I am back…What do you think of my book cover? I am a citizen of the world!
Let’s admit it: despite all my passports I’m still French, through and through. All the cultural shifts and the years that have whisked by haven’t changed it. My children, now adults, seem to have dodged the bullet of trauma, or at least they hide it well. They’re okay, which means I can safely say the parenting gig was a success, right?
But let’s talk rebranding. “French Yummy Grandmummy”? It sounds like I should be knitting in the corner with a cat on my lap, and I’m not there yet — far from it. I believe that I am too chic for cardigans and too lively for bingo nights. And I can still run, baby.
Let’s clear this up: my previous blog “French Yummy Mummy” was always laced with sarcasm. Yes, even us French can be sarcastic, contrary to what you might think. Maybe I should embrace the truth and go with “Menopausal French Yummy Mummy.” The M-word doesn’t scare me; it’s just part of the journey where we gain weight, wisdom, and a grumpier disposition.
Invisibility? Oh, it’s real. Once you hit a certain age, you become part of the furniture to the younger crowd. But there’s power in that invisibility — we can observe, critique, and not give a hoot about what’s trendy or expected. And believe me, it feels really good…
I’m proudly middle-aged and menopausal, and I won’t shuffle out of your way just because I’m supposed to. We middle-aged women are not here to parrot what you want to hear. We’ve got our own minds, our own opinions, and we’re not afraid to share them. So, call me what you will, but remember, this French Yummy Mummy is still very much in the game, just with a bit more sass and a lot less patience for nonsense.
Living in Australia for the last 8 years, I’ve learned to love the laid-back lifestyle, but my god, do I crave some more intellectual stimulation. And let’s not talk about the local renewable vs. nuclear debate — it’s like watching toddlers play with crayons. It’s enough to drive anyone up the wall, and I’m no exception. Is it possible to have a real debate with facts and figures in this country? I honestly don’t think so. It’s much easier to keep slandering. But hey, facts don’t care about your feelings, and if being myself is what gets under your skin, then I’m just going to keep being me, but maybe with a little less filter.
We’re living in times so bizarre, facts might as well be fiction. So, let’s set the record straight: I am me, not some accessory to any man. And I love facts & figures. Guilty as charged.
Well, darling, I’m no potiche (Google it if you haven’t heard). The mainstream media? I’ve grown to loathe it, thanks in part to their relentless parade of falsehoods and fabrications about yours truly. Where’s the accountability, huh? They just keep spinning their web of nonsense…But onwards & upwards, right? Let’s focus on the new media and ignore the antiquated media where the lines between gossip and facts are blurry.
They’re on their way out anyway (and I, for one, can’t wait). That’s why I’m itching to write again, to offer my unfiltered take on the world. I am Muriel, and my voice is about to get a lot louder… Introducing the expansion of the now French Yummy MummieS (plural!) where other like-minded ladies will contribute to providing an unfiltered 21st (sorry the 1900s called they want their media back) view. Coming soon.
