Nine Years

Today is my husband and I’s ninth wedding anniversary.  We forgot.  Or rather, I remembered last night and he’d forgotten altogether.  It’s therefore a huge…non-event, unlike our wedding almost a decade ago.  This is us then…

…and this is us now (well, late 2011 but it was the most recent one of the two of us that I could find).

Nine years ago today I woke up bright and early and bounded out of bed, excited at the prospect of becoming a ‘Mrs’.  Today I was wrenched from a deep sleep by a toddler head-butting me and enquiring, ‘Nice seep (sleep), Mummy?’

Nine years ago today I was treated to a peaceful full English breakfast by my Mum and Step-Dad.  Today I ate soggy peanut butter on toast whilst three boys demanded breakfast and juice, argued over what to watch on television, fought over who would sit on my knee and bemoaned the fact that we’ve run out of milk.

Nine years ago today I had a long, hot, leisurely shower, using expensive shower gel that co-ordinated with my specially chosen perfume and body lotion and I had been waxed, buffed, polished and plucked to within an inch of my life.  Today I had a short, lukewarm, chaotic shower with a toddler who made a great show of washing his bits with Tesco’s own shower gel before spreading his legs and casually peeing in a yellow puddle than ran in a downward stream towards my feet.  Meanwhile I checked my legs and pits to see whether I could get away with another day of not shaving or whether my body hair had joined forces to form one long and complex French plait.

Nine years ago today I was having my hair twisted into an elaborate up-do with white flowers dotted prettily throughout.  Today my hair is in its usual scruffy bun that hasn’t even required the use of a brush and I have something dotted throughout that is, as yet, unidentified: peanut butter?  Snot?  Saliva?

Nine years ago today I was having my makeup professionally done in subtle, natural shades that would bring out my eyes and enhance my best features.  Today…well, as yet I haven’t got any make-up on but that’s only because I’m still in the house.  When I do go out I will be using a garden trowel to attempt an even complexion and lashings of mascara so that people can actually SEE my eyes as they’re currently the proverbial ‘piss holes in the snow’ due to lack of sleep.

Nine years ago today I was carefully pulling on a £500 dress and ivory shoes boasting delicate ankle ribbons over meticulously pedicured feet.  Today I have pulled on some jeans so old that I don’t remember what they cost and a ‘two for £8’ vest from Dorothy Perkins with slipper boots from Tesco boasting coffee stains over spotty socks that are hiding my manky feet.

Nine years ago today I was quaffing Buck’s Fizz with my three bridesmaids/best friends and examining my beautiful bouquet of calla lilies. Today I’m quaffing, nay slugging, several cups of coffee so I can function without falling asleep with a bare-bottomed toddler playing with his willy and a four-year old who keeps telling me I stink.  I’m also trying to avoid stepping on Lego left by my eight-year old son and nine-year old niece whilst examining my shit-hole of a house, trying to find the motivation to clean it.

Nine years ago today I was the glowing bride-to-be walking down the aisle, centre of attention, to the tune of Mendolssohn’s ‘Wedding March’.  Today I’m the Distressed Housewife, centre of my family’s world…when it comes to providing clean clothes, meals, snacks, drinks, entertainment and cuddles, locating wayward items, answering obscure questions, changing toilet rolls, picking up wet towels from the floor and dog poo from the garden and trying to blog to the tune of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Peppa Pig 😉