The Dream: You manage to get a babysitter and go out for New Years Eve! You bag tickets to a lovely local pub. There is a gang of you going. It's going to be great!
The Reality: There are no babysitters. F*ck.
The Dream: As you've known about this for a while you manage to order some really lovely NYE items from Amazon. You get some cute NYE tiaras and for the men? Some comedy glasses. It's going to look SO good on instagram!
The Reality: You half arsedly pop into Poundland and pick up some tat on the 31st. All the NYE stuff is gone so you get a bag of party poppers and a bedraggled feather boa that is meant for a hen do.
Booze in your pyjamas? Check!
The Big Day Arrives
The Dream: After dropping your children off at their grandparents you have a lovely bath with a Spotify list on named something like 'best choons of the 90's'. You start early with a bottle of bubbly and even manage to fit in a nap.
The Reality: It. Is. The. Same. As. Every. Other. Day. There is soft play involved. Your kids fight over what to watch on the tele and the only nap that is had is your son for ten minutes in the car thus making him psychotic.
The Dream: You ordered something sparkly off ASOS. And for once it fitted! Your other half has got himself a fancy shirt. You even decide to? Wear some ruddy heels!
The Reality: Around 6pm you do consider to put something a bit nice on. Then you think? Nah f*ck it and change into some 'brand new for Christmas' pyjamas.
Kids chocolates with more booze? Check!
The Dream: A five course NYE meal that comes part of the ticket at the pub. You don't remember when you managed to eat without sharing every morsel. This is heaven!
The Reality: You decide to treat yourself to a buffet of mini sausages, scotch eggs, Pringles and four selection boxes. Oh and the very last mince pie.
The Dream: Someone says something hilarious about a drinking game which you eagerly join in with! Shots all round!
The Reality: You try to play charades. You get frustrated your children don't understand the rules so you watch them fight over the Poundland feather boa for an hour.
Oh look! My booze in your pyjamas!
The Dream: Lots of it. Shots, Champers, Gin and Cocktails!
The Reality: Lots of it. Leftover Christmas Baileys and a random bottle of Aldi Cava you find at the back of the fridge. Mmmmmm.
The Dream: You and your friends all laugh and sing Auld Lang Syne. You tenderly kiss your husband remembering why you fell in love with him.
The Reality: You celebrate MIDNIGHT! at 7:30pm in a vein attempt to get the kids to bed. They eventually do at 8:30pm. You then sup warm Cava and watch a bit of NYE tele deciding to go to bed yourself at 10:30pm. You then awake at 12:01am. Not to celebrate the New Year but to sit there shaking that the f*cking fireworks may wake your kids up.
The Dream: You text your mates you love them. You think back on how great 2015 was and you dance the night away.
The Reality: You text your mates you love them. You think back on how great 2015 was and you don't exactly dance the night away but you are thankful the f*cking fireworks from your d*ck neighbours haven't woken your kids up. Yet.