You shall go to the ball Cinderella

Ok so being a full time mum to two is not quite Cinderella’s hard slog but it still gets slightly repetitive at times. So when a lovely friend suggested going to a charity ball the other weekend I figured why not!

So it was like getting ready for the school formal again, we got together and did a big dress trying on (terrible english I know) session. However, this is slightly tricker than the last time I remember, what with small children hanging on your hip and the obvious body changes that happen post having children.

Having agreed on dresses we then booked in for hair to be done on the day, spray tans or make up was pushing it a bit far with feeding and nap schedules. My wonderful friend Amy was over from Wellington so having informed her of our adventures she was very tolerant of being dragged along. Come Saturday we had our hair done and then had to make a quick dash into Farmers of all places. Now in Blenheim there isn’t much in the way of shopping or department stores, ha well Farmers is it. Given that we went into town at 4pm I am surprised that even they were open! Anyway the very glamorous and perfectly made up girl behind the counter asked politely what our plans were for the evening…. I replied

“well actually we are going to a ball, we don’t always look like this”.

A blank look of disbelief crossed her face, I think going through her head was what on earth is this woman talking about. We had no make up on, farm clothes, Annabella in tow and just some well done hair. She then smiled sweetly and gave us a slightly sympathetic yet encouraging look as we left the counter.

The balance of preparing dinner, the children for bed and getting ready was fun but we got there and weren’t even too late to pick up the others. However, they were chomping at the bit to get inside and check it out. We pulled up outside, exited the car and I got the text….

‘Annabella is screaming’

So after a very quick chat, Amy and I were back in the car to get home, its a 20 minute drive from the ball venue to our house but I’m sure I did it in a lot less. I wasn’t sure what was more stressful the thought of Annabella beside herself or poor Justin stuck trying to settle her. We walked in the door to a smiling baby but a daddy with sore arms having had to jiggle her for the last 20 minutes. As I sat there in the dark, dressed in a full ball gown feeding, I had to chuckle to myself. In the last 3 months Annabella has hardly stirred after her bedtime at 7, and definitely hasn’t had to have been fed. How is it that children have an innate sense of when you aren’t there? I wonder if this is a common problem of society women? I’m guessing probably not.

Anyway, having settled the small one Amy and I agreed that we had paid a slightly exorbitant amount for our tickets and we would still be going to the ball, so it was back in the car to make our grand entrance. As with most of those things the getting ready and spending time with friends was far more enjoyable that then even itself, but, it was great to get out and glam up.

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