>> There are four party invites on the family notice board.  None of them are for my husband or I.

>> I realise that I have become Master I’s social secretary when over hear this conversation:
Master I: Do you want to come over for a play one day soon?
Friend: Oh, yes please.
Master I: Good, I will get my mum to email your mum

>> We run into five people Isaac knows whenever we go out to the shops.  The shop keepers know him by name.

>> When I do go out, Master I will eye my outfit suspiciously.  “Where are you going?” he asks, with definite under-tones of: Were you intending to go out without me – I am not entirely sure how I feel about that.

>> It’s not just Master I, the baby gets in on the action as well. I have caught up with girlfriends, sans-kids, looking forward to uninterrupted coffee and conversation. When I arrive all foot-loose and child-free I am met with a crestfallen, “Oh, why didn’t you bring the baby?”

>> Master I’s FOMO is developing nicely, he was completely crushed when invited to two events on at the same time.  We somehow figured out how to attend both. I fear I am teaching bad habits. You can check out my thoughts on FOMO here.

>> If I am out, it gets to 8:30pm and I am looking to head home and get some rest.  If Master I happens to still be out at 8:30pm (weekends only), he’s ready to party.

>> The prospect of an early night to myself, with a good book, fills me with more excitement than I ever thought possible.

On the flip side, all three of my boys have led me to meet some pretty amazing people.  Some of my closest friends these days have children the same age as mine.  Our nights out might look a bit different these days, but I would’t give it up for the world.