Mojo? Is that you?


Just in case you missed it, I recently posted about my missing mojo.  I haven’t seen it for a while, I suspect I left it somewhere between Pregnancy Lane, Caesarean Street and Time Poor Mummy Terrace.  If you want to read about my man toe or bastard hair, you may do so here.


I’ve been in ‘find my mojo’ mode for about a week.  I bought 2 packs of hair die – one is not enough for my fat wog hair, and I also bought some wax strips for Leg Plantation Forest.

I actually waxed my legs a few days ago but did a pretty shithouse job of it so I had until tonight categorised it as a ‘work in progress’.  You know how people tell you that you shouldn’t get waxed when you have your period because you are more ‘sensitive’?  Well, they weren’t bloody (pun intended) kidding!  Holy shit balls!  I’ve waxed for many, many years but in all that time have not done it at that special time of the month.  I was not prepared for the world of pain I experienced when I pulled the first wax strip back.  I do not mince my words, it hurt like a mother fucker.  Worst part was I then KNEW how much the subsequent strips were going to hurt and the anticipation of the rip was excruciating.  I had to mentally prepare myself for each one, and because I had little T propped up on the bed watching his dear old mum torture herself, I couldn’t let on I was in agony.  ‘Oh dear me Theo,’ says Mum with a tormented smile on her face, ‘that sure does smart.’

Regardless of the physical suffering I endured during the waxing debacle, I still began to feel like a new woman.  Shit, I could wear a SKIRT, and my man toe had turned into a lady toe!  That night, while T was in the bath I painted my toes Candy Pink.  It was an improvement on the previous state of my feet but I’m not really a candy pink kind of girl, so I took it off.  It didn’t look right.

Today I used the ‘supposed to be painless, but totally painful’ epilady to get rid of the rouge left over hairs that I missed with the wax strips.  Now I have sexy smooth, ready to be felt legs.  I repainted my toenails Porn Star Red – totally me.  Not that I am a porn star or anything, I just prefer the bright stuff.

Sexy Toes


So D took T out this afternoon for a couple of hours so I took the opportunity to chuck in the hair dye that has been sitting on my bathroom bench for a week.  Burgundy apparently.  Turns out, if you don’t mind getting purple (or whatever colour you are using) all over your face, ears, neck, arms and bathroom sink/benchtops/floor, colouring your own hair isn’t that hard after all!  My hair is now not only greyless, but shiny and beautiful.  I even went the extra mile and ran the GHD through it.

Don’t mind the white Ahh Bra. Damn those things are comfy!


So voila!  Mojo, I think I have found you.  I am feeling a bit better about myself anyway.  The only area I have not tended to is the lady garden.  I would rather stick a hot iron up my arse than attempt to wax that myself.  Some things are best left to a professional.  And when I say professional, I really mean a hot lesbian.  Personally I couldn’t care less who waxes my nether regions, as long as they are gentle, but I always tell D she was a hot lesbian.  He likes to pretend.


I feel all smooth and glossy.  I have a feeling someone is going to get lucky tonight.  And it better be me!  (D are you reading this?  Come to bed.)

8 responses »

  1. While your on a roll go by the fifty shades of grey series if you havn’t read them already. That will put a smile on your Mojo :-). BTW you look absolutely beautiful in your photos!

  2. Feeling like I lost my “mojo” as you call it too…Plucked my eyebrows, got rid of the greys in my hair and shaved my legs – “Oh, what’s that noise – 5 month old baby crying” good feeling gone 🙂 at least I had a little bit of me time. Got to love motherhood

    • You hit the nail right on the head! Those moments of restorative calm during nap times are fleeting. But then the smiling little face that greets me I go to get him from his cot makes me forget all about my self pity party – until the next time I look in the mirror…

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