For the first six months, The Child was like my parasitic twin (in a nice way…). He fed off me; he was only happy in my arms, we slept curled up together in the little single bed in his room, we were inseparable.
In a way, he really felt like an extension of my body rather than a separate entity. A whole new appendage that cried all the time and had incredible range on his projectile vomiting and was way cuter than any of my other appendages, sorry leg. Now he’s a toddler and becoming his own man which is lovely to watch.
His new-found independence is definitely giving him a bit more perspective; it’s as though for the first time he is realising that I am a separate entity. And an entity that apparently looks hilarious naked. So, you know, that’s fairly soul-crushing.
8 times my son’s reaction to my mum bod was really harsh on my self-esteem:
1. When he picked up my boob and said “Moo.”
That was moo-rtifying.
2. That time he grabbed my tummy rolls and tried to bite them
I know it resembles a giant meat sandwich with multiple layers of white meat but please, I don’t need reminding of this.
3. When he points at my tattoo and says “Pider” which is how he pronounces “Spider.”
This wouldn’t be so bad, except it’s NOT a spider, who has a spider tattoo? (Apologies to anyone who does…) It’s a lovely bird. “Birdie,” I say hopefully, “tweet, tweet.” “Pider,” is his stubborn reply.
4. When I try to put in a bit of effort on the make-up front
This usually involves a LOT of poorly applied eyeliner that gets heavier and messier with every pass until I look vaguely like a contestant on RuPaul’s Drag Race. The Child finds this transformation jarring apparently, I know because he looks at my face and cries.
5. My vagina is hilarious
And believe me, it’s not doing anything on purpose, she’s not performing extracts from her one-woman show “I am Vagina, hear me roar.” I’m not sure whether it is my vagina specifically that is so funny or if it is vaginas in general which obviously would be preferable. There’s no way of ascertaining this unless I convince someone else to show him their vagina, which may be the creepiest sentence ever committed to print.
6. My bingo wings make really good peek-a-boo props
When the arm-flab can be draped over the face in the manner of a heavy flesh curtain, it’s not a great self-esteem day.
7. When he points and laughs at my nipples
Why does he find them so funny? Pointing and laughing is not the reception anyone wants in response to their exposed body. Maybe it’s because since breastfeeding they look so mournful and downtrodden. “Don’t mind him,” I whisper to the left one that has unfurled from the bra and is now lolling on my stomach having apparently lost the will to continue. “He’s an ungrateful little sh*t, who didn’t deserve all that lovely immunity.”
8. When he sees my mum pouch rolls as a convenient storage possibility
He tries to store his toy cars in between the mum pouch rolls; this is not good for my self-esteem. Or the cars themselves as the mum pouch is most definitely capable of crushing them.
