Oh, hello there! I’ve missed you, dear reader..

Apparently I haven’t written anything here for six months:ish. This thing happened called baby, or rather second child syndrome maybe. Going from one child to two felt like going from one child to a school class. Then adding a full time job in to the equation and I get it. I get it why sometimes months fly by and you don’t hear from friends with kids. I felt busy having one but this is a different dimension.

The little boy hasn’t been a big fan of sleeping. During the sleep regression I asked my boss if I could by a little hammock but it still hasn’t been approved :

New sentences that are commonly used in our house nowadays:

– Don’t lick the baby! (To dog)

– Don’t lick the dog! (To baby)

– Don’t lick your shoes! (To toddler)

– Stop blaming grandma for the poop in the corner! (To husband)

The last one may or may not be true.

Anyway, nice to be back. What have you been up to?

The boy of my dreams

He is finally here, the little boy of my dreams. He is absolutely perfect, hairy like a little monkey and farts like an onion infused caveman. The way I like them.

Yesterday he made me very proud by pooping right in to the hands of my husband. I was just thinking to myself, “wow, that’s brave” when my husband undressed him and carried him around naked while I prepared the little bath. First, an innocent fart followed by an “oops” and then he pooped all over my husband who tried to save the situation by holding his hand around babies little butt. The look on someone’s face, when you have your hands covered and full of shit, is priceless. And you just don’t know where to start to save the situation. And it’s so, so painful to laugh when you’ve had a cesarean. But worth it.

The ninth month outfit

I’m not having a lot of options anymore considering I ripped my maternity pants like a true hippo. I have surrendered to tights and I’m proud of it. Who ever invented tights should get the Nobel Peace Price. I’m sure it has kept people from fighting over the years and created peace within women’s minds. Who has the urge to fight when you are wearing comfy clothing? You would be like “naaah, im wearing my eating pants, let’s do brunch instead.” I’m pretty sure people that fight are hungry people in skinny jeans.

So what do you wear when your maternity clothes are getting too small and you only have a few weeks (days…) until the little one arrives..

– Husbands clothes (this might require a big man). You can also borrow someone else’s husband but might be strange.

– Naked – great for all itching. Bad for the working environment. Gotta love maternity leave.

– Wrap yourself in a sheet. Pretend you are an Ancient Greek.

– Leaves, go Adam and Eve style and hope you got some good glue and that it’s warm outside.

Let it all hang out, Bob. I’m with you.

I ate it all

So here I am sitting and eating peanut butter and Nutella straight from the jar. Using the same spoon like a proper rebel. People tend to ask if there is anything I will be missing about being pregnant. Yes! I will miss being an absolute pig and getting away with it.

Does this mean I don’t do these things without a baby in my belly…no, not really but probably less. A lot less actually. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say here. Nowadays I’m searching the fridge and the pantries like a sniffer dog. I know what’s there as I’ve just looked around a few minutes ago but still..I can’t stop.

I eat chocolate cake with both hands, shuffling it in to my mouth like there is no tomorrow.

I will also miss putting everything on my belly and calling it party trick. I do this every day and send my husband a picture like it’s the most amazing thing that ever happened. But I can’t get over having a picnic table with me wherever I go.

Little baby can come now. I ripped all my pants and I have nothing more to wear. I’m expanding and my closet is not.

Do I look good as a watermelon?

Things you don’t say in the third trimester:

– I’m so comfortable!

– Please ask me again if there are two in there.

– I just shaved my bikini line.

– Yeay, I dropped something on the floor!

– Who likes Brie cheese and wine anyway?

– I can’t wait to pee again.

– Leggings are not pants.

– I’m going for a run!

– My body is a wonderland.

– So happy the baby is measuring above the curve. I love big heads.

Feel free to add to the list…

Stranger things in my pants

Getting dressed these days is quiet a challenge specially anything that goes below my waist. I only got four weeks left until baby pops (because that’s what he will do…) out. I could just leave it as I can’t really see this part of my body anyway. And if I can’t see it, it doesn’t exist..according to scientists.

The other day I was wearing a hairband around my wrist. I managed to get myself in to a pair of panty hoses and was super proud until I felt something super tight on my thigh.

The hairband has transferred itself from my wrist to my thigh. It’s a great place to keep it if you don’t want to lose your hairband but tricky to pull out in a meeting when you suddenly want a pony tail.

Yes, I’m naked on the second picture.

Celebrate your pee

When you are an adult (how did that happened?) It’s important to appreciate the small things in life which is easily forgotten. Going to the toilet for example. I would say that’s a pretty cool thing. The body is like “naah, had enough of that” or “too much of this”, “Seriously, another beer? I’m gonna make you suffer”.

Since January we have toilet trained our daughter and it’s been rather interesting. It felt like living on the edge in some kind of adventure movie where you just never know what will come at you every other minute. In one hand a mop and the other a potty and you just repeat “pee?” every second of the waking hour until you think that’s a full sentence. You even greet your husband when he comes out from the bathroom with a “pee, pee?”

The positive thing though is that I get big applause and a high five every time she comes with me to the toilet and I pee. She looks at me with big eyes and when she hears the drops she spins around, yells “yeay” and does a little dance for me. I really enjoy peeing now. I’m so happy someone is happy for me.

Now just need to find someone in the office that does the same thing but they are just not that grateful. Yet.

Happy New Year!

So we entered the year of the pig according to the Chinese calendar. Happy New Year to everyone celebrating the new Lunar Year. This must mean I have a little baby pig in my belly. Is it just me or did this get you hungry?

Who am I kidding.. Everything gets me hungry right now. I just had a breakfast that could feed a few hungry sailors. It included a Mars bar and some tictac mints. I am a freaking dumpster. Do I care? No! I carry a pig. Leave me alone.