Going Out, Staying In
I had a baby free night last night. I guess you could call it a date night. Me and my partner were freeeee! Baby had gone to stay overnight at my Mums house. This was the first time my Mum would have had her overnight without me being there. I was OK about leaving her there, I felt confident my Mum would be alright, but it sure felt weird driving off without her. For a start it was so much quicker getting into the car! I was ready for a night out.
The reason for our night off was that I had bought my partner tickets to see Mickey Flannagan, the comedian. I bought them in May. I nearly forgot about it, in my baby brain haze and thought we’d missed it, but no, we remembered a week before. Before bubs, this sort of thing would have been easy, and I probably wouldn’t have forgotten about it. We’d have just gone out. Now, this night involved a military precision plan: As my partners mum was away, we had to drive an hour and a bit down to my Mums to drop off Bubs. We spent a bit of time down there, settled in bubs and set up the travel cot. We then had to drive back to Brizzle, just in time to douse myself in perfume, change my top, and shoot out the door again to get something to eat.
We were knackered before we’d even gone out.
We must have looked a sight; two bedraggled late 20-something’s, both wearing the only two clean tops we could find (the ones at the bottom of the washing basket that you haven’t actually worn for 2 years and you didn’t really like it anyway as it rides up a bit showing your flabby tummy and you were actually going to take it to the charity shop but never got round to it), both wearing jeans covered in baby milk and squashed carrot sticks (and god knows what that dark stain is…) wearing trainers and old socks. I don’t think I’d brushed my hair that day. Or maybe the day before. At least I’d brushed my teeth. I think.
Anyway, we were out! Woohoo. Just like the old times (apart from chronic tiredness and aching limbs).
We went to a burger bar for dinner, surrounded by students 10 years younger than us and a couple 10 years older than us with a whiney 7 year old, who were trying to act our age. I love this burger bar, it’s fab (atomic burger if you need to know!) it’s all retro, with he-man wall paper and Star Wars figures hanging from the ceiling. It’s cool. It reminds me of my youth. Anyway, we enjoyed it, but £28 for two burgers? We started to moan about how much everything costs, the economy. Stuff that would sound relevant on Radio 4. I was starting to feel a bit old.
We drove to the venue as it was too much for a taxi (grumble grumble). On the way, a drunken woman jumps into the road, and we are inches from hitting her. Such a shock! What a crazy woman this was, she stumbles away from our car, falls onto another, then walks down the street. We used to live in this street, and agree that it’s much better where we are now away from all the drunken types, and the students.
We arrived at the venue, and finally began to relax. We bought a drink (bit pricey!) and found our seats, which are pretty good ones for once. We chatted, talked about things that we haven’t been able to as we’ve been too busy with the baby. We managed to stay awake for he whole show. Achievement! I really enjoyed it, actually. I was able to forget about everything, and laugh. I am so glad I booked comedy tickets, as it was what we both needed; to laugh and not worry for a while.
In the old days we would have gone out for a drink in town after the show. This time we’d bought a bottle of wine and it was in the fridge waiting for us when we got in. Much cheaper than going to a few pubs!
And this is what I enjoyed the most; we sat on the sofa, a throw over us, eating chocolate and drinking wine and watching crap on the TV. We didn’t have to do anything. We were free. We went to bed at about 1am! I don’t think I’d seen that time of day for a while. There was no fear of baby waking up, nothing to get up for. We could lie in.
I woke up at 8.30am. Tired, groggy, and I missed my baby.
You see at every point of our evening, I thought of bubs. I was pleased to be out, but I’d have been just as happy with her. You think you want a night off, but you don’t. Anyone who doesn’t have a baby will think you are desperate for time away, but you’re not. I could do with a few hours or so to sort the house out, and to watch breaking bad. But going out has lost a lot of appeal. Maybe I’m old but I couldnt go out clubbing anymore. I’d die of exhaustion but what I mean is, I can think of better things to do. More valuable things to do. I enjoyed my evening, don’t get me wrong, and that dose of laughter was just what I needed. But I would have liked to come home to Bubs and not an empty house. I am so grateful to my Mum for having her, and I know she had a fab time, but I didn’t realise I’d feel this way. Or that I’d feel so bloody OLD.
If I am to have a night away from Bubs, I’d rather clean up the house, have a takeaway and drink a bottle of vino in my pyjamas than venture out. That seems like true bliss to me. Gosh I really do sound old, don’t I.
I am truly a parent, truly an old lady, truly over my going ‘out out’ days, to quote Mickey Flannagan.
Staying in is the new going out, or so they say.