I like new year’s day. Given the state of my grey matter from looking after a newborn and chasing after a toddler, this could well be the one day of the year that I remember what day it is. Even if that’s only because the pub shut at 4pm, so there had to be something up.
Did we fly off to the Caribbean to sip cocktails on the beach?
Did we hire a cottage somewhere remote and spend a week hiking in the countryside, spending hours sipping real ale beside wood burners in cosy pubs?
Strangely, there is a distinct lack of children in those photos. This year we enjoyed a nice Chinese meal with friends. No, it’s not what our pre-kids life was like. Do I care? Not really. A lovely meal surrounded by friends and your children (being as well-behaved as is possible for a hyped-up 2 year old out for the evening in a confined space) and eating tasty food. That’ll do for me. And there’s the added bonus of getting to wear your slippers for midnight. The only downside? My youngest has a penchant for puking down my cleavage. I could have done without that during the main course.
Happy New Year everyone!