- Discovered gin.
- Discovered that Topshop is no longer for you… as their clothes aren’t made for women who’s hips (and vaginas) have been slightly *cough* widened by the human-being that’s just fallen out of them… Leggings are the answer. Crop-tops are not.
- Developed a slightly unhealthy crush on at least one CBeebies presenter.
- Had a four-day-long WhatsApp conversation purely about infant faeces. And how much you’ve had in your hair and/or mouth recently. And not even cared…
- Remember when you used to fantasy shop for exotic holidays… beautiful shoes… dresses that barely covered your womb…? Well. Now you do that with buggies. Yep. It’s really come to that. You can name every model, make and colour pack at a mere glance… You should probably punch yourself in the face right now.
- Called your husband/partner/significant other horrific things in the midst of a fight you cannot remember what is even about… (BUT DEFINITELY NOT BECAUSE OF FUCKING HORMONES. OK.) Then cried because you’re being such a dick. And eaten a lot of cake. Then called them even more horrific things because they made you cry and eat cake. Bastards.
- Discovered there is nothing you cannot do one handed. (Including crying, eating cake and calling your husband a bastard.)
- Slept in your car. Outside your house. In full daylight. As your baby naps. Not giving a flying shit what the neighbours think because YOU ARE ACTUALLY TWATTING SLEEPING.
- Broken almost every pre-baby rule you ever set yourself… As you pull into McDonald’s, feed them chicken McNuggets in the pushchair, whilst they entertain themselves with Peppa Pig on your iPhone, and play with knives as you cry…
- Left the house with your baby (after three or four days build up and planning. Obvs.) wearing something you found on the bedroom floor that didn’t smell ‘too bad’, with not a scrap of makeup on, and your hair twisted up on top of your head looking like something a cat regurgitated, in the hope none of your real-life friends will see you… And bump into everybody you have ever actually met. Including the postman, a colleague who is wearing lipgloss just to taunt you in a twatting pencil skirt, and at least one of your exs. Fucking excellent.
- Gin. (Yes. Again.) (You know why.)
#gin
