There’s no doubt about it, life changes once you have children.
For me the biggest change was the big annual “holidays”. I don’t mean your two week break to Ibiza, I mean Christmas, Halloween et al. Let’s go back in time and examine how we celebrated before children, and how we celebrate now…
New Years Eve
BC Oh this is a biggie. New Years Eve (when single) is usually spent with friends. Copious amounts of alcohol are consumed and if you aren’t drunk by 10pm you might as well go home.
Tequila is flowing and you are setting your sights on who to snog at midnight. (Do people still say snog?) Your sights usually get lower and lower until 11.59pm you just grab whoever is closest and hope they are either fit as fuck or you never see them again. Oh, come on, we’ve all been there.
AC You give the kids an early bath and crack open a bottle of fizz (probably Prosecco as that’s all you can afford now) at 8pm. You argue over what to watch on TV and both fall asleep halfway through whatever film you finally agree on. You wake to the sound of next door’s fireworks (fucking selfish bastards) and screaming kids. Happy New Year!
BC If you are single you probably hate the world. If you are in a couple you will have a romantic meal, get a bit tiddly and shag like rabbits.
AC You buy each other a card, and possibly your child(ren) (if you are one of those people, I’m not judging you – I am…). You put the kids to bed early and open a bottle of fizz – see New Years Eve for the rest. Absolutely no “fireworks” for anyone, we all know what happened last time.
BC Easter was one of my favourite holidays. It was usually warm enough to sit in a pub garden and that is where you could find me from the evening before Good Friday to Easter Monday. I could give no shits about chocolate. It was all about the four day bender.
AC You go to a National Trust Egg hunt and resent the amount of chocolate your child receives. That is all.
BC Birthdays are spent being self indulgent. Doing what you love with who you love
AC You fucked it. Forget ever being self indulgent again. I don’t want to hear “they move out eventually” I am a forty one year old woman and still consider moving back home from time to time.
BC Similar to New Years Eve, if you are single you’ll be dressed in something slutty (if you are a woman, or maybe even if not. Whatever floats your boat) in the hope to entice the werewolf from across the bar. The werewolf cops off with someone else so you opt for Frankenstein’s Monster instead. Happy days!
AC You trawl the streets under cover of darkness begging for sweets from strangers. It’s fine. It’s all fine.
BC Singletons unite! Get dressed up and hope to god you get to kiss a fitty under the mistletoe. Whatever happens you can just get shitfaced and hope to God you are in a fit state to face great aunt Maud over dinner the next day. That’s if you make it home at all… You wake with a stonking hangover, but it’s fine because you have Bucks Fizz for breakfast (the drink, not the band)
AC You spend months gathering and hiding presents only for them to be discovered – ungrateful shits. Then there is the “must have” toy. Oh great, if life wasn’t hard enough. You’ve heard there’s stock in an Asda 20 miles away so you chuck your coat on over your pyjamas and head off, only to discover it sold out 20 minutes earlier.
For reasons best known to other parents only ONE of the grottos in a 20 mile radius is worth going to (this is bollocks by the way – don’t waste your valuable time). F5 and swiping down becomes your friend. You don’t get tickets. Fuck it all! The kids don’t give a shit anyway, Father Christmas is Father Christmas whether you paid £50 or £2.50. If your kids think any differently they need a long talking to.
Can you tell I miss my life Before Children. It was quite good fun but I wouldn’t my life now for the world…
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