Being authentically wholesome and very uncool

I am in love with the word 'whole' at the moment, particularly as a prefix. Having read a lot of Brene Brown recently I'm all over the word 'wholehearted' and the general concept of wholeheartedness.

I'm also big on wholesomeness. I thought today, watching Cherry and Violet stare transfixed at an old-fashioned petrol lawn mower (the kind that you have to start by yanking repeatedly at a long cord. I don't even know what the word for that is. I probably used to. I reckon I've started a fair share of mowers that way) that if I were to sum up the childhood I want to give them in one word, it would be 'wholesome'.

It being September my thoughts are getting pretty wholesome anyway, full of lovely things like knitwear and apples and crackly leaves and morning frosts and rosy cheeks and bonfires and toffee apples and hearty stews and apple crumbles. Autumn lends itself so beautifully to wholesome but I like to apply wholesome year-round, as much and as often as possible.

I'm outdoorsy, enthusiastic, physically expressive, excitable. I'm really, really uncool.

This is how I want to be, and this is I suppose how I want my daughters to be too, although I have to caveat that with the disclaimer that I want my daughters to be whoever they are going to be. Somewhere within Cherry or Violet may lurk the angular limbs, nonchalance and aesthetic mastery of a hipster but you know what? I doubt it. With Noel and I as parents their chances of inheriting any street cred are less than zero.

I suppose it could be learned. If it bothered them that much.

I hope it doesn't. I love being uncool. I haven't always loved it (you'll notice I cannot deny that I have always been uncool). Not being a cool kid at school is pretty tough sometimes, even if you are very wholesome. But at 34 I love having the freedom and confidence to embrace my wholesomeness wholeheartedly, to practice cartwheels and handstands at the playground with Cherry and Violet despite the sniggering teenagers, to still derive such deep joy from being ruddy-cheeked and breathless in the chilly air then coming in and getting into a hot bath.

Today I saw an article about a spoof Instagram account poking fun at the kind of wholesome, authentic, wholehearted Instagram feeds that seem so very divisive. Some of us, and I fully include myself in this category, absolutely love the arty shots, styling, whimsical captions, liberal use of inspirational quotes (yep I'm a sucker for them) and hefty dose of positive thinking. I don't just love it, I aspire to it. I want MY IG feed to be all wholesome and pretty and apple-cheeked and authentic and heartfelt and genuine. I find it a really, really lovely way to live.

It's not that I want to stick my head in the sand and ignore THE WORLD or pretend that my life and everything in it is perfect, it's more that I have no interest in cynicism and criticism for criticism's sake. The sarcastic ranty blogposts, the hilariously knowing opinion columns, the look-how-hard-I'm-not-trying-to-try-too-hard spoofs and swipes. Having had my time of finding all of the above really 'me', I know for a fact the only reason I was drawn to any of it was to cover and conceal my own vulnerabilities. It's cool not to care - not to care so much that you write great big long rants about how much YOU DON'T CARE.

I care and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I care about being a kind person, about thinking positively, about choosing my language carefully because I really feel that language plays such a huge part of how we think and feel, and often we don't even realise it. I care about the kind of world I am borrowing from my children and grandchildren. I care about my own boundaries, and the impact I make and the effect I have on the people around me.

I care about having the strength to be vulnerable, enthusiastic, and very uncool. I care about the kind of role model I am for my daughters but most of all, I care about how I feel about the life I live, right now. Having tried the odd other model on for size and always found it ill-fitting, constricting, scratchy or just downright wrong, I can wholeheartedly say that I can think of no better life to live than a wholesome one.

A birthday party

Noel and I absolutely love throwing birthday parties for Cherry and Violet. Helping create a magical day for them is one of the nicest things about having children and we're both big believers in making it all about the experience rather than presents.

At this age they are both still really happy with homemade parties, and have yet to start demanding Frozen parties or soft-play parties or similar. I'm sure as they get older the challenge will be making these themed events charming, but for now as long as there's balloons, cake, family and friends everybody is happy.

After a bit of thought Noel came up with the idea of holding Violet's party in the little wooded glade opposite our house. It's already a beautiful space but with a bit of bunting, some balloons and a tiny bouncy castle it became really enchanting.

