Stupid things I did today

Stupid things I did today: I couldn’t remember PIN numbers for neither my private nor work account while trying to pay in the shop, spent at least 5 minutes parking in the spot which would easily fit two of our cars, tried to take out my contact lenses after I had already taken them out, drove into a tree.
Time to go to sleep and probably continue being stupid in my dreams.

Every day is your birthday

We celebrated Molly’s second birthday two weeks ago. Her Granny and Grampa came from England for a week and on Sunday, which was Molly’s actual birthday, we opened all the presents together, sang “Happy birthday” and went for breakfast to our favourite breakfast place in the whole world – McDonald’s. (You read that right.)

After Molly’s nap, a proper party started. There was a cake (I baked the whole previous evening and was terrified of poisoning our guests, taking my non-existent baking powers into the account), there was a birthday candle (the one from last year, in the shape of the number one, because I forgot to buy a candle this year. Plus, Molly can’t read or count yet so why bother) and since three of her little friends came over, there were even more presents to open. Little neighbour from downstairs brought Molly a home-made birthday crown which she wore proudly for the whole two minutes and there was even more of “Happy birthday” singing.

 Today, two weeks later, Molly was getting ready to go to the daycare when she noticed the crown on the shelf and quickly put it on her head. Then she announced: “Molly birthday” and started singing Happy birthday to herself. The crown stayed on all the way to the car. More singing. The crown was on in the car, more singing and demanding that “Mama also sings!” I tried explaining that it wasn’t actually her birthday and that we could sing a different song but was turned down with the best possible argument (“No”), followed by a loud version of “Happy birthday, dear Molly”, sung to Molly by Molly.

While I was getting Molly out of the car, I noticed that the crown fell off her head and I quickly hid it under the car seat while distracting her by pointing out a very interesting rock on the ground. Not having to explain to the daycare staff that it wasn’t actually her birthday again but that she would appreciate it if they sang along made my morning a lot easier.

Honestly, mostly because I would have probably felt upset if I had found out that they refused to sing and treat my birthday girl with all the attention she needed on her special day.
Even if it was her second birthday second time this year.

Letter to my daughter in expectation of her little brother

MokicaMy dear Molly,

Waiting for your brother to arrive and change our lives completely once again, leaves me with all sorts of mixed emotions.

The concept of mixed emotions might be a little bit difficult for you to grasp – I’m struggling with explaining it as well. So far you can only name three emotions: happy, sad and “asleep” (“spawa”), which I know isn’t an emotion, but you don’t. You also feel anger and frustration a lot and I’ve been trying to encourage you to name that as well, but you’re too angry to listen to me at those moments.

I don’t feel sad or happy or “asleep” but I do feel lots of emotions which I find difficult to pin down and name. For your sake, I’ll keep it basic.

Waiting for your brother makes me a little bit sad.

I’m fully aware of the fact that the time when just the three of us existed in our special little world is about to end. I have to admit something: after you were born, I cried a lot. I felt lost and confused. It felt like having woken up in a parallel universe, where most of the things looked the same but functioned in a different way. And no one told me the rules of the new world. All I had were some contradictory guidelines which I wasn’t sure if and how to follow. So I cried, wishing your Dad and me could have our old life back, in which we were allowed to be as irresponsible as we wanted. I was looking at you and thought you were cute, but I had no idea what to do with you. 

That slowly started changing, though. Your Dad and I started spending our evenings looking at your photos and talking about how adorable you were in every way and how much we missed you after you fall asleep, even though we were grateful you weren’t awake anymore. Soon we couldn’t remember what our lives were like before and what it was that we actually missed. At the moment the three of us exist and enjoy our little bubble, with our intern jokes, and you are definitely our equal. We went from being a couple to being a family of three.

It makes me a bit sad to think that this phase will come to an end. That we will never again be a family of three and you will never again be the only baby we focus on. It makes me sad to think that your brother won’t just be changing your Dad and me, this time your little world will be rocked and turned upside down as well and you’re so tiny and confused as is already.

At the same time, I’m happy. You changed our lives for better, and I know that your brother will do the same. And it will be lovely to experience all of the first smiles, laughs, rolling over, attempts at sitting up, attempts to walk, to speak, to trick us into staying up just a bit longer once again… We learned from you how amazing all of that is and this time you’ll be with us to experience it all and comment on it. The three of us, the “older” ones, can sit together and comment on how silly the baby’s being. I’m excited about your brother learning to say your name more than I’m excited about him calling me “Mama”.

