Learner Mum: It’s been a long time since I gave my reflection more than a glance

Picture: iStock 

We took a trip to an outlet mall on the way back from a St Patrick’s Day weekend break in Belfast. I was like a contestant on Supermarket Sweep, grabbing things I thought my daughters would like. When I could carry no more, I found a quiet corner to see if there was anything in my arms that was actually worth buying. 

My husband, bemused by my frantic efforts, had already taken the smaller daughter outside to let her run around. The nearly four-year-old stayed with me, making her feelings about certain dresses (‘oh, no, that’s for a baby’) abundantly clear.

Delighted with my haul we left the store, but only after Mae had given the shop assistant her full name, address and invited her to her birthday party “in less than two months”.

The following day I asked the girls to try their new clothes on to see if they all fit. The little one put one dress on, said wow, and disappeared off to cause trouble. Mae, who is showing a real interest in what she wears, carefully stepped into each outfit, ran to show her daddy and came back for the next one.

She was having a ball. I could hear my husband laughing so when I zipped up the third dress, I followed her into the bedroom. She was not twirling for her daddy, but standing in front of the full-length mirror. She was grinning and doing a little butt-shaking dance. When she realised I was there, she stopped, looked at me through the reflection and said, “Momma, I look FABULOUS!” She did, the dress was adorable, she was glowing, and her dance was very cute. 

Jennifer Stevens

When she legged it off to get the next dress, I stood there looking at myself. It’s been a long time since I gave my reflection more than a 30-second, cursory glance. I usually have a small girl hanging off my leg or am running out the door. It’s been even longer since I stood there and thought I looked anything close to fabulous.

The pandemic, two babies in 20 months and working from home have conspired to make me a cliché in leggings, or if I have a Zoom call, a cliché in pyjama bottoms and a blazer – it’s quite the look. 

We were going out for a family birthday that afternoon and instead of grabbing what was at hand, I chose a dress, put on my makeup and did my hair. As I came downstairs to pack a snack bag, the extra clothes bag, the milk and the ridiculous amount of stuff that needs to go into the boot of the car in order for the four of us to leave the house, Mae met me at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh momma, you look so pretty.” 

I laughed but was thrilled. It hadn’t taken me long, but even I could see the difference. I’d almost forgotten the woman who used to wear heels everywhere and adore fashion. Lots of us probably have, it’s been a heavy, hard time, but I can recommend owning a nearly four-year-old to get you out of your funk and make yourself feel good again. Maybe I’ll turn Mae into an inspirational speaker or life coach. Instead of affirmations, you have to do a little butt-shaking dance and admire yourself.

She’s taught me a lot recently, she suddenly has a great interest in Brontosaurus, but this lesson in fabulosity might just stick.