As a new parent there's endless milestones in the early weeks and months. I remember fondly the first time I successfully did the dishes while The Baby snoozed in his sling, I felt proper, like a real, professional parent. And the first time I managed to get The Baby to nap ANYWHERE other than on me. Result.
During the first bewildering weeks I didn't give much thought to the world outside. It was the depths of January and I couldn't imagine ever stepping foot outside the door again. I was hibernating with my squaking little baba who weirdly felt more like my twin than my son.
Eventually, however, I felt old familiar feelings stirring inside. An urge to eat a meal sitting down with a knife and fork. An urge to take off the leggings that felt as though they were grafted to me at this point. An urge to go OUT.
When I did eventually get out there it was a whole new world quite different to what I expected...
Expectation: I'm going to get the hair done and really make an effort to look really, really good.
Reality: Despite feverish planning and the best of intentions you will still find yourself with ten minutes to go frantically trying on all your prepregnancy clothes to find something, anything that will fit over your new jumbo tits and hide the fact that you sort of still look pregnant. Inevitably someone will ask you when the baby's due. The best response is to order more wine or, if nursing, squirt them in the eye.
Expectation: We're parents now, we're just going to take it easy and have a grown up night on the town.
Reality: You will be having a night on the sauce, is what you'll be having. You may well be the drunkest people in the world but know this, as new parents just let out for the first time, you will get away with murder. The Man and I basically ruined a wedding with our grotesque dancing. Onlookers were disgusted with us until word went round that we were new parents. Their tune totally changed and it was all "aren't they great to be out, look at them there functioning, lovin' life they are!". Be warned, there's a time limit on this type of behaviour. Come child Two and Three nobody will be impressed with you trotting out the routine from Dirty Dancing while the older children watch, weeping, on the side of the dancefloor because they're so tired and want to go home.
Expectation: This date will help me feel like me again.
Reality: Yes it will, if the prelude to all your previous dates involved taking down the front of your fancy dress to breastfeed a hungry child right before going out the door.
Expectation: I'm NOT going to drink too much, the hangover with a baby is just so not worth it.
Reality: Anyone out there who hasn't found themselves attached to a breast pump at three in the morning while eating curry chips has more class than me.
Expectation: This is so nice we should do this more often.
Reality: It is nice to spend time together...but you know what is even nicer once you've become a parent? Time ALONE, alone with YOURSELF. Not holding anyone's hand. Not wiping anyone's arse. Just enjoying a bit of time alone to think about you and your needs. Bliss.
Expectation: I can't imagine being away from the baby for three whole hours?! We'll probably be back early.
Reality: Oh my god wine is so, so good. Let's never go back there.
Conversely....
Expectation: So looking forward to getting away from the baby for a few hours.
Reality: If you two aren't looking at pictures of the baby on the phone by main course I'll eat my hat.
