You can mostly tell the mums who are still at home with small children on the school pick up: they are the ones with cookie dough smeared down the front of their tracksuit pants. Or they have “flowers” painted on their cheeks with poster paints by a four year old that make them look like an extra in The Dawn of The Dead. Or they’re wearing a maternity top three years after they last were pregnant. Or they’ve got an apron tied backwards around their neck because they’ve been playing “Super Heros”.
Or maybe that’s just me.
As I walked to the school the other day, with a large partially-rotten hibiscus tucked firmly behind my ear at the The Pixie’s insistence, I thought to myself: At some point in my labour with Mr Justice one too many people examined me while I was in stirrups and I crossed over some invisible line into a land where there was No Shame. And there was no return from that point. No return at all.
But no sooner had I thought that, I then found myself agonising over which ear I should be wearing that rotten flower behind. From what I could remember of the Hawaiian tradition, a flower behind one ear denotes you’re married, and behind the other that you’re single.
And then I woke up to myself. I realised that it Just Didn’t Matter because I was pushing the Valco Mobile Home down the road to the school, with my hair resembling a fright wig and wearing “The Berocca Grin” from a hastily drunk glass of that Magic Orange Potion which made me look like I’d just been pashing a jar of Orange Tang.
Clearly, I told myself, nobody was going to be checking out which ear I had put the flower behind in case I was “available”. Nobody. Not even my own husband.
I then recalled with great clarity how, when I was in my 20s, I used to look at women who said they were dressing “just for themselves” and I would think “Yeh, but you also want to get laid, right?”
Now, with three children, the last thing I want to do is to get laid. Hell, no! But (I thought to myself) I still dress for other people to a certain extent. I dress so that my children won’t be too embarrassed to be seen with me in public. I dress so that my friends still invite me places and buy me lots of drinks. I dress so that my husband won’t suddenly shout “What the hell is That Thing in the kitchen and what has it done with the girl I married?”.
And then I concluded this inner-monologue with the following truth: if I was really going to dress “just for me”, I’d probably never get out of my pyjamas because most days everything else just requires Too Much Effort.
At a supermarket in my town, which is more than usually frequented by fresh young things (along with the rest of us,) apparently there is a secret code regarding how you place your bananas in the supermarket trolley.
Curving up as they recline on their backs, or rounded back up makes all the difference as to whether you are signalling your availability for dates etc….
The only trouble is that although I am so not on the prowl, I have no idea which is which. It makes banana-buying for the ravenous hoards at home so nerve-wracking that I mostly go to other supermarkets in case of sideways glances in the fruit & veg dept & un-called-for accusations of leading strangers on!
Suddenly, what happened to me the other day with my upturned bananas, left-ear flower and red hankie sticking out of the back pocket, makes perfect sense.
The shame of it.
Don’t I remember a rule about comments being too clever?
Are you telling me other people know you’re wearing a maternity shirt by looking? I thought it would pass because it’s in fashion. And an apron flowing behind must look better than a baby blanket tied around the neck. Finally, do you walk around with bandanas on the head and an eye patch? Because I get the weirdest looks now.
Woops – too clever I’m sorry.
Please excuse me – I’ve been quarantined home by myself for a week with a grotty chest infection thing and need an outlet apparently!
This week my dress style is ancient nightie & dressing gown, but at least I don’t need to leave the house as the kids are getting themselves places – some advantages to me (and them) getting older!
I second that maternity type tops are still in fashion! Clutching at straws I know.