Dear Beyoncé...

Dear Beyoncé

Firstly may I just say that I am huge fan. And I don't want to blow my own trumpet but it has been said that my 'drunk mum' version of 'Single Ladies'. After I've had one too may gins (six). May well rival your very own version. Sure I do it barefoot and OK I may not be able to do all the low down moves but the enthusiasm is there. I adore you. You embody everything I love about being a woman. But comes to Motherhood? And I wish that once. Just once. You didn't "slay" at it (slay is what the kids say these days right?).

I wish in my heart of hearts? You were just a bit crap. In your first photo shoot with your beautiful twins you look better than me on my wedding day. My wedding day. When I was at my VERY best. A few weeks after I gave birth I looked like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards. I still looked roughly seven months pregnant. My clothes were covered in crusty milk, my hair was greasy and I was a wild eyed, insane, screeching, hormonal mess.

SLAYING IT (I think I've used it in the right context maybe?)

I would love just once Beyoncé for you to show a different side to your beautiful version of motherhood. In my imagination sometimes you and Jay Z are in your mansion and he's forgotten to take the bins out. The twins are screaming, Blue Ivy has just bitten you. You are lying face down on your 500 Egyptian thread sheets wailing "JAY I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANY MORE BAB. I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANNNNYYYYMMMMMMOOOOORRRRRRE". Yes in my imagination you have a slight Brummie accent. Show the cracks. Give us a glimpse into what it's really like.

Because if you did that? You don't know just how many mums you would be helping. How many mums would go "thank f*ck for that. If Beyoncé is struggling then it must be f*cking hard". I get that everything in the world of celebrity has to be perfect, polished and beautiful. But for me the hard bits about being a mum. The tough bits where you have no sleep but you still manage to get through the day in one piece. Albeit it looking like a tramp. Are the beautiful bits.

Knackered, no make up, innards hanging out of my stomach but happy

Those are the bits we should be celebrating. The days when we think we aren't going to make it through without having a cry. But we do. And we look at our babies sleeping with such love in our knackered eyes. Our maternity leggings sagging around the ass and think "Yes we smashed it". But I totally get why you wanted this beautfiful amazing shot to represent you and your babies. And we can but dream of achieving the same. I shall still have my weird Jay Z Brummie fantasties. Enjoying the one where he didn't put the tumble dryer on and forget to get bread. Beyoncé I salute you (even though I defo do 'Single Ladies' better).

Love Em x
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