You may have noticed I have been rather quiet of late and there is a very good reason for that :- after months of looking like a beach ball thief and 55 hours of labour I produced this………..
I could not even begin to comprehend how much this little fella would change my life and the things that used to be important to me have paled into insignificance.
My days now revolve around making sure he is fed, clean, warm and generally happy and healthy and this is how it should be. So am I concerned with is how quickly I can get rid of my baby weight, making sure my hair and make-up are done each day and that I’m keeping up with fashion trends and baking cupcakes in my Cath Kidson apron? No kids; I’m no yummy mummy and I hate that term and here’s why.
It’s just typical of the world today though, the success of women is still so heavily rooted in how they look and how they appear to the rest of the world rather than the actual job they are doing. Fashion and celebrity magazines are always showing pictures of women two weeks after giving birth and celebrating the fact they have gotten their pre-pregnancy figures back so quickly, but is this really something we should be applauding? For one after giving birth you body is pretty much shot to pieces, I felt like I had been kicked around by a horse for a few hours and could hardly breath my ribs hurt so much. I could barely get dressed let alone think about going to the gym to get my flat stomach back (although I’ve never had a flat stomach anyway) and I was eating like a horse to get me through the lack of sleep and give me enough energy just to get through the day. I did not need to think about dieting or worrying about calories when my main concern was getting food into my baby and shoving a snickers bar into my mouth when I had two minutes to think about myself.
Most days it’s an achievement just to have a shower and brush my teeth, my hair is lucky if it sees a hair brush from one day to the next and my clothes are accessorised with baby sick shoulder detail and random patches of wee over the rest of my clothes. I am a scummy mummy and you know what I’m proud because I know that I may look like a sack of shit but my boy is getting all the attention, love and care he needs and that’s all I care about.
So those magazines that like to ram the yummy mummy message down our throats can quite frankly kiss my huge ass, they are doing nothing to help normal women who are just trying to be the best parent they can be.
The scummy mummy any scrummy baby