Pretty Mummy

Lately I have been getting called "poo poo head" a lot. Which is preferable to being hit, but still I'm not too delighted with this. I'm all for creative nicknames though, so I asked my daughter what she thought I might like to be called instead, and she came up with some good ideas, one of which was "pretty mummy". Since then, every time she wants to make a point, she has been using that moniker instead. A great improvement and much better for my self esteem.

Until today. I do daycare pick up, so every evening we all come into the house, and we have a routine; Geekygirl closes the garage door with the magic button and runs upstairs. Orangegeek the cat slips into the garage and pees on the car tires, and I chase him ineffectively around the garage for a while until he decides to head back up to the house, then I stagger up the stairs with Geekybaby (now such a large lad that he needs to be renamed Geekyboy, or Geekylinebacker), balanced on one hip, and the lunchbags, my laptop, and my purse giving ballast on the opposite shoulder.

Geekygirl usually changes into her pink tutu, her pink and orange swimsuit, or her pink sleeping beauty costume as soon as she gets home. She is big on pink these days. Some feminist Mums I know get oddly angry about pink. I've seen long emails on our parent group requesting advice on how to stop little girls gettings sucked into the Disney marketing pink machine. Personally I don't have the energy, and besides, I quite like pink. I think us feminists should reclaim it and make it our own.

I, after starting the kids dinner, letting the dog out and feeding the cats, change into my "I'm relaxed and I'm home" gear; slipper socks, tatty grey sweatpants and an old blue sweatshirt with native american symbols embroidered on it that I bought in Bryce Canyon when we camped there back in July 2002, and got caught in a freak snowstorm. This evening when I reappeared in the kitchen so attired I heard "But Mummy, you are not pretty". I looked down at myself and realized the truth in that statement. Comfy, but really not pretty. I've let myself go.

Maybe it is time for me to get myself a nice comfy tutu to change into when I get home from work. Or at least some pink sweatpants and a spangly sweater!