Before I became a mum, I convinced myself that I WOULD be the Miranda Kerr of mothers. I would be well dressed and bouncy and amazing at all times. I would not leave the house in my PJ’s or covered in baby vomit and without a scrap of make up. My hair would always be washed, and I would lose, quite by accident, those 40-odd pounds I’d piled on. Because, well, if Miranda can do it can’t we all? Oh and I would also live a beautiful, organized house where healthy meals would be on the table each night for me and my adoring husband…
THEN, oh boy, I became a mum, and I kind of never leave the house, on the occasion I do venture out to get baby supplies or schlep to the local play area. I am indeed 99.9% of the time in my PJ’s- without a scrap of make up, with baby vomit in my hair. I eat mainly bags of butter chocolate cookies and take out because I have forgotten what real food that isn’t pureed actually looks like, thus I never really lost that extra jiggle b’jiggle.
And on a Sunday morning when my child has been inconsolably screaming for hours straight, and I am sitting in a pile of toys and bagel bits and dirty diapers with the craziest head of hair held together by spit-up and pureed peas, I realize; Miranda Kerr is no longer the beautiful vision of hope that got me through my pregnancy, but a devilish reminder of the fact that I totally failed at being that glowing, well put together mother.
I guess I’ve realized that I’ll just never be that person who jumps for joy each morning before my 5am yoga session pre consuming my thousand dollar smoothie blended with noni and golden nuggets of angel poop (all the while of course, balancing on my head and breastfeeding my son.)
But in those liminal moments, in-between the madness and sheer exhaustion of it all, I somehow find myself happier and more blissfully contented than I could ever have imagined, bursting with a pride I never thought possible. A feeling that totally overshadows being well-coiffed, and model-thin, and erm, Miranda Kerr-ish. Because I guess we’re all our own version of being a fabulous mother even if that version looks totally and completely different to someone else’s.
Photography: All images on left Miranda Kerr; all images on right Zoey Tzfanya