Not out, out out. Going out refers to a glass of wine with a friend in your local. Or a meal with your partner on ‘date night’. Cinema maybe. Something chilled. Jeans and a nice top territory.
Out out is a whole different ball game. Out out is something special. Pre children, it just meant the weekend but now, it’s an event that is marked on your calendar months in advance. Anticipated, baby sitter booked for, planned in, discussed at the school gates.
Tonight, I am going out out. However, my husband is away this weekend and so I am having to do all of my prep with a 5 and a 3 year old in tow.
Let me talk you through it. Being very organised, I decided on a dress in my head a couple of days ago but only got round to trying it on this morning. There is a problem. I’ve been on bit of a, (now sliding!), fit kick and I’ve lost some weight. The dress is slightly on the baggy side. Also, it requires a strapless bra. I do not possess a strapless bra. The times I actually need one are so few and far between that I only remember I need one the next time I desperately need one and realise I don’t have one.
We had a party this morning and I’d worked out that there was just enough time to get over to the retail park before it started at 10.am. After all, we were up at 6.15 this morning so plenty of time. I decided to get the kids breakfast out. After all, we have a baby sitter coming and so anything I can do to make the house less messy is a huge bonus!
We also needed a present for the morning party so I decided to go to a well known supermarket first to tick the first two items off my list. Unfortunately, they had their well known 25% off sale on and I manage to spend far too much time in there getting all the sunhats and sunglasses I need for the kids. I also managed to buy myself two items, whoop, maybe I’ll be a less dishevelled Summer Mumma this year. (On 1 day of the 6 weeks anyway!)
A quick time check after this distraction made me realise we were now cutting it fine. Gah! I hustled the kids to a clothes store and hastily grabbed a few bras in a total guestimation of what my size may be. I literally have no clue. When did I last get a proper measure?? It must be post maternity bras, surely?! Zooming into the changing room, I performed a lightning try on, with double, very loud commentary on how babies drink milk and which bit the milk comes out of and also some poking. Then a war raged over the sitting rights on the tiny pouf seat, with copious insults thrown about the size of the sittees bums. There is now definite giggling from the changing room next door! I am totally stressed by the time I determine that I cannot justify buying £26 worth of bras that don’t even fit in one place, never mind all over! Mission failed.
I’d promised a trip to see the animals in the pet shop, as we needed cat litter desperately, (oh the glam life of the blogger hey?!), and whilst there, my daughter picks up a very anatomically detailed leaflet about ‘sexing your small animal’. For the next half an hour, I endured endless questions and a picture of a rat penis thrust into my face repeatedly.
We made it to the party, and all was lovely but now I’m home again and still bra-less and totally unsure about how I’m going to fix this. I had already decided to use double sided sticky tape to keep the dress itself up. Maybe I can wrap my entire upper body in tape and just stick myself into the dress thereby solving all problems! That surely can’t go wrong in any way right?! 😀
Or more likely, change dress. But then it’s a shoe change. And I am already torn between wedges and close toes, but wedges require toe painting and some
hours of foot maintenance so possibly not. Plus in true British form, it’s going to pour with rain because we had a couple of nice weather days this week and of course we must be punished!! Either way, the shoes I do choose will be so stuffed with gel ‘cushions’, (pah!), that I will struggle to get my feet in and they will still feel as if I caught my foot in a bear trap after about 15 minutes of wearing!
I also need to paint my nails, do something with my hair which is massively overdue a cut and it therefore impossible to work with, plus get some flicky wings fairly equal on both eyes, walk the dog, feed, wash and pyjama the kids and get into the party spirit. As I am currently sat writing this, it’s not looking promising is it?! 😀
I was also on cake duty and it was a disaster! I mean, I always make the kids’ cakes and it’s always stressful, but this was on another level! Everything that could go wrong absolutely did and the top layer ended up spitting into quarters. This has never happened to me before and so typical when the pressure was firmly on. I seriously debated finding someone to make it for me but knowing how much cakes cost, I persevered and glued the sodding thing back together with about 3 packs worth of butter icing. There were some swears, a few howls of anguish and I’m not convinced it won’t be raw in parts but it looks ok from the outside and I shall just have to buy the entire party a shot right before it comes out. With hindsight, buying a new cake may well have been cheaper! 😉
So, if you see me out tonight, tottering on unfamiliar heels, dress taped on, nails slightly chipped and hair askew, feel sorry for me, not for my dishevelled appearance, oh no, but because with hubster away, tomorrow means I shall be parenting solo. Heeeeelp!
Post Script: Because I’m guessing you’re dying to know how it all turned out! Shortly after I wrote this, a phone call to my friend revealed that she was wearing jeans! Smart jeans but jeans nonetheless. I hadn’t even considered this a possibility, the relief was boundless. And shortlived as I remembered the large streaks of mud down my ‘good jeans’ from the wormery making the day before. Ahhh. A long, fraught rummage unearthed some black trousers that I’d bought for a work thing years before. I paired it with the top I’d bought on the 2 item ‘haul’ earlier, (must have been fate!), and some killer, (almost literally, damn pavements!), heels, a matching(!) bag and straightened hair and fancy eye make up. I actually felt a little like a grown up! 🙂 (I can only apologise for my expressions in the following photos. I didn’t have enough time for the requisite 20 photos required to get a ‘normal’ face!!)
Post Post Script: The cake! It was bizarrely absolutely fine. Plus everyone was pretty hammered by the time it was cut so they wouldn’t really have known anyway! 😀 (FYI if you know me in real life, purlease don’t ask me to make you a cake for a major party! 😉 )