Parties with a Passenger

I think it’s fair to say that I enjoyed a good night out back in the day. On one university field trip I got the blame for pretty much everything that went on, purely on the basis that I was a member of the rugby team so it must be my fault (I won’t state here if that was fair or not)!

Our Bride-to-be, who said Brummies weren’t classy!
Unsurprisingly things are rather different these days, the knowledge that you will be woken up at 6am by a loud and energy filled toddler turns out to be the thing that finally makes those “I’m never getting drunk again” vows stick and it seems that some child-free friends just assume you’re never going to go out again anyway, so don’t bother asking. Being pregnant again doesn’t really help matters either so I was somewhat daunted by the idea of a hen weekend  which was to include a burlesque dancing class and *gulp* a night club.
As it turned out it was all fine, actually it was really good. I did feel faintly distinctly ridiculous tottering about to “Diamonds are a girls best friend” in my highest heals and a feather boa (and plenty of other clothes I hasten to add) but frankly a 6 foot women in 4 inch heals she’s only worn once before (and then only to sit down) was never going to have Dita Von-Tease trembling in her Martini glass! Besides this was all being done with some of my best friends, and uni flatmates at that, so it’s probably not the worst state they’ve all seen me in! 
Look who we found at Breakfast!
(only strictly fans will get this)
I was also rather pleased to still be on the dance floor at almost 1am that night. Although as it started to get busy I was more defencive than ever of my personal dance space, not wanting my passenger to get clobbered (in that respect being 6 foot and having elbows at most peoples chest height it a benefit). When I did give up, instead of heading for a curry then tottering back to our vile student digs, I and a similarly pregnant friend got a nice civilised cab to our very pleasant hotel for a good cup of tea!
E “helps” get the BBQ ready
(she plays drums on it)
Last week was also my birthday (no I’m not saying which one!). When we moved into this house we identified a spot in the garden that would be perfect for sitting around the BBQ and celebrating but it hadn’t yet happened. This is now my third birthday here and on both the previous ones I’ve had to flee, with E,  to my parents place, as something major and messy was falling/being pulled down at ours. This year, at last, we are hopefully (touch wood, fingers crossed) structurally sound! So with a brief break in the hideous weather we lit the BBQ, got a few friends round and popped open some bottles of fizz (for me to watch them all drink)! 

So no 3am curry, no waking up having managed to remove only one shoe but good times non the less. Quite what Smidge2 made of a his/her first trip to a dance floor I’ll never know I hope s/he enjoyed it as much as mummy!
More help – blowing out my candles….

…and helping me eat the cake of course
I may be a very good girl now, but I did give the groom-to-be a cheeky snog!

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