(The only thing I find about hosting birthday parties is I am always so busy tearing around I have no time to take photos during the event itself, so most of these pictures are 'before' or 'after' shots)

We like to involve Cherry and Violet as much as possible in making decisions about the party, what food they would like, what kind of cake and so on. Violet chose an angel cake from my Annie Bell cake book to decorate with Smarties, sweeties and sprinkles.

The decoration of the cake has become a tradition for birthday parties and Cherry and Violet really, really believe that more is more.

We kept the food quite simple, cheese and cucumber sandwiches, jam sandwiches, fruit salad, breadsticks and hummus, party rings (Cherry's suggestion), juice and, as requested by Violet, sweeties. We put out grown-up sandwiches, a few drinks and nibbles for the adults.

Violet chose the pink tablecloth, party plates, cups and cutlery, napkins, some blue paper party bags and a few little fun fillers all from good old Asda. I chose her dress as she absolutely loves kites. It's from Wild Things Dresses and I love it SO much I could cry. She was so excited she ran around yelling 'my kite dress! my kite dress!' once she had put it on. I just wish I had a better photo of Violet in it but it was all snatched, rushed shots on the iPhone yesterday.

Then all we needed was good friends and family. And a giant balloon in the shape of a number two.

I love everything about birthday parties. The excitement and the buildup, the frenzied fun, the glow afterwards. I love having Cherry and Violet involved in everything, and there was something deeply touching about their wild excitement on Friday when it was clear Violet was excited because Cherry was excited, and she knew she was having a 'birthday party' but she wasn't quite sure what a birthday party was.

Cherry was a solicitous older sister, accosting guests and demanding 'Have you brought a present for Violet?!' I am not sure how selfless her motivation was, truth be told. But she understood that it was Violet's party and Violet's day and that the presents and cards were for Violet, not for her. Although obviously she got to play with everything so she did pretty well out of her sister's second birthday.

After the party was officially 'over' (although several guests stayed for most of the afternoon) Violet finally got a ride on a home-made go-kart that's been left in the playground over the road for most of the summer. 

What little girl could ask for more? 

I hope they remember these parties, the fun and the adventure. As I put a very tired Cherry to bed she said to me 'I miss the party.' 

I remember exactly how that felt as a child. The excitement and anticipation of an event that's over and gone in a flash. Everything seems to happen on fast-foward. Like your younger child, your 'baby', turning two. 

It goes in the blink of an eye. 

Soggy Gruffalo hunting at Alice Holt Forest

Two things I did not know until I became a mad Instagram convert (I'm cathybussey1 by the way, come say hi!)

1. There's an entire forest just an hour's drive away from my front door and
2. THERE'S A GRUFFALO IN IT!

When I saw a picture of he of the terrible teeth and terrible claws on IG posted by lovely Katie I thought, we are SO GOING THERE.

Unfortunately the day we chose to visit it rained. All. Day. Absolutely poured. Proper wet rain, relentless rain, the kind of rain that could totally ruin a lovely day out with friends.

Only it didn't, because GRUFFALO!

Alice Holt is stunning. It took my breath away, and the enormous, ancient firs kept the rain at bay too. I couldn't stop thinking how lovely it would be to come back one non-soggy day and just spend the whole day exploring.

As it was, we spent a good few hours with our intrepid, drenched-to-the-bone-but-couldn't-care-less children, soaking (literally) up the beauty and the adventure of the place. Despite Cherry's face in some of these pictures (that girl KILLS me) all the children adored it.

I don't know if it was the magic of the forest, strength in numbers or just their wonderful little spirits, but there was not a complaint, whinge or moan out of any of them. They were energised and invigorated by the forest and us mamas were too.

The light was magical and everything looked so green - the joy of summer rain. In fact it was so magical Cherry was a little put out that the Gruffalo himself wasn't a real Gruffalo.

Silly old Cherry. Doesn't she know?

When procrastination strikes….

I'm on something of a roll with the topic, and very concept, of creativity at the moment. 

I've made peace with the odd bout of children's TV (definitely a post for another time) and found some burgeoning confidence thanks to a great deal of personal growth, self-discovery and a fairly major breakthrough (yep, another one for another time).

I have committed to practicing creativity inside and outside of my scope as a mother. I'm here, I'm ready to go.

So today after lunch Cherry and Violet took some down-time with the Octonauts and I came into my study and turned on my computer, checked a few social feeds, responded to some blog comments and…

sat.

