As if he read that last post, the next day Baby Boy picked up the pace on calling me 'mamma' :-D And admittedly, it's pretty cool to be called 'mamma' :-D
Also new this week, every time BB hears a noise outside (pretty much every five minutes, on average, as there is still a lot of construction going on a couple of blocks away), he looks at me expectantly and asks "pappa?". Have to disappoint him, most of the time - "no, pappa is at work...". Adding that when he hears hammering and drilling, it most likely isn't his dad. Who has a lot of talents. But home improvement, or singing, are not two of them ;-)
Friday, August 21, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
words
On Wednesday the 12th of August, Baby Boy said his first word!
Well, he's been saying 'pappa', 'pappuh', 'pap' & pretty much any other form of the word's repetitive syllables. And he means his dad when saying it, too! He's been doing the same with 'mamma', but that doesn't necessarily mean 'me, the mamma wrapping the girl within', at all times. Ah, never mind - that day will come too :-) I am not upset about this. Much. No, but seriously, I'm not :-) As someone pointed out the other day, he sees me every day, the whole day long, pretty much, so he doesn't really need to speculate about me by 'name' ;-)
I was dying to find out what word, out of the millions available to us all, Baby Boy would choose as his first! Not that I really want him to grow up faster than he already does, but being a bit of a word-junkie myself, it is just one of these things I was looking forward to, a little more so than other developmental hurray-moments.
And there it was! His chosen word! It's 'schaap' (sheep), pronounced as 'aap', which incidentally means 'monkey' - I'm so proud :-D
The only thing left to hope for, is that 'sheep' will not substitute 'mamma', and that we, the parental units, will not henceforward be known as 'sheep & monkey', or 'schaap & aap'... ;-)
Well, he's been saying 'pappa', 'pappuh', 'pap' & pretty much any other form of the word's repetitive syllables. And he means his dad when saying it, too! He's been doing the same with 'mamma', but that doesn't necessarily mean 'me, the mamma wrapping the girl within', at all times. Ah, never mind - that day will come too :-) I am not upset about this. Much. No, but seriously, I'm not :-) As someone pointed out the other day, he sees me every day, the whole day long, pretty much, so he doesn't really need to speculate about me by 'name' ;-)
I was dying to find out what word, out of the millions available to us all, Baby Boy would choose as his first! Not that I really want him to grow up faster than he already does, but being a bit of a word-junkie myself, it is just one of these things I was looking forward to, a little more so than other developmental hurray-moments.
And there it was! His chosen word! It's 'schaap' (sheep), pronounced as 'aap', which incidentally means 'monkey' - I'm so proud :-D
The only thing left to hope for, is that 'sheep' will not substitute 'mamma', and that we, the parental units, will not henceforward be known as 'sheep & monkey', or 'schaap & aap'... ;-)
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
wuss
That whole giant ant-wasp-beetle-thing story cut deeper than you'd think!
This morning, I forgot to take the black elastic band out of my hair before taking off my shirt, and it got tangled to the side of my face. From the corner of my eye I saw this Huge Black Thing swinging from my hair, and I actually - almost - screamed!
This morning, I forgot to take the black elastic band out of my hair before taking off my shirt, and it got tangled to the side of my face. From the corner of my eye I saw this Huge Black Thing swinging from my hair, and I actually - almost - screamed!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
what I made
But I was going to show what I made when my sewing machine broke down & got fixed.
Because I said I would... Not because I'm particularly proud, nor because I want you to tell me I should be. Making things myself is not something I do a lot. Ah, I should say "I didn't do a lot of that", because I have only just re-invented being creative, a little, and I have at least the intention to do some more art-ish-tics - *no fixed time frame* ;-)
What I'm trying to say is, I don't have a lot of experience (unlike so many intimidatingly talented people out there! ), which doesn't quite mesh with being a perfectionist ;-) I find it very hard to be proud of something I made, especially when it's kind of cute - and definitely well-intentioned (always that!) - but not quite perfect...
