Monday, September 29, 2014

Ode to my extension

Folks, this is it. Ode to my extension. It has to be done. I don't blame you for leaving this blog at this moment, I too find it dreadfully boring reading about someones baby, about how their life has now gotten a meaning and how wonderful everything is.  Mind you, I do not think that my life is first now making sense, in fact, I'm not necessarily sure it does make any sense...but that in itself is another story. And regarding the whole wonderful thing...I can't help but chuckle when I use that word, "wonderful".

Lets get one thing straight before I start the ramble, and this is not because she's bred from me. It is my honest believe that my kid is the most beautiful, funniest, smartest (she's 3 months), amazing baby that has EVER been born. She's also extremely talented, best in the baby-swimming thing, despite being, by far, the youngest. I could even go so far as calling her perfect....And i'm not just saying it cause she's mine....I honestly think this is the case, for real.
While we're on that: Mary, Jesus's mom, is it possible that she was just really loving her kid. She just took it a step further. "Hey'all, my baby is not just the greatest, he's the SON OF GOD. And this is no joke, I didn't even do the sexy..." And then she just kept this mantra going on and in the end people believed her just to shut her up (and no, I haven't read the bible, cause I'm not a big fan of sci fi novels.

Lets sum things up: 

Pregnancy:  Making an extension is a fun process, we all now that. Waiting for extension and becoming a planet is another story. I was told over and over that I should not complain cause my pregnancy was so easy, blablabla. Well, I think I'm allowed to complain and here it goes, being pregnant sucks. It's so boring. What I found to be the hardest part is that you loose complete control over your own body, it doesn't matter if you eat like a holistic guru, you're going to expand. There is no way around it. It's fun, when you stop looking fat and actually look pregnant....and then 4 months of that. I mean.. it gets tired. The part when you start feeling the little monkey inside you...that's also pretty darn great....it also goes on for about 4 months. And at some point it's like "Yeah, ok, we get it you're in there, there is no reason to puncture my liver while you're practicing your kung fu in there". But don't get me wrong, that bit is kinda fun.
The last 2 months of pregnancy.....this joke is getting old. Getting up from the couch takes 15 min..from a sitting position, don't get me started from lying position. This means that 40% of phone calls are missed, 10% of your guests just go home again cause no one answered the door. Picture me on the sofa, trying to get up to answer the door, like a turtle on it's back.  And then you just keep on growing and you know what....then comes the day when you're supposed to get the golden baby in your hands and life starts to have a meaning.......No no, actually, mama's uterus feels so good and cozy, I think I might just stay in here for TWO MORE WEEKS. At that point, I was ready to give her to a passer by, I was actually pissed off at an unborn baby....Not proud to say so, but I was.

Birth: Push it, push it real good. Actually, this was the fun part. It was like going to the battle field. You're insides feel like their being ripped out by mother nature. "There we go girlfriend, this is what happens when you sex it up without the rubber". And this I enjoyed. Maybe cause it didn't take too long, don't think I would have enjoyed it much if it had been going on for days. Probably would have taken a midwife hostage and told her to pull it out or....
I would gladly go through the whole birth thing 10 times if I could skip the pregnancy and afford nannies. Neither is possible, so no worries, not gonna happen.
So after pushing and pushing real good the creature came out, no doubt about it, testing her voice (it worked perfectly) and as a thank you to her 9 months housekeeper, feeder, aka mother, she pooped directly on me, nice!

After: So now we have a body of organs that needs to be taken care of to make a personality. That's kinda basic, making sure that: poop, boob and nap. The three main things of a baby.

So the day after I come home from the hospital I thought to myself: "I shall not make this new comer change my daily routine too dramatically, I shall take the dogs for a walk". After aprox. 10 min of walking...I was out of breath and thought my insides were going places. Wait what...they forgot to tell me that you don't just go back to normal right after.....in fact it takes a loooong time. A week after the big bang and my stomach is still looking like that of a pregnant Inam, I cannot fit my trousers because my boomshakalaca is just a bit to booteylicious. I send my experienced friend a text asking what kind of  sorcery this is, when does my stomach go back to normal. The answer: "3 months"....Excuse me? No, I will not have it. So I started to do exercise 2 weeks post baby.....doesn't help. It doesnt. Don't even bother....My stomach remained for the rest of the summer and it is first now (3 months after) starting too regress to something that resembles a non pregnant stomach. So girlfriends, all those posts of some good looking girls taking pictures of themselves two days post-baby saying something like "Had my little Hazelnut two days ago, almost back to normal" are not the norm. Lets just clear that one out, minority of women can wear a tank top a week after birth. They're the lucky ones...genes...not the norm. They forgot to tell me that, so I was getting depressed wiggling my stomach and thinking of Jelly-O.

