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The Shame of a Messy Car

Today, as I procrastinate on the web I find myself thinking of those little jobs that never get done. Sure, I could be working my way through them now, but cleaning the car out won’t enhance my career as a writer will it?

Of course I could do what I’m sure sensible people do and bring the rubbish in after each trip rather than letting the footwell’s fill up with wrappers, books, children’s clothing and various debris: That would be far too simple wouldn’t it? I have instead, a boot full of plastic bags, each one signifies my intention to tidy….. Before I set off on various exciting expeditions to the supermarket or the thrill of the school run, I load up the children into their car seats and add a carrier to the boot: for when I return home I shall bring in the wildlife!! On the very few occasions I have managed to achieve this, the plastic bags sit on the stairs for at least a week before my long suffering husband decides he has had enough of me walking past them and sorts them out himself….. Many a suitable child’s jumper has be worn and discarded in that car, only to be retrieved with such a lapse in time that it nolonger reaches the wrist.

But who cares right? I don’t often have car visitors. The other half has a quick jog round if the in-laws are coming for fear they will see it as another reason why I’ll never be good enough for their son….. If the MIL starts clearing it out then I know I’ve gone too far. Shame on me for allowing life to get in the way of a spotless car eh?. She does have a small point though, if passive aggressively made: It is fairly shameful isn’t it? I mean, I hate that moment just before I step out the car door, where I pray that a red bull can will not clatter out after me or heaven forbid, someone finds out we had drive-through Macdonalds a week ago… oh the shame!

Not too long ago the eldest opened her door, only for a sudden gust of wind to blow 10 sandwich bags across the playground (leftover from our half term trip, should H get travel sickness). Of course I then had a choice, do I run after them thus alerting even more people to the fact that I’m a complete Slummy Mummy, or do I leave them and risk the raised eyebrows of the few Chelsea tractor driving yummies who did see….. I opted for a third option, yes, I made it into a game…. Quick H, chase the bags, catch the bags, oh isn’t this fun….. Since that day the eldest has continued to ask me ‘when can we play the bag catch game again mummy?’….

The upside to all this however, is that as the car gets messier and messier I HAVE to get more organised in the mornings (?). I can now be found leaving the house at a reasonable time in order to avoid having to park at the school: I’m officially a walker now. The shame of being the parent who gets in THAT car is all consuming. I’ve seen more than the odd glance at the dashboard by families walking past, ‘wow mummy look at that’ the children point at the lose change, pair of sunglasses (yes, in the middle of winter) pieces of lego and wetwipes which festoon the ledge….. I can only hope that such families passing have the same walk/drive debate and can empathise…. If not, well…. Maybe they are cleaning out their cars rather than writing about not doing it..….
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The Yummy Mummy Experiement pt2

So I did it, today I got up early, despite a rather disturbed night; I put on my face and squeezed into some less slouchy clothes. The aim of this experiment was to gauge the reactions of others; do others treat you differently according to how you look? Fleetingly my husband comments ‘oh, youre wearing a dress today’ and the baby has a fab time rummaging in the make-up bag…..DSCF3407 but that’s the extent of the day, I kid you not, making an effort with your appearance increases your own self confidence and I must admit I felt more empowered today, that might be because it was such a sunny afternoon though, blue skies do put you in a better mood, But the mums you chat to normally make the same efforts and the lady down the road who sneers at you each morning, still sneers at you….. I did think she was waving to me at one point but I suspect her yummy mummy friend was behind me. The man who delivered the milk, continues on his way without a passing glance and the lorry drivers rolled past, not even a ‘wow you made an effort today’ beep!

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I wish I could offer more, some witty insight into how wearing make-up and making an effort each day will magically transform your life, Instead I’m left with the following realisations:

  • You still can’t breastfeed in magic underwear
  • You will spend the day checking your skirt isn’t tucked into your leggings
  • You will panic if you think it’s going to rain for fear of a make-up melt down
  • You will be terribly tired by 4 pm having got up too early
  • You will feel more confident
  • You will develop a horrid make-up related pimple by the end of the day
  • Your children and friends don’t give a toffee what you look like
  • You’ll realise that’s the most important thing to remember
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The Yummy Mummy Experiment pt 1

In order to be transformed into a yummy mummy meticulous research is required, Thanks to the joys of the internet, Wikipedia has done it for me

‘Yummy mummy is a slang term used in the United Kingdom to describe young, attractive and wealthy mothers.’

Hmmmm, clearly this experiment will be tougher than I thought. We don’t own a Chelsea tractor, I don’t even have a yummy mummy changing bag (but I kinda want one now)

Clearly if these women are wealthy one would assume they have a entourage of staff, I do not, therefore finding time in the day to put on my make-up, style my hair or go shopping for clothes is impossible… I decided the best bet here would be to cheat.

