Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Time please ladies & gents

For the record i am 29 years old, there are times when i feel 100 but the majority of the time i still think i am 21, in my head i still look 21 too, although driving past Liverpool University last week and seeing a gaggle of "freshers" reminded me i am not, i would look like a member of the Goonies in the get ups these girls were rocking, they were all head scarves tied over grey / blonde hair, peter pan collars over cropped t shirts and denim cut offs, (watch an episode of X Factor and you`ll see this demonstrated perfectly)

Another reason for my reflective mood probably has something to do with receiving a letter to inform me that my driving licence picture needs renewing, i am rather perturbed as i quite like my picture, it looks nothing like me, i am blonde, tanned (i was partial to a sunbed or 6 back then) and my pose is one of pure unadulterated vanity, i genuinely don't want to change it...i knew i should have pickled my face back then.

Having a baby has the bonus effect of making you feel very grown up, the sense of responsibility is a shock, and the fact your life will never be the same again, Before having our little baba, Boyfriend and I both agreed that we didnt want to retire from having a social life, i felt too young to hang up my dancing shoes, the boyfriend said something along the lines of "there is life in the old dog yet".
I was so excited about our new addition but i knew then i wanted her to be just that, an addition to our lives, this may sound unbelievably selfish but my siblings and friends all seem to have a great balance of work/family/social life, combining the latter is easier now the majority of our group have children, we also have the added bonus of having very accommodating (read: willing to babysit) parents, so have had the luxury of being able to go out as a couple.

Although i wasn't so quick to catch on to the other elements of my life that would have to be changed or at least amended slightly, when baba was 10 weeks old we took her to a friends wedding down south, we were blissfully ignorant to how difficult it was going to be taking such a young baby to a 2 day event, my mum repeatedly offering to babysit Tilly for the weekend should have been a slap-in-the-face clue. I was so concentrated on our wedding attire i didn't give a moments thought to my little ones feeds/naps fitting in with the wedding schedule, with no "routine" in place and in hindsight this short sighted of me. So off we went, the car yet again packed up like a sardine can, We arrived at the ceremony on time, so far so good...then no sooner had the beautiful bride entered the Church did Tilly decide she wanted her bottle, and the noise she made indicated she did not want it in 20 minutes, she wanted it right now, this moment, chop chop, sharpish, Boyfriend and i were like a SWAT team and the bottle was made, shaken and inserted into her mini cake hole within seconds, panic over.

My next challenge was to negotiate the remainder of the day in vertiginous heels whilst holding baba, add champagne to this scenario and i have to confess, for the first party in my heel wearing career i changed into flats, sparkly flats, but non the less i admitted defeat and accepted this was the only option...my life has now officially changed beyond recognition! We lasted until midnight, baba fast asleep in her pram and us taking it in turns to do what can only be described as the parent equivalent of dad dancing, on the dance floor, pushing the pram to the beat of the music......ssssshhhhh i promised boyfriend it was our little secret.....

Thanks to Ohsocherished.co.uk for the image, No Dad Dancing sign available at


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