I thought it was about time I treated myself, and seeing as I’m rather skint at the mo, I thought perhaps the New Look card should take a beating.

I’m at this bizarre post-birth stage where my normal body hasn’t quite returned home yet. Giving birth saw me drop from a whopping 12 and a half stones to 9 stones. Fastest weight loss programme I ever heard of.

Despite the milk factory in my discustingly unsexy nursing bra, my boobs are of a rather normal size. My pre eclamptic swelling has gone, I have ankles again and can see my feet. However I have this little paunch…

A paunch small enough to allow me into SOME of my pre prego clothes, (but none of my nice ones).

A paunch big enough to make it look as though I’m still “with child”.

A paunch that horrifyingly has hundreds of tiny marks on – which I can’t decide if they are stretch marks or cellulite… but revolting either way. (And highlighted by the evil uv lights they put in fitting rooms!)

A paunch that will forever make me regret the three days in pregnancy that I switched my belly butter for calamine (bloody HELLP Syndrome makin me itch like a bitch!).

A paunch that may go against everything I ever said, and lower my self esteem enough to dictate, whether or not, I ever wear a bikini or hot pants again!

So you see I needed this shopping trip to boost my confidence…

I took 11 dresses into that fitting room. The first few dresses I tried on were a no-no, it wasnt me, it was the cut – it just looked prettier on the hanger! I soon found a dress that I thought actually might work for me. As I’m admiring myself from a variety of different angles, Bunny pipes up with:
…..”Mummy, what’s that bump?”
Me: “What bump?”
Bunny: “That bump in the front of the dress… just here” *points to the paunch*
Me: “Thats my tummy”
Bunny: “Why’s it sticking out so much?”
Me: “It’s not! Don’t you like this one?”
Bunny: “No I don’t like it”
Me: “Ok I’ll try a different dress” *Feeling a tad deflated and a little annoyed*

The next dress I try on, Bunny tells me my tummy sticks out the holes in the front of the dress. Bugger. I’d liked that one too!

Bunny: “Are you buying that dress mummy?”
Me: “No” *Feeling irritated*
Bunny: “Why not?”
Me: “because you just told me I look fat in it”
Bunny: “No I didn’t”
Me: *Speechless and no longer in the mood for an arguement*

I try the rest of the dresses on but none of them stood up and screamed “BUY ME, I’M THE ONE!”. There were two I considered buying but one of these was fuschia pink and made me look like a cross between No-Tits-Barbie and a squashed radish. The other looked fantastic from the front and sides, but due to the fact I couldnt do the zip up (it wouldnt reach), I had my ass hanging out the back and didnt think it would be very practical to walk backwards everywhere or never take my coat off!

Somewhere in the middle of all this, I am cursing myself for not wearing make-up and noticing that my hair is faded and scraggy looking at the ends (did I remember to brush it on the way out the door??? I guess not!) Bunny, has gotten bored of opening the curtain every 40 seconds to show the rest of the fitting rooms, me in my unmatching underwear with my damp breast pads hanging out. She’s now instead doing a funny dance and very loudly announces “I’m going to wet myself”. 
Feeling COMPLETELY deflated, confidence shattered and staring at the paunch in the mirror, (wondering whether it needs feeding with firming cream or tightening with sit-ups), I answer “Well what do you want me to do about it? I can’t magic up a toilet!”… Yeah well done mummy, brilliant… Time to go home I think!

So needless to say, I leave with no dress. I attempt to buy a sparkly belt only to find STORE CARD SAYS NO! Wtf? I actually paid this one! Having fished out my high interest credit card, I leave town having bought the two items I thought I’d never need, want or buy! At least not this side of 40. I can’t even bring myself to say it… so here’s a pic instead!


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