I’m going through a tired, worn phase of split ends, bad skin, muffin top and lethargy, otherwise known as winter. We’ve recently ditched the buggy and without it I feel suddenly exposed. As I trot around juggling the mountains of coats and paraphernalia that I used to sling in the buggy, I realise what, in the course of raising small children, I have become. I’m sick of scuffing around town in torn trousers, battered trainers and a shrunken top. The other day I was really pleased to see a slightly glamorous photo of myself in amongst some family photos until I realised it wasn’t me.
I once accidentally left the house with a bat cape velcroed to the back of my jumper.
I don’t know about you but pride in my personal appearance has taken a nose dive. I routinely leave the house wearing something ridiculous. As an example, I once accidentally left the house with a bat cape velcroed to the back of my jumper.
I’m usually covered in food and normally dunk at least one part of my body in baked beans during the course of any day. Once it was my right boob, in public. As for personal style, you just know that it’s time to change the style of your shoulder bag when someone tries to pay you to go on the bouncy castle.
And children aside, age has taken its toll. I’ve got hand freckles and silver temples and a layered haircut can make me look dangerously like Jilly Cooper.
As for my hair, dry shampoo plays an increasingly important role in my life. It’s only after showering, getting ready and applying Batiste that you can see if you got away with skipping a proper hair wash. More often than not, you haven’t. In desperation, I once got carried away and accidentally dry-shampooed my face; it was completely white. And children aside, age has taken its toll. I’ve got hand freckles and silver temples and a layered haircut can make me look dangerously like Jilly Cooper.
I’ve lost my mojo.
At low points like this it’s nice to to know you can rely on your family to give you a boost and this can come in many forms. Here are some examples of actual exchanges that have taken place in my house.
Trying too hard: ME: How old you think I look? WW: 32. ME: Really? Thanks! WW: At a push. ME: Why do that? WW: Say 34 then.
Logical: CHILD: Why don’t women have beards? ME: Well, most women are less hairy than men and don’t grow much hair on their face. CHILD: Mummy, you’re not a woman.
Zoological: CHILD (pointing to my armpits): “You look like a gorilla who has lost all of its hair apart from there!”
Random observations that have really lifted my spirits include: “Mum, your bum is bigger than this house!”
Heartwarming: Why did your tummy not go back to the same as before? ME: Do you think I’m too fat? CHILD: Yes. But not too fat for me.
Helpful: CHILD: What toy would you like Father Christmas to bring you next year? ME: What do you think I should ask for? CHILD: New make-up?
Scientific. ME (getting in bath): This is a bit deep! CHILD: If you stand up Mum, the water will go down loads!
PS: Random observations that have really lifted my spirits include: “Mum, your bum is bigger than this house!”, “Mummy, are you a hippo?”, “You really do look like a man with long hair Mummy,” “I want to wear giant pants like you” and my personal favourite: “Mum have you got a walking stick?”