Anyway, here are the pictures:
Baby Boy loves his store-bought heart-with-labels, and he loves to run his nails over the letters I appliqued on the covers of the wicker baskets a week ago, so I decided a combination of those two favourites might make a good baby gift for Man's second cousin's new baby (breathe! complicated compound sentence finished!).
But I imagined it a lot nicer than it turned out... And if there is one thing I find harder than to enjoy something my-own-hands-made, it's giving it away to someone I don't know that well really. Okay, face it, I find it hard to give away something I made myself even when I'm happy with the result, even to someone I know well. Because I think the recipient might think I'm too cheap to buy a gift... That they'll see the tag, which says 'handmade' (yes, the tag too...), and they'll say "that's a bit on the unnecessary side of things, honey, we can tell it's handmade just by looking at it"...
Suffice to finish with, I'm not sure this particular handmade heart will make it to that particular new-born. And that I'll keep practising. And that I really don't know why I posted this log, apart from the fact that I said I would!
Because I said I would... Not because I'm particularly proud, nor because I want you to tell me I should be. Making things myself is not something I do a lot. Ah, I should say "I didn't do a lot of that", because I have only just re-invented being creative, a little, and I have at least the intention to do some more art-ish-tics - *no fixed time frame* ;-)
What I'm trying to say is, I don't have a lot of experience (unlike so many intimidatingly talented people out there! ), which doesn't quite mesh with being a perfectionist ;-) I find it very hard to be proud of something I made, especially when it's kind of cute - and definitely well-intentioned (always that!) - but not quite perfect...
Anyway, here are the pictures:
Baby Boy loves his store-bought heart-with-labels, and he loves to run his nails over the letters I appliqued on the covers of the wicker baskets a week ago, so I decided a combination of those two favourites might make a good baby gift for Man's second cousin's new baby (breathe! complicated compound sentence finished!).
But I imagined it a lot nicer than it turned out... And if there is one thing I find harder than to enjoy something my-own-hands-made, it's giving it away to someone I don't know that well really. Okay, face it, I find it hard to give away something I made myself even when I'm happy with the result, even to someone I know well. Because I think the recipient might think I'm too cheap to buy a gift... That they'll see the tag, which says 'handmade' (yes, the tag too...), and they'll say "that's a bit on the unnecessary side of things, honey, we can tell it's handmade just by looking at it"...
Suffice to finish with, I'm not sure this particular handmade heart will make it to that particular new-born. And that I'll keep practising. And that I really don't know why I posted this log, apart from the fact that I said I would!
fiend
Yesterday, Baby Boy had his first Brush with Nature - Up Close & Personal. He had grabbed hold of a huge monster that was taking a walk through the living room, insect-style (what was it doing there in the first place?!).
I was busy with the breast pump, BB not directly in my line of vision, and when he cried out, it was just after a bit of thunder outside, so I didn't immediately disentangle myself to see what was going on (bad mommy!). But when he cried again, I unplugged to see what the fuss was about. The Thing was stuck to his little hand, and it must have bitten him, or done something with its pincer-stinger-thingy! Bastard!
I checked BB's hands, and kept a close eye on him for the next few hours, but thankfully there seemed to be no ill effects... All the better since I couldn't find out what the Thing was, apart from it being an insect through basic determination. Here are the pictures, the building block measures 4.5 cm!
After its little scrap with Baby Boy, it found itself dead. & no, not by me - I'm too scared for my karma!
Four reasons why it wasn't Michael Jackson, even though it's dead:
I was busy with the breast pump, BB not directly in my line of vision, and when he cried out, it was just after a bit of thunder outside, so I didn't immediately disentangle myself to see what was going on (bad mommy!). But when he cried again, I unplugged to see what the fuss was about. The Thing was stuck to his little hand, and it must have bitten him, or done something with its pincer-stinger-thingy! Bastard!
