Mom dating.

Not for the faint hearted, I spent the first year of Oscars life just fumbling on through, I’d lost my old friends to the party single NO KIDS lifestyle. And it was time to… make new ones. Ha.

Started at playgroups, and harbeeps. Turns out, I’m not mumzy. The Chitterchatter of the mums about evening routines and when to discipline and blergh blergh blerghhh, no.. It wasn’t me. Don’t get me wrong. I tried to embrace it. This was now my lifestyle. This must be what a mom is. Drinking cups of tea, watching your language and talking about routines (routine Andrea.. There is always one.)

After realising that actually I can’t rant about my other half by saying ‘fluffing idiot’ and that quite honestly I couldn’t give a damn about milestones and routines. I set to find my lobster.

I’m talking someone who I can go round, no makeup on . doesn’t mind about alcohol before 12 (or even embraces it) , Rant with real swear words while our kids eat wotsits and watch Tangled repeatedly.

It was a long road,lots of awkward playdates, lots of watching my language, WHO SHOULD TEXT WHO FIRST… I don’t wanna be too eager… Do I take the swearing out my text. Shall I delete my no make-up selfie. Perhaps she doesn’t agree with the salt content in wotsits.i wonder if it’s a pub date or a crafty play date.

But guess bloody what, I only found two! Two mom friends. Who live near me. Who I can drink alcohol. Eat snacks. And waffle about how shit night feeds and periods and toddler attitude is. Talk about bonus.

I found my lobster.(s) dedicated to sasha and abigail who I can’t believe haven’t run away after me writing a blog post about them 😂