I’m happy that you’ll get to be someone’s big sister because you’re amazing and you have so much to teach him. You thought us so much when we thought we knew everything already! You showed us how not to rush places but instead to stop every now and then and collect some rocks and sticks (maybe smell the flowers while we’re at it), how to put Lego blocks together to make a garage which fits nothing at all but has some animals on the roof and how to resist the urge to build that said garage “properly”, how to demand more of what we enjoy because there’s no reason we should stop kissing just because it’s bath time. And your brother will know nothing to start with. What a great tiny blank canvas for you to paint on with your cute little dirty fingers.

I’m also happy because I can tell that you’re growing into a great little girl which means that your Dad and I are doing a good job, even though we were so confused and scared at the start. It makes me braver when I think about your little baby brother and our future lives together.

In addition to all of this, I’m starting to understand what to feel “asleep” (“spawa”) might mean. We can consider it an emotion – I could now describe it as a feeling of complete calm that resurfaces when you’re lying in bed, thinking about your baby girl who’s growing into a proper girl and her baby brother who’ll we’ll get to meet soon. “Asleep” means enjoying your present life, feeling happy and fulfilled when reflecting on the past, and excitedly looking forward to the future. That is how your mama feels. A little bit sad, but mostly happy and definitely “spawa”.

Volim te.
Mama

Travelling with a toddler is easy!

We’re back on Munich! It was a simple journey, most of it was just motorway:

18:30 Everything’s packed, we’re in the car leaving Rijeka, I’m driving. Our navigation tells us we’ll be home by midnight, we know that it probably means we’ll be home by 2 a.m. but that’s OK.
18:50 We are stuck in a 10km traffic jam, 20km into our journey.
20:45 Finally crossing the border, entering Slovenia, Molly’s happily watching Peppa Pig
21:15 Molly’s very tired, time to go to sleep. Jay saying “Night, night!” is a cue for Molly to throw up all over the car. We have no wet wipes, Jay’s cleaning the car with some of Molly’s clean clothes, Molly’s standing in front of the car shouting “Yucky!” with puke all over her. Including her hair.
21:40 Car and baby are relatively clean, time to drive on.
23:00 Molly’s asleep, we’re in a good mood. We reach a 15km long traffic jam in front of the Slovenian tunnel.
00:00 Jay gets into the driver’s seat, we high five, we’ll be home soon.
00:01 I’m asleep.
01:15 I wake up. We moved 4km since I fell asleep. It takes us another hour to cross into Austria.
03:00 We stop at the public toilet. I notice an interesting business offer. Someone wrote a very explicit message in pen on the toilet wall, suggesting he pays me €100 if he doesn’t manage to satisfy me sexually. It would be easy cash but no time for that. Plus, my heart says No.
03:05 Back in the driver’s seat. Molly’s wide awake, Jay’s trying to get some sleep.
03:10 Molly’s continuously kicking Jay’s chair, shouting “Dada, ne spava!” (Dada, no sleep!)
03:15 Peppa Pig
03:40 I finish a box of biscuits which are basically a kilo of sugar with additives. Molly’s babbling about Peppa’s adventures, keeping Jay awake.
04:45 My eyes keep closing so we switch again. I don’t even remember falling asleep in the passenger seat.
05:21 We’re back in Munich. Molly’s still awake, very excited about being back home, she’s not happy when we tell her she has to go to sleep.
05:30 We’re all asleep in our clothes, Molly still smells of puke, Jay and I smell even worse.
10:00 Waking up in our own bed is lovely.

Whyareyounotsleeping – a poem

If Molly was asked to write a poem about this night, this is what the lyrics would probably be:

One, two, three, four – throw your dummy on the floor,
Five, six, seven, eight – mama, pick it up again!
Nine, eight, seven, six – can I have some nice warm milk?
Five, four, three, two – I was just messing with you.
But this bottle I will keep,
Cause there’s no way I’ll go to sleep!
Maybe I will cry a bit?
Or throw a proper screaming fit?
We’ll find out what the night will bring…
You’re my bitch and I’m the king.
Two, three, four, five – just checking if you’re still alive.

“Peppa Pig” is not what I want to hear

When your child wakes up at 1 a.m. crying loudly and after you ask her if anything hurts, she starts hysterically screaming “Peppa Pig” on repeat, you know she’s been watching too much TV. Or too little. Or she’s in pain. Or she had a bad dream. Or she just wants to be cuddled. Our she’s a spoiled brat. You don’t know anything, actually. “Peppa Pig” is a horrible answer to almost any question asked in the middle of the night.