I’m home. That’s all we will mention about it, I am home and my holiday is over. Ok, no, let me go on a little bit more about it. I loved New York, I loved the shopping, I loved the people, the culture, the safety of walking around at night time, I loved Central Park and how eclectic it was at every turn with musicians, buskers, orchestra’s and it’s lush beauty. I loved that I booked a 12 day stay and had time to take things slow and do one attraction per day and then take it easy the rest of the day. I loved visiting the Christian Louboutin showroom and having a play with the lust-worthy red soles.

I didn’t like travelling with children. I didn’t like entertaining a 15month old cheeky boy on a 20 hour travel time back home, I didn’t love the idea of dragging an almost four year old around Manhattan all day when the poor munchkin had to walk everywhere and I didn’t like ordering them ‘pasta with butter’ every, single, night!

So the verdict? Loved NYC, can’t wait to go back… without the kids! (see my INSTAGRAM for more photos)

Let’s jump onto another topic, that being, well, today is my birthday. I had a pretty lousy day, thanks for asking. Turning 32 is just as boring as turing 27 but at least when you are 27, you are still in your twenties and are loving life and are three years away from you next big bday bash. This birthday kind of snuck up on me, I am at the age where I can officially say “I’m just another year older” in a sad monotone voice, like an old person, I am an old person now. My next mile stone birthday is when I turn 40, just saying…

OK I am not all that depresso, I am just expressing the facts as I enter into the dull birthday era. It’s all good, I have a coupla kids under my belt and a husband to boot, gosh, thank goodness I have a baby face to keep you coming back to see me. Speaking of baby face, here’s a story for you about my time in NYC.

Every night I would go to bed around 8pm, when the kids would sleep so after 8 days of being in the big apple, I never saw it lit up at night. On the 9th day, I decided it was time to call in the in-laws to babysit so I could hit the town with the husband and our mates. We arrived at the bar and low and behold, I forgot my ID (it’s not my fault my WOC didn’t go with my outfit as good at my Boy Bag!) Not a chance would they let me in, even if I flashed my 10 year old engagement ring at them, I wonder if flashing a cesarean scar would work (sorry, too graphic?) haha anyways, so I got back in a cab, went back to the hotel to grab my ID and head straight back to the bar. Aha, 1983 bitches, I got in! I saw the stunning lights from the roof top deck and felt pretty amazing to be over looking such an amazing city, at an age where I can really appreciate it and above and beyond, to be child free just for a second.