What now? I've given myself full permission to create. I have a billion and one things on my list including, but not limited to: a new book pitch; redesigning my blog; sewing new dresses for Cherry and Violet; creating a mood board for my study; reading the range of books and magazines I have lined up for a quiet moment; a feature for the Telegraph; a travelling notebook to read and contribute towards; and a daily journalling practice.

All systems go!

All systems stop. Enter procrastination.

A pointless loop of Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, blogs, Twitter again, oh look what's this link abou- NO STOP. Just STOP.

I took myself downstairs and opened my journal. Ignoring the wreckage of my kitchen post-lunch I wrote down every single thought that was in my head. It was very illuminating. Here's some of what I was wrestling with.

I can't think of a blogpost idea!
I haven't heard back from my editor at the Telegraph regarding my latest pitch.
My book idea feels too big to even attempt to start.
I haven't got much time! I need to use it productively!
The house is a tip.
There are actual flies buzzing around the kitchen.
The garden needs watering. The trough needs replanting.
If that fabric had arrived I could start sewing. But it hasn't. Even though I have plenty of fabric to practice with and am very rusty with the machine, I'm still holding off for that new fabric.
There's so much laundry that needs doing.
The kitchen needs tidying.
The toys need sorting out completely.
I can't connect the printer to the computer because I don't have an ink cartridge. We probably shouldn't buy anything unnecessary until after Noel has been paid.
I don't want to waste my time reading books and magazines! I can do that later.
I don't want to waste time creating a mood or inspiration board! I can do that later. 
I don't have time to 'get into' Pinterest.
I don't have time to redesign my blog.
Should I be paying the children attention instead of letting them watch TV?
Octonauts is nearly over, I need to get back to it! 
What am I going to make for tea? 
Why don't I meal plan?!
Do I need two notebooks - one for journalling and one for creative brainstorming and ideas?
Don't forget the travelling notebook! And don't do that thing you always do and leave it until the last minute because you're looking forward to it and want to give it special time and attention that never materialises so you end up rushing and doing a really half-assed job!

I looked at what I had written and thought, no wonder I can't get going with all that swirling around up there. Especially as I am clearly creeping into frustration and beating myself up, which never leads anywhere good. I'm totally over making myself feel bad to make myself 'better'.

Since I learned to observe and detach a little from my thoughts, rather than blindly accepting them as whole truths and following them to the letter, I have begun to really appreciate how flawed and often jumbled my thought processes are. What does come through very strongly though is a complete fixation on productivity and outcome.

My main fears around creativity and general time spent outside of mothering involve 'wasting' time. I feel like I need a result, an outcome, some proof for every hour - every minute - spent not meeting the needs and demands of my children.

It's quite understandable, because having such short snatched pockets of time in which to do so many things does create pressure. Although truthfully I think I have always thought this way, been overly preoccupied with outcomes. Our social and education system is pretty outcome-obsessed.

Processes rarely get a look in, both inside my head and outside in the wider world. Which is such a shame because 95% of the joy in any project, and in fact life in general, is in my humble opinion in the process, the journey.

But that's not to say that everything in my head was nonsense. It certainly was an epic attack of procrastination but some of it was still relevant. Despite the popular rhetoric that 'the housework can wait' I find that often, actually, it can't. Not just because of the flies in the kitchen (I feel compelled to point out that everybody on our street gets invaded by flies in the summer, it's not just me!) but also because if my house is covered in crap and all the dishes are dirty and we have no clean clothes, I can't really mother to the best of my ability.

I'm too busy falling over Lego and boxes full of bags full of boxes whilst looking for a cup for one thirsty child and a pair of shorts for the other or more likely the same child who has tipped previously-proffered cup of water all over herself mentioning no names here Violet.

I'm no neat freak but I do find the more cluttered my house, the more cluttered my mind, so I try and stay on top of the day-to-day carnage.

Once I'd finished writing I thought, what needs to be done here?

I got up, lit some citronella and washed up. As I did so, I watched my thoughts drift past, like the bastard flies still determinedly buzzing around the remains of our lunches.

One or two seemed worth noting so I jotted them down in my notebook before carrying on.

By the time I'd finished, I had a clean kitchen and three blogposts already written in my head, all ready and waiting for me after I'd spent the rest of the afternoon with Cherry and Violet and put them to bed.