Creating the Yummy Mummy look

So I call my local nail salon, they don’t have pushchair access and a full set of acrylics will cost set me back £25. I have fallen at the first hurdle! That £25 will keep me in cheap wine for a month, and pretty rubbish if I can’t bring baby Roo with me, mind you, I’m kinda relieved- I’m pretty sure the idea that I can relax and be pampered while a group of women  coo over the baby is nothing more than misguided idealism at best….

After work this morning (I’m lucky enough to work from home) I get out the make-up box- I collect make-up. It’s kind of like the times you buy a new canvas picture thinking it will look great when you finally redecorate the living room….. I buy a new eyeshadow thinking it will look great when I finally redecorate my face.

Thankfully I have discovered the most amazing make-up, Bare minerals is a powder foundation, it take all of 3 minutes to apply and covers every blemish 10577863-1326127794-817252without having that sticky heavy 3 layers of goo feel about it….. today I discover, my wonderful daughter decided that ‘Barbie I Can Be Baby Doctor Doll’, needed a make-over (I allow my daughter to have plastic dolls providing they are aspirational in some way). Bare minerals is down to bare essentials.

Last night I plaited my hair before bed (v little house on the prairie) I hope that today I will have beautiful curls and luscious volume which I can secure with a few bobby pins in a haphazard I-didn’t-try-but-my hair-looks-fab kind of way. This morning I have a mess of frizz with a flat unmovable parting and straight ends (didn’t plait far enough down)…. Crap! DSCF3391Thankfully I have a cheat for this also, hair pieces!!! I’ve not taken care of mine, they look like dead rats in a box. I plait my hair on the side instead with fizz tamer and hair gel (that will be fun to brush out later)……

Even I know it’s impossible to lose 2 stone in a week just for the purposes of a self-appointed assignment, so what’s the answer here???!!! Magic underwear!! I’m able to contain the baby (cake) belly with the following,  a Belvia, Bridget Jones’ style knickers and, what is commonly referred to in our house when I’m screaming to my husband before a night out as, the ‘wheres-my-sucky-in-vest-top?’. Now, the three garments together actually do amazing job at taming the flab, if it wasn’t for a, I can’t bloody breathe and b, I can’t bloody breathe….. 0323973_lNeither can I breast feed in them. It’s back to the drawing board while I feed the baby and consider my options…. My husband by this point has left for work (he has the baby on Monday mornings) So its 11:30 am and I look like a grizzly bear with patchy make-up, nerve bitten nails and a body shoved into a toothpaste tube, thankfully no postman today! I revert to the jammies ….

Day 1 fail

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Label Guns

Recently, while trying to get some feedback on my blog I was informed the following:

‘To be honest I hate all the yummy mummy / slummy mummy type labels. We are women, not just mummies. I wouldn’t read your blog because of the name’ (Ironically my stats went up after this with a link to the site in question, so I suspect the poster may have had a sneaky look anyway)

And

‘So for being normal you are labelled slummy? nice.’

It’s amazing how untactful people can be from behind a screen. However, always conscious of my readers (you guys have helped me hit the big 1000 hits in two weeks wooo hoo)- I won’t be baking cakes this time due to a food colouring incident (fail) !!, I have decided to examine these comments and clear up any misunderstanding: Here is my Passive aggressive responsejudging-others-274x300

I consider this to be a satirical blog, one which is aware that mummies place labels on ourselves and others far too often, I aim to promote a healthy view of being yourself, if we don’t do the laundry or curl our hair each morning we are labelled ‘Slummy’, therefore I have embraced this…. although I find myself chasing that elusive ‘Yummy Mummy’ status, I don’t believe it exists. The women in the playground who DO curl their hair each morning prob have curly hair anyway and can’t fathom how I’m able to straighten mine each day.  It’s that unrealistic view of what a mother should be which holds us back from just letting it all hang out so to speak (don’t let it hang out, tuck it into your waistband).

You guys get it don’t you???

I would like to point out that this blogging network does not belong to the fabulous website I work for! It’s the other one (wink).

So, I’m thinking we need to test these labels out, what do you reckon? Over the next few weeks I will take on a persona, I’ll do the school run, and the supermarket trip (ahhhhh, I’m an on-liner normally) as a mummy with a label. I’ll be my old ‘Slummy’ self, a ‘Yummy Mummy’ an ‘earth-mummy’ and a ‘Corporate Mummy’. I’ll gauge the reaction of others (including my husband and children) and see what insight I can uncover…… Ideas welcome here guys…. I shall call this test ‘THE EXPERIMENT!!!’ Yeah, Ideas welcome for the title also…….