I Did What No Woman Should Do……

Not a lot of people know this, as it’s quite embarrassing to admit, but just before Christmas I did what no woman should ever do….

I CUT MY OWN HAIR!

This is, of course, asking for trouble at the best of times.  I’m sure everyone has given their own fringe a trim as a kid – the results were never good.  And come to think of it, none of my Barbie’s looked particularly stylish after I’d given their hair a bit of spruce with a pair of craft scissors.   The writing was on the wall, you might say.

Anyhoo, there I was one night.  Him indoors was on a rare night out, children were in bed, I was having a glass of Bailey’s and a trawl through YouTube.  I somehow came across a huge number of videos of girls with beautiful hair, giving me tutorials on how to cut it yourself. Ooof, this will save me loadsa money, I thought.  That looks so easy, and those girls have fantastic hair.   Bolstered by the Bailey’s, I grabbed the kitchen scissors (yes, I know KITCHEN SCISSORS, this was never, ever, ever going to end well) and headed off to the bathroom.  I’ll just trim the split ends off, I thought.

To, eh hem, cut a long story short, the results were not good.  I had some sort of weird mullet with short bits sprouting up from the top and uneven long straggly bits at the back.  My shoulder length hair was ruined.

Thankfully, my mother-in-law was visiting a couple of days later.  She used to be a hairdresser, so she did the best she could with what she had to work with.  I now had shortish hair.  I’ve never had short hair.  Haven’t got the face for it.  But everyone thought it suited me.

This weekend, I took the plunge and am now the owner of I a proper haircut.  I’ve got a pixie cut and I love it!  I had a bit of a wobble, worrying I looked a bit butch but now, I love it. This may sound ridiculous, but it’s the haircut I’ve been waiting for.  I feel different, more confident.  I’ve found a style that suits me.  I’m going to be channeling a bit of Jean Seberg, I’ve always loved her hair and her simple, chic style (minus the ciggie).   So now, I am hoping my ‘I don’t know what to wear, boo hoo’ trauma will be solved by asking myself ‘ Would Jean Seberg wear this?’.  Simples.

So, let this be a warning to anyone contemplating cutting their own hair.  DON’T! No matter how many Bailey’s you’ve downed.

I Think I’m Having A Baby…..

Not exactly something you want to hear from your SIX YEAR OLD DAUGHTER, but on Saturday, these were the words that were screamed at me.

Eva was struggling with an extremely bad stomach and I admit, I didn’t know what to do to help her as she was writhing around on the floor.  We’d tried a warm bath, hot water bottle, rubbing her tummy, Calpol but nothing was working.  I thought she was being (a touch) over dramatic, but after her announcing that she thought she was having a baby and partaking in some labour-like panting, I decided this was serious.  So as you do, I turned to google.  Her symptoms via google, were diagnosed as appendicitis. :-0  Cue a frantic and teary call to my mum (always to my mum first), other half and NHS direct which resulted in Olivia and Frankie being rushed off to their Grampa,  OH leaving work early, and a trip to the hospital.  Turns out this was just a 48 hour bug, combined with colic – which can induce agonising spasms.  Phew.

I know what you’re wondering though, how the hell does a six-year-old have any idea what it’s like to  be having a baby?  I asked myself the same.   Then it clicked, two years ago, a four-year-old Eva got up in the early hours of the morning  and cuddled me on the sofa while I was in early labour with her brother.  Obviously, I tried to be brave so as not to scar my little girl for life, but I gather the manic grin I’d plastered on my face, my oddly contorted body  and the odd inescapable groan/screech/panting combo I let out must have conveyed this was pretty darn painful.

Oooops.  Hopefully, this hasn’t put her off providing me with grandchildren aplenty in the (very) distant future.

A Case of ‘The Grass is Always Greener’?

Well, for those who have visited this blog before, you will probably know that I have a ‘other half’ Rob, we are engaged and we have our three children, and the dog.  And I wouldn’t change things for the world…….Although, sometimes, I have to admit to feeling little pangs of…not jealousy, maybe regret that I didn’t do things a little differently.

Let me begin

My best friend recently got married.  She had the most beautiful wedding abroad, to a man she had been with for 9 years, she has a successful career and (wait for it) a mortgage to boot!  These things, I do not have.

Now that she is married, she will have the luxury and excitement of planning a family and actually trying for a baby.  Instead of just finding herself pregnant (eh-hem, that’s right I found myself with child, at not the most appropriate of times).

She will have the excitement each month of peeing on a stick and praying for it to be positive ( it was the other way round for me, the first time – how awful), the grand announcement to her family, who will all be delighted to hear that she is expecting. Hugs will be had and tears will be shed.  Not the nearly passing out with fear of telling her parents that I had (the first two times anyway).

She will probably even have a baby shower organised  - something I hear is getting quite popular in ol’ Blighty, although, I wouldn’t know – grrrr.

I just feel that, now I have finished with ‘having the baby’s', and it all passed by so quickly, and without much excitement from anyone, I don’t have much to look forward to. I’ve been there, done that, and nobody really cared, except me and Rob of course….Which is all that matters, I hear you cry, and your right, I know that…..I just wish that the announcement of my pregnancies were not shrouded by fear of judgement and worry about how we’d cope financially and emotionally.  Of course, we did cope. All by ourselves. Despite the odds.

Then there’s my other friend, who’s managed to branch out from the city she was born, has a fantastic career, social life and is still single.  She still has the excitement of going out and wondering if Mr. Right is just around the corner.  Or the freedom of only having herself to worry about.  When she does meet Mr.Right she will have all the suspense of when are they going to move in together, when will they buy a dog together, when will they get engaged….Again, I’ve been there done that.  Although, we (not purposely, you understand) had the baby, two of them (!) before we got the dog.

I just can’t help but feel that there is not much left for me.  And just when my children start growing up and I get a bit more freedom, my friends will just be starting their families, and I’ll be the odd one out again.

Saying that, in a couple of years, when F has stopped sharing the bed with us, when I have finally (hopefully) found the Holy Grail of a full nights sleep (which I have not had for 6 and a half years!), when my children are able to entertain themselves for a bit, so I can do the housework, they will be the zombies struggling to get through the day on 4 hours sleep, they will have to learn to accept that having sick and sometimes poo on their clothes is going to be the norm, they will have a house like a complete rubbish dump and no energy to do anything about it, they will have the bleeding nipples, and scars on their nether regions from episiotomy’s (although I wouldn’t wish that on anyone).  And don’t forget the joyless and endless, endless arguments with their other half’s about whose turn it is to bath/put to bed/read the book/get up and see to/put back to bed/change nappy or take to the loo (etc etc) their little ones!

And I will be free from those mostly amazing, yet, thinking back, sometimes hellish days.

So, yes, maybe I do feel envious when they’re jetting off on holidays, or even going on nights out without that knot in the stomach of ‘I hope the kids are ok”, but maybe (I highly doubt it , but maybe) sometimes, they are a little envious of me.  Maybe that’s just life. Maybe everyone thinks, at some point in their life, no matter how well their doing, that someone else’s grass is just a little bit greener……I bet you do!

And we are still great friends, despite our lack of things in common (apart from our bygone years of school or drunken nights out) and will always will be.  Even though I don’t see them nearly as often as I should.

So note to self:  stop viewing everyone else’s life through rose tinted glasses, (jeez, how many cliche sayings do I want to put in here?) because whose life do I really want?  Mine!!!!! I wouldn’t change it for anything!!!! How could I ever, ever question perfection?