Mind Your Peas and Queues
I still find it weird that I'm a Mum. It's not like I forget but I 'remember' at odd moments.
Like when I'm buying big pants and small bras in Topshop (once curvy bits have shriveled and once toned-ish bits have squished) or when I find myself looking at the three for two deals on posh shampoo in Boots before remembering I went in for nappies.
Old haunts look the same but I feel different. I feel like I don't really belong in the baby aisles at the Supermarket. Probably because I've
A Bloody Mary with celery used to count as two of my five a day. A more grown up approach to vegetables is now mandatory and as a result I am dusting off the kitchen kit and blending, mashing, mixing... And, I'll admit it, opening a jar or two.
Most meals start off relatively civilized... The super-smart Baby Bjorn high chairs blend in perfectly with the Ikea dining table (honestly, I couldn't have matched it better if I'd tried!) and classical music plays in the background. (I am probably over playing the 'Symphonies For Small People' CD because I feel guilty that the only womb music the boys got was the X Factor theme tune followed by renditions of memorable songs by forgettable individuals).
An industrial hose would be a useful cleaning tool as currently I spend more time wiping floors than Cinderella... and no matter how many times I cry out for a Fairy Godmother / Mary Poppins / Nanny McPhee nobody appears. Maybe I'll turn the music down and see if anyone hears me then.
Katy Hymas - Mummy Blogger and Exhausted Mum to Twin Boys