Wednesday 10 August 2011

A first time for everything

6 weeks exactly to the day of Tilly being born it was time for me to venture back out into the world of grown ups and go "out"
I am have been very carefully weaning myself back on to alcohol by having a glass of wine in the evening (for preparation purposes only, of course) but i still felt nervous about actually drinking multiple units in one evening, not to mention feeling ropey the next day. Tilly was in the very capable hands of her Nana & grandad for the evening, so that wasn't a worry for me, thankfully, as i had whole host of other things to stress me out.

First task, getting ready. Since Ive had the baby i have questioned what exactly i did with my time before she came along, I have now realised i spent the majority of it preparing myself to leave the house. In the past i wasn't one for planning my "going out" outfits (this has either worked very well for me or bombed spectacularly and Ive ventured out looking eclectic/like a crazy bag lady) but as my wardrobe is still somewhat limited due to majority of my clothes having bizarrely shrunk in size recently, i purposely chose what i was wearing a few days in advance. I also enlisted my sister to blow dry my hair to cut down my preening time. All i had to do was shower, apply my war paint and get dressed...simple? you`d think so. But this was after i got Miss Tilly ready for her sleep over, for a little person she sure does need a lot of stuff, bottles/formula/steriliser/nappies/wipes and that's before packing her spare clothes and moses basket!

My time keeping has never been good, in fact i am notorious for never being ready on time for nights out, but its something i have been working on improving (the boyfriend is the most prompt person ever so i have been following his lead) Tilly has only added to my tardiness so getting us both ready to get out for 8pm was no mean feat (Boyfriend watched in vain as i ran around like a headless chicken, i have a medical condition called Mummy Martyrdom which prevented me from delegating my to-do-list, i hear this is a common problem among new mums, understandable though, how can we moan about how much we have to deal with if we always let our partners help us??)

Finally i was ready (wearing a clever A-line button through dress, which skimmed over my problem areas, i am declining to list these, there is something to be said for not drawing peoples attention to your faults so i topped my look off with red lips) I popped on my heels (10cm) and off i went, walking like Bambi, who would have thought it, a few months of wearing flats and despite years of teetering on vertiginous heels i am back to being a novice, i was mortified! I walked like i was smuggling a marble between my bum cheeks, my poor toes were clinging onto the end of my shoes for dear life as i negotiated my way into the car. No body warned me that post pregnancy i would have to once again learn to walk in high heels, the extra weight i am carrying probably didn't help my balance either, but i have always believed the higher the heels & hair the closer to heaven so this was quite a blow.

The dress i was wearing on my first night out belonged to my younger sister, this i believe was my first mistake, spying a dress on a 25yr old and thinking that i could emulate the look, despite having only given birth 6 weeks ago, you have to applaud my balls.
I left the house believing i looked presentable, admittedly i didn't feel a fraction of the confidence i had  pre pregnancy, but at the very least i had ensure i looked quite polished, what quickly struck me on arriving at the bar that night that polished wasn't quite going to cut the mustard for me. I found myself surrounded by dozens and dozens of skinny legs, young (probably childless) skinny legs clad in (very very very) short dresses dancing around carelessly. I felt like an alien. Admittedly this wasn't a bar i frequented prior to having the Tilly, so i had nothing to compare my feelings to, but i felt nervous, frumpy and out of place. The large majority of my friends have children, and they were all there, sporting an array of fabulous outfits, looking slim, confident and gorgeous, undeterred by the underage mini girls aloud look alikes that milled around....this reminded me my feelings were only temporary, and there is obviously going to be a period of adjustment after having a baby, I am a mummy now, but there is no reason mummy = frumpy, i fully intend to claw back my old confidence, i may never wear anything outrageous, but am not sure i did before, i may never bare my midriff again, but never say never. As for walking in high heels, practise makes perfect.

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