I don’t know about you but by the time Thursday comes around I have very little left. My patience is drained, my energy has gone and that adorable bottle of wine is looking remarkably consumable.
Who am I kidding?! Let’s not pretend that I only drink on or after Thursdays! There are some Tuesdays that need a bit of a lift, and Mondays are pretty tough after a nice weekend of Daddy time. You don’t need to make up an excuse, but if you are ever feeling guilty about hitting the bottle mid-week (and sometimes not long after midday!) I have compiled my top, legitimate reasons for drinking before 5pm:
Be it baby explosions, potty-training accidents or full-grown toddler evacuations, poo is up there as a top reason. The Lord has been potty-trained for many months now but still we must endure the post-evacuation celebration akin to the Olympics’ closing ceremony as we bid farewell around the toilet bowl
The word ‘WHY’
This word should be struck out of the dictionary. I understand it is a critical word and the keystone to our kiddlings’ cognitive development, but if I never hear it again I will be a very happy mama!
Similarly to above, this time should not exist. AM or PM, 5 o’clock is a horrible, horrible time. 5am is our darlings’ most favoured wake up time and 5pm is nicknamed ‘the wall’ in our house. As if wired to the clock, one or both boys will instigate Operation Crazy Time rendering dinnertime a war zone.
Thomas, Peppa and Bob
Seriously, where are all the kids’ shows with subliminal adult humour that our parents enjoyed?! Instead, we have a gobby, spoilt pig, a talking train who’s accent changes with every new series and a construction worker who’s blatant disregard for health and safety is, quite frankly, criminal.
“I’ll be home by…”
This is specifically for significant others. If you say you will be home at 6:10pm, make sure you are home no later than 6:10pm. Every minute past the ETA instantly becomes a painfully long hour. It doesn’t really matter what time you get home, just get there when or (better still) before you say you will.
The life of a toddler consists of the following:
Get up, make a mess, eat, make more mess, go out, eat, sleep, make a mess of the mess, eat, bath and sleep.
Hence, the life of a stay at home mum is directly related:
Get up, attempt to tame mess, make breakfast, move mess into a corner, wrestle the man cubs out of the house, prepare lunch, think about mess whilst watching Netflix during nap time, pour wine and stare at mess, cook dinner, get drenched at bath time, drink more wine whilst cramming mess into any spare space, go to bed.
No matter how organised I am, laundry is always my nemesis. I have a swelling sense of pride when can see the bottom of the basket but then I remember the stale load in the machine which needs to be rinsed again. Or the load in the dryer that still needs to be put away. And then there’s that one sock that always escapes capture.
Also, I’ll never understand how boys get through so many more clothes than me…here’s a breakdown of my laundry:
I recently came out as a Belieber. It was a brave and necessary step but it feels great to finally be able to be myself. I am completely aware of the fact that the little punk is rather annoying but that doesn’t seem to quash my minor (and slightly inappropriate) obsession. As a result though, I have been mocked by my peers, reminded that I’m no longer a youngster and have lost the respect of some of my oldest friends. Wine helps (and also makes my voice sound like an angel!)
Sleep (or the lack thereof)
Even on a good night I struggle to get more than 4 – 6 hours sleep, rendering me exhausted by midday, every day. The way I see it I have two options – go to bed at 8pm or drink. I choose the latter.
Care to add any more?