10 bloggers, 2.5 hours and countless cups of tea. This morning, I had the pleasure to be part* of a speed-dating-like event for brands that were keen to find out how to best approach mum bloggers. In the depth of The Hoxton**, a cosy meeting room had been set up to offer brands the opportunity to quiz the mummy bloggers to their liking. After 10 minutes of ruthless interrogation, the sound of a bell would set us free from the inspector, throwing us into the next round of callous grilling.***
Rob and Matt from The Baby Show team – the only blokes. Who’d have thought?
When the question what I blog about was asked for the 3rd time, the elevator pitch had finally formed in my head. ‘This blog is about a woman who happened to become a mother.’ I guess that’s it, in a nutshell. During the past two years, my blog has developed from blogging about a long, long pregnancy (43 weeks is all I say), about sleepless nights and nappy brain, into blogging about getting back into shape, back into my jeans and back into the person I used to be. My blog has developed just as I have developed.
Little L is going to be two in April. She has most certainly changed my life. I dare say she has made me a better person – I am much more forgiving, less judgemental and I only now know what it means to really put someone else first. Of course, the external circumstances have changed dramatically and are the ones most easy to spot. I am no longer part of the corporate world (and have no intention to ever go back), I am not earning money (something I’d love to change) and having adapted to little L’s sleeping routine, I am much more rested (something I wouldn’t want to change).
One of my greatest fears when I was pregnant was how I would cope with the mummification of my old self. Would there still be space for the old me? During the first months of little L’s life, there was little to no space for me, nor old nor new. But slowly, especially after her first birthday, things got easier. Up to the point that recently, I found myself thinking that things are pretty much back to how they used to be, plus one.
I still like to do my hair, I still like to go out for dinner, end up in a nightclub and dance the night away. I still want to wear dresses and heels and look good in a bikini. And I discovered that the answer to all those wishes is ‘I can!’ – it’s just a question of priorities and determination.
I grew up with the idea that having children will ruin your figure (it doesn’t – eating too much does). I also grew up with the idea that having a full-time career was essential to feel fulfilled (it’s not, at least not for me). Maybe this is my way to proof my mother wrong? I don’t know if there’s an underlying psychological rational to my take on motherhood. I am happy. I am a happy woman, and a happy mother as well. So happy in fact, that I might want to reconsider the end of the end…
**Where I won a night to stay with my husband. Hurray!
***Of course, they have all been perfectly nice and polite. I made that bit up.