There I was, having the life of Riley......eating out in restaurants a couple of times a week, drinking and dancing at will, melting the credit card in BT of a Saturday. Then double whammy - I got pregnant and the recession swallowed my job. Now it's tea with Jeremy Kyle, a glass of Mammy's special medicine accompanied by a naughty single cigarette in the back garden at 7.30pm and a furtive root in Penney's when the boss is asleep in the buggy.
I want to spread the word that birth doesn't have to be the tendon-popping screamathon you see on both factual and fictional television programmes. And that breastfeeding is not just for hairy-legged hippies (though admittedly I have far fewer dates with the razor these days) and is actually the world's best-kept weight loss secret. And most importantly that it is possible to keep the me in Mammy and look halfway stylish, even though you may have to accessorise with burp cloths by day. A couple of cocktails usually help by night.
No comments:
Post a Comment