Done with the night-time snacks

Since I’m not happy with Oskar’s idea of waking up and breastfeeding at least six times at night anymore, I’m bracing myself for a few sleepless nights ahead, until he accepts that sleeping doesn’t have to involve boobs.

I know that he’s not keen on the idea because he expressed his dissatisfaction loudly and persistently this evening. For about two hours.

I almost gave in a couple of times, but I’m proud of having resisted his adorable, very angry face.

The definite highlite of the evening was when, among all the shouting and screaming and complaining, Oskar lifted his index finger and waved it in the air while I sang “One little finger”.

Angry and determined baby vs. exhausted, but determined mum. How’s this going to go down?

I’ll probably be singing “One little finger” for the next seven hours. Wish me luck.

Happy birthday, baby!

Oskar turned one yesterday.

In the past year he learned how to eat, crawl, pull himself up to stand next to the furniture and people’s legs, complain, demand attention, wave, clap, point his finger at random objects with no particular aim. He has six teeth and he uses them well.

Dislikes: long car journeys, having his nappy changed, getting dressed, getting undressed, going to sleep, being asleep, staying asleep, the idea of sleep.

Likes: broccoli, funny noises, long walks, clapping, bath time, throwing his food to Klara, opening and closing drawers and doors.

Loves: his siblings, who successfully make him laugh.

Happy birthday, sweet baby! You’re adorable and funny and we love you and we can’t wait to get to know you even better in the years to come. No rush, though, take it slowly. Most of the time we like having a baby in the house.

Protecting ourselves against the Coronavirus

When I was a kid, I was terrified that I was going to receive the ebola virus in a letter (?) from someone in Africa (?!) and that I’d consequently die, bleeding through my eyes and mouth (?!!).

Compared to that image, high fever and coughing doesn’t sound too bad. Still, try not to get infected, guys.

If you need it, I got sent a video on how to make a face mask out of a bra. I’ll be happy to forward it to you if you happen to have bras you’ll be happy to cut lying around.

If you’re looking for a solution that’s practical and healthy at the same time, a friend told me how to make a “Vitamine C mask”: take an orange, cut it in half, tie it to your face.

Otherwise, maybe just don’t hang out with people who are infected and wash your hands regularly. That’s what I’ll be doing, at least.

Google me this

My blog has existed for more than seven years now. In those seven years I’ve had, on average, one visitor per day (and it was probably my mum). Statistics tell me most of the visitors come directly from my Facebook page.

So far I’ve never had anyone stumble upon the blog accidentally, by googling a random term. Until yesterday.

Yesterday someone found me when they searched for (Drumroll!): “iva morning shitting”.

Dear visitor, whoever you were, you made my day. I sincerely hope you found what you were looking for. Come back again, I’ll try to include more of the content you might be interested in. 😘

Doing, not trying

Molly’s life moto is: “I don’t like trying things, I like doing things.” This basically means she’s not patient enough to listen and learn from other people and she has to do everything on her own.

She’s been like that since I can remember. At the age of two, it once took her literally 45 minutes to put her shoes on. But she did it. On her own. And, since she was the only child at the time, I had my coffee in peace, watching her struggle, not allowed to help.

She has a similar approach to school now. At the moment, she’s teaching herself to read and wants no help. I find it frustrating. I get impatient listening to her mispronouncing sounds and making words up.

A couple of days ago I was watching her attempting to read a book to Oskar and we were both getting irritable – me with her not being concentrated enough, her with me correcting her too often.

To focus on something else, I went to take a photo of “my little girl reading to her brother”. The front camera surprised me and I was quite shocked to see my own face. Here’s a photo of a “supportive mum listening to her little girl reading”.

It’s not a wonder she wasn’t into it. My face conveyed all of my enthusiasm. 🙈😂

Message to myself: I need to get back mentally to the place from five years ago, where I was able to observe her patiently. I need to look for clues on when and how to get involved myself.

First steps: (Fake) smile. Deep breaths. Silent encouragement. Let her do her thing at her own pace. She’s trying, soon she’ll be “doing”. 😉