There was a time when handbags were most oft used for dancing around. Gone are the days where I could chuck in a lipstick, cash and keys and bowl out the door, ready for a night on the town. I can’t even remember what I didn’t have in mon sac last year, but my-oh-my, it was tiny. Sometimes I even left the house with a clutch purse! Imagine!
These days I pretty much need to haul around a suitcase alongside la bebe. We are prepared for every eventuality, from poo stained attire (change of outfit, inc. vests and socks in case of major butt explosions) to ravenous mummy who didn’t have time to eat lunch (granola bar/chocolate buttons). There’s a change purse, real purse, bib, baby wipes, muslins, nappies, sudocrem, toys, teethers, hats, shoes… I could go on. Not even Mary Poppins is prepared as I am these days.
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This time last year I was probably starting to pork out a little bit, with the beginnings of life starting to blossom in my uterus. I wasn’t chubby though, and you defo couldn’t tell I was preggers. Up until about this point I had enjoyed being a gym-going, diet-loving size 8.
My, oh my, how things have changed. While my booty was beginning to enlarge a year ago, now I have enough junk in my trunk to travel the world. Twice. Baby got back. (Me, that is, not the actual baby. Her flab folds are cute as opposed to repellent). Seriously though, KR, yo’ momas so fat she go to the cinema and sit next to everybody.
My hen night dress was a size 6! And while I admit there may have been a little pre-wedding starvation going on, it’s a good story to tell the grandkids ain’t it?
I jest. You may be able to tell in my past life that I really cared about things like flat tummies and non-wobblesome bot-bots. Now, I wish I could travel back in time and give that slender, toned biyartch a slap upside the head and tell her to chill out and eat some chocolate. Life’s just too short.
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