I am grinning like a Cheshire cat. Gurgle.co.uk has published their list of Top 20 Mummy Blogs. And Metropolitan Mum is part of it. How could I not be smug? Especially as I am in such good company.
Another week, another visitor, another BBQ. My beloved brother stayed with us over the weekend. Of course, being the doted hostess, I scrapped my diet plans and feasted along. To be honest, I am not on a diet anyway.
Little L has been three months today. Striking a balance under the past three months seems to be almost impossible, as life without her is close to unimaginable. Again, I am surprised by how true it is what everybody says: once your baby entered your life, life without her seems like a distant memory. And: it does get easier with time.
A completely average Wednesday morning, around 9:30AM. Rushing around my local Sainsbury’s with little L screaming, juggling piles of grocery shopping on the pushchair. Queuing at one of the few tills that hasn’t been turned into a ‘self-checkout’, I dare to look up and count annoyed co-shopper’s looks against encouraging fellow mummy-smiles.
Result: one cashier who looks like wanting to kill me, a drunken dosser who just about manages a smile, two annoyed grannies disapproving my parenting abilities, four silently smiling mums and six dads. SIX DADS? Now, what is going on here?
I have been tagged by Rachel Pattisson. Thank you, Rachel, I am honoured and more than happy to complete the task.
My sister has been over to visit for a few days. Not the time for calorie counting; rather for barbeques with buttered corn on the cob, juicy sirloin steaks and fresh baguette. Also, being an older sibling and thus a role model, I didn’t want to obsess about food and had the best excuse not […]
Haven’t you heard? Thursday is the new Wednesday, yippee! As I forgot to step on the scales yesterday, I am making up for it today with my weekly flabloss post.
And no, I have no idea who was cheeky enough to place a jar of REAL mayonnaise on the table.
11 weeks into motherhood and of course, I am moaning about sleep deprivation, weepiness and weight gain. Sometimes I am not even sure if I would have embarked on this adventure, if I had known how much our lives would change. But then I look into those bright blue eyes and sink my nose into the creases on her neck and know: this is all I ever wanted. And more.
On the fitness front, I am more than proud of myself. Went to another class of mummy & me yoga. Joined the gym. Parked little L in the crèche for 60 minutes twice in one week. Didn’t start to cry when handing her over to the carers. And only once jumped hysterically out of the pool and ran dripping wet to soothe my allegedly mummy-missing baby after misinterpreting an announcement. To my defence: the speakers are rubbish, I had water in my ears and the girl behind the micro was chewing on a blanket, it seemed.
Have you ever been on a blind date with more than 17 participants? Well, I just came back from one. I was looking forward to this date with great anticipation, threw on my newest frock (Peggy ordered to buy one and off I went) and even applied some fake tanning lotion to my legs to look my best. Unfortunately, the self-tanning effect only kicked in a few hours after application, i.e. when lunch was served. I officially apologise to Being a Mummy to my left and Big M to my right for the biscuitty smell that developed slowly but steadily from underneath the table during mealtime.