I was born some 27 years ago just past midnight on a warm May night. I was born in a hospital that has long since been shut down. Present during my birth was my mum, dad a midwife or two and my dad’s younger sister, my aunt. I was born six weeks premature and weighed in at 2500 grams and 45 cm. I was a tiny little baby, too small for nappies and the clothes my proud parents had brought. I was the first born.
Now, 27 years later, Chloe is also our first born. She was born at home on the couch on a snowy January morning. It was a planned home birth and she was born at 8.20 am after merely 6 hours of labour. Present was a midwife, my husband and my parents. She was born the day before my due date and weighed 3525 grams and was 50 cm long. She had a cute little button nose and big, dark eyes.
27 years ago, just an hour after I was born, my aunt gave me her present: A little orange bear. She put him down next to me in my little cot. My whole childhood we have been inseparable. He was there every night, for every sleepover, for every tea party and every holiday. He even travelled to Australia with me at age of 21! He has had a few stitches and one time he had his tail torn off. I cried for a whole hour until my mum was able to reattach it. I love that little bear. And now, 27 years later, I have passed him on to my daughter. He is the first thing she picks up in the morning and the last thing she cuddles at night before closing her little eyes. She loves him too. And I hope they have a wonderful 27 years together.
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It is 08.03 am. Im still in bed next to a sleeping toddler. Little C was made IVF style and after the nurses had painfully extracted 8 eggs from my womb and just before the nice doctor man disappeared to mix up my eggs with hubby’s love juice, I told him we wanted to order the Deluxe Baby 1.0. He gave us – tadaaa – a baby that is just as big a sleepyhead as her parents. Well done, Doc!
She fuzzes and I turn slightly and she sleep crawls into my arms. I place a gentle kiss on her forehead. I love her so much my heart aches.
She is 15 months old and last night was the first time EVER some one babysat her. The first time she was without her mother AND her father for more than 5 minutes. Oh the horror! And the agony. During the hours leading up to it I wanted to cancel a million times!
We had nothing special planned. In fact we were just going training. We both do martial arts and hubby had been wanting to train together again for some time now. My mum had been bugging me to let her babysit for quite some time. So there we were. My brother is home for a week and wants to spend as much time with his niece as possible so I asked the two of them to come over while I, hubby and my dad went to train.
Was it fun? For me – no. Absolutely not. And I don’t need to do it again for a long time. But – and this is a big but – my husband was thrilled we got to train together, my mum and brother was stoked to spend a couple of hours playing with Chloe and, alas, Chloe hadn’t even noticed I was gone 😂
How was your first time away from your little one?
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Chloe Emily was born at home at 8.20 am on a beautiful January morning. It was snowing. I was exhausted, but wide awake. She was beautiful. My husband was so proud. After an hour and Chloe’s first little feed is went to take a shower. I made hubby strip his shirt and give her skin-to-skin contact. I took a fairly long shower and when I came back out they hadn’t moved and inch! She was asleep on his chest. He was uncomfortable, but didn’t dare move. His eyes were full of unshed tears. He was so proud.
When I became pregnant I had never heard the term ‘co-sleeping’ before. I just knew our little baby girl was going to sleep in our bed. In my arms and on my chest. I just knew. Just like I knew I was going to carry her in a wrap, keep her close. Close enough to always be able to kiss her little head and inhale her sweet baby scent. She spent nearly every minute of the day in that wrap – either with me or with her Daddy. She craved the closeness and she slept a lot. Keeping her close just felt right. It felt natural. Even now at nearly 15 months she still spends time in the wrap nearly every day. We don’t own a stroller and the pram has long since been sold.
We kept her close. We responded to her every need, her every cry, her every cue. We took a lot of heat for our way of doing things. We were cuddling her too much, spoiling her, giving her too much love (!), making her dependent on us. She was 4 weeks old. On the inside I wavered, on the inside I cried. On the outside I stood fast. I did not waver. I knew we were doing what was right for our little girl. I held my ground. Alone, I cried.
