Yesterday I painted my nails. A pretty mundane task that takes a few minutes but those few minutes after they had dried I looked down – wow I have painted nails I thought. No I hadn’t been struck by baby brain and instantly forgotten but as I looked down at the uneven wobbly paint job I realised that I hadn’t painted my nails literally for years. I mean what’s the point when you’re constantly cleaning, changing bums, wiping up and bathing children. They chip straight way then you never have time to take off the chipped mess but looking down at my Barbie hot pink smudged nails I felt like the old me.
I used to be a tad obsessed with my nails. Every few weeks I’d be in the nail salon choosing a new outrageous colour to brighten up my stubby fingers. It was my thing and made me feel good when I had lovely nails. And yesterday I felt a little bit glam. As I type this after chopping tea, bathing babies, scrubbing the highchairs from mushed in chilli con carne and then mopping up sick (get well soon Charlie!) they already look rough round the edges but looking at them as I tap away on the keyboard they make me feel happy.
It’s not a major sacrifice in the grand scheme of things you forfeit when you become a parent but I feel like I really have gone to rack and ruin. I couldn’t find my hairbrush in the haze of the school run so just tied it up and went out. If my jeans have a bit of food on, I’ll just grab a baby wipe and be on my way; how have I let myself go so much and been totally Ok with it?
My weight is a crazy issue. I am now two stone heavier than when I got married. TWO STONE. My daughters will be 2 in June so you cannot say it’s baby weight any more. My wardrobe has become full of items that hide all my lumps and bumps, everything must hang in an unclingy manner otherwise there’s no chance it will be aired. I live in leggings and my shoes all have to be flat with no hint of a heel because well what mom wears high heels for more than 10 minutes?! How did I get here. I know I’m getting older and three kids under my belt but I’m not even 30 and I feel like an old frump. I really want to get back to looking after myself and more importantly feeling good about myself. I really feel like I’m stuck in a rut and am so negative lately (as you may have guessed from recent posts) but it’s time to dust myself off and start taking a bit of pride and realise it’s OK to spend a bit of time on myself. I’m not ready for the scrap heap just yet!