Baby: I think we already cleared the whole: My baby is the best one ever to be born.
It's not too bad to have one. I'm not a big fan of babies, never have been. Was kindly told that I wasn't needed anymore that one time I babysat. I don't like babies crying or screaming....still don't and I thank that person that invented the pacifier, every day. Ronja (that's the name of the little one) is pretty well behaved, don't get me wrong, she does cry and scream at times, and my skin itches when she starts. Working on that....patience is not my strongest thing, but it's getting better....I think.
Now about the whole life changing: I don't think my life has changed that dramatically, I mean, of course it has changed but I still do things I like doing...you know, they did cut the cord there at the hospital. And I can just bring Rojo with me doing things I like doing, that way she will like them and then we can do it together.
I think the fun part is starting now....I don't know how fun it is to have a mega small baby. They can't do anything, they're just there, kinda sleeping and it doesn't matter if you stare at them for 4 hours with out blinking, the most exciting thing that could happen is a fart....But now, she got a voice which is used for other than screaming for boobjuice or poopalert, we have conversation and once in a while we listen to JT, cause he's so fine (that's what Ronja thinks, at least (and me)) and Rojo sings along....(she's 3 months).
It's just gonna get more fun, obviously she's meant to do great things: crochet houses, win the world championship in pole fitness, catch the biggest fish ever recorded and blow beautiful glass pieces......no pressure my little one, no pressure.


Over and out, biatses!

Ps. I'm could settle for a scooter instead of a car.
Pps. Baby is crying, I guess that's my cue!
Ppps. False alarm, pacifier needed to be re-inserted, the universe has been saved, once again. 

Thursday, September 25, 2014

In the beginning....

So, yesterday I went to my new knitting club and up came the topic on blogs. Turns out there is this danish lady who has a blog and blogs about her husband among other things. She just quit her day job cause she can live of her blog.....she got a car, just like that, cause she sits down once in a while and writes about stuff she does (or the free things she gets).  And it's not like she's a stunt actress or shark diver...she likes jewelry. I mean really....

So here is my attempt to get a free car. I truly believe my life is so interesting that you all are dying to spare some time to read about it. Especially given the fact that I'm on maternity leave and my days evolve about getting as much boobjuice into the miracle, feeding the dog and the cat and getting some knitting/crocheting done.  Exciting stuff!

Who knows, maybe I'll throw in a picture or two...selfies, since that's the new thing.

What is about those selfies anyway...I'm putting on my pensioner hat now, so bear with me or go and flip through your instagram, #selfies. They bug me to no end. I mean, really....these selfies people spend hours on hours taking their OWN picture; in the bathroom, in the car, on the toilet, in the changing room, in an elevator, on the street, buying nuts, buying milk, in the morning, in the evening, in the middle of the day. I wonder if they have a picture of themselves hanging behind each corner in their own house, cause surely they can't get enough of themselves.

I'll have to admit I have taken a few selfies myself, these times when I wonder if I could ever be model or if I find myself looking exceptionally beautiful.....these selfies usually prove that I probably did choose the right carrier when I chose veterinary medicine over modeling and I guess I'm just more beautiful in the mirror then on a picture....so be it.

Maybe it's a good thing, these selfies, people should be allowed to feel good about themselves. They should feel good about themselves but somehow I get the feeling that selfies are taken by the pretty crowd, you know the once that win prom queen, the once that always smell really good, those with really soft hair...could we call them "the more privileged"? Making the other ones look in the mirror and questioning their own look? Am I off track here? Listen, I'm not saying that taking a picture of yourself once in a while is a bad thing, but jeysus....posting a picture of your very own self every 30 min....we get it, YOU'RE SOO HOT AND YOUR HAIR IS SO FRIGGIN STRAIGHT AND SOFT.

Peace and love to y'all