Figuring out the formula for the best days of my life

It's the little things duh but also the big things

‘Waterfall in Laos’ Photo by Sasha Kaunas on Unsplash

The Perfect Day

On 15 July 2008, my friend and I experienced a perfect day. We were backpacking in Laos and had woken up slightly hungover, just the perfect amount. After breakfast in our B&B, we went out into the countryside to swim in famous waterfalls but on the way home, we got lost and we remained lost until a man, passing in a wooden canoe, offered us a lift home. We think that’s what he said; there was no common language. We were terrified, of course, but telling this from the other side (knowing that we got home safe and sound), we can say that it was an exciting adventure. We got home and showered and went out for dinner followed by massages and we just had such a LAUGH that day. We dubbed it “The Perfect Day” and tried to analyse what had made it perfect. We decided it was the physical activity in the morning followed by dinner and a beauty treatment and we marked it for years after that. We might do a 5km funrun before a lunch and a pedicure - following the formula of the perfect day. And they were great days. 

The Big Days

When I think of the best days of my life, I do think of the big days. I loved my wedding day. What was not to love? I had an amazing breakfast, in my childhood home, with my family and my best friends and then I drove to a gorgeous hotel where, for about 4 hours straight, we sat around being beautified, drinking champagne and having a laugh. I kept forgetting I was actually getting married that day. Getting ready was maybe the best bit. And then I got to wear an expensive dress that was made for me (as in, literally, it was made for me and I adored it). 

The Best Day of My Life

The next best day and, without doubt, this was the best day of my life was the day my first baby was born. Another day that people say you won't actually enjoy but I loved it. Even though I found the labour pain worse than anything I could ever have imagined and even though I will cry to anyone who will listen about the horrific injustice of my requests for an epidural falling on the deafest of ears…by the time I was actually pushing her out and knew it would be over soon, I did sort of enjoy it. Pushing my baby out of myself like a wild animal and feeling every single part of it. And then she was out and she was perfect. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I had read so much about being prepared to “not feel the immediate rush of love” that I didn't think I would but I did. I was instantly besotted. Completely head over heels. On cloud nine. In a love bubble. What other clichés can I use? 

She was born at 4am and I had already been awake since 6am the day before but it didn't bother me. I gladly accepted all manner of visitors that day. My parents, my husband’s parents, my brother-in-law. I think a grand-aunt or two showed up. Mad, when I think about it. But I was delighted. By about 11pm that night, when everyone had gone home, a kind nurse offered to take the baby for a few hours so I could get some rest. I politely declined and said I was OK. Not too long afterwards, the same nurse offered again, saying “Because you’re so tired”. 

“Why does she keep saying I'm tired?”, I thought. “I’ve never said I'm tired”. And then I went to the bathroom and caught sight of my reflection in the mirror over the sink and it shocked me. I had been awake for 41 hours straight at this stage. I had been induced, gone through all stages of labour, birthed a baby, pushed out a placenta, had stitches, had lessons in how to feed the baby, change its nappy and give it a bath. I’d updated every contact in my phonebook on her arrival and hosted most of my immediate family in the hospital room. My reflection SHOCKED me. I tried to open my eyes more than they were opening . “Look less tired”, I told myself. But I couldn't . 

I agreed to let the nurse take her so that I could sleep (even though I'd read enough Chat magazines during my babysitting years as a teenager to be on serious guard for babies getting mixed up or stolen at the hospital). The baby had a security tag on her foot but it was very loose and kept falling off. I took a picture of her before I handed her over, just to be sure. When she came back, I took a picture of her again and sent it to my family Whatsapp saying “Is this the same baby?” and because my family are dickheads, they wrote back “I’m not sure actually. Is it?”

Just an Ordinary Saturday

Just this weekend, I lived another perfect day. I would live this day over. But it doesn't follow any of the formula of the above perfect days and it wasn't a big event day. It was just an ordinary Saturday and nothing extraordinary happened. 

I’d planned to go for a run and had set an alarm for 6am but I woke at 05:55, decided “not today” and turned off my alarm and rolled over back to sleep. I woke again at 07:45 - an incredible lie in. My 3 year old lay between us and our 5 year old soon joined. We stayed in bed a while, laughing and chatting and looking at our screens. I said out loud “I'm so grateful that our bed is big enough that all four of us can fit in”. Most times when I express gratitude, it prompts our 5 year old to add her own gratefulness but sometimes it has the opposite effect: it reminds her of something wrong in her life and this was one of those times and she said “Well I'm not grateful cos my bed only fits one person!” 

