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Debbie Leigh: The best of times...
BRIGHT LIGHTS: The London skyline.
You know how in The Secret Millionaire you see the entrepreneur at home in luxury before they’re transported to some uninhabitable hellhole where they’re expected to live for the next five days?
That was my life this week.
Although sadly I’m no Mummy Warbucks and tragically, the grotspot we arrived in was our family home.
To rewind slightly, we’d had a magnificent weekend living it up in London, eating and drinking ourselves silly in all the coolest places with our bestest pals.
Friday night we dined at The Young Turks’ pop-up restuarant at the Ten Bells in Shoreditch – all über-cool Heston-style dishes, beetroot and gin cocktails, distressed walls and neon art.
The next day it was off to the Tower of London for a slice of culture before heading to the divine and so-hip-right-now Ottolenghi in Islington. Throw in a couple of vodka ’n’ tonics, followed by karaoke in Soho and after-party at a friend of a friend’s drop-dead dreamy £1.5m pad, and we were one happy couple.
Baby-free
As you’ve probably guessed, this was indeed a baby-free weekend.
I know mothers whose children were out of nappies before they left them overnight – and they wear this claim like a badge of honour – but come on, get a life.
We had an amazing time and this is one thing I’m not going to get a dose of mummy guilt about.
The incredible thing about a weekend off is being able to snap back to your former self – i.e. get the lowdown on your BFF’s life and loves without being distracted every 30 seconds; get dressed up without risk of snot or sick wrecking your outfit before you leave the house; and go dancing til 3am and still get some shut-eye.
That’s not to say we weren’t itching to see baby Newman all the way home.
The icing on the cake, or so we thought, was that we were coming home to a new bathroom.
Hmm. Instead we arrived back in Leeds to a freezing cold house, no hot water and, erm, no bathroom.
Talk about coming down to earth with a bump.
Our reunion with little Newman was somewhat spoiled by the fact we all had to keep our huge winter coats on and Mr N was on the phone to the boiler company for about an hour.
Then we all went straight to bed, wearing every item of clothing we own and snuggled under about three duvets. It was too darn cold to do anything else.
And while it’s bad enough dealing with a stinky nappy when the whole country is fast asleep – it’s far worse when you have to brave arctic conditions, trek down to the kitchen and boil the kettle just to get some warm water to clean it up.
So while last week I was moaning about the “shath” situation (shower-bath combo) – this week I could only dream of its joys. I’ve had to grab showers wherever and whenever I could.
Seriously, if your boiler’s going to pack in, why does it always choose the week of the Siberian cold front in which to do it?
And while I’m posing these kind of questions, why do builders always wildly underestimate how long things will take?
Seven days on – it was supposed to take two – the entire house is covered in dust and there’s builders’ tools blocking my wardrobe doors.
Forget The Secret Millionaire, I’m ready to start yelling “I’m a mum...get me out of here!”
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Weather for Leeds
Thursday 24 May 2012
Today
Sunny
Temperature: 10 C to 26 C
Wind Speed: 10 mph
Wind direction: North west
Tomorrow
Sunny
Temperature: 10 C to 23 C
Wind Speed: 20 mph
Wind direction: East
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