Mum’s Group

It was such a beautiful sunny day today.

I walked to my mother’s group with Callum in a carrier.

My heart was a little heavy though. I haven’t been enjoying my group.

Basically if you’re a new mum, the community automatically signs you up to your local community child health clinic. They hold classes about how to look after your baby and offer a whole range of support. You wear a name tag for you and your baby. You chat to other mums. You drink tea. It sounds great in theory.

But there’s something about my class. Well, the people, not the class itself. I feel out of place. I feel young, too naive, too happy and too self confident? It sounds weird. The group feels like a typical support group you’d see in the movies. You know, a bunch of tired women in a musty, old room, bitching about their husbands, their family, their life, and how dreadful and terrible everything is.

I feel like I didn’t belong. I actually feel bad that I don’t have any stories of hardship and stress to contribute to the group. It is as if everyone wanted to wallow in their problems to reassure each other that the world is a terrible place. It bubbles with negative vibes.

Yeah I know. I shouldn’t be hard on them. People go through depression and hard times in life, especially after giving birth. I tried adding a little sparkle into the group, but all got was dark, blank looks in return.

I felt so guilty for being happy.

I think the negative company is not good for my soul. And drawing strength and creating strongholds from other people’s contempt will darken my heart. So I’m probably going to find a new mum’s group.

Morning Perve

So I was feeding Callum this morning. 9am. Turned on the tv.
And there was this super cute asian guy on tv!
It’s been a while since I’ve seen a cute asian boy on tv.

Only problem was. He was holding a storybook.
And singing Incy-Wincy Spider with a puppet.

Haircut

Someone told me I shouldn’t colour my hair while pregnant. I didn’t really know whether it was true or not, but I wasn’t going to take the chance.

So after 10 months of waiting, I’ve FINALLY had a haircut!

I decided to splurge and go for the whole shampoo, cut, blow dry, and colour. The whole thing took about 2.5 hours and $80. I asked for a “CHOCOLATE” colour. But it came out orangey brown. You know, that rusty colour when you bleach Asian hair. Ick. I was so NOT impressed.

The cut was fine. Quite nice actually. But I looked like an asian gangster chick.

I wrinkled my nose and told her, “It’s not exactly the colour I had in mind.” She tried to make some excuse about it being a “light chocolate”. Then she said I could come in another day to put another colour through it for 50% off.

Er, and have you do another crap job? I thought. I ran into pharmacy and bought some do-it-yourself hair colour. Ugh. I hope I can cover it up.

I know I’ve said this before… but I really need to find myself a nice gay, male hairdresser who will squeal with delight when he sees me and who will love my hair more than I do.