I am lightweight.
Not a lightweight mother – I am heavyweight at that. Sometimes it feels like I should be given all the heavyweight titles available for the endurance, stamina, energy and general grit that it takes to push through this motherhood thing – though I think that most mothers deserve that recognition.
Heavyweight, champion mothers.
This is what really keeps the world going round.
I am heavyweight mother – but lightweight drinker. The regularity of my alcohol consumption has certainly increased (that post-kids-in-bed drink is the elixir of life), but my capacity for alcohol has decreased.
Two cocktails in and I’m feeling it the next morning. Three pregnancies of minimal drinking has altered me.
It was first night out with some girlies since No.3 came along. To dress up all sparkly and heeled and strut into town with no one able to guess whether or not I had kids is so liberating. Nobody also need know that I didn’t have time to shower because I only had ten minutes to get ready once the children were all finally down. Glamorous on the outside anyway! Makeup and perfume cover up a host of baby-related things.
I find, however, that I don’t know what to do with my hands when they’re not holding a buggy or a child. I’ve forgotten how to walk in heels and I look like some kind of sparkly giraffe teetering about in them. I realise I am walking all the routes that are buggy-friendly when I don’t need to. The feeling of not waiting for the ‘Green Man’ at a pedestrian crossing is like I’m suddenly a crazy risk taker!
Oh the change in my life!
The ‘Red Man’ must laugh at me – he sees my hesitation for sure.
But one mojito in, and as the lights are low, I begin to remember that I am more than a mum. There is more than just that – despite it being so heavily ingrained and so important. Yes, my life is strongly weighted to motherhood at the moment, but as my glass empties I do remember that there is more.