Friday Christmas drinks: Working parent vs stay at home parent

Having chosen to be a SAHM comes with it’s perks. There’s the obvious (no work? or is that cherished moments with the kids – you decide), alongside the coffee mornings, the child free nursery mornings, the ability to pursue new career avenues, the flexibility…but every now and then a big fat downer comes along and slaps you right in the face.

Given it’s the season to be jolly, this goes hand in hand with a splattering of social events; work do’s, lunches, girls nights out, office drinks, and so on – you know the score.

And I’ve noticed one critical factor in the ability to embrace these social soirees to their full due to some pretty major differences between the working parent, and the stay at home parent. They go something like this.

The working parent (in our case, him):

Prep is wearing something a little special to the office. toiling through a day’s work then walking straight to the pub at five. Drink away the stresses of the day. Have your fill, grab the train home, fall into bed.

The stay at home parent (in our case, her):

It’s essentially a regular day at the hub. School run, nursery run, breakfast stop, Aldi trip, nursery run, lunch, playdate, school run. Quick tea for one, dash to gymnastics, home, make tea for the other, back to gymnastics, home, bath kids, grab a shower, blow dry hair and slap on make up whilst Daddy wrestles kids to bed (whilst they scream out for Mummy, or worst still come to give her a hand in her make over). Take pity on Dads efforts to appease two kids, so offer to help read to kids and settle them to bed. All ready, sit and wait for the rest of the girls to arrive, which is inevitably getting on for 8:30 due to everyone else needing to sort out and settle their kids, cook tea, wait for Dad or babysitter to arrive and hold the fort.

Pouring a G&T whilst waiting for the cab seems sensible to prevent falling asleep on the sofa, whilst you wonder if you’re even arsed about going out after all?

BEEP. Cab arrives. Head to pub, drink more wine than you ever planned to, stumble in the door and spend all of the next day wishing you hadn’t hit it so hard.

But after all that rigmarole of making it happen, sometimes it’d be a waste not to, right?


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