Let’s face it, from about six months pregnant and on, if you’re not looking at your wardrobe each morning and asking yourself ‘Is today an appropriate day to wear leggings as pants?’ then you’re making the rest of us jealous. Today I am wearing leggings, as borderline appropriate leggings, the shirt I’ve got on reaches my thighs which I think qualifies as a dress so I’m letting myself off the hook.
It feels like forever since I looked in my wardrobe and just pulled something out to slip it on, (well something other than the four maternity appropriate outfits I’ve got on a fairly high rotation). It hasn’t been that long, it just feels long. Like it feels a long time since I’ve gone to the toilet in peace or been able to cook dinner without someone (don’t worry it’s usually my daughter) playing hide and seek up my skirt, I can’t remember the last time I did the groceries without her captaining the trolley yelling ‘GO GO GO’ as we race around the aisles; or time every single outing around naptime or mealtime. The things that so diligently govern my life at the moment, and seem so omnipresent will, in a couple of years, just be hilarious memories.
I walked past a lady this morning who had two daughters who looked about eight and nine years old and I realised, in eight years that will be me. No pram, so maternity pants, no playdoh in my hair, just a normal mum with two kids who can feed themselves, toilet themselves and bath themselves (I suspect).
A quote I love by C.S. Lewis says — ‘Isn’t it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back, everything is different…’ It is. This time last year I had a four month old,I remember it vividly, because last night, as with this time last year, there was a street party on our street, I’m talking the whole street was shut down. Last year I had no idea that thousands of people were on my doorstep until my husband came home from work and told me. I’d had the curtains shut all day, this year I was out of my pajamas before 10am and raring to go. I don’t remember at what point the pajama time crept earlier, but it did, thank goodness.
At the moment I’m being reminded that nothing is forever. The good and the bad. Everything is seasonal, like when you get a fringe cut, love it or hate it it’s only gonna stay a while. Carpe Diem, rock that fringe like Zooey Deschanel this might be the only time you ever do.