The Mummy Diaries: One baby, one threenager – Week 10

The Mummy Diaries: One baby, one threenager – Week 10

by Emma Hargan
article from Wednesday 9, October, 2019

JUST ANOTHER NORMAL WEEK but with one exception – Mummy gets away for the weekend! And we’re not talking about just any weekend. This is a special trip. We were getting organised to go to London for my friend Annie’s hen party. Excited? Much!


We have been planning for this weekend since April and to say I was a tad excited would be a slight understatement. The prospect of spending a whole three days without a little human hanging off my leg, or having shower schizophrenia (when I think I hear a small child crying while I’m in the shower) or not rowing with anyone over the importance of wearing clothes and not flashing at the neighbours was something I was looking forward to.

In the final weeks running up to the hen weekend, the final arrangements were being put in place and we all had our flights and hotel booked, along with the request of our outfits for the Saturday night. This included black trousers, white shirt, dickie bows and braces and we each got to choose what colour we wanted. Mine was easy. Being the only Scottish person going, I decided I would go for tartan – sorted! Good old Amazon to the rescue and my dickie bow and braces arrived within a couple of days.

So, with my outfits organised and everything that needed to be booked done and dusted, all that was left to do was sort the husband and the two babies. And you all know me by now – lists, lists and more lists!

List 1 – Food (A step by step list of what to feed the kids for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And then where to find it in the fridge and freezer.)

List 2 – How to work the microwave (Yes, I know, I have to explain this!)

List 3 – Emergency numbers (Doctors, hospital and the chip shop)

List 4 – Medicine (A comprehensive guide to finding Calpol and Nurofen and how and when to consume)

I think by this point I had exhausted every possible situation and had it covered, although judging by the look on James face when I showed him, I would have had more chance of running off with Channing Tatum in London than James actually following any of my lists, but it made me feel better.

And then Friday morning arrived! I was excited but a little nervous as I only knew two of the girls going out of the group, but I knew once we had arrived, got chatting and had a couple (or several) drinks, we’d all relax and enjoy the weekend. I was also nervous about leaving Daddy Day Care and the kids for a couple of days. With all the organisation, I actually couldn’t care how many takeaways or how much sugar they would consume or who’s hair hadn’t been brushed, as long as they were happy and well.

James and the kids drove me down to meet the girls before we headed off to the airport. I gave Jamie, Lily and James a kiss and jumped out of the car in probably the most ‘unmumsy’ way possible – as fast as I could. Not because I couldn’t wait to get away you understand, but because I didn’t want to upset the kids before I left. Uh hem!

And we were off! There were only five of us travelling to the airport as the rest of the group were making their way to London by train or flying from a different airport. Annie (The Hen), Sarah (Annie’s Maid of Honour), Louise (Annie’s future sister-in-law), Georgie (One of Annie’s best buds) and me. Straight away we all just clicked and the banter and laughs we had just in the car was great fun. The hen weekend was kicked off when Sarah then told us that she was going to have to pull the car over and stop as there was something wrong with the turbo.

Fox ache! I don’t know how to blow a wheel up, let alone when anything else goes wrong!

Sarah then jumped out of car and surprised us all by producing a basket of sandwiches, scones and bottles of Prosecco – nice!! First wind up of the weekend. I was going to get along with her rightly!

After our wee picnic, we set off again for the airport and made it with plenty time to spare. Poor Georgie was the only one that had booked a case so naturally, we all piled our make-up, toiletries, hair straighteners and hair dryers into it to save messing about with bags at the security bit. So into the airport, Georgie’s bag checked in, through security and nothing else for it then – hit the bar until our gate was called.

A few drinks, laughs and some photos with random people who realised we were on a hen weekend later, we were on our way to London.

Straight away it was manic! We had to catch a train to take us from the airport into the city and I don’t think I’ve seen so many people jammed into one place before in my life. When we arrived into the city, the place was buzzing and I was fed up at saying excuse me and apologising to people that we bumped into. The people would have just walked straight over the top of you if you let them. They weren’t trying to be rude, it was just the way it was. If you weren’t fast – you were last. It was a far cry from where we were from. I mean, some days I don’t see anyone walk past the front of our street and we’d be lucky to have even a bus service!

On arriving at the hotel, we got checked in and met up with the rest of the group before going to get ready for heading out. I then met Maxine (Mother Hen), Amy and Aoife (Annie’s sisters), Sinead (Annie’s brothers’ girlfriend), and Grace (Annie’s sister-in-law).

And what a weekend we had.

Friday night – Dinner at The Ivy (pictured). Drinks back at the hotel bar.

Saturday – The London Eye, then a surprise speedboat trip along the Thames, followed by a long lunch on a boat on the Thames. Then back to the hotel to get ready for going out.

Saturday night – A booze cruise on the Thames dressed up in our suits, dickie bows and braces. Four hours of solid dancing and drinks. Then onto Pop World for more (for those who could still walk!)

Sunday morning – dying.

Sunday afternoon – Check out, say our goodbyes, MacDonald’s, airport, home.

Throughout the whole weekend, I was texting James and ringing him to make sure they were all okay and surviving! I would send him long texts, telling him where we were going, asking how the kids were, if they were behaving and well? Was he coping with dinners etc. And what do I get back?

“All grand here.” That’s it.

My personal experience? I’ve discovered that I am actually the best dancer – EVER! After a couple of pints of Guinness, Michael Jackson would not have had a look in. I actually laughed so hard on the speedboat that I was crying and nearly wet myself! I made it through a weekend of drinking without making a total fool of myself until the last day when I was actually sober and fell arse over tit at the train station. I tripped on my boot laces! Oh yes, a hen weekend wouldn’t be a hen weekend without bruises would it?

Now a hen party wouldn’t be a hen party without the odd stumble, drunken phone calls to partners back home, Georgie’s dirty dancing, a drop or two of alcohol, a speedboat ride to the Baywatch theme tune (along with others!) and one of us getting chatted up by a lesbian because we were dressed up in dickie bows and braces. I couldn’t possibly say which one of us that was, Louise!

On arriving home, I couldn’t wait to see the kids and James. It had only been three days but I was missing them and was anxious to hear how they all got on. James arrived in the car with the kids to collect me and what a welcome I got!  They were both in their pj’s ready for bed. I was so happy to hear all had gone so well but the biggest surprise I got was when we got home. I walked in, and the house had been tidied and hoovered. There was even a bottle of wine sitting for me on the kitchen table! Smooth James – Smooth!! I think I was missed a little bit.

I can’t believe it’s over now, it went so quickly but I can honestly say what a great bunch of lovely people and I have definitely made some new friends. We now have Annie and Liam’s big day to look forward too now and I am even more excited to meet up with all the hen’s again!

These are just some of the highlights of the weekend, but of course, what goes on in London stays in London, right girls?

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