“Thank God its Friday” is an often uttered phrase, but now I have kids it has a completely different meaning from when I was in my child-free early twenties.
Then I used to desperately wish the week away and rush out of work on a Friday to spend a couple of hours getting ready, before heading out with my friends. Friday night out was usually followed by Saturday night out… and the weekend would be a blur of blue wkd and apple sourz. Then Monday would come and I’d start the countdown again.
Now when Friday rolls round, I’m thankful for very different reasons. Like no more school run for 2 days.
I’m thankful that my Hubby will be off work for the next couple of days. Then I might be able to wee in peace as there is another grown up to entertain the kids for a few minutes. If I’m really lucky, I might even get a lie in and a cup of tea in bed.
I’m thankful that I’m off work and we get to do stuff together as a family, even if it’s just going shopping or watching a family film, or chauffeuring the kids to various soft play parties.
I’m thankful that I don’t have to spend ages applying eyeliner or picking the perfect outfit, only to end up sweating and drenched in other people’s drinks with only a hangover to look forward to the next day.
Instead I’ll slip into some comfy pyjamas and watch a film. Maybe I’ll even have a glass of wine. Of course I’ll fall asleep on the sofa before I’ve finished it. That’s like the Mum law.
I’m thankful that now in my (early) thirties and as a mum to 2 young kids it’s perfectly acceptable to chose an uneventful evening in over a sticky dance floor and ridiculously impractical shoes.
Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy a good night out with friends, but it generally involves cocktails at a nice restaurant rather than shots and a takeaway kebab. When I do go ‘out’ out, with my mum tum tucked into a pair of trusty skinny jeans and my ‘sensible’ heels on, I usually end up feeling ancient and boring next to all the fashion – conscious inebriated teens.
And it’s not because I’m grown up, or in anyway too good for all of that. It’s simply because by the time the weekend rolls around I’m just too tired. Too tired to spend more than 20 minutes prepping to leave the house. Too tired to queue at packed bars or to dance for hours. Too tired to contemplate having to deal with being woken up at 6am after a 3am bed time – especially if the kids haven’t been sleeping well the rest of the week. And – thanks to my lack of practice over the past few years – I know that even a mild hangover will render me too tired to do anything of value for the next week.
Maybe I am just getting old. But tonight I’ll be quite content watching TV and maybe enjoying a glass of wine. Until I fall asleep on the sofa.