Hungover with kids (Or, Please Please Just Kill Me Now).

My husband and I had a rare night off for a friend’s wedding this weekend. Since our amazing babysitter (my Mum, unequivocal legend and child-whisperer extraordinaire) was available to stay overnight, we decided to make a weekend of it and spent nearly 24 hours child-free in total. We drank champagne, we ate, we drank champagne, we danced, we drank champagne, we laughed, we drank champagne. We considered going to bed at 10pm just for the possibility of getting ten unbroken hours of precious sleep, but were having such a good time being grown-ups with our friends we just kept on going. We knew the kids were OK, as they were with Nan and we’d left her with detailed instructions for bedtime – we didn’t have a care in the world.

Excruciatingly detailed instructions, which failed to mention where to find the baby monitor or how to work it. But they survived.
Excruciatingly detailed instructions, which failed to mention where to find the baby monitor or how to work it. But they survived.

This morning: a ‘sleep-in’ until 7am (after which point neither of us is physically capable of sleeping anymore thanks to our permanently-adjusted body-clocks). A subdued bacon breakfast with sips of water and a strong coffee. And then the drive home, during which I for one completed the transition from ‘still a little tipsy, maybe’ to ‘yes, that’s definitely hungover now’. Nan’s report was that the children had been delightful and had slept 12 hours overnight without a peep. So we were optimistic that we’d be able to engage them in some quiet activities once we got home, and hopefully sneak in a nap around midday to aid in our recovery.


These are the sorts of activities a hungover parent would like their child to take an interest in for just one day:

  • Lego.
  • Puzzles.
  • Dollies and dress-ups.
  • Watching a movie.
  • Drawing.
  • Playdough.
  • Reading quietly in own rooms.

These are the activities that my children were interested in today:

  • Smackdown wrestling.
  • Playing the harmonica.
  • Playing the bongos.
  • Playing the harmonica and bongos simultaneously while listening to the Beach Boys.
  • Licking things. Not to taste them. Just to have licked them.
  • Bouncing on the trampoline. But only if a parent bounces too.
  • Relieving themselves of noxious gases in my vicinity without warning or apology.
  • ‘Playing some vacuum-cleaner’.
  • Eating playdough.
  • Racing slot cars, having conned Nan into setting the forbidden racetrack up within seconds of our departure yesterday. Constant adult input required: prevent toddler from destroying track, fiddly repairs to track and cars, mediation in case of (frequent) disputes.
  • Hurting themselves and each other. Crying.
The forbidden slot car track, complete with legions of fans who have gathered to watch the big race.
The forbidden slot car track, complete with legions of fans who have gathered to watch the big race.

Never have I more feverishly anticipated bedtime than today. I actually lied to my children about what time it was so I could put them down half an hour earlier than usual. I’m amazed that I had the presence of mind to a) think of doing that, and b) pull it off convincingly enough that they went along with it. Normally I’d be saying I could use a wine about now… but not today. It’s off to bed for me, with a reminder to my childless friends to appreciate your childless hangovers. Yes, even the hangovers are something I didn’t enjoy enough before I had kids, as it turns out. Fortunately the hangovers are few and far between these days. And they’ve still got nothing on morning sickness: a timely reminder for me that we’re definitely done having children. If anyone needs me, I’ll be hiding under my doona. Good night!

Friday Frolics

21 thoughts on “Hungover with kids (Or, Please Please Just Kill Me Now).

    1. Ha! Thank you. You know, I’ve published several earnest essays I was quite proud of recently, with little acclaim. I bash out a quick whinge about being hungover and my stats are booming. Guess I’ve found my niche?!


    1. I don’t generally get hangovers either, because I don’t drink in excess anymore. In fact, I really think yesterday’s seediness was mostly just fatigue from all that dancing and staying awake and stuff. Right?!


  1. There is literally, literally, nothing worse than a hangover with kids! Awful – I really feel your pain. I look back fondly now on hangovers pre-kids where I could just lay around all day moaning and being sick, then maybe feel ‘well enough’ for a Mcdonalds that night. What a spoilt cow. Glad you had a good night though!


  2. Good one! I remember a few years ago, my in-laws gave us tickets to a New Years Eve bash and offered to babysit our two boys (1 and 4 at the time). We were out until 3 am and highly inebriated. Needless to say, 6 am came very quickly and it hasn’t happened since! I feel your pain.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. As a Dad of two, 1 10yr old boy and 1 5yr old psychopathic girl. I understand and feel your pain. My little darlings have the uncanny knack of knowing when I have a headache (of any kind) and choose that point to have a row about sod all!
    However this did cheer me up and made me laugh so thank you

    Liked by 1 person

  4. My problem is that both grammies think that by keeping the mini up late, she will let us sleep in the following morning. Instead we just get a day of a whining mess to go with our being whining messes

    Liked by 1 person

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