My post-pregnancy body is on a downward spiral: - Belly, previously a prized possession: now a deflated balloon. - Eye socket skin: threatening to release eyeballs if I don't sleep soon. - Hair: untended, unwashed, limp. - More hanging body parts hanging out in my recovery mesh underpants. Tummy-grabbing, nana-knickers, courtesy of St Mary's Hospital, after a painfully natural birth. (Disclosure: Turns out that these disposable undies, un-disposed of, are far comfy-er than the skimpy red ones I wore at conception. And, in the gospel according to this mama, they have earned their own sanitized brand of "sexy": over-washing has worn the mesh full of additional holes. Hubby, however, needs convincing of this theory.) Thankfully, there are two things, well three, that defy the droopy nature of my 'new mama' style. Firstly, introducing...drum roll... - Double-threat, bulbous bazoongas: Phenomenal fertile factories of milk. Milk that could easily be mista...
Hyper-focus and Chaos: Absurd Short Stories