IT’S a funny thing, but becoming a parent forces you to give up on childish ideas of who the adult you might be.
Since having Sonny Jim I’ve realised that being a journalist in New York – living a Sex and the City style life – isn’t actually for me.
Since becoming a mummy I’ve known for certain that I’m never going to just jump on a plane and lose myself on a beach somewhere, working in bars by night so I can sleep in the sunshine all day.
The ship has sailed for me to suddenly become the girl with the signature red lipstick and envious eyeliner flicks. With a picture perfect city apartment.
I’m never going to grow out of being clumsy.
I’ve never been more happy in myself, but this transition from the idea of the grown up you, to the reality of it, is easier for some than others. Though no one ever seems to talk about it – instead we all seem to muddle through in our own ways, in our own little worlds. Continue reading