Day 110. Only two and a half weeks until the end of the school year and it's all gone crazy.
With 3 children at London Prep Schools, the schedule for the next 19 days includes 2 sports days, 2 prize givings, 3 class socials, bake sales, home made costume days...you get the picture.
Last year all of this would have been accompanied by, approximately, nineteen bottles of vino.
On top of all the school related stuff, everyone tries to squeeze in social events before London empties out for the summer.
All the wives and children (apart from us) head off in early July for their second homes in Ibiza, Tuscany, Sardinia or the Cotswolds for seven weeks, leaving the husbands free to shag their PA with less risk of getting caught.
Last night we went to a big drinks party, filled with lots of people we hadn't seen for ages. I had two virgin mojitos which looked and tasted just like the real thing, and had a blast.
At least 4 or 5 people commented on how great I looked. I kept being asked if I'd been on holiday, and the women kept looking at me quizzically, checking for signs of botox or other 'work'.
I was, several people said, looking 5 years younger. One old friend (he was, admittedly, rather drunk) even said 'ten years younger' but then ruined it by adding 'you were looking rather old.'
I studied myself up close in the mirror, and it's true. My face is less puffy - I have a jawline for the first time in years. I have far fewer lines, and my skin is all plump and rosy. Plus I have white, shiny eyes. I'm still not Renee Zellweger, but even Renee Zellweger isn't Renee Zellweger these days.
So, there you have it, sober is the new botox. But it's cheaper, and you can still raise your eyebrows. What's not to like?
At eleven pm, when the room had already emptied out a fair bit, I left the husband going strong and drove home.
Now, there's one thing even better than waking up without a hangover, and that's waking up next to someone with a hangover. Obviously, I wouldn't wish any ill on the long suffering husband, but he was a fabulous reminder this morning of what I'm missing.
Our bedroom smelt like a brewery, and his breath could pickle an onion at twenty paces. He was bloodshot, puffy and grumpy. He must be having the day from hell. And I felt great! Which is just as well because today was #3's sports day....
I thought back to one of #1's sports days about 4 years ago. We'd been out late the night before. I woke up with a chronic hangover.
I packed the picnic for the traditional parents/kids lunch which follows the event, and included a bottle of white wine (which I'd decided was the only way to cure the headache).
Somehow I managed to get through all the endless egg and spoons, beanbags on heads etc, while corralling a toddler, small baby and dog. Then we all gathered for the picnic and I realised quite quickly that no-one else had packed any alcohol.
Undeterred, I brandished my bottle of wine and was faced with a dilemma: I desperately wanted other people to join me so I didn't look like a terrible lush (which I was, obviously), BUT I didn't want so many to join in that I was only left with a small glass myself. I was simultaneously pushing and hoarding, and finding it all horribly stressful.
Plus, the refusals made me feel terribly guilty. They'd say things like "No thanks, I drank far too much last night!" (me too). "Thanks, but I'm driving." (me too). "I've got too much to do this afternoon." (and me). "Really shouldn't, I'm out this evening." (yup, so am I).
But today, hangover free, sports day went swimmingly, except for the terrier peeing on one of the kit bags and running off with a child's sandwich.
And it's Friday!
Have a great weekend, everyone.