About the time we brought C home from the hospital the transformation from Wife, Pretty Pulled Together into Mom began.
It wasn't so pretty.
(sing-song voice) Isn't he cute look how cute the baaaaaabbbby is look how sweet...
By the time R skipped into our lives, I was firmly entrenched in the 'we're all about the kids!' stage - hair scraped back, jeans, where was my watch again?
There's a time when you're focused on your children, a time when you don't exist at all.
I've let it drag on far too long.
This is nothing new. Back in January I started with a cute haircut.
But the rest of me was pretty plain. Work into it slowly, and all that.
A friend of mine recently started going to nail school. I was right there with my hand up volunteering to be a guinea pig. Pick me pick me ohh pick me!
Now my nails are gorgeous and I feel flirty and cute and young. B loves it - amazing what a small thing it was that shook up my self-image! I have pretty hands.
I think I may have unleashed a monster. You see, there's a girl trapped inside me shrieking "but you used to love make-up!" and I've been happily stuffing her back down....but maybe, just maybe, I could let her out to play a bit?
As long as she doesn't try to make me go too far and actually find my watch.