Want to hear about my Mummy Meltdown? It hasn’t been a great day. If I’m honest, it’s been pretty shit. There have been tantrums, strops and meltdowns from both me and the kids. So I thought I’d share… That’s ok, right? This is my space after all. Meltdowns from the kids – I can deal with. Water off a duck’s back. Mummy meltdowns… Not so much. This isn’t some sort of cry for help or sympathy plea. I just thought if I wrote it down I could get over it and move on a bit like my blogging wobble a while back (read about it here).
It’s three days until the Mummypages afternoon tea event and my appearance is playing on my mind. Meeting face to face with people you have connected with online is a funny old thing. I missed the era of online dating and for that, I am truly thankful because I’m pretty sure I’d still be single. You always hear ‘first impressions are important.’ I didn’t think I cared what other people thought of me at this stage in my life but today’s self-hating thoughts have made me realise, I probably do.
I’m approaching my mid-thirties. Is this not the stage at which I’m meant to feel most confident in my body, the time where I should be in awe of what it has given me? I don’t think I’m terribly unfashionable but sometimes that perfect outfit in my head just doesn’t suit the squidgy hanger displaying it. That pouch two c-sections and lack of exercise has left me with is only made more obvious by the 7lbs of wine, chocolate and mince pies that Santa brought me.
So those extra pounds are where today’s Mummy Meltdown began. I thought I’d treat myself to something nice to wear on Friday. Hopefully ease my nervousness. Instead of coming home with a nice new top, I brought home a sour face, accentuated by a double chin and a few more wrinkles caused by my scowl in the mirror. Unfortunately, it made a standard, tantrum filled day a whole lot worse. I’m sure my mood rubbed off on the Little C’s. Leaving everyone grumpy.
I’ve always struggled with my weight, this isn’t a new thing and I have been heavier than I am now. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt as insecure about my fashion choices. Don’t get me wrong I can rock the mum uniform. But it’s just that – a uniform. It requires little effort to pull on a jumper, jeans and a pair of converse. It’s dressing for date night, events or special occasions cause my despair. I’ve lost my desire to be anything other than comfortable.
Once upon a time, I worked in an industry all about your appearance. Not to blow my own trumpet but I was good at it! Today that confident girl stood behind the chair with her scissors seems like someone else. I don’t want to be that girl again but I would like her self-confidence. I can’t imagine my Saturdays having one eye on the mirror lip reading what my lady just said over the noise of the hairdryer. Life is different now. Now I’m just a Mummy, who occasionally overshares the ramblings of her mind on the internet and would like to be a stone lighter.
Somewhere between drop off’s, pick up’s and meltdowns I’ve forgotten the me who wasn’t a Mummy. The one who made lists of the perfect outfits when packing her case for Ireland. The one who knew how to dress her curvy (chubby) belly and the one who had to do her hair every day. Now I rarely have a good hair day, it’s normally hidden under a woolly hat. And I console myself that once I have a bit of lipstick on, well sure whos to know I have washed my face with a water wipe?
I don’t want to be the mum who let herself go. Do all Mum’s feel different after spawning their offspring? Is this what Motherhood does to those of us with little willpower? Leaves us further down the pecking order. A bit less important? Maybe a little unsure if they are comfortable with the person they have become?
The internet is full of posts telling us to ‘be nice’ to ourselves. Make time for ‘yourself’ (with a big caramel latte!). I’m making excuses now but the temptation of the treat cupboard is all too much when one kid is screaming at your feet while you wash up last night’s dinner dishes and the other is having a completely different meltdown because he doesn’t want to watch the programme he requested two minutes prior. Those cupboard rummaging moments are what got me into this mess along with that white, buttery toast I couldn’t say no to.
If you have read this far… I commend you! I apologise for my whine. I will get over my Mummy Meltdown in time to eat cake on Friday. And I have loads of things to wear! I know I can slim into my jeans again (not by Friday mind) and I can get rid of the extra chin. I just have to be in the right frame of mind. The frame of mind of a mother who doesn’t finish the kids’ leftovers, toast bedtime with a glass of wine and treat herself to the big slice of cake when she’s been up all night.
So if I manage to take myself in hand I might let you know now and again, how I’m getting on. I hope you don’t mind. Oh, and if you have the name of a surgeon whos fab at liposuction leave their details in the comments. Joke…
Well depends how good they are.