I’m 29 in just over a month and the only clock that has started ticking isn’t my biological one, but the one that says time is running out to earn 30k at 30 and to finally bag that Chanel 2.55 as a reward.
While I’m counting down the days to summer in San Francisco, an ever growing number of friends are counting the days until the next Frozen themed birthday party at Charlie Chalks (jokes. Even actual parents hate that shit) Am I sad? Nope. Gutted to be missing out? Definitely not. Sobbing into my ageing ovaries? Never.
But there is something about being the only friend in your whole social circle to not yet have children that opens up some sad, sorry realisations. Suddenly it hits you…
‘Drinks at ours’ is no longer code for ‘pre-drinks before we all get pissed and think sod it, let’s go out’
Parents know there’s nothing more soul-destroying than the heady combination of hangover and baby. Drinks at home are easier to regulate – no fit barman convincing you to do a couple more Jaegers, no downing bottles of wine because it’s time to move on to the next pub and no genius 3am plans to take the party back to yours.
Get used to ‘drinks at ours’ meaning just that…and being seen as a leper when you have one too many and dare to suggest venturing into town.
Christmas will never be the same again
Say goodbye to questionable mistletoe snogs, Christmas Eve piss ups and hanging Christmas mornings. Say hello to your overdraft; 13 nieces and nephews + 4 godchildren x £10 per child = financial ruin and a January leaner than Tara Reid.
Having a baby changes people and before you know it, your last ‘Sod that, I’m not popping one out anytime soon’ ally is all of a sudden throwing a ‘Tick-tock, biological clock’ curveball into conversation halfway round Topshop.
Comparing children to dogs is never okay
Never, I repeat never, say the words ‘I’ve obviously not got children but I’ve got two dogs and that’s kind of the same thing’. To friends with kids it absolutely is not the same thing and they think you’re comparing their sweet darling bambinos to your stinking hounds. Yes, your dogs are your babies; your friend’s dog was their baby too…until they had an actual human baby.
‘I’m so bored, I think I might die’ text messages will never again generate spontaneous plans
We’ve all been there; Saturday night, watching the backcombed dregs of humanity on Take Me Out and feeling like you might spontaneously combust in a cloud of boredom and Indian takeaway. A year ago you’d grab your phone and be in a wine bar within the hour. These days your ‘So bored I might die’ texts are met with responses of ‘Me too, breastfeeding atm. Txt u later’ or ‘Thought you’d be out chick’.
I’m not out, I’m in. Because all of my friends are breastfeeding atm.