I remember the days in my late teens and 20s when I would go out clubbing, drink to 3am, get up for work then next day with a hop in my step. Once 6pm rolled on, I’d go home, have food, a power nap and then do it all over again, this was pretty much my life and I loved it. It also helped that my partner in crime, Irene, was also up for this. We worked, lived and partied together. As I got older the hangovers started to progress, but I was single and had no children so was able to wallow in the self pity I so rightly deserved. Waking up with last night’s makeup stuck to the pillow and garlic mayonnaise in your hair was the norm. I’d then crawl down to the sitting room and be so grateful that I had planned for such an event the day before. In my kitchen were crisps, dips, food for a fry up and more fizzy drinks than your local shop has on offer. I made myself a picnic on the couch and only moved to change the channel on the remote control.
As a parent the hangover is now a different experience. My first real night out after Riley was born was a big one. Now you have to remember that I never drank at all through my pregnancy, plus, I never really drank for about 7 weeks after she was born, just a glass here and there. The night I went out out, I didn’t drink the normal amount I usually would as I just couldn’t handle it, but the small amount I did have, certainly did its job. I stayed at a friend’s house that night so the agreement was that I would have Riley the next day…what a stupid agreement to make..rookie mistake. So the next day as I felt like my head was being smashed in by a hammer, I begged my partner to mind Riley, he refused. My partner doesn’t drink so when you are dying he has a bit of a smug look on his face, plus he has zero sympathy for you. Well my logic was that this was my first night out so he should have stepped in, he disagreed. Luckily at this time Riley was only little and a good baby but every move with her was torture, a poopy nappy made me gag, the spit up from milk almost made me pass out and god forbid there was a snotty nose, then my life would be over. So I struggled through the day pleading for the night to come and take me and Riley to bed. When that moment came, I felt that was the best moment of my life… Now Riley is no longer a little baby, but a boisterous toddler and one of her favourite things is to bounce up and down on your tummy when you lay down. I no longer get to sit and wallow in self pity and lay on the couch all day watching reality TV. My hangover now would be to sit and pray for a quick death..bit dramatic I know but try and deal with a hangover while listening to a child screaming with excitement as she watched Peppa Pig, Ben & Holly or Little Baby Bums, oh my god…Little Baby Bums, those bloody nursery rhymes..So is it all worth it…hell yeah, we all need a good night out but I’m a little bit more sensible these days and don’t get quite so drunk…I feel this may happen again, but for now it seems to be ok, my hangovers tend to go away with a couple of aspirin. I must be growing up, only took me to get to 43 before that happened.