Freedom Fridays – Under Maintenance

When Harry first started going to nursery I had big plans. I was going to use the time to visit art galleries and exhibitions. He’s been going on Fridays for a year now. Zero galleries have been visited. Zero exhibitions have been explored. Many lunches with friends up in a London have been had. But mostly, I have indulged in essential mama maintenance, when not spending the entire day on the sofa with a book and Bake Off.

It has been said throughout my adult life that I am high maintenance. My husband would probably be the biggest advocate of this statement, as he now foots the bill. By means of a thank you, I devote my Freedom Friday top three to him – the three most essential mum maintenance activities.

Hair colouring – since having Harry, I have come to resemble Cruella D’Evil with far more frequency than is acceptable. It seems every two weeks now, streaks of grey pepper the sides of my head. With men, salt and pepper seems to be a mark of distinction (hello Mr Clooney). With me it seems to be the markings of a badger in reverse. Why is it though the dye seems to be programmed to spray over the bathtub, my ears and my forehead rather than the necessary problem areas? Today I am sporting a rather fetching stain below my eyebrow, though the grey has been eradicated for another few weeks.

Bonus points – dye development time used to vacuum upstairs. (Spot the facial stains)

Nails – this is one of my majorly frivolous but satisfying habits. My nails are notoriously shite. If I paint them myself, they smudge, break and look like they’ve been tended to by a five year old let loose in a nail bar. Today I opted for a cheery seasonal… black. As you can see – my attempt to economise and have them done once a month is not going to make me prom queen!

Oooh – shiny. And black… like my soul!

Eyebrows – I think you can chart my adult life by the width of my brow. There was the full unplucked bush of my late teens and early twenties. Moving in to the tweezing of the potential monobrow in my mid twenties. A low point was the severe and rather angry surprised line of my early thirties. I’ve settled on a happy curve with some girth and liberal use of eyebrow pencil in my forties. My eyebrows and me are now in a happy place. Never happier than when they’ve had a good threading session. Is it a little sadistic to say I quite enjoy the experience?

So there you have it. My top three essentials and I’m £46 lighter for the pleasure of it. Will my husband notice this refreshed, plucked and mildly preened mama tonight? Not a chance. Will he notice the slight blackened hue of the bathtub? Every time! Roll on next Friday.


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