I’ve Become a Meme Mum
I’m going out tonight for the first time in five years after I’ve become a mum.
I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true!
I’ve never had time away from my children after I’ve given birth to them, let alone spending the night away from them tonight.
I nervously scour through my makeup bag, tucked behind the medicine cabinet; oh yes, that’s where I keep them now because I have not used them in a very long time.
I opened the makeup pouch only to find each piece expired, dried up, and, worst, mouldy.
I get into a state of panic, sadness, and then survivor mode, trying to work out which ones I can still salvage.
As I go through a McGyver state of mind to magically conjure something remotely useful from my expired makeup, I realised that today, at forty-one years old — I’ve become a meme.
Ahh so this is where I find myself to be, I’ve truly become the ‘After kids’ mum!
Okay, I need to keep focus now.
I still need to get myself together to make tonight’s event. I wonder if I can keep my hunger at bay. I eat my dinner at 5.30 pm now, just like my kids!
Right, I also haven’t had alcohol in almost three years, thanks to pregnancy and breastfeeding.
I’m beginning to realise just how sad my current state is.
I get myself ready.
At least I had the foresight to rent a lovely dress that is my size right now.
As I put on the dress, I noticed that my breasts had become deflated, mishap-shaped things which gravity seemed adamant in pulling down. So, armed with chicken fillets and double-sided tapes — I manage to get into the dress.
I’m now ready to leave my door with my husband beside me, and we venture out into the unknown together -
A night out with other adults without the kids!
At this stage, I’m not sure how to feel.
Let me try to explain — the “Me” right now.
I look at her in the mirror in the bathroom of our event — who is she? What is she about?
She isn’t the 30-something anymore who loved a night out and dressing up. Yet, as I stare at her tonight, she isn’t the usual daggy, tired-looking mum running her children to daycare that I know.
She does look nice… so who is she?
I try to remember the sequence of actions and feelings that got me to this moment and realise I’m okay.
I give myself permission to feel okay.
All my makeup may have expired, but they are just makeup. I can get myself new ones. It doesn’t mean my life has expired.
Because I don’t expire.
I keep going.
I keep growing.
I don’t quite know yet who the woman in this mirror staring back at me. I know this is a new path we are forging.
She is me.
And I know she is worth taking care of.