I didn’t know the term ‘attachment parenting’. Chloe was 6 months old when I learnt of this type of parenting. When I researched it and joined a Facebook group it felt like coming home.
To be continued…
So I’m a freshly hatched vegetarian – or actually I’m a pescetarian as I still eat fish. I’ve been working towards it since I was a teenager and with the birth of Chloe it s…
Source: Do Vegetarians go to the Zoo?
So I’m a freshly hatched vegetarian – or actually I’m a pescetarian as I still eat fish. I’ve been working towards it since I was a teenager and with the birth of Chloe it seemed like the time. She inspired me so to speak to finally walk the talk. I had planned on working up to being completely meat free little by little, but suddenly a week after having made the decision I realised that I hadn’t had any meat in 6 days. Easy peasy! Hubby hasn’t eaten cow or pig in like 25 years, but still eats chicken and fish. Chloe eats anything that’s put in front of her. I don’t want to make her a vegetarian, because honestly food – all food – is amazing and I want her experience life with all its wonderful tastes and smells. I just make sure they eat organic and free range.
This newfound pescetarianisme (is that a word? It is now) has brought a lot of new questions though and one of them is of a rather surprising nature. It so happened that we were at an Easter brunch with the family yesterday and we started talking about taking a trip to a big safari park this Summer. ‘Oooh!’ I thought. Chloe would love the animals. But then I started thinking: Do people who don’t eat meat out of animal welfare reasons go to the zoo – a place where wild animals are being held captive? I couldn’t find an answer. Personal beliefs versus Chloe’s lit up cute little face when she sees all the animals?
What is your opinion?
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My beautiful little bear cub is in upheaval these days. She’s just learned to walk, she’s getting her 9th and 10th tooth and she’s figuring out that she can do a lot of things herself – at least she tries to! Basically there’s a lot happening in her world at the moment. Which leads to her sleeping… Not so well. She fusses and tosses and turns all night, wanting her pacifier, wanting milk, wanting hugs and cuddles. All of which I am happy to give her. But honestly, we’re going on three nights with very little sleep so it would be nice if mr. Hubby could take over some of the time. But no. He’s just lying right there, snoring away! Should I finally succeed in getting bub to sleep, chances are she’ll be woken up again by his wood sawing!
After a very unsatisfying sleep last night and a toddler who woke up at 5 am (!!!) I was beat! We snuggled in bed for a while – Chloe snuggled and I cursed mr-I-haven’t-taken-a-single-night-in-14-months. I was so close to kicking him! (One could argue that maybe I should say something. Something like “why don’t you take your daughter tonight and I’ll go sleep on the couch. Not to be disturbed”, but we all know it’s much more fun being a bitter martyr). Anyway I got up, changed and dressed little miss C and started breakfast.
Standing in the kitchen I could hear him snore. Hoping to wake him up I turned on the juicer – nothing (except for delicious juice). Having fed the monkey her chia oatmeal we ventured back into the bedroom. I let Chloe do the wakening of the semi unconscious daddy – he was not amused – and then I went to get get dressed. “I’m tired” he muttered. Tired? Tired?! This fire spewing dragon here (also known as Mommy) turned sharply and unleashed a small barrage of well-chosen words.
When mr. Hubby left it was with kisses and the promise of chocolate and Pepsi Max upon his return. Mommy: 1 Daddy: 0
Of course we don’t actually keep score, we are , after all, adults. Some of the time anyway. Okay, who am I kidding? Everyone keeps score. Sometimes I’m up and he’s down and sometimes he’s up and I’m down. Rarely are we even.
But we love each other. Even though he can be an idiot and I can be a bitter, annoying martyr.
Thanks for reading my rant.
Let it gooooo! I love Frozen! Well, I love Olaf the snowman. Chloe has these cute little Olaf suits that my seamstress friend makes. Adorable! Anyway, this is about letting go. Letting go of all the expectations and guilt. You know, those guilty feelings that come sneaking when you don’t get around to doing the laundry or when you’d rather lie on the couch and watch Netflix than wash the floor.
