When my daughter was born I had a pink spotty dressing gown.
Many, many nights did I spend awake, nursing a crying, sick, fractious baby. Many many days too. Sitting alone in my lounge chair, baby at my breast. Watching the dishes and laundry pile up…watching my old self and way of life slip away.
Time passed and eventually my pink spotty dressing gown was my uniform of choice to bring another little soul into the world, my son.
Then a time came when I realised my pink spotty dressing gown lost its importance. It could be seen in the background of many family Birthday and Christmas photos…Santa’s helper, the cook, the cleaner.
After a while my pink spotty dressing gown began to feel like it was made of lead, heavy and so so exhausting to wear. I began to resent the smiling laughing people in the photos, enjoying their special day, with only a glimpse of my pink spotty dressing gown to be seen tidying wrapping paper in the background.
This year, my cycle’s day 26, my pink spotty dressing gown feels like a snakeskin, ripe to be shed. I have decided this will be the last year my pink spotty dressing gown will make an appearance the background of the family photos.
She’s to become part of her own special ceremony, honouring her place in the role of the way I have Mothered until now. I’m not quite sure who will take her place…that’s still a mystery to me.
But I wanted to share her with you and honour her for the role she has played. Pink spotty dressing gown’s last Christmas appearance, 2016 xxx
Merry Christmas Beautiful Woman, may your Christmas Day feel full of love and authenticity xxx