5.15pm on a dark and dreary Saturday evening I stood in Merry Hill waiting for Lily and her friend to spend her spare £5.  It was burning a hole in her pocket.  She was raiding Claire’s Accessories sale rail, a girl after my own heart.

I felt so tired.  The day had been long.  I propped myself up on a shop wall, easing a tired back.  In the distance I recognised a school Mom in another shop.  She was with her daughter and her friend.  The Mom wasn’t a friend she had a harsh and spiteful tongue, and sadly a few years ago I had a taste of her rather colourful language.  However, I couldn’t help but notice she was so beautifully dressed, her hair was immaculate her make up on point.  With her clothes matching perfectly, she had a designer bag and dainty matching shoes.  From a distance she looked picture perfect.  I hid myself.  At this particular point in the day, I didn’t feel picture perfect.  The coat I wore I have had for 2 years, jeans over stretched now a little shall we say saggy, hair scraped back and no makeup.

I had woke around 7.45am had a cuppa, got the tea/coffee shop stuff for Football ready, put a wash on, got dressed, had a wash brushed my hair and teeth, then left for football.

I had stood in a wet and muddy field for 3 hours with freezing cold fingers and toes.  Supported and cheered on my boys, ran the football tea and coffee stall and dished out the grub after the game for them.  I got home put a 2nd very muddy wash on, followed by petrol station, pick up a birthday gift, weekly shop, then off to Merry Hill with Lily to spend a bit of girly time together.

My compromise in life so often now, with a big family, is me.  Don’t get me wrong I rarely think about it.  However, on days/moments like that I realise I appear nothing like in my mind how I should.  Even slimmer I would still look unkempt, and a general scruff.

But can you have or do it all ??  I think I do pretty well with my time management, but perhaps this is not the case.  Do I dare say, that those who do go out like something from out of a magazine care a little too much about how they look ???

I get that the less children you have generally the more spare time you have.  I maxed out my spare time with 5, so there is always a job to do, time to spend with them,  or even event to attend about them.

Would I look back at photos and think ‘wow I looked so good’, or will I look back at the photos and see all the generally happy smiley times we have spent together and not even notice how I really looked ?

At this particular time in our lives, we have a 15-year-old in his GCSE year and in his first serious relationship.  I have 3 very nearly teenagers gracing the house with their many hormones, a greedy but rather cute 5-year-old, 2 businesses on the go, a part-time job, 3 pets to keep alive, a house to run, and varying club’s to attend.  So time isn’t on our hands.  I except the way it is.  One day I know things will be very different and I may be the woman looking good in the queue at Asda.  For now though I will shower when I can, buy the cheap hair dye, and generally look a bit of a charity shop mish mash, with black bag panda makeup eyes.  But I can say I gave these 5 kid’s my everything, I worked the job’s I didn’t think I could do.

I allowed the many sleepovers, did 4 wash loads a day, generally ran around after them, keeping my patience and generally keeping my shit together.

What is good is when I do make the effort to go out and don a frock people notice🤣🤣. So, perhaps, it’s good to mix in the tramp look.  I just hope next time I spot ‘Mrs Perfect’ I have the courage to go wave and say “Hello” in whatever state I appear in.

After all you can change how you look, but you can’t make a person have a good heart 💟~

Mrs Perfect