I checked BB's hands, and kept a close eye on him for the next few hours, but thankfully there seemed to be no ill effects... All the better since I couldn't find out what the Thing was, apart from it being an insect through basic determination. Here are the pictures, the building block measures 4.5 cm!
After its little scrap with Baby Boy, it found itself dead. & no, not by me - I'm too scared for my karma!
Four reasons why it wasn't Michael Jackson, even though it's dead:
- I couldn't find it on the internet,
- it was really BIG, relatively speaking,
- it was actually black,
- last but not least - apparently it didn't like children.
Do you know what this thing is? Please let me know, FFR!
Monday, August 10, 2009
daredevil
I fixed my sewing machine the other day!
Right in the middle of a little project, the machine decided it had done enough over the years. Not for me, by the way; I'm not a gifted sewer (in either meaning of the word), I generally don't aim higher than straight seams and even that sporadically - but the machine is second-hand, and it has clearly & visibly been used before.
Anyway, I switched it off for a break, and when I got back to it, it didn't want to switch on again. My first instinctive reaction was to cry ("I don't have time for this crap! I hardly ever want to sew anything, really, and when I do gather courage, I need it to go smooth, and I need all potential mishaps to at least be my mishaps, not the equipment's failures!" - that type of tantrum).
But then I remembered my parents were coming over that afternoon: my dad was going to be there, and he can make pretty much anything electrical work again! Daddy will make it all better! Just like he used to! (how, @ times, I miss those imaginary days that grown-ups could fix everything, but that's another story!)
Aha & okay! Safety net in place - crying put off till after my dad tells me it's hopeless, I decided to 'go in' and see if this isn't fixable for beginners. I turned the machine over onto its side and peered at the bottom cover. CAUTION: no user serviceable parts! A little emblem with a screwdriver and a wrench and a big cross through both. SERVICE TECHNICIAN: disconnect electrical plug before removing cover for service! - I don't know about you, but I'm not sure I want a technician who needs that particular bit of warning anywhere near my sewing machine or any other electrical appliance, but that's beside the point.
Those warnings didn't deter me one bit! I took screwdriver to hand, threw caution in the wind and unscrewed the cover. Found the inner workings of the switch-thingy, switched it to the 'on' position, decided never to switch it off again, and Bob was my uncle (figure of speach-wise anyway)!
That's all! I know, a bit of an anti-climax, but I got my sewing machine back and finished my project - will show & tell in my next post!
That afternoon, my father took a look at the machine, and at what I did to fix it, and decided that's what he would have done, too - now how's that for a girl?! :-D
Right in the middle of a little project, the machine decided it had done enough over the years. Not for me, by the way; I'm not a gifted sewer (in either meaning of the word), I generally don't aim higher than straight seams and even that sporadically - but the machine is second-hand, and it has clearly & visibly been used before.
Anyway, I switched it off for a break, and when I got back to it, it didn't want to switch on again. My first instinctive reaction was to cry ("I don't have time for this crap! I hardly ever want to sew anything, really, and when I do gather courage, I need it to go smooth, and I need all potential mishaps to at least be my mishaps, not the equipment's failures!" - that type of tantrum).
But then I remembered my parents were coming over that afternoon: my dad was going to be there, and he can make pretty much anything electrical work again! Daddy will make it all better! Just like he used to! (how, @ times, I miss those imaginary days that grown-ups could fix everything, but that's another story!)
Aha & okay! Safety net in place - crying put off till after my dad tells me it's hopeless, I decided to 'go in' and see if this isn't fixable for beginners. I turned the machine over onto its side and peered at the bottom cover. CAUTION: no user serviceable parts! A little emblem with a screwdriver and a wrench and a big cross through both. SERVICE TECHNICIAN: disconnect electrical plug before removing cover for service! - I don't know about you, but I'm not sure I want a technician who needs that particular bit of warning anywhere near my sewing machine or any other electrical appliance, but that's beside the point.
