Bec Davidson - 11 Nov 18

Mr Wahlberg,  I salute you. Waking at 2.30 am to start your day against the backdrop of moonlight that seeps through your expansive LA mansion.  I imagine that you briefly bask in the luxury of your Egyptian cotton sheets before downing a shot of wheatgrass, in the same way that the 18 year old me could down a Peach Schnapps.

Not all, but some celebrities are relentlessly exposing us to their #perfectlives on social media.  The current celebrity buzz, is for an inherently militaryesque style morning routine. We enviously peer into the Insta windows of their #extremeroutines. But how much truth really filters through to our unfiltered realities? Take a peek through the Insta window that is my #ExtremeMorningMummyRoutine, something a little more relatable and less #perfectlives

• 3.00am  #ExtremeNonWorkingPelvicFloor – Mr Wahlberg is already up for a workout, I’m berating myself for historically not exercising my pelvic floor muscle.  I trudge half asleep to the toilet and bang into the door #ExtremePain

• 5.40am #ExtremeSelfishness – I’m (unreasonably) cursing my husband as he lifts his weary self out of bed – how selfish of him to disturb me as he commutes to London to earn a living.

• 6.01am  #ExtremeSwearing  – whilst Mark is chanting prayers, I’m chanting a  little mantra of my own (turn off the bloody light) as husband dares to turn on said light to look for his work pass.

• 7.00am #ExtremeHappyHugging  – my 7 year old snuggles into me before our day starts and I breathe in his loveliness.  Poor Mark, he still has 3.5 hours to go before scheduled #family time.

• 8.00am #ExtremeChristmasConsumerism –  glowing from his gruelling workout Mark by now is chugging a green smoothie.  For breakfast, I eat a mince pie, guiltily relishing the taste of early sugar coated christmas consumerism, against the backdrop of a Britain currently courting an #extremegreedculture. Sigh.

• 8.36am #ExtremeSchoolRunShame – I can’t find my trainers, so pull on thigh high grey suede party boots in contrast to my staple outfit of active wear. The 7 year old delightedly tells me I look like puss n boots from Shrek. 

• 9.00am #ExtremeSadHugging  – my heart aches waving my little boy and his gappy smile into class.

• 9.30am #DreamsOfDragonsDen – internally I debate which Dragon’s Den judge would bank roll me if I presented them with a prototype for a morning coffee drip, that mainlined intravenously into arm veins. Cue daydreams of dragons fighting over its brilliance.

• 10.00am #ExtremeLust   – I work out for 15 minutes with Joe Wicks, cue other (unpublishable) daydreams…..

• 10.30am. #ExtremeCold –  Mark hits the cryo chamber, I hit the shower, boiler playing up so I’ve my very own ‘in-house’ cryo chamber shower.

• 11.00am #ExtremeKindness – Mark is currently channeling mindfulness and chasing down Zen. So I put down my work, breathe and finally sort out my son’s baby clothes.  I drop them into the local charity shop and help the volunteers organise the items by age. I’m struck by their kindness at volunteering their time.

• 11.50am #GivingBack –  the volunteers don’t advertise their charitable routine on Instagram. Simply, they are giving back. In the last hour of my morning routine, I reflect and vow to slot ‘giving back’ and ‘gratitude’ into my morning routine.

#ExtremeKindness, now there’s an Insta routine I’ll keep liking.

Bec Davidson

Mum to Zachary; Idealist; belief in humanity; Graduate in Psychology; trainee Psychotherapist (specialising in woman's mental health), aspiring freelance writer with a passion in understanding what modern feminism means for mothers, and finally....... a Prosecco opener extraordinaire!

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