|Stimulating my children through public indignity|
|Nurturing my children with Fairy non-biological|
And on occasion, when I leave the house, I look like this:
My main place of work, as many of you have already seen, is here:
|Hub of the house|
My evenings are spent reading bulb catalogues under a woolly tartan rug in an armchair while the Vicar sits under a woolly tartan rug on the sofa and plays Angry Birds.
It was not always like this. No, once upon a time I answered to Anna. I read the paper over hot tea in at breakfast time and I thought a wet wipe was a killer cocktail. In those days my place of work was an ergonomic chair in a glass office with a latte machine. And in those days I could sweep men off their feet:
|My two-day body guard training course|
And transport them to heavenly spheres:
|High life in Bavaria|
Sometimes when my feet are mired in cat litter and my thoughts assaulted by infant demands, I think wistfully of those days when I was myself. When my sofa rugs were edgy stripes, not tartan, and when only my nose blew into the tissues that swelled my handbag.
But then I imagine a house without my babies and a glass office without school runs to recall me and I realise that despite snot on my sleeve and an enslavement to Hoover, motherhood still allows me to fly high:
Katetakes5 wants us all to show the world through a long-ago photo that we were once more than just mothers. You can see how very much more others once were here. And tell me, how was it for you?