Once a week, Dexter’s nan comes to our house and whisks him off on an adventure. He’s been to restaurants, to parks, to playgroups… you name it! He’s incredibly lucky to have such great grandparents who live so close and enjoy his company. Every time he comes home he’s utterly exhausted and has a two-hour nap. All told, on these days, I have at least 7 hours to myself.
Okay Dexter’s hardly a newborn, and I haven’t had to contend with a nightfeed for 8 months now, but it’s still the most amazing feeling to be child-free for a few hours. There’s no trail of carnage to tidy up, no fighting over my iPhone, no baked beans to pick off the floor… it’s truly blissful.
It’s a great opportunity to catch up on some of my favourite blogs, pop out and get my haircut, or have a few sneaky online bingo games. But what did this idiot mummy get up to yesterday? I hit the wine rack like a naughty schoolgirl!
It was such a beautiful day and I was finally getting around to tweezing out the zillions of catkin seeds that have taken over my planters. Sat in such intense heat and having to do such a messy and fiddly task, an ice-cold glass of Chardonnay seemed like a really good idea. In fact, if you had asked me at 3pm yesterday, it was a really good idea. I managed to clear three full planters and my flowers never looked so perky.
But in reality, I was focusing so much on the job, I didn’t notice that my bottle to glass ratio had slipped into the danger zone. When I absent-mindedly went for a top up and managed only a pathetic dribble, it was simply too late. I’d drank the whole bottle in a matter of hours, under the full glare of the midday sun. Worse still, I’m on a diet so all I had in my stomach to soak up the alcohol was a handful of grapes and an Ainsley Harriet cup-a-soup.
By the time Dexter was returned to me, I was slightly wobbly. Luckily he went for a nap and Craig was home by the time he woke up. I spent the evening upstairs watching the same episode of Lost on repeat as I was too messy to understand what I was seeing. In fact my only contribution to parenting that evening was changing a dirty nappy before bed. I didn’t even manage that right…
Plucking Dexter out of bed this morning with a hangover I noticed that both he and his bedding were soaked through. It seems I had passed him over to Craig for teeth brushing and bedtime, sans nappy. My poor little guy had had his nightly wee wee’s in his pyjama bottoms and the puddle had inevitably spread from mid section to feet where all his teddies stand on sentry duty whilst he sleeps. Watching his sock monkeys spin around in the washing machine this morning, poor Dexter looked so confused.
Needless to say I’m a sheepish mummy today…
I wouldn’t EVER advocate drunk parenting, but have you ever accidentally had a tipple too many when in charge of your tot? I’m currently in Craig’s bad books, with a stinking hangover and a Kool n Sooth patch slapped across my forehead. I’m close to calling child protective services on myself.
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