Posted by / Category Uncategorized /

It is this time of the year. Some mums have it all planned out. Well, I haven’t. This means that I am running around like a headless chicken. As an example, my little one insisted on getting a bikini. What can I say? She must be British. When I was her age (she is 9), I was never, ever wearing the top half of a bikini. To be frank, on French beaches, nobody was wearing a bra. Not even adult women. But she absolutely wanted one. I am ashamed to say that I gave in. I feel slightly cheated because she has absolutely nothing to cover, but hey, I have to go with the flow.


And then, there is the bikini wax. Seriously, I don’t remember that it hurt so much when I was younger. Complete and utter nightmare. Am I the only one to be convinced that you have more hair when you grow older? And not necessarily in the right places. How unfair! To make matters even worse, as I am French, I must appear to be beautiful effortlessly. The pressure is on me. It just never stops. I wonder what would happen if I were to stop trying. No hair cuts, no waxes, nothing. Would looking like a gorilla really be a turn-off? Seriously, how bad can it be? Any advice?

My teenage daughter needs something new every other day. I have lost track of what she has already bought. I just know that it will probably cost me a fortune. But I am not complaining, she has good tastes and, occasionally, let’s just say that I subrepticely ‘borrow’ her stuff. There has got to be something in it for me, right? I keep telling her that she can wear my clothes too but she doesn’t seem that interested, I have to say. Such is life. 

Everybody is looking forward to the holidays except that it is down to me to organise everything. When do I completely relax? Never. I just have what I have carefully planned. Nothing more, nothing less. Some things never change.

But this year, all is not doom and gloom. For the first time in years (ahem, some might even call it a decade), I have my bikini body back. I am back to where I was before kids (with a bit more hair and some grays too, if you must know). It was all about cutting down sugar, and exercising instead of stuffing my face when I am stressed (and as a business owner I am always stressed!). I was convinced that it wasn’t possible to achieve it, but clearly I was wrong. It isn’t that I was huge before, but I am a lot fitter now. And it feels good. Really good.

As everybody knows that French woman don’t get fat, I will of course pretend that it was easy and clearly no big deal. But here is the truth: I can’t wait to flaunt my body on the beach. Watch this space.
Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London