Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child. 

…..said no new parent ever because once they do, they don’t. 

Getting out of the door with your little one can sometimes feel like you have packed for a travel around the world. Twice. Sometimes I feel like packing our house, buy a caravan and forever stay in it. I’ll just bring my entire home wherever we go. 

The other day we went to one of the shopping malls. Yes, one of those again. The ones we have been to 240 times this summer as to been a kazillion degrees and we chose to live in the desert. I unpacked baby, stroller, life etc out of the car. While walking away from the car I felt complete and cool. Like I was born to be a relaxed mum. I had everything under control. I grabbed the car keys from my pocket and in an insanely cool way, I reached the hand over my shoulder and locked the car without even turning around! My 7 months old baby even looked at me and said “cool as ice, mum”. Well, I’m sure she would have if she could speak. 

After shopping we walked our little walk through the parking garage to search for the car. And we found it straight away, which never happens, but the reason why was because it was easy to spot.


This cool mum left the trunk open! Nothing to worry about. I bet it happens all the time… (anyone..?) 

New parents poetry

There is currently a lot of poo in our house. Poo-talk, poo diaper, real poo etc. I guess everything that comes with a new, little human being. There is also a lot of love and poetry in our house. Inspired by poo. I thought I’ll just share some with you.

Cotton candy makes me happy.

I don’t want to change your nappy.

Cotton candy in my hair.

You don’t have anything clean to wear.

Cotton candy – please don’t make us part. 

That was not just a fart.

And this one is written by my husband who is currently in charge of night time poop explosions:

 My little girly twirly doo,

She likes to do a poo,

In the night at half past two.


And that’s me and an actual cotton candy stick. Out and about and left my husband at home with our cute girl and all poo. I’m a good mum. 

My dog hates me

She might not love me as much as she loves the baby. Our deepest conversations since six months back has mostly been me saying  DONT LICK THE BABY five hundred times a day but they just love each other. And my baby probably tastes like sweet potatoe and apple purée most of the time so I can’t blame doggie dog. Baby is tasty. 

I’m telling myself that since I saved her from a life on the streets I have the right to dress her up every now and then. It’s the same logic I use when I tell my husband not to wear sneakers all-the-time. I SAVED YOU! No, I didn’t but yeah, kind of..?!


Actually I have nothing against sneakers. The discussion is more “Please just wear underwear for once”. Not everyone wants to see your ass when you move.