Night out

Tonight Paul and I had a night out. The fifth in as many months since our daughter was born, we went to Nobu. It's officially Our Favourite Restaurant in London. Not at all overhyped, or overpriced (even though you practically have to remortgage to eat there). The first time we went Paul said of the experience, "it's like angels dancing on my tounge". He wasn't kidding. Tonight we let our waiter select our food for us and ate yellowtail sashimi with jalepeno, steak tartare, tuna salad, black cod and dover sole with chilli. And a chocolate bento box of course. We may have eaten something other stuff but I was a little bit tipsy so can't remember. That'll be the raspberry bellinis I had beforehand...

We had such a good time. It feels so good going out nowadays and just being us, on our own. Here we are in the Met Bar, post raspberry bellinis.

And sneaking a quick kiss in the cab. Hope this isn't too gratuitous, it's just I really like the picture.

And here's me with the fantastic babysitter, who had a brilliant night as Lola decided it was time to party and spend much of the evening awake.

Everyone's a winner.

Apart from me the next morning. I had my first proper hangover since Lola was born. I wanted to curl up and die, but was saved by the fact that my sister was there to look after both of us. I got pizza, garlic bread and glasses of full-fat coke and Lola got danced around the living room to hip hop.

My lesson for the decade is hangovers and babies REALLY don't mix. As my sister wisely explained mothers who drink champagne cocktails have nannies. Bully for them.