I get asked, on quite a regular basis “how do you do it?” – the answer is quite frankly, I don’t have a bloody clue. But when I sit back and think about it, I’ve got a great support network (my kick-ass amazing mum & super mum-in-law), a wonderfully flexible job, a ridiculously hands-on baby-daddy and at the end of everyday there’s always a million things that need doing – but life’s far too short to be worrying about the dusting and the ironing (I know, I spend a lot of time talking about my ironing, rather than actually doing it!). But I haven’t just started writing this post to show off about the fab people around me et al – no no, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret I didn’t even know about. I didn’t realise I was subconsciously giving people the impression that I had all my shit together just from one very tiny thing…
It dawned on me, one evening at a very swish store opening. The owner of this store approached me and after a few minutes of chatting said, “I’ve met you with your fab kids twice now, and the thing that really really impresses me every time I see you, more so than your blog or your mothering, is that your nails are perfect!” Coming from a pretty cool, gorgeous 20 something, this rocked my world for that moment. Little did she know, the two occasions she’d seen me happened to coincide with the only two times I’d painted my nails in the past 12 months. But the fact was, she’d got the impression that whilst running round after 5 boys, a dog, blogging and working – I was somehow so super-organised and together that I always had plenty of spare time to paint my nails to within an inch of Sharmadean Reid (super mama and nail goddess in case you’ve been under a rock for a couple of years!).
That night was an epiphany, by having my nails sparkly, even if only for a day or so before they chipped not only made on-lookers amaze in my multi-tasking (read: if I’m painting my nails the kids dinner will be 10 minutes late!) but they made me feel a little bit more human. Call me superficial and slap my shallow butt – I don’t care, my nails were shiny and red, and I felt great! Maybe cos I’ve never really been “THAT” girl – the girl with the perfect nails; the girl with the perfect pony-tail; the girl who always leaves the house in enough time to grab a skinny latte (I don’t even like skinny lattes!) before a meeting, the girl at the meeting with the correct writing implements and stationary (although I buy all the stationary) – we all know THAT girl! But who am I kidding, not only am I not THAT girl, I don’t think I even qualify as a girl anymore, but I’m not THAT woman either! But if colouring in my claws every now and then can drag this sleep deprived, running late, hair not brushed (for at least 2 days), forgetful woman into a state of feeling fabulous whilst making 20-somethings marvel and overlook the puke stained jumper I’m most likely sporting – then it’s worth 10 minutes every now and then.
Now, I ain’t no beauty-blogger-guru, but after 3 pregnancies, with all their lovely hair and nail growth hormones and the cracked/brittle post-partem nastiness, I’ve gathered a few little tricks: