Champagne For My Real Friends

Holidays are great. But coming home sucks. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't say it, being a mum and all, but I wish I was still there. I guess that's the sign of a good holiday, when you wish you were back there. Try know, there are holidays that I'm not so keen to revisit.

Just two days later the euphoria wore off, the glitter of the memories begun to fade, and it's back to reality. It's raining, I have to do all those things you don't have to on holiday, like cook, wash and clean, and I'm getting the sniffles. Not to mention having to return to the plantation.

Plus I miss my girl group. It was a really amazing feeling to be part of a group of such powerful women. All five of them. Some people said to me: "I don't know how you do it, I can't do that sort of thing anymore." How quickly these people forget. It must be nice to be a 'smug married' but I hope I never become that. I'd always like to have a little space where me and my girls can hop on a plane and have some fun, maybe not as intense as the last week, but it can still be a time where we get to let our 'hair' down, and a chance to share our opinions on parenting, our parents, life, and of course, the man's dem.

I learnt a lot about my friends, and have a new found respect for them after hearing all that they have coped with in their lives. The holiday wasn't just about raving. It was about much more than that.