs up you for a cuddle. Aw, how can you resist?
She starts to pull out the entire contents of your makeup bag which you let her carry on with whilst you apply your foundation – whatever keeps her busy. Aw look, she’s pretending to be mummy putting the blusher brush on her cheeks. Cute!
Oh crap, she’s managed to open the blusher. “Were’s daddy sweetheart? Why don’t you go find him?” You change your voice to ‘not impressed wife’ and shout out to dad…no answer. Shit, she’s digging her nails into the powder and there are red blotches all over your cream carpet, “No Taylor! Give it back to Mummy!” She doesn’t give it back. You have to prise it from her hands. Meltdown ensues. “WHERE THE (Insert profanity here in head) IS DADDY????”
You’ve tried on every outfit in your wardrobe and realised it a) doesn’t fit any more b) you don’t have any shoes, jacket, bag to go with it or c) looks shit. You’re frantically throwing clothes onto the bed and shouting about it not being fair that you can never go shopping anymore because the toddler won’t let you and the hubby doesn’t understand.
You leave the house in your favourite outfit from 2014…You get in the taxi and realise that you never did paint your nails.
You meet your mates in a classy joint (you are classy ladies) where they serve gin and elderflower cocktails in watering cans. You take lots of photos for Instagram – see people, I do have a life away from my child!
You wonder where all of your money’s gone five drinks and £60 later…but it’s okay you’re having a blast and you couldn’t give a damn what time you have to wake up in the morning. Shots anyone?
You go to the toilet and realise that you haven’t text the hubby to tell him you love him or ask about your daughter #BadMum. You decide it will be better to call him instead. You’ve woken him up and he’s not really in the mood to chat. Oops.
You’re having such a good time you decide to go to a club. You obviously go to the one you know that’s always banging and plays ‘sick’ tunes.
You get a taxi to take you across town because your days of tottering around the high street in your heels with no coat are over – you’re a grown woman now, a responsible mother.
You pull up to the club and you’re excited to see that there’s no queue – you don’t ‘do’ queuing these days either. You strut yourself into the club and…it’s completely empty. Aside a few couples on tinder dates smooching in the corner. The party moved on at some point in the last five years and this is not the place to be.
Do you care? Of course you don’t – TLC ‘No Scrubs’ is playing and you feel like you’re 16 again. You order jagerbombs for everyone and get your twerk on. You don’t do crowds these days anyway.
You request 50 Cent ‘In Da Club’ for your mate who’s birthday it is ‘Go shorty, it’s your birthday, we’re gonna party like it’s your birthday’. The DJ tells you that he doesn’t have that one in his collection any more…
Wow. You are so tired. You feel a little bit sick. You need to go home. Right now.
Please no, it can’t be!? No, no, no, no, no, no, no…