And you're reading one of them right now.

Creativity and motherhood

Since having children I can honestly say I have never felt more creative, and more frustrated.

I found the process of pregnancy and birth stirred up my desire to write fiction in particular, but also my general interest in making, doing and creating.

Creativity as I experience it, as a process of flow from mind to hands to page, is a deeply alone experience. I shut out the entire world and that includes voices. I can get so absorbed in what I am doing that I don't even hear my own husband (or boss, as it used to be, or teacher, before that) calling for my attention.

And of course now I am a mother, I am never alone. I don't just mean physically, although yes I do spend large portions of the day (and night!) with a child on or about my person. I mean emotionally and mentally. The best analogy I ever read on this subject was that leaving your child physically 'isn't like parking a car'. Even when I'm not with them, they're always on my mind.

I think there's a deep biological fear around stepping back into that creative space, whereby my mind is fully focused on something outside of and unrelated to my children. Evolutionarily speaking mothers needed to have their children first and foremost in their minds and hearts, all the time - the survival of the species depended upon it.

But even more than that, it's the everyday reality of life with children that is often the most frustrating of all.

I have so many ideas - SO MANY - and like the fluffy airborne seed heads of dandelions or the witches on broomsticks about whom I read to my children, they float tantalisingly past me. I make a mental note to myself that is almost immediately forgotten in the everyday demands of life with young children. Somebody's bum always needs wiping or hands washing or stomach filling or shoes taking off or other urgent, pressing task.

By the time the need has been fulfilled, it's too late. The witch taps the broomstick and whoosh! They are gone.

I do find the frustration is eased by creating with my children, and our life together involves a great deal of time in nature, making, doing, planting, growing, painting, drawing, sticking, stirring and general making of enormous messes. Both Cherry and Violet love to create - I think all children do. They certainly love to make a mess too and I have always been happy to let them, even if as a result my home does terrify the more houseproud out there.

Of course all of these activities also stimulate the creative flow. I have noticed some really pleasing side-effects of life as a stay-at-home mother that I wouldn't have anticipated. My photography has improved no end, while I'm still very much point-and-shoot I can see a massive difference in composition and use of light and colour (although not in the photos of my children making a mess!). My home has the odd (very odd) little creative touch here and there, as does the garden. I can turn literally any combination of vegetables into a soup - that my children will eat.

And the biggest evolution of all is I no longer view creativity as self-indulgent, unnecessary, a waste of time or pointless. I can see that the process is valuable in itself, the outcome is not so relevant, and that doing what you love does lay the foundations for more and more of the same.

Motherhood has taught me the vital importance of remaining true to myself and what I love to do. It has showed me that I cannot enmesh my identity with that of my children and live vicariously through them, stand at the sidelines and coach, criticise and push. I cannot put the burden of my own frustrated creativity on them. I can't allow them to live my dreams for me. That responsibility is mine alone.

I can see ahead to a time when I have the self-belief to finish a novel and present it to my agent. I can see, no doubt many years down the line, a garden shed turned into a writing studio. But I don't just see my creativity limited to writing. All these things I make and do with the children - or just for myself - count. It's all creating. It's all connected.

It is frustrating still, on a daily basis. I have been reading The Rainbow Way by Lucy Pearce, a truly epic book on this very subject, and it has come as some kind of epiphany to realise that the way I feel about creating and motherhood is entirely normal.

There is ambivalence there. I have chosen motherhood first and foremost, decided that 'serious' creativity and career can wait - I do not regret that choice and I wouldn't change it. (I have considered childcare and at times attempted small amounts with Cherry that were successful to a degree, but by and large it's not for me or us as a family and that is a choice I am happy with).

But I think I can feel a little softer now on the sides of me that are frustrated, champing at the bit, counting down the months and weeks and days until Cherry starts school, Violet starts pre-school and I can take a huge, deep breath and be alone. I can see that this doesn't make me a bad mother. It just makes me human.

I can also see that if I adjust my expectations and perceptions of what I 'need' in order to create, and instead just look at what very small pockets of time are still available to me, I don't have to hang up my creative boots completely. I can still do. Just smaller things, smaller amounts, and expect it to take a lot longer. I can see that it's important I carve out some space at weekends, even just an hour or two, for that complete aloneness I crave.

