My son is five months old.
This morning I went for a coffee with someone who is always immaculately turned out. I woke late and had but one hour to get me and baby ready. I rushed around like a mad thing. Dragged a comb through hair that has not had a decent cut for six(!) months. It is twice as long as I like, hopelessly out of shape and falling out in handfuls. I filled in the chips on my toenail varnish, creating a patchwork of shades visible in my sandals. I dragged on unflattering shorts that fit my larger size and a t-shirt the covers my new muffin top. I half-heartedly tried to tidy my eyebrows and moustache, somehow unsure I will ever regain that former tidy look. I had shaved my legs two days ago and it would have to do.
I had never understood mothers who look like slobs, and always promised myself I would remain careful about my appearance, no matter what. But five months in and I have only every looked (and felt) this bad in the depths of depression. How in god's name did it come to this? I love my son to bits, but I don't half hate being a slob.