When I found out I was pregnant, I was 2 years into my Communications degree.
I had awesome friends and family and was happily indulging in food and drink most of the time.
Now, nearly 2 years later I still have the best people in my life. + one little chick.
Motherhood is hard, really fun and enjoyable but hard.
I used to rewash my hair if it didn’t blow dry right and now I find myself straightening sick into my hair and thinking of it as mousse. Kind of works the same.
Where there used to be clean clothes and dirty clothes, now there are clean enough, cleanish, wearable and dirty-but-im-going-to-wear-it-anyway clothes.
I never hand in assignments on time anymore- mind you I don’t think I ever did pre-baby either.
I get more stressed about Amelias outfits than I do my own. She is quite tubular in shape, being a baby stylist is hard! Sometimes when her daycare teacher says her outfit is
“interesting” or ” special”
I lie and say my mum dressed her in the dark.
Walking the fine line with make up, hair and clothing between funky mum and sluzza mum is harder than I thought possible. It is impossible to push a pram in wedge boots without looking like you are off to the liquor store. Same with wearing skirts. Hair extensions- forget it.
The only solution I have found is to seperate my wardrobe.
Mum clothes : must be mature. Not low cut or low rise ( saggy boobs and no bum), classy enough to make it look like you are in your late 20’s and good at family planning but young enough for the other mums to still think you look nice.
Lizi clothes: must be modest so you don’t look like that chick from school who got knocked up. Clean ( to a normal persons standard), a bit fashionable ( not too fashionable or you look like you spend all your money on yourself) and most importantly ritzy enough to get a cheeky wink so you don’t get too depressed at being alone forever.
I give myself till 25 before I give up and hit the Ezibuy all purpose capris.