So I booked tickets to Mums’ Night Out a while back; before my dabble into blogging I was a huge fan of Gi and I’ve read all her books and followed her blog since the beginning. I found out I was pregnant the day Buzz was born so it’s been nice to read her stuff and see what I had to come. I’m aware how fan-girl that sounds, no fucks given.
I started following Sarah AKA The Unmumsy Mum from quite early on too, at a time when there wasn’t really any mum bloggers and I really loved her posts – so relatable and funny and they got me through many a night feed. That awkward moment the baby has fallen asleep and long finished a feed and you didn’t realise because you were too busy reading. I hope I’m not alone on that.
Last night I went to London-town, on a school night, minus the small person.
I felt proper naughty and like I was living some majorly exciting life, I could sit in peace and eat my M&S pasta salad on the train; I live just over an hour from London by train and I think I looked forward to the quiet time equally as much as the event.
I even honed my inner Londoner and was telling myself to act and look hard on the tube – I’m used to apologising every time I bump into someone and London is so different. I figured if I looked hard no one would mess with me and my inner anxiety that was trying to make me vomit would simmer down and go away.
I left the tube at Barbican and headed for the Barbican Centre as it said Milton Court was in it. There was no fecking signs aside from ones pointing to the Barbican and I got so lost.
After walking through the worlds longest tunnel I found about a hundred signs for the Barbican Centre.
Turns out the centre itself is huge and after wandering aimlessly into a cinema, café, art gallery, restaurant, weird tunnel foyer thing and a toilet, I found it tucked away in a corner.
I needed a
glass bottle of wine after the mission getting there.
Doors opened at 6.30pm promptly and I made my way upstairs to the bar.
I forget how expensive London is, living in my little Kentish bubble, or maybe that should be how fecking poor I am; I grabbed a couple of glasses of wine for me and Emma who was on her way.
I met the lovely Emma at the venue, we enjoyed a cheeky glass of vino and soaked up the atmosphere*.
* hundreds of mums on a rare night out, drinking and feeling like our pre-baby selves all over again. And a school night too – although as a mum every night is a school night is it not?
I was really disappointed to find that you couldn’t take any drinks into the auditorium with you apart from bottled water – you couldn’t even take drinks in a plastic container.
I’m not sure what Milton Court were expecting; I’m pretty sure a group of sleep-deprived mums weren’t going to be lobbing plastic pints of piss at the stage, and it was really disappointing that we had to pay an arm and a leg for a glass of wine to then have to neck it(not an issue for me luckily) before we could go and sit down.
Shame on you, Milton Court.
I was also really disappointed to find that Penguin were selling hardcover copies of The Unmumsy Mum Diaries and Happy Mum Happy Baby and I *think* they were signed but they were expensive I thought – this may sound a little tight of me but it would have been nice after paying for a ticket to have had a little off the books or a deal for buying both together at the event itself. I’m pinning this on the publisher and not on the lovely ladies themselves.
Maybe I’m just a little overtired and grumpy this morning, I have some serious serial-killer style PMT going on too.
Approach with caution, if you don’t have bacon or coffee, I don’t want to know you.
I digress; back to the evening anyways.
The seating was easy, it was first come first served. Comfortable seats, yada yada.
Kathryn Mewes AKA The Three Day Nanny was sat two rows in front of me, I was fan-girling.
The evening itself was great, it was lovely to hear from Gi and Sarah, and also Bryony(fucking kale) who was leading the conversation. I’m glad I’m not alone with the M&S five-pack of big knickers, it’s the future. I’ve learnt never to wear sexy knickers to a business meeting.
Nope. Not the case at all.
I appreciate I
sound like am a pisshead but as a mother, a wife and a thirty-something year old I like to think I can be trusted to sit quietly in the auditorium with a plastic pint glass filled with my favourite tipple.
But no, bottled water only. Party poopers. (Insert winking face emoji, maybe the monkey covering his eyes emoji. And defo the wine glass emoji)
All in all I had a lovely time – I didn’t queue for the meet and sign at the end, I was ready for my bed and craving a railway station-grade shitburger.
Standing on the platform at Victoria waiting for my delayed train at 11pm was not fun, I had a little inside cry(completely invisible on the outside) to myself about how tired I was and how much I would regret this when the man brat woke me up at 5/6am.
Would I buy the books? Already have.
Will I read them again? Hell yes.
Do I still love my favourite mum bloggers? DAMN STRAIGHT.
If you haven’t read the books, go forth and read them now, and if you don’t follow them already – have you been living in a cave?
Did you go? What did you think?