Well last night! What can I say, I haven’t laughed so much in a long long time and my jaw is certainly paying the price for it now. I feel as though I’ve been chewing on a massive ball of gum all night because my face muscles are so overworked from laughing and smiling. So I’m sitting here in my dressing gown, smashed up hair, no make-up and a floppy sad face in order to try and counteract the comical expressions from last night and allow my face to recover. I feel as though I could dip my dehydrated burning eyes into a bowl of mint yoghurt at the Indian restaurant and carry on the night shift with our restless little Gabriele.
So it was touch and go whether last night would come together for Luca’s brothers surprise birthday party as both of the brothers had been feeling ill at work all day and were debating between going for a ‘quiet dinner’ or staying at home; as twenty-something eager friends gathered in the Indian restaurants garden already slightly tipsy and trying to stay quiet in the dark. And the moment he walked in everybody erupted into an alcohol fuelled rendition of happy birthday with massive clown grins on every face and jazz hands and all much to his surprise. And for what started as a smart and sophisticated evening, by the time the food came out I for one was like a sea lion at the zoo; I don’t believe I chewed or even stopped for breath.
How is it when you’ve had a few drinks suddenly your inhibitions make a bid for freedom and you say and do things you’d never dream of in your life. I’m such a quiet home body usually and Luca and I hardly get out anymore, so when we do get a free evening we try to soak it all up and make the most of it knowing that it will be some time before we have a repeat performance. But then I wonder to myself, when we’re drunk and animatedly chatting to people we’ve just met or been introduced to they must think how hilarious and outgoing we are. And if they were to see me the next day in Tesco’s looking like a librarian and buying biscuits they’d no doubt be waiting with baited breath for me to jump over the loo roll aisle or eat through the plastic on a bag of apples, and with my wonderful memory and recognition of people I’d probably just smile like a polite stranger and say “Excuse me” to walk past without bumping my trolley into theirs. What a psycho!
All in all I think I handled my lightweightedness fairly well last night. It may be the fact that I ate a mung bean curry before we went out for an Indian though, only because I’d cooked it during the afternoon and couldn’t resist a little taste, which greedily turned into a whole plate that I demolished within a few minutes. And after a few drinks at the restaurant my appetite increased ten fold and the sheer volume of food must somehow neutralise the copious amounts of alcohol making me appear conscious and interactive when I feel and react like a playdoh doll. And I suspect my lack of a hangover this morning is thanks to the fact that I had a nice mung bean curry for breakfast also. If I could eat curry everyday until the end of time I would be a happy bunny.
I don’t know if it was just down to the fact that I was intoxicated or completely blinkered to the world around me, but I didn’t feel awkward or ‘looked up and down’ by others at all. Even standing in the queue for the toilets at the club, I realised half of the girls around me were several years younger and ten inches shorter and I felt more like a protective mother to them than a bird flying into a lions enclosure for once. Normally I would be all too self-conscious and aware of people looking over and noticeably talking about something they didn’t like about me or found funny with how I’d dressed. And I suspect even if they weren’t commenting about me I’d probably still think that they were. I’m too used to being put down and laughed at my whole life to ever believe that people can just be nice to me, and I absolutely love it when I suddenly feel at ease around others that I don’t know incredibly well. I guess I’ve become a bit of a social recluse these last few years and I really don’t mean to be, I’d give anything to stop worrying about what other people think of me, but I guess until I experience these moments and recognise the kind people around me I’ll naturally feel out of place without it.
I’m just too conditioned to feel scrutiny and criticism from others, as what started as a young bullied child became all the more powerful and consuming when I modelled in my teens at a time when you possibly hate your body more that ever. I’ve never felt perfect and I doubt that I ever will. Even on a day when I feel good about myself at the back of my mind I can still imagine people pointing out my flaws and saying “Well she may have lost some weight but she’ll always have that nose!” and it could be completely in my head for all that I care, but I’ve been told in the past after girls have been nice to my face that they had bitched about me ten minutes before to anyone and everyone that would listen. And so I’ve always thought why associate yourself with people who you know are false and disloyal? With ‘friends’ like that you’d never need an enemy! So I guess I’ve walked through life taking every encounter with a pinch of salt, and distrusting girls’ intentions because I’ve seen both sides of their faces and watched them do the same to others. But is it my place to say whom, what and when? Definitely not, if that’s how people choose to behave then it’s only themselves they have to answer to. And I’m just so thankful that last night for once I never felt that at all and it was a breath of fresh air. Wow, I must have been drunk! Ha!
So back on track again after that strange little rant, we had a fantastic night and I’m avoiding looking into my purse at the stack of bank receipts as I’m sure if I avoid eye contact with my bank balance then the pending bank transactions from last night will magically cancel and leave me in credit and possibly with a surprise bonus deposit for good measure. Last time we were out for a little drink the other week I somehow managed to spend £100.00 despite the fact I’d be unconscious after three drinks, so thinking of last night it’s open odds really at the minute!
And when we took a jolly stroll through the front door just before 3am this morning I was elated to still have my shoes, phone and modesty intact. But the elation was soon drowned out by Luca’s drunken face down wild-bear-snoring in the bed next to me as I fed and cuddled a snotty and grizzly little Gabriele to sleep. I think I’ve had a few hours sleep? I don’t feel drunk or hungover which really should be impossible, but I’m not complaining. And as our beautiful family all lay in one bed cuddled up this morning I popped downstairs to make breakfast of cheese toasties and a nice curry for myself!
Deciding it would be better to weigh myself now before I attempt to rehydrate with a tank of water, I stepped on the scales – without having been to the toilet from yesterdays munchathon- and was greeted with a three pound gain. I was expecting a lot worse for the amount of junk I’ve been putting away this week, but I shall take the wrap on the back of my knuckles with a cheeky grin on my face, because even though I’ve gained almost half of a newborn baby in weight this week, I’ve had more fun than I have in years and every morsel was well deserved and worth it!
My Weight Loss 21 Weeks After Giving Birth
So looking at my body I’m starting to like my legs again, even though they still shake and bounce when I walk up the stairs or run for the telephone when I’m putting away the washing, I’m adopting the softly softly approach of one step at a time; I’m upping my leg weights at the gym and even if it does absolutely nothing for my physique it’s working wonders for my mind so I don’t mind living in denial at all. And no doubt in a couple of hours I will be in my gym gear grinning once more working out despite my lack of sleep and high alcohol content in my blood, but I’m hooked and love it!
And for anyone I saw or spoke to last night, thank you for being so wonderful. Please ignore/forget everything embarrassing that I may have said or done, and if you see me out in public don’t be offended if I have absolutely no recollection! Ahh, how wonderful it is to be a Mummy! x x x x
