Remember the days you could go out, get totally wasted and somehow drag yourself back home and into bed, (not before stuffing your face with basically whatever you can get your hands on with the excuse that it’s “soaking up the alcohol”?). Well those days are gone the moment you have children and I can tell you for a fact that, hangover is a bitch when you have kids!

It’s New Year’s Eve. My husband and I decide to host a small party in our house for some friends. Most of the guests are in their 40’s so I’m not expecting an overly wild night.  We whip out the party games (cos let’s face it, nothing says ‘party animal’ more than a good round of Articulate), and I make my best effort at preparing three types of cheese quiches for our guests.

I stick to the wine cos I’m not too great with the bubbly stuff and I must admit that the cheese quiches taste better than expected so I really go for it at some point, (after all I do need to ‘pad my stomach’ if I’m drinking – who came up with this rubbish???).

Have you noticed how poor your judgement gets when you drink? Yes, it’s taken me 40 years to realise that one… so when the wine finishes I casually start drinking champagne thinking ‘it’s fine, I know what I’m doing’.

Big mistake

All I remember after that is bending over the toilet bowl being sick while my dear  husband holds my hair back. We are seventeen all over again only this time I know that I better get my act together because in less than four hours I need to be up and back to mummy mode.

You see, when you are a parent you don’t have the privilege of sleeping in, or being sick or having a hangover. No. When you’re a parent you need to be up for the task at all times!

So while I lay on the bathroom floor feeling like my worse nightmare, (and probably looking like it too), I have a little cry on the inside as I imagine what tomorrow will be like.

My husband gets me a glass of water and drags me into bed. I know my bum is sticking out and my makeup has been smudged and is now making me look like a zombie and all I can think of is “thank god this man is married to me otherwise I would never see him again”.

I fall asleep (or pass out depending on how you wanna put it), and drift off to a drunken dreamland knowing that this night will be short and tomorrow will probably be the longest day of my life.

In my dreams I see a giant cheese quiche chasing me. I soon realise it’s morning and one of the twins is sitting on my head trying to wake me while the other one is bouncing on the bed singing “three little monkeys”. Ella calls me from the toilet and asks me to check if she’s wiped her bum probably and I am still in a state of shock.

I look over to my husband who I think is having a minir stroke as he gazes into space, and I manage to somehow say “happy new year”.

Enjoy the new year you lovely people x

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