In the six months since little L’s birth, I have barely been separated from my precious baby girl. There have been about ten evenings where I nipped out for an hour or two, leaving Big M behind to keep a close eye on the baby monitor. An easy task, as little L usually doesn’t wake until the wee hours, once mummy has tucked her in and kissed her good night. Then there have been about six times she spent an hour in the gym crèche, guarded by the lovely Jane and her staff. But all of a sudden, little L decided not to like staying there anymore, and Met Mum had to be called to her rescue via the intercom. So there it went, my tiny bit of me-time.
It’s official now. The leaves are falling, temperatures barely climb over the 20C mark and scarves, gloves and hats are back on the menu. It’s autumn! One thing that really cheered me up recently is… gardening. Maybe it’s because I am a mum now, that I find these things appealing. The whole philosophy of the circle of life, the old making space for the new, the deep connection between life and death. Or maybe I am just getting old.
In a recent comment-conversation, the lovely Rose said: ‘Oh I envy little L, I imagine she has a great wardrobe of clothes!’ I had to think about this, because a) yes, she does (thanks to her generous grandma, little L is sporting Ugg Boots, pink Ralph Lauren corduroys and a white Petit Bateau hooded jacket in the picture above) and b) I envy her myself, because she’s better dressed than me. Realising this kind of hurt, but it’s the truth and it’s time to face it: I am a slummy mummy.
Little L will turn six months next Thursday. Time to start weaning your baby – as recommended by The Department of Health. However, we started to wean her at about 20 weeks. In contrary to my insecurities regarding how to breastfeed my baby, I made this decision based on a little research, a lot of gut feeling and closely watching my baby. In the end it was her who gave me all the clues that breast (only) is no longer best
Little L is having her first ever cold. And ever so generous, she passed it on to me. Not without mummy pride I realised that we managed to get pretty far without the slightest sign of a sniff. Can you believe that she’s five and a half months already?
SMACK. I remember the tingling sensation on my cheek and how astonished I was about the loudness a flat hand landing on my face could cause. Smacking wasn’t one of my mother’s preferred educational measures, but in this particular case she made an exception and put in all her fears and anger and frustration.
Having renovated a house recently, I can honestly say that watching paint dry is more exciting than attempting to diet. The last diet (remember Fat Smash: peas and lentils and lentils and peas) was ditched after four days. Four days! Instead we went to New York and tucked into pancakes (sky-high pancake piles soaked in maple syrup, accompanied by fried eggs and bacon), pizza and gigantic chocolate chip cookies. Only to be followed by the New England diet, i.e. lobsters and melted butter, corn on the cob and pumpkin pie. I know this is going to surprise you, but I STILL haven’t lost those last three pounds.
Hotsling baby carrier to give away. Attention: only for the seasoned user
When I was pregnant with little L, I envisioned myself as one of those boho style mummies: long hair floating in the wind, wrapped in a poncho, baby L snugly propped into her baby pouch carrier.
Last Sunday was seeing little L and me attending the Christening of L’s babyfriend T. On our way to the reception, one of the guests asked me, if I was going to have little L baptised. Answering the question herself, she said ‘Well, I guess it’s better to have them baptised at an early age.’ Is it? I am not quite so sure.
Big M embarked on a trip this morning to spend the weekend on his brother’s stag ‘night’, leaving me with a thick and heavy cloud hanging over my head. Let’s called it the post-vacation blues.