Priorities Change

They say when you’re a kid, your priorities change. Well, that’s true. But it’s not always exactly how you’d think.

Since having my much-adored little Kenobi, I’ve developed a fixation on pretty things. I’ve bought more necklaces in the last eight months than I have in my entire life, not to mention shoes. The last couple of weeks have additionally resulted in me finally learning how to do my own manicures. And now I am permanently caught in a trap of stalking fashion bloggers.

I am a disgrace! But an increasingly properly-put-together one. I have no illusions of ever being like those people who actually get it, but I’ve developed a real thing for trying.

Okay, so, the why?

Well, let me tell you frankly: when you have a kid, you suddenly become somebody’s mum. Which is all sweetness and light when you think about how awesome your kid is – and it is seriously the best craziest thing ever, really, not a hint of exaggeration, my heart just about goes into pieces thinking about how lucky I must have been to find that beautiful wee creature in my life. But when you’re like “Hi, I am still a girl and I still like being a girl”? It makes you work extra hard to find the pretty things that are out there. So you’re not entirely somebody’s mum. You’re somebody’s mum, and you’re also still a girl. And you’re you. It’s all very complicated.

Now that I’ve justified my new disgusting habit, I will admit that I want to take more pictures and find more colours and smile over sparkly things and AHHH. It’s revolting, honestly.

And with that?

Favourite new shoes:

Favourite new work dress:

Favourite new necklace:

Favourite new polish:

Just a few examples of what a poor excuse of a mother I am. Other mums are joining mommy groups and investing in things that make sense for reality and doing something about the fact that somebody’s dog keeps venturing into the kid’s wading pool, and I’m showing up at the office with my precious boy in a Pikkolo, wearing LBDs and 4″ platform heels. I am confident that I’m being deeply judged, and probably with good reason. But let’s be honest: I was never going to be invited to be part of those gangs anyway, so I’d might as well continue to be happy on my own!

Oh, motherhood, how you’ve changed me.