Innercitywoman's Blog

  • 02:50:18 pm on February 23, 2010 | 0

    They always know how to pull that rug from under our feet, don’t they?

    For years, Mums have been happy in the knowledge that for nine wonderful months they could eat whatever the blooming hell they liked. Dads knew we were hormonal and to back off.
    We could bin the guilt.  That suppressing, immobilising, all-consuming guilt that is our daily lot.  In fact, studies show that not only do women constantly feel guiltier than men; they are also riddled with an average of thirty-eight negative thoughts a day!
    This negative thinking covers everything; our hair, our house, our cars, even our kids.  We wonder if our little treasures are as polite, as cute, as educated or as well-spoken as the neighbours’ kids.
    However, what women guilt-trip most about is what passes between their lips.

    Even indulging in a sliver of cake at our kid’s birthday party can march us to the brink of suicide.
    So of course, when we get preggers, we are over the moon!  It’s the get out of jail card. The Great Escape.  Freedom from our prison of constant dieting, calorie counting and comparing our bums to other mums’ bums.
    But this week, they did it again.  They closed off the food counter.  Apparently, eating for two is a myth.  And just to rack the guiltometer up higher, they tell us that all that added sugar and stuff is doing the little babas more harm than good; it’s giving them a taste for all things naughty.  Still, what a wonderful myth it was.  Didn’t it make the nine months of excess weight, future stretch marks and droopy boobs tolerable?
    Getting Your Groove Back Tip:

    Well, I say it’s all about moderation.  You’ve got to allow for the small treats in life to remain sane in this madness of motherhood.  You choose.  A hormonal mother or, a slightly guilty tubby one? A message to the darling husbands out there too. If your dear wife is about to devour a sugar-laden donut to control some of those dithering hormones waiting in the wings  just ready to explode, like a Chinese firecracker, just look away.
    Share this tip with someone who needs it using the boxes below.  Chow. X
    Check out my family column in the South London Press,  every fortnight in the Pulse Section.

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