A Little Girl and an Old Bear

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.

Love,

Chloe’s mom

 

When Daddy is being an ass and Mommy is a martyr

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.

Love,
Chloe’s mom

Let it gooo…

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,
Chloe’s mom

About last night…

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?

Love,

Chloe’s mom

Follow me on Instagram