Its not often I have a night out, its not often I drink. I’m totally different from the majority of people my age in that respect. Perhaps it is due to being a mum, but I’m not sure. I’m naturally a very calm person and prefer to go out only on occasion rather than going out for the sake of going out. Last night was such an occasion. My sister and I met my brother off the train in the afternoon and family and friends gathered for celebration. Cake, food, and drinks at the pub which led to a night in the clubs of Liverpool. Its been so long since I last did this that it was a distant, foggy memory in the back of my mind. I forgot how much I actually enjoy it in small doses and it was good to be doing it again, with such fantastic people.
A taxi home at 4am lead to a bedtime of 5.30am and I was back up at 9.30am while everyone else slept on beds and couches and in sleeping bags on my lounge floor. I picked up J from preschool at the usual time, feeling surprisingly well. We picked up orange juice on the way home which was well received, and then had brunch in a favourite cafe.
Once everyone had left, I felt the exhaustion kicking in and the feeling reminded me of the baby days when no more than 4 hours sleep were snatched at a time, but rest would be the last thing on my list of priorities. J and I are now snuggled together in my bed still in our clothes and while he watches James and the Giant Peach, I am blog hopping. Being finally alone after a big night out always makes me feel strangely more lonely than I would usually feel sitting in on my own. Just as I was beginning to feel sorry for myself, I read this post and felt instantly better as I realised how silly I was being. I was suddenly so grateful for the calm and peaceful moment here and now, allowing myself to relax and cuddle and think of nothing else. Letting my body recover with the help of rest and orange juice and snuggles with my boy.