Those warnings didn't deter me one bit! I took screwdriver to hand, threw caution in the wind and unscrewed the cover. Found the inner workings of the switch-thingy, switched it to the 'on' position, decided never to switch it off again, and Bob was my uncle (figure of speach-wise anyway)!
That's all! I know, a bit of an anti-climax, but I got my sewing machine back and finished my project - will show & tell in my next post!
That afternoon, my father took a look at the machine, and at what I did to fix it, and decided that's what he would have done, too - now how's that for a girl?! :-D
Saturday, August 8, 2009
9 months
This last Thursday, the 6th of August, Baby Boy has been living in the Outside World for exactly - to the day - as long as he parasitised (in the best possible meaning of the word) inside of me! Another milestone in the lives of both of us!
He's still getting mamma-milk (only as a supplement to 'food-food', of course) and I am so proud of that, considering the effort we both put in to get it happening & happening right, that I just wanted to have that mentioned :-D
Baby Boy is beautiful & cute & growing (way too rapidly!) into himself; it's fun & amazing to watch...
& I'm well aware that this is a soppy post to the point of 'bring out the violins', but this is my blog, & I write what I want to ;-)
He's still getting mamma-milk (only as a supplement to 'food-food', of course) and I am so proud of that, considering the effort we both put in to get it happening & happening right, that I just wanted to have that mentioned :-D
Baby Boy is beautiful & cute & growing (way too rapidly!) into himself; it's fun & amazing to watch...
& I'm well aware that this is a soppy post to the point of 'bring out the violins', but this is my blog, & I write what I want to ;-)
organic fantasy
They have re-invented their line of organic foods at the local upmarket grocery; all the labels are now... well, how you'd expect the 'target-audience' to like them. Bolder fonts in white on natural colours and hints of idyllic country living. Okay, the last bit is my interpretation ;-)
I always look through the whole selection of baby food on the shelves - try to give Baby Boy as much variation as possible - which includes organic. I don't mind organic. Organic is food, right?
I spot 'Blueberry Fantasy' among the organic fruitmixes - now that sounds interesting! I check the ingredients, and discover they have added a handful (7%!) of blueberries to a lot (93%!) of - organic, they feel they need to mention - apples!
They call the line 'Pure & Honest', and I can't fault them there; it's a lot more 'Fantasy' than 'Blueberry', but they didn't actually lie.
Still, I didn't buy the jar. Somehow felt cheated. Another idyllic country dream shattered...
I always look through the whole selection of baby food on the shelves - try to give Baby Boy as much variation as possible - which includes organic. I don't mind organic. Organic is food, right?
I spot 'Blueberry Fantasy' among the organic fruitmixes - now that sounds interesting! I check the ingredients, and discover they have added a handful (7%!) of blueberries to a lot (93%!) of - organic, they feel they need to mention - apples!
They call the line 'Pure & Honest', and I can't fault them there; it's a lot more 'Fantasy' than 'Blueberry', but they didn't actually lie.
Still, I didn't buy the jar. Somehow felt cheated. Another idyllic country dream shattered...
Friday, August 7, 2009
slob
I use the vacuum cleaner every other day and mop the floor every week. So how come Baby Boy still manages to look like Mamma never even heard of cleaning?!
