Accessorise like a yummy mummy!

Whether you’re pregnant, breast feeding or just a little conscious of your post-partum tummy, there’s no reason you can’t be the belle of any Christmas ball you’re going to!

Just grab yourself a simple, yet chic frock, and then accessorise it like a pro with our top tips.

The little black dress is a classic wardrobe must have, and this one: http://www.mummylooksfab.co.uk/Nursing-and-Maternity-Wrap-Dress will support you all through pregnancy and beyond, is super flattering, and simple to dress up whatever look you fancy.

For a rock chick look, team with black tights or leggings, your favourite black boots, a stack of metallic bangles and some big hoop earrings.  Scoop your hair up into a high ponytail; paint your nails a foxy bright red & you’re ready to rock!

For a more laid back look, team with leggings & a pair of ballet pumps, add a chunky beaded necklace, swipe on some lip gloss and enjoy looking effortlessly gorgeous!

If you fancy a touch of Hollywood glamour, wear your frock with nude tights and the highest heels you can stand. (If you can’t bear the thought of even a small heel, treat yourself to a sparkly pair of pumps – there are loads of great ones on the high street right now.)  Accessorise with plenty of bling – the shops are generally full of pretty diamante treats this time of year – they sparkle like the real thing for a fraction of the cost! A statement necklace will break up the neckline, and a few glittering bangles will look great too.  Either set your hair in rollers for a real starlet look, or pile it up into an elegant chignon/messy bun if you’re short on time.  Grab some red lippie for a Marilyn-esque pout and get ready to sparkle!

Whatever you’re up to this festive season – have fun!

Christmas Carol Service……

We had our school Christmas Carol Service this week.

Its always held in a church around the corner from school and starts at the mind-bogglingly inconvenient time of 9.30am. I say this for PURELY selfish reasons because I understand completely that it can’t be in the evenings as the little ones would fall asleep and it can’t be any earlier as the vicar would, but 9.30am is slap bang in the middle of my daughters morning nursery session, so we go to the carol service, I drop her back at school and then about thirty seconds later I go and pick her up having blown another morning of work.

I appreciate it is voluntary and no-one is forcing me to attend. I could stay at home and power through my To Do list safe in the knowledge that she and her slightly bigger brother are singing up a storm without my teary eyes looking on. But I go, every year, and I cry a little bit at the loveliness of it all, get cold feet in the old church, feel guilty for not spending more time there and then sing “O Come All Ye Faithful” at the top of my voice and feel much better about life in general.

This year, my daughter decided she didn’t need to learn the words to the songs. After the thirtieth session of singing Little Donkey in the car, by myself, while she glowered out of the window and mumbled about my singing scaring the little donkey, I figured it would be better for all of us if I let it go. Who needs to know the words to the carols anyway? Its once a year and the made-up versions are far funnier. The hooting that goes on around the dinner table after one verse of “We three kings in Leicester Square”…that’s comedy gold for a 3 year old. Especially after the 6 year old has explained that they aren’t actually the words at all! Imagine!

However, my plan of nonchalance backfired horribly when she decided not to remain silent and po-faced as per our practices, but to ad-lib her way out of trouble….The three year old logic kicked in and she decided, “We’re in church….the Baby Jesus gets a lot of mentions….I figure that’s safe ground….I know, I’ll shout “Jesus!” in  time with the music and stamp my feet to draw extra attention to myself!! This plan cannot fail!”

I was too far away and to be honest, too lost in the carol to realise at first that the ungodly shouting was coming from my daughter and she appeared to be cursing someone in loud and ringing tones. I was reminded of every DIY session “Jesus! James! That’s my finger!”, every time the dog has accidentally bitten me “Jesus! Flapjack! That’s my bum!” and every time one of the children has thrown water on the laptop for no apparent reason “JESUS! You two!! That’s it – I’m off to the Travelodge!!”

I should be grateful that she didn’t elaborate and stuck to the simple but arresting lyric of “Jesus!”, and when the vicar finally intervened (I was too far away to politely rugby tackle her to the ground and cover her head with something woolly), she seemed very pleased with herself  that her own lyrics had garnered such attention from all the important people in the room – the vicar, the headmaster and the baby Jesus himself.

Next year we are going to start practising the words in August, and if it looks at all dodgy on the lyrics front, I will be working at  home that morning and singing “While Shepherds Washed Their Socks By Night” to my computer….Just to be safe, Seren will be tied up in the under-stairs cupboard until it is all over.