And in the mean time, we continue to co-create. Because our house just isn't messy enough already.

A big small world

Cherry and I spend a lot of time talking at the moment. She loves it when I share anecdotes, thoughts and feelings from 'when I was a little girl' and it has surprised me how many of them I had all but forgotten, until now.

I have begun to notice that it is in the raising of my children that I can rediscover, and continue to discover, what I love to do.

I can grow.

Before children there was work and socialising, but it's been a long time since I had any real 'hobbies' outside of riding my bike.

When I tell Cherry what I did as a little girl it hits home just how much I used to enjoy, that I gradually let slide, for one reason or another.

How small my world became, when I thought it so large.

Now the reverse is true. My world could seem so very small, but it's bigger than it's ever been.

As I tend the garden at home, grow plants, flowers, herbs, fruit and vegetables and think about how great it all is for my children, it suddenly occurred to me how great it all is for me too.

I love gardening, I always did. I love going for long walks, the kind of walks I go for with Cherry and Violet now where we just dawdle and take our time and look at things and play with things and get absorbed in things and ask questions and think and learn.

Caring for our guinea pigs has rekindled my love of all creatures great and small, as has going out with Cherry and Violet and stopping to pet every dog and talk to his or her owner to find out all about them and spotting woodpeckers, squirrels, foxes and little robin redbreasts in the woods.

At gymnastics classes we all take turns - myself included - to vault over equipment, balance on beams, swing from the bars and tumble on crash mats.

When they paint, I paint too. I loved art as a kid and loved to draw and paint even though I knew I was 'no good' at it. Now our walls are covered in pictures painted by the children - and even some by me.

I've been thinking a lot about my identity lately. Enmeshed as it has become with my children. A small part of me feels a little bit of a letdown for becoming 'that mum' who has picked up that she is starting to live vicariously through her children.

It hit home when I looked at my Instagram feed and realised that I was sharing picture after picture of Cherry and Violet doing things that I love to do and want to do.

The much bigger part of me is glad I have noticed, but tolerant. With two such young children there was never going to be a huge amount of time and space left over for me.

But I have remembered just how much I loved - still love - to ride horses and chuck myself around on crash mats and it has occurred to me that there is no real reason why I can't do all of this too.

This time last year I was feeling reflective as I prepared for Violet to turn one. My overwhelming feeling was that I was just not ready.

I wasn't ready emotionally to leave the bittersweetness of the newborn days behind.

Now I can see what lies ahead. I can see it in glorious technicolour, moment after ordinary moment. I can see that it's not just my children who are blossoming, learning, growing.

I am too.

Easter list

(I'm going to try not to be deterred by the fact that as I write this, rain is hammering steadfastly on the window)

Holidays can actually be quite lonely with very young children. We have only lived in this area since 2013, and making friends in the hectic first year of life with a young toddler and a baby isn't particularly easy.

But I had family around the corner so as long as they were around we had company. Then, as readers of my blog will know, my family moved to Singapore last November. This Easter my parents are out there visiting, which means we will not be able to go to Granny's during the holidays, another failsafe.

I have worked hard since my family left at building new friendships and Cherry going to pre-school has helped enormously. We are booked up for several days with friends, we have neighbours we can call in on or meet at the playground out the front, and we're spending the Easter weekend itself with Noel's family.

And Cherry is truly blossoming as a social being, delighting in the company of her friends (in particular one little boy who, to my joy, seems as inherently silly in his nature as she).

But a part of me does still feel anxious that I will feel lonely over Easter. Holidays are a time for family as much as friends and I feel the absence of my sister-in-law, who was for years my dearest and closest friend, and my niece and nephew as well as of course my brother.

I think the isolation of early motherhood - as I experienced it anyway - is hard to just leave behind especially when some of the few people who were there during the very early years now live on the other side of the world.

The more I talk to mothers I get to know mainly through Cherry's pre-school the more common I find this sense of isolation to be. Lots of us seem to feel we are the only ones who get lonely, imagining our fellow stay-at-home mums to have circles of friends and coffee-dates galore.

In fact all the above thinking relates to a really good idea I had recently about which I will talk more soon, but this is intended to be a post about our plans for Easter!

