When time flies.
HOW IS IT APRIL? Seriously, how? Last time I checked I was embarking on dry January, and vowing to work out more regularly, eat healthily and generally be on the way to my perfect figure by the time the Easter Holidays came. But somehow, because of Dottie, time has been fast-forwarded and I’m not sure how. I mean, half way through January I sat down and started to write Dottie’s first novel, and I’ve been here, at my desk every day, ever since. I’ve been on the school run every day, half term has been and gone, and laundry has made it as far as through the tumble dryer but is littering the surfaces and the floors, the stairs as is paper work, and pots. Then there’s emails. I have a lot of emails to reply too (sorry about that anybody who’s waiting), they’ve been uncharacteristically dumped into two folders “stuff to sort” and “stuff to reply to”. Anyone who knows me well will know this is now how I do things, usually I am almost OTT when it comes to my email filing system, but somehow that’s just not happened. The last two weeks, as I finished my first and second draft and sent them off to my lovely editor friend, have seen me come out of my haze a little bit. I’ve remembered to make packed lunches and not just when we’ve made it to school/nursery so that I’ve had to meekly go and ask for a spare cooked dinner, I’ve even remembered to make them the night before. I’ve had some days off for my birthday, to go shopping with my friend in London, and then of course there was Mother’s Day. A day which to me, signified that I was finally getting my life back in order. After a lovely lie in, and a shower of home made and bought cards, flowers and chocolates, I was left in bed. For a while, I drummed my fingers thinking I should get back to it, thinking of the to-do list that I still had to complete before we go on holiday, but instead, I stayed in bed. I left the Grand Prix on the screen, I read my book, and I actually read stuff. It was great.
Then, when it was announced that I was being treated to lunch, I got out of bed, showered, put on some fake tan, and rifled in my wardrobe for something to wear. Nothing fancy, but something more than jeans, it was sunny after all, I have to take advantage of the sun you never know when it will come back again. I came across this Beautiful Joules Tunic Dress which I’d been sent kindly sent weeks ago (along with two amazing tops for the boys). I’d managed to grab pictures of the boys in half term sporting their stripes, (I’m a sucker for stripes), and the tops have since been worn frequently, washing ridiculously well, being pulled out of the pile under the ironing board which has taken up residence in the corner of the lounge for emergency before school shirt ironing sessions, but the dress, I could never get a photo of it that did it justice.
Usually because I looked like shit. I mean it, late nights, early mornings, LACK OF ALCOHOL, had done nothing to help the bags under my eyes, and when the 3am “omg that would make an amazing story” insomnia kicked in, even when The Chunky Monkey was sleeping through, I have looked like death pretty much the entire year. Anyway, back to the dress. I pulled it out of the wardrobe, and even though I’d chosen it based on the fact I wanted to wear it with my bright red Joules wellies (two things, 1) I love that word and iphone auto correct wellies to willies, 2) WHAT THEY MATCH MY KITCHEN!!), I decided the weather and the occasion was right to bring out my legs, and my new little tan satchel and wear the dress with my beloved brogues. So I pulled it on, and that’s when I discovered that it didn’t fit anymore. Gutted doesn’t cover it. I mean, I knew I’d lost some weight in January, but I’d been trying this whole “don’t weigh yourself every day” thing, and “go with how you feel not how much you weigh” so I hadn’t really thought about it much. So something as simple as a tunic style dress not fitting was a bit of a surprise (especially as my muffin tops are still hugely prominent when I put on a bikini or a pair of jeans). Shit. Was my original thought, followed of course by YES! WHAT DO THE SCALES SAY?! (imagine that sung in the tune to ‘what does the fox say?’) I jumped on and was pleased to report that I was 10lbs lighter then I was on the 1st January. I would like to pretend it’s because I’ve done some magical diet, but I haven’t really. I’ve cut back on carbs, and I’ve been working to a deadline, which means I can’t bring myself to leave my desk to go and prepare anything, instead often opting for a decent breakfast first thing, followed by something like apple and peanut butter for lunch. Anyway, I really wanted to wear the dress. You know when you’ve got it into your head and nothing else is acceptable? It was that, so after emptying what was left of my wardrobe onto the pile under the ironing board, I tried the dress on again, but I couldn’t do it. It just didn’t look right, even if it did give me room for the pizza baby I was intending on devouring, so rummaging about in my basket of accessories I found a tan belt, same colour as my new satchel and brogues and tried it on. I think it looks ok (and the lovely people of instagram thought so too – thanks guys x).
So now I have a new favourite outfit, and when I come back from holiday, a stone heavier due to the amount of bread and olive oil I intend to eat, I will be able to take the belt off and wear it as it’s meant to be. After all, my favourite part are the sleeves anyway – anything for a bit of denim!
I was kindly sent the tops for the boys and the dress for me by Joules. All opinions are my own – they really do wash amazingly well and the fabric is so soft.