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So... it's been a while

Blog, I've missed you.

Hello again.

I woke up this morning, feeling groggy after the usual teething-baby late-evening-early morning chain of disturbances. I looked in the mirror and sucked my teeth in shock - where did my eyes go? Is that grey hair? How come the creases on my pillow have transferred to my face? How the heck did I get so old?

But after the initial shock fades, a new shock surfaces - the astounding fact that I kind of don't care all that much. I'm no spring chicken but I actually think I'm ok with that. The world isn't going to stop turning because I'm not smooth of brow and unbagged of eye. I'm a mother of three, after all. I'm supposed to look a bit haggard.

This doesn't mean I'm going to give up and start scarfing gigantic donuts for breakfast, but maybe I am going to give myself a break. At the age of 37, it is ok to have wrinkles and crinkles, rogue wiry hairs and a bit of a wobbly rear. Why beat myself up about it? Vanity can be a double-edged sword; I'm hanging mine up for a while.

The Belly is seven months old now. Oh, and what a delight she is. A chubby bundle of giggles, she brings a smile to my face despite the sleep deprivation and not yet being able to do up the button on my jeans. Vanity doesn't count for much when a chubby finger is trying to insert itself up your left nostril, delivered with a devastatingly gummy smile and twinkling blue eyes. My two big girls tell me I'm gorgeous even when my hair is more 'fro than ready-to-go and my face looks like a melted candle. Happy days.

But a 7-month maternity leave is enough for any gal, surely? The baby bubble is still present but I'm starting to feel a bit blurry around the edges, so maybe it's time to wrench my brain out of its hormonal doze...

So here I am. Bruised but enriched by the maternal-merry-go-round. Ready to blog again. Are you ready to listen? 

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