I can create quite a sizable afro montage on the top right hand corner of the shower screen these days. My hair, it seems, wants out.

It wasn’t always like this.

During my pregnancy last year my hair was shiny, thick and swishy. I gave Rachel Hunter a run for her money (showing my age here folks, apologise if you are too young to remember Rod Stewart’s ex wife and her 90s Pantene commercials). My skin glowed without the need for primer. My expanding baby bump rounded and smoothed out the jiggly parts of my tum.

I loved being pregnant. I was lucky enough to escape the morning sickness, the ballooning ankles and the crazy cravings.

But now…oh dear. Hair carpets the bathroom tiles and what my husband and I have affectionately named the hair rat sits on the corner of the shower screen after every wash*. Glowing decollatage is now more likely to come from bub’s dribble giving me a nice ‘sheen’.

Appointments at the waxing and hair salons are squeezed in between feeds and when someone is home to take bub out of your clutches for an hour or three.

(Thank goodness) I’m not Kim Kardashian or Kate Middleton, so don’t have the fear of getting papped once I venture out of the house. But feeling ok about leaving the confines of your home is important – Millie and I enjoy our daily walks, I really believe it’s good for both of us.

I’ve asked fellow new mothers the little tricks they use to help the time-poor, overtired, emotional mummas out there look and feel more human. Some said a fail-safe messy bun in their hair disguised an overdue cut and colour; another had her eyelashes tinted so even without make-up she wouldn’t look like a zombie; many (including me) wear trendy harem/slouch/PJ-style pants instead of trackies – same comfort factor, but much more stylish – and a another friend said dry shampoo was so essential that cans of it should be given to every mum-to-be at their baby shower.

Anyway, I’m sure our bodies will settle down, our hair will return and primping and preening will get easier as the bubs get older and settle into routines.

When all is said and done, I don’t know what I’m worried about. With a cute new bubba peering from the pram, who’s looking at me anyway?

*Hair rats are disgusting, but sticking the stray hair up there until I get out sure beats pulling it all out of the plug hole down the track.

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