I nap with Chloe almost every day. Well, she naps ON me that is. Sometimes I watch a movie, sometimes I read a book, sometimes (most often) I just Facebook and read blogs. Sometimes I do all the above at once. Sometimes I just sleep too. I LOVE those 2-3 hours a day where she just cuddles in my arms. I love watching her sleep. But sometimes I feel guilty. I hear that nagging little voice in the back of my mind go “you really should do the laundry. And clean the bathroom. And do yoga. And and and..” A gazillion other things. Bleh. Then I stumbled upon something the other day and it completely blew my mind!
Instead of saying “I don’t have time”, just admit that it’s not a priority! I totally should do the laundry and for sure I have the time – it’s just not a priority. I just really don’t want to. I would rather lie here with my bub and catch up on the latest Kardashian news, watch TWD or maybe just close my eyes for an hour or two. And it’s totally okay! Shifting my thoughts from “I don’t have the time” or “I should do this or that” to “I do have the time, but it’s just not a priority right now” has really set me free. I now enjoy our hours on the couch – stress free. Everything always gets done eventually anyway.
Love and stress free thoughts,
So in my last post I promised to tell you what happened the other night. If your mind is anything like mine (in the gutter), it’s not what you think.
The thing is we co-sleep, meaning we all sleep in the same bed. Little bub on one side closest to the wall, mama san in the middle and daddy on the outside. That’s been the arrangement ever since our little one was born on a snowy January morning. She sleeps pretty well, both day and night, but still wakes up occasionly looking for her pacifier or just to snuggle closer to mommy. Sometimes she needs to eat and on rare occasions she needs a new nappy. Point is I ALWAYS wake up when she stirrs – even if she doesn’t wake up, but merely fuzzes I wake.
The other night I had crawled into bed next to my sleeping toddler and had fallen fast asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Hubby was (thankfully) still watching a movie in the living room. I woke up around midnight by Hubby carrying little C back to bed! She had apparently woken up, crawled over me and down off the bed and into the living room, where Hubby nearly had a heart attack! All without me waking up. Needless to say I didn’t get much sleep that night.
How about you? Where do your little ones sleep?
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So. Yesterday was St Patty’s day! Now that’s a holiday I wish we celebrated here. Lots of green, drunken shenanigans. Leprechauns everywhere – green leprechauns! Basically, summing it, here’s how America looks like from the outside on St. Patrick’s Day: Lots of green, lots of drunk people, lots of green, drunk people singing… and leprechauns. Yep, that’s pretty much it. Total awesomeness! I reside in the cold North – of Europe that is – and sadly we do not celebrate this green day of awesomeness here. We have Halloween and Valentine’s Day, but no one has bothered to bring over St. Patty’s. Shame, really. We nick everything else from across the pond so why not this little gem..
About seven years ago when I was just a wee little doe-eyed twenty-year-old I spent some time in Hawaii – great place! While there this lovely holiday of green festivities rolled around and my friends and I were constantly invited to parties (you know, by those guys that stand on the side walk and hand out flyers). Excited to be part of such a cool tradition we grabbed the flyers with a big fat “YES” followed by a sound that went something like this “MUAHAHA”. Upon enquiring about our age and us (of course) being honest, the green golden dreams were quickly snatched from us again. Alas.
We ended up attending an (alcohol free) party at our hostel. A party at which I met a tall, handsome bloke from Boston. Ah, but I digress.
Anyway, bring it on! Next year I’m throwing a St. Patrick’s Day party at my house – and you’re all invited!
This post was actually not going to be about the aforementioned holiday, but I am easily sidetracked. It was going to be about what happened last night and maybe a little bit about me – who is this mystery mommy blogger (who hasn’t yet mentioned her child)?
Well, , we’ve established that I come from Europe – the cold part. I am not a native English speaker. I do have an adorable little toddler – she is a girl and she is 14 months old and the joy of my life.
That’s all you get for now. Maybe next time I’ll tell you about last night.