I need to de-ming. Look at this 'stunna' that Mr Meep married 6 years ago.
And look at the horror I have become.
Back in the day, I ate the healthiest ever diet, with home-made supersmoothies, tons of veg and gallons of water. I walked 3 miles and swam half an hour every day, walked the dog for miles, plus managed to fit in about three aerobics classes a week too. Blimey. I was toned, I was fit, I was glowing with health and vitality. I was like a poster girl for Howies (only not very pretty and about 10 years too old).
Today, I eat too much dark chocolate and too much cake. I amble about in parks a lot, but at The Snail's pace. I walk the dog in the half hour of precious time I can squeeze into Mr Meep's lunch hour. Swimming is a distant memory. I am flabby, I am unfit, I am grey with tiredness and lethargy. Looks wise, I am the very definition of the anti-mumpet.
And so, a plan of action is in order. And, of course, a nice list.
Same old, same old - trying to grow out highlights for eco/frugal reasons (and I hate going to the hairdressers so much), but at that horrid stage of half bleurgh, half blonde stage that normally gets me running to the salon.
Dr Meep prescribes: A positive attitude. Must get through this with vision of glossy red bob that I could have by my birthday in August. Meanwhile, be glad it's hat season.
I last slept for a whole night in May 2009 (eek!) and I look tired and old. My skin is kind of grey, very dry and I have enormous eye bags and even the start of some crow's feet. Blee.
Dr Meep prescribes: Bed by 11pm without fail. Weekly 'beauty night' in the bath. Invest in some kind of 'heavy-duty but not full of evil chemicals' eye cream (is there such a thing?).
I have eaten way too much rubbish since I had Moll, what with breastfeeding being the best calorie burner ever. But now she's starting to eat some solids and she's cutting back on the milk, I need to cut back on the cakes. Our diet is generally great, but we do like our baked goods and the chocolate tin sees a lot of action when the little croutons are in bed.
Dr Meep prescribes: 90% vegan diet, lots more fruit, lots less cakes (sob).
OK, I'll admit I'm not overweight. But I am incredibly wobbly. When Gwen and I made jelly butterflies yesterday and sang 'jelly on a plate', I could feel every part of me wobbling along with that raspberry-flavoured pud. My stomach didn't really take a beating after baby number one, but after two, it resembles a lump of uncooked bread dough. Euw. Clearly, I am time-challenged these days, but I need to get moving, moving, moving.
Dr Meep prescribes: Daily power walks, weekly swimming, sit-ups at home and a return to my love-hate relationship with running once the light nights return.
Usual, no clue about fashion plus no cash plus loathe shopping plus want to be an eco warrior. Same old looking a right old mess, but with added baby drool all over me.
Dr Meep prescribes: Hmm, not sure. Can someone nominate me to go on a TV makeover show please?
Right, that's sorted then. Off to get some sleep, swim 60 lengths, scrub my face with ground mung beans and eat an alfalfa on spelt sandwich.
Saturday, January 16
Already, I see, you are suffering from second child syndrome. Your sister had a monthly update for the whole of her first year. This is only your second.
In the last few weeks, you've gone from a quiet little person to one who is very fond of a good shout and a babble. You have two teeth, and I'm pretty sure the next two are about to pop through. You like raspberries on your thighs, being thrown in the air, grinning at yourself in mirrors, crumpling (and eating) paper, rustling plastic, exploring kitchen utensils and splashing in the bath. Although you've been lying under the mobile on your changing mat several times a day for the past six and a bit months, it stills drives you wild with excitement - especially now you can grab all the animals, yank them towards your mouth and give them a good old chew.
You don't like sleeves, lying on your back, your bouncy chair and realising I'm not in the room. You're totally happy and chilled as long as you're attached to me, but haven't quite worked out the rest of the world yet (but then neither have I, and I'm 33 years older than you). If a stranger grins at you, you give them a hesistant smile, then bury your head into my chest in a comedy shy stylee.
You still go everywhere in the sling and are happiest when you're cwtched up to me. Sometimes, I'll be going about my business and I'll look down to find you gazing up at me grinning your gummy little head off. And when I make eye contact, you beam even more and make the cutest cooing noises ever. You really know how to make a mama feel wanted.
You also think your big sister is just fantastic too. You let out a great big belly laugh when she does a big shouty 'Raaaaaaaaaaaah!' right up close to your face.
We've just started baby-led weaning. Well, I was is no rush, but when you swiped my toast off my plate over Christmas and stuck your cute little hand in my leek and split pea soup, I think maybe you were trying to tell me something. So we got the highchair down and away we go. So far, you're a huge fan of oranges and start shouting at me if I don't peel them fast enough after you've spotted one. Toast's always a winner too and today you devoured a load of roasted veg and a pile of pesto mash. (And, OK, I'll admit you have had a couple of chips too, which you naturally loved.)
I hope your first few months in the world have been good ones, my sweet little babe-in-arms. Here's to the next six months of extreme cuteness (with added crawling and first words and other exciting things to come) - I can't wait.
Wednesday, January 13
The Snail is so rock and roll. She stomps into the kitchen in her stripy tights and clumpy red boots (a bit like me circa 1993), demanding songs on the Ipod and ordering me/ Mr Meep/ Catty/ the dog to dance with her.
I've always refused to go down the route of children's CDs, with very real fears of being trapped in a traffic jam on the M1 with the Postman Pat theme tune on loop for five hours.
The result is a little girl with a playlist that John Peel would have been proud of.
Here's her current top 10:
Feist - 1,2,3,4
Lemonheads - Alison's Starting to Happen
Jeffrey Lewis - Roll Bus Roll
Elvis - Guitar Man
Madness - Our House
Editors - Munich
Ting Tings - Shut Up and Let Me Know
Hot Chip - Ready for the Floor
Antsy Pants - Vampire (from the Juno soundtrack)
The Kinks - You Really Got Me
She's not a fan of rap "I don't like the man talking" or guitar bands
"This song is not really nice". There was a brief obsessions with Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas over the festive season, but we'll gloss over that one. And she does have a bit of a penchant for Ultimate Kylie.
But all in all, not bad for 2-and-a-half.