I absolutely always make  pancakes for breakfast on a Saturday morning but I was feeling tired and decided I wasn't going to do any jobs this day. No laundry, no unnecessary cooking. I had a box of Frosties on hand because I'm reading The Artist’s Way and in it, was asked to list my five favourite childhood foods and then told to eat one this week. Imagine being given permission to go and buy Frosties. Imagine thinking you needed permission! Well here I was, eating my favourite childhood cereal, only because someone else said I should. I had tea and toast with butter and apricot jam too. Heaven. I decided that I wasn't going to eat healthily that day. I wasn't going to overthink it but I wasn’t going to go for the healthier option or generally think how a grown up thinks. 

How Nice is This

It was raining and my husband suggested we go the cinema. Perfect. We all walked in the rain to see Despicable Me 4. And even though I was completely drenched and my denim jacket never dried out and I was actually a little bit cold in the airconned movie theatre, I thought: how nice is this.  I love the cinema. And my grandmother had loved the cinema and it was something we did together. It was the only source of entertainment for her really in her childhood and all these years later, with so many options available, it is still my favourite thing to do. Sit in a dark room eating popcorn and M&Ms at 11am watching movie trailers and then a film that holds your attention because you're not looking at your phone and can’t talk. Bliss. 

My heart filled hearing our 5 year old laugh at the silly jokes and then again as my 3 year old laughed because her older sister was laughing. The 3 year old bopped adorably in her seat every time a new song came on and when she walked over to her dad, climbed into his lap and snuggled in, I felt so content. After the movie, I said “There’s a new bagel shop nearby that the building Whatsapp is raving about”. So we walked the 4 streets up and 2 avenues across to Kossar’s bakery and the whole way there I thought, “I’m so glad we are entering this new phase of childhood and that we are slowly leaving babyhood behind”. We’d left the apartment with no buggy and no nappies and no equipment other than their adorable matching umbrellas. And as we sat outside on the street, on a nice bench, waiting for my husband, who had joined the queue, to return with our bagels, I thought: “I’m so grateful that the heat in the sun has come out to dry me out. How lucky am I to be sitting here with my two kids, with a lovely view of beautiful brownstones and yellow taxis driving by, post-cinema, waiting for a freshly baked bagel with smoked salmon and cream cheese”. We sat and we ate them and they were indeed the best bagels in New York city.

We chatted to the people beside us, who were there with their 5 week old son, then we got a taxi home because the first journey out without the buggy had been a bit of a stretch after all. Our driver was a character. A hilarious and interesting man. I was pretty anxious about how much he looked at his phone while he drove but I almost forgave him because he was very insistently searching Youtube for a Hungarian singer who features Irish flute in her music. Was this man also Hungarian? No, he was Ethiopian.

How Lucky am I?

When we got in, it was 2pm and the kids were in a post-lunch lull, looking at their respective screens on the couch and as we chilled out I thought, “I’m so grateful for devices and I’m so grateful my kids are addicted to them”.

Adding to my day of taking it completely easy, my husband volunteered to take both kids swimming and I thought: “I could clean the kitchen but I think I'll take a bath” so I ran a delicious bath and lit a candle and read my book. I got out about 10 minutes before they got home and prepared the kids a snack which is one of my favourite things to do. Why is giving a kid a snack before they’ve asked for it so satisfying? I love passing a plastic bowl of crackers and Babybel to them while they watch TV and I love when they say “Thanks Mama”. A mini charcuterie board you didn't even ask for. That is living. 

And then my husband popped out to meet a friend for a drink and I tidied up a bit and made the kids dinner and while I did, they played together building a boat out of a toboggan. They told me they were sailing to California and they had packed soup and water and had added a ‘reading area’ extension to the boat. They hardly fought at all except for the occasional barking of orders from the 5 year old to the 3 year old to “ROW THE BOAT” and the 3 year old would dutifully pick up her two wooden spoons and row the plastic toboggan on the floor of our New York kitchen to California and I thought - “How lucky am I?” and my husband, who was at that very moment in the bar downstairs with his friend, must have been thinking the same thing because he texted me and said “We are so blessed. I love them so much. Today was perfect”.