Last night I slept in my blue jeans

I left Daddy and the boys singing Christmas carols in their room just before lights out, as Little Miss D was getting eager for her nightcap. It was a little after 8pm when I laid down beside her on my bed, and I figured why not just get forty winks and a snuggle before I head on back out to the cabin to deal with the day's toy-tipping and plastic (made in) China pile-up in the kitchen sink?

I vaguely remember Daddy considerately asking "Do you want me to take off your jeans?" So that I could sleep better people! (Jeez).

"No, it'll just wake her up.."  (baby girl was curled in tight against my tummy and breast) "and besides, I'll be up again in an hour, so there's really no point..." (Momma's glass is always half-full when it comes to sleeping)

Then

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

There was a diaper change sometime around 1:40am... and I remember her singing to me a little after 3:00am. And I'm pretty sure both of these occasions included a float full of milk guzzling. But other than that, 6:44am blinked the digital clock when I opened my eyes to a brand new day.

Just shy of eleven hours me and my girl had been hibernating.

And boy did we need it - at least, Momma did. I was so jacked up about my full night's sleep I literally bounced out of bed and pulled last night's discarded bra and shirt back on. I was still wearing the blue jeans I'd had on the day before (and the day before that).

I don't look too shabby, eh?

They're stonewashed and really soft - I've had them for decades (literally). They have real authentic rips on the knees and thighs. Not the manufactured kind. These are the kind of rips that happen naturally on those fatter than usual days - particularly when they're freshly washed and Momma doesn't think before popping a squat, or climbing onto a chair - or engaging in some obscure position horse-play (like horsey or twister for example).

(Incidentally, anyone ever climbed up on stage in a nightclub wearing PVC pants,only to have both arse cheeks rip in unison in front of a crowd? That would be just me then.)

"I see you had Rice Krispies for breakfast......"

So far they are not that indecent - I'm waiting for that final and fateful rip - but they're not exactly what you would call decent either.

By most people's standards they were ready for the rag bin years ago but I LOVE them, not least of all because they are one of the only forgiving 'pant' items in my wardrobe that fit me in this awkward post baby pooch phase (the pooch sits on top of the low waistband - just like the baby bump did.)

I guess I could fix them, if I'm going to be too cheap to replace them. But, let's face it, patches are just geeky. I'd much rather look like a scruff bag.

A little over six months ago, when I really started getting into blogging, I joined bloggers.com and stumbled across fashion blogging - there are MILLIONS of you out there!

As fun as it all was, seeing what the big celebs are wearing these days, it wasn't great for my self esteem. I didn't even recognize most of these whippersnapper celebs. Where was Gwyneth Paltrow and Jennifer Anniston?

I soon realized how 'old' and untrendy I'd become (Okay, so I was never that fashionable in the first place, but in my heyday I definitely knew how to blend well into the nightclub scene.)

I was, however, once on the younger side of the trash-mag celebrity pool. Now I find myself on the wrong side of thirty, flicking through 'People' mag desperately hoping to catch a rare story about Nicole Kidman or Cameron Diaz.

Thank God for Brangelina! They might be getting on a bit - but they're still hot to trot!

Anyway. I found a blog post celebrating ripped jeans and how they are 'back'. Awesome! I knew I was super cool all along....

Lindsay Lohan, eat your heart out!