What’s with my frump life?

Since having Emily I’ve been guilty of something. I seem to have forgotten how to look after myself.

I just don’t do much things for myself like I used to because I have so many other things that I need to do on a daily basis. My hair is always up in a ponytail, I wear leggings way too much, I think this morning I forgot to put on face cream, and I can’t remember the last time I put on make up and wear a bra that didn’t come from the frumpy granny section of Marks.

When I was pregnant, I made myself promise that I would never let myself go. Most of the things that I did pre-Emily obviously I couldn’t really do after, but I could still lead my best life with a mini human too.

I vowed to myself I’d never become a frumpy mummy, I would continue to be confident and embrace each day as it came. I wanted to be fun, cool, confident, accepting of my post-baby body. And whilst it’s taken a lot longer than I had planned to lose that baby weight, it took me the best part of the year to gain some confidence back, but somewhere in the process of having Emily to now being a toddler, I’ve become a frumpy mum.

It’s happened.

I don’t even know when it happened.

But it has.

And I’m fully submerged in it.

It’s not like I can’t dress myself properly or spend a few extra minutes in the morning doing my make up, I just seem to have not bothered with it.

Which is just crazy.

I suppose half of the excuse is down to time. The other is, I don’t even know! But I need to find the time that I seem to just miraculously lose almost every day, to spend a little bit more in myself. That investment I always talk about, but never do.

But there shouldn’t be an excuse. No one wants to wake up in the morning looking like shit, there may have been moments during my hungover 20s when I thought that was totally cool, but not now, not in my 30s with a mini me.

Here’s my excuses…

Time – it just doesn’t exist as a parent. It doesn’t. End of.

TiredI’m so bloody tired. Even when I get the sleep I somehow have my mind on autopilot to just keep waking in the night and wait out for the sounds. Not to mention the days when Emily is really clingy, that’s like another level of tired. All the other moments where you have 1,000,000,001 things to do, but somehow time yet again is not on your side, and you’re just running around like a headless chicken.

You’ll always be second – when you become a new parent, you become accustomed to putting yourself last. Your baby becomes your number one and your list of priorities slowly dwindle away, so making yourself look less crappy becomes the last thing on the list up against your mini me, then groceries, meal planning, household chores, work and everything else.

Looking after yourself doesn’t fit into your schedule– I can’t remember the last time I went and got my haircut. Before Emily I always used to go to my mum for all my hair needs. Bonus for having a mum who is a hairdresser I suppose. Since I’ve moved to Ramsgate, the luxury of having my hair done by mum has since gone out the window and even with the few hair appointments I’ve had since Emily, I can’t actually remember the last time I got my hair done, or even the last time when I got it done without a child attached to me. I’m pretty sure I’ve just rescheduled a hair appointment without actually setting a date because of time.

But whatever excuse I’m making, I need to put an end to it. After having a shower this morning, I just looked in the mirror at myself I just thought ‘seriously what the fuck is wrong with you.’

I really need to sort myself out.

My hair needs a good flash of colour thrown on it, I need to shape up my body, I need to stop fucking snacking that’s another one, I need to buy clothes that make me look more human and less frumpy. I need to just do it and stop making whatever petty crap excuses I can find and just do it.

I need to invest more in myself.

Not for anyone else just me.

I do for too much of that thing where I complain about everything yet not actually do anything about it. I need to just kick myself up the arse and go to the gym more so then I was doing a month ago, find that routine that makes it all work.

But, I’ll admit it has been so easy to just let myself go. Which is a shame because I’ve never done this before. I don’t understand why I have had to do it now since having a baby. The stupid thing is, I thought when I had Emily, it would be so easy to just jump back into my prepregnancy weight, where I would look just amazing running around after my toddler with not an inch of fat in sight.

But no…

Instead Frumpity Dan has arrived and no clue when it started but it’s still here and it shouldn’t be.

Whilst comfy clothes are great sometimes, it shouldn’t be an everyday thing.

And what’s with the leggings? When did this become such a thing?

Or the mum jeans that are so ripped and fashionable yet doesn’t work when you look like you’ve been dragged through the hedge backwards.

So this week, I’m pushing myself to go back to the gym.

Every morning when I take Emily to nursery I should walk around and swim or run, or stretch and whatnot. I should do it all and stop making excuses. Same with the hair appointment, the nail appointment and whatever else I’ve forgotten.

I need to just do it without the excuses.

Because it’s too dam easy.

I want to look in the mirror and not say ‘who are you?!’

I want to be that mum that embraces her 34th year in November looking and feeling happy. Who looks after herself and just looks amazing.

So, whilst I write this, all those mums out there who feel the frump, I’m with you. But it ends now, it should end now for all of us.

Let’s do this together. xx

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