When I look at Daisy, I see a lot of my younger self in her - a wee, skinny girl with thin, permanently messy hair and glasses always falling down her nose.
Like me as a child, she doesn't care much about how she looks - she'd rather be climbing trees and rockpooling than worrying about getting her shoes dirty. She's not quite a tomboy, but certainly not a princess type, either!
She's adorable, but shy and awkward about her appearance, she hates being called pretty, and has already had the odd comment from classmates, girls as young as 7, who are already into clothes and shoes and hair, about how her outfit doesn't match or her hair isn't sitting right. She's not bothered - she, like me, is growing up not noticing, or caring what other people look like. It's just not that important, is it?
It does make me wonder...is caring about your appearance something that you're born with, something that either comes naturally or doesn't?
I've never been one to take time to worry much about my appearance. As a kid, I was always the scruffy one, genuinely not giving a damn what I looked like. A a young teenager, I cared much more, but didn't have a clue what to do about it. I wasn't naturally into clothes or make up, and didn't know where to start putting an outfit or hairstyle together. It bothered me massively that it seemed as if all the other girls were way prettier than me, but I just didn't know where to start. Where was I when they taught these girls how to be so attractive, anyway?
Nowadays, I'm much the same. My lifestyle doesn't really allow for much prettiness - my days consist of housework, cooking, dog walking and going out and about with the kids, so my mum uniform is generally a practical combo of leggings, tshirts and no make up.
So why is is that I reserve the right to feel so intimidated by other women? Everywhere I go, everyone is so much more "put together" than me - their clothes match, they have make up on, their hair is done, they are in control of themselves. Why am I not like that?
Why am I the frumpy one in the baggy, stained clothes, with a make up free, wrinkly face and flat, sad looking hair?
I'll tell you who is to blame for this. Me.
It's not the kids' fault. If I wanted to, I could take 5 minutes in the morning to slap on a bit of mascara and lipstick. It wouldn't inhibit my ability to do housework, would it?
If I wanted to, I could put on a dress and sandals occasionally, it's hardly like I'm constantly splashing bleach all over myself while cleaning, it wouldn't be so much harder to do the hoovering in a skirt, would it?
If I wanted to, I could choose that instead of wasting 5-10 minutes during a quiet moment on Facebook, Viral Nova or Buzz Feed (do I REALLY need to know what colour represents my personality or what city I should live in?), I could invest those few minutes in applying a nice hand cream, painting my nails occasionally or doing something else that is for ME, that makes me feel nice, and worthy of a few minutes' indulgence.
We need to remember that we might be parents, that our lives might be devoted to these little angels, but that we are also worthy of feeling good about ourselves.
I'm a naturally very low maintenance kind of girl, but when I start to feel crappy about going into the playground because I feel ugly, it's time to take action and remind myself that I deserve to look and feel good too, and only I can do that.
Time to shake off these frumpy leggings and get my groove back, starting with a quick haircut and colour while Amelie is asleep.
Have you been on the slippery slope to Frumpsville lately? Do you ever get that feeling?
Come and join me in 5 minutes of indulgent me-time. We might not have nights out or offices to get ready for, but we can still take a minute to remind ourselves that we're still worth looking good for.
I'm off to hunt out my reddest lippy - I've got a hot date with the ironing....
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