"I'm a mum of six, and this is why I'm boycotting New Year's Eve."

I’m skipping New Years.

‘What are you doing for New Years?’

I love it when people ask me this question.

Well it’s a bloody Sunday Susan so I suppose we’ll just do what we do every Sunday and do some gardening and then watch some TV before bed.

And maybe we’ll buy an extra large pack of sparklers – that we’ll forget to set off until next year.

Let’s just get real.

Easter hunts – a blast.

Christmas morning – sensational!

Birthdays – hit and miss.

But New Year’s Eve?

We have six tiny devil people that after eight pm turn into little predators of the night, so the thought of taking them out in public; around people; seems a bit bat shit crazy.

And I need a damn break.

Christmas was a blast but god it’s hard work but then you want us mums to pick up where left off seven days later and organise some other occasion?

Piss off mate.

And as much as I’d love to post a beach selfie of our family and write some rubbish underneath like “bringing in 2018 with my favorites and the ocean,” my photos of lies can f**k right off.

I really don’t feel the need to do a headcount every 48 seconds, while I’m bellowing at Dave on a busy beach, “Where’s Sylus, where the f is Sylus?” only to find he’s found another family he likes better than us and we’re not needed anymore.

Or try and work out a plan for Emerson (our one year old) who’s plan is and will always be “eat all the sand and rocks and seaweed”.

And then the heat. Lets talk about Australian heat on New Year’s Eve.

Listen: What is the mental load of parenting? Post continues after audio.

Well it’s terrible. It’s make me sweat in places I’ve only seen when I’ve accidentally bent over in front of a mirror; after a shower.

And you know what heat? Just no.

And I never know what to wear because I want to “embrace my curves” but I also don’t want to scare small children. So then I end up wearing “layers”.

It’s 42 degrees Krechelle; take your f**king kimono off.

You know what else team?!

New Years “eve”.

Its held in the “eve”.

I just wanted to reiterate that.

It’s all through out the EVE.

And I don’t want to do anything in the eve.

Except for eat chocolate and drink wine in my onesie. That I bought because my one year old always looks so damn comfortable in hers and one day, I got jealous.

And I don’t want to freak you out.

But there are… people out there.

And on New Year’s Eve – it’s the best of the best.

Real life people.

And they smile and are loud and around and on New Years eve….. they are around; f**king everywhere. With their f**king smiling.

So to answer your question; plain and simply.

What are we doing this New Year’s Eve?

NOTHING!

Absolutely nothing.

The children will go to bed at appropriate o’clock and Dave and I will fall asleep on the couch at 10 o’clock and then we’ll wake up it will be 2018.

And I’ll start it how I start every year; with the best of intentions, a green smoothie that tastes like lawn cuttings and makes me shit my pants.

Yay!

Get excited.

It’s coming up.

A day they’ve decided turns into a new year, where life continues.

And nothing changes.

Happy f**king New Years.

X

This was first published by EightAtHome. Read the original here.

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