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
OMG
I have no moral objections against people having a sex life. Honestly, no problem with a little action between two consenting (almost-) adults whatsoever. But back when I was an au pair - which is longer ago than I care to put a price tag on! - I did have a bit of an issue with something I never mentioned to the people involved: the dear mom & dad in my guest family had their (monthly? weekly? don't remember - and be fair; should I?!) bit of fun with their door open, and loud enough for me, and who knows who else, to hear! Squirm! I never knew where to look at breakfast the next morning ;-)
Okay, you've got to be wondering where I'm going with this after all those years, right? Well... When Baby Boy does his newly mastered belly crawl, he sounds just like dear old Mrs K. on a roll in the marital hay! I kid you not! OMG, I swear he sounds exactly like her riding the horse to the finish line :-D
Oh, this is a terrible story - but it's too true & had to be told :-D
Now I don't have to fear that Mrs K. will ever come across this little piece of information, lost touch with the family years ago (although I can find assorted members on Facebook, and my-oh-my have they grown up!!). But if she would read this (or any of the au pairs moving in before and after me - I doubt she started all this when I was there, or that she stopped when I left, LOL), I'm telling you, she doesn't need to meet my beautiful Baby Boy - she would know exactly what the little tyke sounds like on his exploring missions around the house ;-)
P.S. to perverts! Don't even go there! This only clicked a week ago! Little old attic trapdoor in my brain, much like playing Trivial Pursuit; Mrs. K. has not been ringing in my ear ever since way back when!
Okay, you've got to be wondering where I'm going with this after all those years, right? Well... When Baby Boy does his newly mastered belly crawl, he sounds just like dear old Mrs K. on a roll in the marital hay! I kid you not! OMG, I swear he sounds exactly like her riding the horse to the finish line :-D
Oh, this is a terrible story - but it's too true & had to be told :-D
Now I don't have to fear that Mrs K. will ever come across this little piece of information, lost touch with the family years ago (although I can find assorted members on Facebook, and my-oh-my have they grown up!!). But if she would read this (or any of the au pairs moving in before and after me - I doubt she started all this when I was there, or that she stopped when I left, LOL), I'm telling you, she doesn't need to meet my beautiful Baby Boy - she would know exactly what the little tyke sounds like on his exploring missions around the house ;-)
P.S. to perverts! Don't even go there! This only clicked a week ago! Little old attic trapdoor in my brain, much like playing Trivial Pursuit; Mrs. K. has not been ringing in my ear ever since way back when!
update
I slept magnificently last night!
A solid 8 hours: 9 to 5 - like a civil servant on the night-shift!
I felt so much on top of the world this morning, I even cut my finger nails!
I knew you wanted to know!
;-)
A solid 8 hours: 9 to 5 - like a civil servant on the night-shift!
I felt so much on top of the world this morning, I even cut my finger nails!
I knew you wanted to know!
;-)
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
all about nothing
... she is trying to wrestle the knive away from the movie star she fantasizes about - who is possibly invisible, probably imaginary - trying to stop him from killing himself because he thinks that might wake him from the coma he is apparently in, lying in a hospital in New Zealand. Still following? Next shot is her brother, seeing only her (and obviously not the suicidal idol), standing there like a desperate housewife wielding a knive into thin air, in the kitchen of her English suburban home... A scene from 'Bonkers', British dramatic comedy, if that's a genre.
I laughed so hard I nearly cried, and it's probably not even a case of "I guess you had to be there"! It's because I'm so tired, I could fall asleep onto the keyboard! Baby Boy keeping me up all hours as included in the copy of Baby's Rights he came with? No, can't even claim that for pity! It was little old me trying to deconstruct the secrets of Sleep. Okay, it was a little too warm in the bedroom last night, that too. But I was lying there, and every single time I started drifting off, my thoughts becoming more disintegrated, I was wondering "is this it? Am I falling asleep now?" - focussing my thoughts again, drifting right back up into consciousness again... That went on till around 01.30. I woke at 05.30 this morning - and that was it. Baby Boy needed attention at this unusual hour, so I got up and - sort of - stayed up. Till I just laughed my head off at something normally probably mildly amusing, signalling it's High Time to go find that bale of hay again and hope for better nights...
It's something like the fact that I have been thinking for the past two weeks I really need to cut my fingernails. And I still haven't. Because I keep on thinking it's a waste of precious time, clipping nails. It's like that. And also, it's something completely different...
Bed! ...bed...
