Show me what you’ve got,’ the photographer said to me today at a casting.
Ah…I’m wearing too much makeup, my hair hasn’t been done by a professional since my wedding and the dress I’m wearing is now too big because I bought it to wear to a wedding shortly after I gave birth when I felt like I was still carrying bits of Q around inside me and you want me to ‘show you what I’ve got.’
Well I’ll give it a whirl since this is for an ad that pays quite well and that could certainly raise my self-esteem after the recent week of knock-backs I’ve had.
So I channelled my inner Elle Macpherson, figuring Kate Moss wasn’t the best example and not knowing the names of any current supermodels and showed him my stuff realising afterwards that my lipstick had bled and you could see my maternity bra.
Classy.
I’ve got the gig for sure.
I raced home from the casting, worried Q was missing my boobs, only to discover my mum – bless her - had taken her for a walk in her chariot so she could say hello to all her fans.
And now I don’t know how best to use this precious time…to eat without interruption, to write, to clean, to tidy, to sleep or to run around the place doing everything with two arms just because I can.
Typically, I’ll probably try to do it all and then wonder why I expect my child to be any different.
The apple, my friends, does not pitch itself far from the tree.
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