It’s only since having my own kids that I’ve truly realised what my sister and I put my mum through. From relentless squabbles over My Little Pony and tantrums that resembled toy Armageddon to the darkness of the teen years where my parents ended up hanging outside a dodgy club called Ritzy making sure I got home safely. Needless to say the minute Mae was born I said a long overdue sorry. “Mum I am SO sorry for The Stuff. Please tell me it gets easier?” [tumbleweed]
But my overriding feelings of growing up were akin to walking around with an invisible flumpy duvet wrapped around my shoulders. My mum’s Bambi-esque caring eyes were always there, ensuring I was OK. More than OK actually; reassured at every wobbly step and scooped up when the chips were down.
So since Sorry Gate, we’ve been chatting more about how she raised us and what she went through in the early years – ‘the newborn trenches’ as we now refer to them. Back in the 80s my mum used cotton wool and boiled water to wipe my bottom – not particularly handy when dealing with a code red nappy situation in the tinned goods aisle of your local supermarket.
Fast-forward a few years and the next best thing for us is from Huggies. Unlike many wipes, these ones are made with natural fibres* that are soft and gentle on Evie’s soft and peachy derriere. These wipes gently clean and protect for healthy, happy skin.
The key for me is choosing something natural. Unlike some wipes, Huggies Pure Wipes are made with natural* (absorbent) fibres and 99% pure water. It’s as close as you can get to my mum’s cotton wool balls and boiled water. I did a simple test when deciding on what to use on Evie – The Mascara Test. It’s not science based in any way and you should not try this at home but, you’d be surprised how many baby wipes out there sting your own face when removing something simple like mascara. Huggies Pure Wipes were the only ones not to leave me mildly wincing – and that’s because they don’t contain phenoxyethanol, parabens and perfume. In my mind if it stings my leathery chops that have seen me through a few seasons in Ibiza, then it’s going to have some impact on Eve’s tush.
And I can report on one particularly explosive nappy situation, these gentle, caring wipes not only cleaned up but left her cheeks as soft as the day she was born.
My face, however, has aged by about 20 years since the day she was born. But perhaps, one day, she’ll be saying sorry at some point too. Not before I’ve hung outside some dodgy gaffe called Ritzy at 2am, of course.