I laughed so hard I nearly cried, and it's probably not even a case of "I guess you had to be there"! It's because I'm so tired, I could fall asleep onto the keyboard! Baby Boy keeping me up all hours as included in the copy of Baby's Rights he came with? No, can't even claim that for pity! It was little old me trying to deconstruct the secrets of Sleep. Okay, it was a little too warm in the bedroom last night, that too. But I was lying there, and every single time I started drifting off, my thoughts becoming more disintegrated, I was wondering "is this it? Am I falling asleep now?" - focussing my thoughts again, drifting right back up into consciousness again... That went on till around 01.30. I woke at 05.30 this morning - and that was it. Baby Boy needed attention at this unusual hour, so I got up and - sort of - stayed up. Till I just laughed my head off at something normally probably mildly amusing, signalling it's High Time to go find that bale of hay again and hope for better nights...
It's something like the fact that I have been thinking for the past two weeks I really need to cut my fingernails. And I still haven't. Because I keep on thinking it's a waste of precious time, clipping nails. It's like that. And also, it's something completely different...
Bed! ...bed...
Monday, August 3, 2009
chicken
Ah & oh, internet. It's amazing what you can find - pretty much anything you're looking for bar a freshly-made cup of coffee. And I spend a lot of time looking for... stuff. Finding a lot of... stuff - absolute gems at times! But there's a sting in this particular tail: the danger of being creative only vicariously!
Obviously - even for me these days, with my busy-being-a-mamma-life - there are only so many hours in a day; and stupid but what can you do, when I spend a lot of my sparse spare time looking at what other people write and create, I don't have much time left to do my own art-ish-tics.
But there is another reason why it's not a great idea to spend too much time looking at other people's blogs : it's so bloody intimidating!!
Being me, I forget I click away from many more pages than ever end up in my favourites folder, but still! Some people - a lot of people, the web being world wide & all - have such a way with words!, with paper, scissors & glue!, with their camera!, with needle and thread! & so on, & so on...
So here I am, with this blog that I'm too scared to publish to people. Yet.
And here are a few pictures of what I got up to this weekend. For the tiny audience out there. So far. Hope at least all of you two like my effort ;-)
Wicker baskets - last year's "Christmas Goodies" came in one of those, but since there are always people who don't really want or need what they get, Man scored two more from colleagues!
Now I didn't really like the natural-cotton-look, especially considering the newest member of this little household: something white-ish with a baby growing rapidly into a little explorer... somehow doesn't strike me as the brightest choice in colour scheme ;-) So I declared one of them 'mine' and covered it in pink (!!),
and the other two can be Baby Boy's - you can't start too early pointing out where the toys should go (hey, a mother can hope!)!
Obviously - even for me these days, with my busy-being-a-mamma-life - there are only so many hours in a day; and stupid but what can you do, when I spend a lot of my sparse spare time looking at what other people write and create, I don't have much time left to do my own art-ish-tics.
But there is another reason why it's not a great idea to spend too much time looking at other people's blogs : it's so bloody intimidating!!
Being me, I forget I click away from many more pages than ever end up in my favourites folder, but still! Some people - a lot of people, the web being world wide & all - have such a way with words!, with paper, scissors & glue!, with their camera!, with needle and thread! & so on, & so on...
So here I am, with this blog that I'm too scared to publish to people. Yet.
And here are a few pictures of what I got up to this weekend. For the tiny audience out there. So far. Hope at least all of you two like my effort ;-)
Wicker baskets - last year's "Christmas Goodies" came in one of those, but since there are always people who don't really want or need what they get, Man scored two more from colleagues!
Now I didn't really like the natural-cotton-look, especially considering the newest member of this little household: something white-ish with a baby growing rapidly into a little explorer... somehow doesn't strike me as the brightest choice in colour scheme ;-) So I declared one of them 'mine' and covered it in pink (!!),
and the other two can be Baby Boy's - you can't start too early pointing out where the toys should go (hey, a mother can hope!)!
stroppy
If Baby Boy is anything like Mamma... he's going to know way better what he doesn't want (oh, consider the Happy Hours ahead!) than what he does want... Oh crap... Oh crap!
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