Typical Monday. Even when I'm on maternity they can still be a croc of shit. Speaking of crocs, I once saw a quote on Instagram saying...
"If Monday were a shoe, it'd be a croc"
Never a truer word written!!!!
The husband started work later today as his training times had changed. He seemed to get out of bed the wrong side. Maybe it was the fact Olly was shoving dinosaurs in his face before 7:30am which started his bad mood. Whilst I was at theatre school (where I studied my National Diploma in professional dance) we studied Anatomy and Physiology. We were told males go through a 6 week cycle, similar to a females menstrual cycle but minus the period. They do however have the imbalanced hormones and mood swings amongst other delightful attributes. I'm not sure how much truth is in this but I definitely believe it. Olly waking up to Steve being here is a novelty as most days he's left the house before anyone has got up. I asked him if he'd read my blog. No. Was his blunt reply. Quickly followed by "when have I had time?" Sod him were my thoughts. An hour or so later I approached the subject again. "Try and have a read if you get time" I say. "I wouldn't mind your opinion" his response this time was classic Steve... "Why? I'm the only one who isn't in the title" maaasive case of only child syndrome!!!!!
Anyway, with him being here our morning got somewhat delayed. By 11am nancy was the only person dressed in the house (minus steve who had now gone to work) after 3687432567 billion attempts to get Olly to put his clothes on I gave up. I felt like I was starting the bloody menopause with how hot and flustered I'd gotten myself. I left him in his bedroom half dressed throwing himself around the floor. Nancy was lay in her cot having a stretch and a coo, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to put my face on.
Now thanks to serious over plucking in the late 90's/early 00's my eyebrows are virtually none existent. Despite being a brunette, what little eyebrows I have are actually fair. So on a daily basis I go through the ritual of drawing them on. It's a massive ball ache but means must. I used to have HD brows done by a fantastic lady called Elaine Coyle based in Derby. If you have brows to work with, she creates eyebrow miracles. For me it was pointless as it was dye on my skin which washed off pretty much straight away.
So I invested in some Anastasia Beverley Hills Dipbrow and a wonderful brow brush from MAC.
Without blowing my own trumpet, after years of practice my eyebrow game is quite strong. As I was finishing up, just evening them out Olly started banging on his bedroom window. Louder and louder, my concentration started to falter. With his banging came tears from Nancy's nursery, my palms started to sweat as I knew my time was now limited. As I returned my brow brush to my make up bag is slipped out of my hand. Almost in slow motion it fell, fell towards the bathroom floor. Twisting and turning like an Olympic gymnast. It hit the floor and rolled towards the back of the toilet pipes. To a deep, dark, unreachable place. I dropped to my knees in sheer desperation trying to salvage said brush. It was no use... It was gone. In to an abyss. Never to been seen again unless we rip the plumbing out. More chance of me being asked to be on the cover of Vogue than that happening.
As maternity pay is so crap combined with there not being a MAC in Derby, from tomorrow I will either a) offend your eyes b) be sporting a hat c) be sporting self given bangs or d) signing up for cabin fever again...
Happy Monday everyone. Only 4 sleeps until the weekend!
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