It’s happening, that time of my life after having a mini one that he’s become aware of food. MY food. If he’s not eating, and I am… well sh*t me, he’s like a dog shark! He doesn’t even need to be in the same room and there he is!!! Pawing at me. But he’s JUST BLOODY EATEN! And it’s only going to get worse! Continue reading
I’ve not written for a while, so figured while the mini one is napping, I’d grab my opportunity!
A few things have changed since popping out the mini one…
- My grey hair. It’s spreading like the plague.. The ‘Silver Fox’ look just isn’t the same on women. We just look, well, old.
- I’m wearing less and less makeup on a daily basis. Being a makeup artist it’s really quite surprising how little I’d wear at the best of times. And now…. well, the “My you have long lashes” comments, have now been silenced. In fact, they’re really rather quite short and straight. Tricks of the trade really have proven their success for you suckers!
- The bald patches have reduced in size. No longer am I sporting a Terry Nutkins! Hurrah!
- Packing for a holiday (3 weeks and counting) requires a week in itself to pack. I hate packing.
- My joints! I can’t sit for more than 5 minutes without getting up and walking like a 97 year old woman, who lost her zimmer. Styling it out isn’t so easy, I just look like I’ve sh*t myself as I stand up before starting my awkward, slow, stiff walk to my next destination.
…but aside from that, and aside from loving the Mini one with my everything (except the reasons above, because let’s face it, he is technically to blame and you’re never too young to learn to accept responsibility)… loving life.*Insert thumbs up*
It’s been a VERY VERY… VERY lazy couple of weeks. I’ve had absolutely zero regard for what is posted through my pie hole or at what time of day and even less consideration to the idea of even attempting to burn it off. But despite the grotesque nature of which I have been living (to aid this visual – let me remind you of Waynetta slob), and wishing I could tell you how ashamed I am… the reality is that I’m not. Hang on, let me rephrase that… I’m absolutely and categorically not ashamed. Hopefully that’s a little clearer for you on where I’m at.
I’d like to tell you that I plan to get back on the wagon – and I will. But it’s the Bank Holiday weekend now. The universe tells me now is just not the right time.