Before kids the evening before a bank holiday weekend would go like this:
18:00 Get home from work, open a bottle of wine while waiting for Hubs to get in, put on some music, get changed.
19:30 Meet friends in a pub or restaurant, drink, laugh, share stories about the week, moan about work, drink more, laugh more, attempt an embarrassingly bad game of pool.
23:30 Roll home, probably with something to eat, and into bed…and I’ll stop there because my mum reads this.
10:30 Wake up to a leisurely breakfast.
Now the evening before a bank holiday weekend goes like this:
18:30 Hubs arrives home to find two small children covered in macaroni cheese and me picking it out of my hair.
19:00 Kids in the bath and I’m fantasising about the wine in the fridge.
19:30 Kids in bed and I get changed out of my drenched clothes into my pjs.
20:00 Something easy for dinner in front of the TV.
21:30 In bed with a cup of tea and twitter on the iPhone, kicking Hubs when he starts snoring.
07:00 Wake up to a dirty nappy.
Yep, living the dream, baby!