Twitching with caffeine I am left dazed in the wake of a most super hedonistic weekend - alcohol fuelled, fun filled, hair down, party hard - without child. Hurray! Although the overwhelming hangover combined with a two hour drive and one emergency puke pitstop on the motorway wasn't so great, and pretty much wiped Father's day off my radar. But hell it was worth it.
F kick started Friday night with a spot of projectile vomiting. I wiped his sweaty forehead, soothed his tears and secretly prayed that it was a one off. In the morning he seemed refreshed, so boxing up a whole lot of mama guilt I packed him off to nanny's house and headed to London.
Staying at our friends flat in Muswell Hill, I readily sipped potent homemade cocktails in their beautiful and eclectic home before heading out into Hampstead, making a mental note to redecorate our entire flat. There was birthday cheer, flowing wine, prosecco, shots, rum, friends, laughter, some singing, a bit of dancing and I loved it. It was like I had been given a day pass from the looney bin. I embraced my youth and felt 21 all over again.
The phone call from nanny came at 9pm, F had been sick again. Shit. I was hammered, so there was pretty much nothing I could do but trust my mum to comfort him. I suppressed the guilt with another rum and coke, the night turned into a blur and at some point a taxi was called.
With my birthday fast approaching I'm scrabbling for youth, freedom, and resisting the inevitable. Sometimes parenting makes me feel old and I remember not to loose sight of myself. I'm not shunning motherhood but there is a balance that is failing me. It's time for a change. Tomorrow I will blow out my candles and make a wish.
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