So far our Easter list includes:

Making gingerbread eggs to decorate an Easter 'tree' - Easter trees seem to be a thing and our local garden centre is full of gorgeous pastel delights. I love this post from one of my absolute favourite blogs Seeds and Stitches and since my children are obsessed with collecting sticks and twigs I thought we could do something similar. I do think however were I to offer up a non-edible dough to make the decorations my children would probably pack their bags and leave, so instead of salt dough we'll use a gingerbread recipe (probably this one replacing the sugar and golden syrup with honey, maple syrup or agave so I can fatuously pretend it's sugar-free).

Making Easter eggs for Noel's family - we will melt down ordinary milk chocolate and use egg moulds to make our own mini eggs and some raw chocolate eggs for me so I don't miss out!

Making Easter bonnets - a classic! Noel stocked up with everything we need from Hobbycraft.

Some fun science experiments - since I discovered Science Sparks I have been dying to attempt some simple experiments with the girls. I love how everything can be done with ordinary store cupboard ingredients, although I am going to need to stock up on bicarbonate of soda and food colouring as Cherry also wants to….

Dye eggs - I can't really see the point of this but I concede it's very pretty and decorative. Cherry is really excited about what she calls 'eggs and colours' which is basically dyeing eggs with food colouring. We've tried it a couple of times but the effect on ordinary brown hen's eggs is pretty poor. Our local greengrocer has started selling lovely big white duck eggs so I think we will invest in a few of them and make Cherry's dreams come true.

Visit our nearest museum, the Honeywood which is running an exhibition of local artists, and the Horniman which we have been to several times and absolutely LOVE, mainly for the gardens I confess and the aquarium if only because Violet calls fish 'ish' and it's super cute.

Our last visit to the Horniman, when Violet was still in my tummy. Look at that little girl!

Make a paper boat mobile. An idea I have seen on several sites, most recently on one of my favourite blogs The Ordinary Lovely. I think paper cranes are probably outside my origami ability at the moment so we'll probably stick to boats. Yet another use for those infernal sticks.

Visit nearby National Trust sites and properties Box Hill, Morden Hall Park and Polesden Lacey. Earlier this year I took the girls to Box Hill for a breakfast picnic (basically granola on the side of the hill) and we all loved it, so given that they are up and about by 6am at the latest I think we'll repeat that little exercise again.

Go back to our community allotments. One of the nicest things we did last summer was start going to drop-in sessions at the community allotments every week. We met some nice friends and the group is very generous so we always left loaded down with gorgeous fruit and veg the girls (well, Cherry) had helped to pick.

And my personal Easter list includes:

Spend some time with Noel! As we're spending Easter weekend with his family I think we will be taking advantage of the in-laws for a few hours and going off for a much-needed lunch and bit of time just the two of us.

Not stress about bedtimes and general routines. Normally I like the girls in bed super-early (as they get up super-early and YES WE HAVE TRIED letting them stay up later and guess what? THEY STILL GET UP SUPER-EARLY) but over the holidays I don't really want to feel we 'should' be home by a certain time. They can catch up the sleep elsewhere. Cherry will occasionally throw in a nap if she needs it, or they can have an earlier night the next night. I'm not above putting my kids to bed at 5.30pm.

I loved this quote from Adrienne Rich, which I discovered via Lucy's always-brilliant blog, and it has helped me really change the way I look at routines.

Sadly I, like Adrienne herself, am not quite brave enough to embrace such a radical attitude in our everyday life outside of the holidays. I feel I need some predictability and if I'm honest, some time out from my children! I could quite easily find myself parenting from 5.30am when my children get up to gone 9pm were I to throw all routine out of the window, with the children catnapping on the go or separately, allowing me absolutely zero time 'off duty'.

As they are getting older and less bedtime-resistant I hope that we can move towards an equilibrium where the children are attuned to their own body clocks - but the upshot isn't me being hotly in demand for 14 hours a day and completely exhausted as a result!

And finally to catch up on some favourite blogs old and new. My current favourite new discoveries are Revolution from Home and Hands-Free Mama, and you can read about my more established favourites here should you so desire.

Happy Easter! Here's hoping the rain stops. And for no reason here's a picture of Cherry circa 20 months old, because it occurred to me today that Violet's coming up to the age Cherry was when she became a big sister and I got a bit soppy about it all and wondered when this little baby suddenly became such a grown-up girl.