Busy

I don't have much time or energy to blog this days. Have started school again and it seems like studying and my energetic daughter is taking up most of my time. I will be having a busy schedule for ten weeks now. After that things will be a bit calmer.

So have patience with me, as I will not be blogging that frequently for a while now. While I'm busy doing other things than blogging, you guys can sit in front of the computer screen in amazement about what a gorgeous daughter I've got. Who will be exactly six months old tomorrow, by the way. I can't believe how time flies!

Good news, but still lots left to do

Several chains of Supermarkets in Sweden (like Hemköp, Netto, City Gross) has decided to not sell endangered fish. Finally!

I just wish that they all would also take responsibility and stop selling non ecological bananas. Considering what the pesticide from non ecological banana farms does to the environment and the people living and working on and by these farms, I think that it should be a given for people to not buy or sell bananas that are not organic and fair trade marked.

Mixed emotions

It felt really strange this morning. First I drank my tea with one hand, while the other one was jiggling a breast milk pump.

Then:
Packed my bag for school. Note book, iPod, wallet, pen, calender. No diapers, tissues, or extra clothing.
Got dressed the way I wanted to. Without caring about comfort, practicalities, or nursing bras.
Left home. Without a pram, harness, or a smiling Noam looking at me.

Spent five hours away from my precious daughter, for the first time.
Missed her like crazy and couldn't stop hugging her when I got back.
But I also felt free. It was nice doing something for myself, by myself.

I guess it's a mixed feeling that is difficult to understand if you haven't been through it yourself. Or maybe not. I don't know. Anyway, after all these emotions Noam and I went to a kind of drop in kindergarden and we both got totally exhausted.

A real girl

Four year old Tove, while watching Noam's hair flowing in the bath:

"Now she looks like a REAL girl"

I guess I was never a real girl, as a kid, considering my parents always kept my hair crew cut.

It's just like the answers you often get when asking kids what the difference is between men and women. They often reply:

"Men drive cars and women clean the house"

It's sad how early our kids are brainwashed in to believing in all these kinds of differences between men/boys and women/girls.

Noam has a crush

Noam has a crush on a guy.

There I was thinking that she would be gay and that I wouldn't have to deal with teenage boys in the future, but it looks like I was wrong. Damn, would have preferred to deal with teenage girls.

Anyway, this boy that she has a crush on does not have a crush on her. He is two weeks older and he more or less ignores her when she is trying to take his clothes off, eat his socks, pull his nose, suck his hands and hit his head.

The poor girl is pulling all kinds of stunts to get his attention, but he doesn't seem impressed.

I'm sure that he soon will realise what a catch she is though.

Fever definitely gone

Noam's fever gone. Definitely gone.

She started moving and chatting with lots of energy at 6 am this morning. Why I bothered setting the alarm this morning I don't know. It's not like Noam would let me oversleep.

Todays philosophical question: Are all babies total nutcases like mine, or is she extra odd?

A peaceful day

Well, if Noam was high yesterday, she was definitely low today. The poor little thing did get a fever. Still handled it much better than I handle fever.

She just talked a bit less and a bit less loud, didn't move as much as usual, didn't demand as much stimulation as normally, and slept more than a normal day.

To sum it up, home was a bit more peaceful than usual.

A mix up at the pediatrician's?

Noam got her second set of vaccinations today. Many kids get a bit sad and ill for a day or two. Not Noam.

I'm suspecting that the nurse injected her with the wrong stuff. Because for the rest of the day Noam behaved like a happy pill with a sugar rush.

I hope she doesn't start demanding to go to the pediatrician's to get high.

About White Wine

My husband received this in a mass e-mail, and I thought it was pretty funny:

Do you have feelings of inadequacy?

Do you suffer from shyness?

Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about White Wine.

White Wine is the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions. White Wine can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything.

You will notice the benefits of White Wine almost immediately and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live.

Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past and you will discover many talents you never knew you had. Stop hiding and start living, with White Wine. White Wine may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use White Wine However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of Strip Poker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister.

WARNING:

The consumption of White Wine may make you think you are whispering when you are not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WARNING:

The consumption of White Wine may cause you to tell your friends over and over again that you love them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WARNING:

The consumption of White Wine may cause you to think you can sing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WARNING:

The consumption of White Wine may lead you to believe that ex-lovers are really dying for you to telephone them at four in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WARNING:

The consumption of White Wine may make you think you can logically converse with members of the opposite sex without spitting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WARNING:

The consumption of White Wine may create the illusion that you are tougher, smarter, faster and better looking than most people

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOW JUST IMAGINE WHAT YOU COULD ACHIEVE WITH RED WINE!!!

Eating porridge with Aunty Frida

This is what Noam looks like when Aunty Frida is feeding her.

Hung over?

Yesterday I had a dear friend over for dinner.
The dear friend brought a nice bottle of wine.
I had half a glass of wine, for the first time in 14 months.
And today I've got the worst head ache!
Is it really possible to get hung over from half a glass of wine??
Can't be...
Must be the barometric pressure.

Nazism not offensive, but a boy named Maria sure is

A blog that I'm reading regularly commented on an article, in one of the Swedish newspapers, about that the rules and regulations on what you are and aren't allowed to name your child is changing. They are becoming a bit less restrictive.

This is good, I think, as you should be allowed to name your child most things, as long as it's not offensive.

But the article still amazed me though. Because what is becoming less restrictive and what is not becoming less restrictive is a bit confusing to me.

You are still not allowed to name a boy a traditional girls name, like Maria. "That could be misleading".

But, these days you ARE allowed to name your child "Nordfront" (The North Front" as most people these days are not connecting that with Nazism, and therefor it is no longer considered offensive. "Also, if you want your child to be connected with Nazism, you have the right to".

Excuse me?! Nazism is apparently okay, but naming your child something that doesn't fit with the gender norms is not!?

Pink little boys

Now it's happened twice - me calling a little boy "she" just because of him wearing pink. Not that it's a big deal, I mean, people say "he" to Noam all the time, and I don't bother correcting them. Who cares?

But the fact that the only reason I assumed that those little boys were little girls was the way they were dressed, makes me a bit embarrassed, annoyed, but also happy.

Embarrassed, because as often as I preach about the importance of killing gender roles and norms, I don't want to make mistakes like that.

Annoyed, because my mistake is not unusual, and it may seem like a minor thing, what color we chose to dress our children in, but it's a minor thing that is a part of a much bigger thing. That bigger thing is how differently boys and girls are raised and treated. That is what annoys me.

Finally I'm happy. Happy, as the fact that I've made the mistake twice, actually means that there is at least two couple of parents out there that choses to ignore that most people think girls should be dressed in pink and boys in blue.

Maybe in a few years time there will be many, many more parents like that, than there is today.

A crappy day

This day has sucked big time!

Took the bus to University to register. Which took forever as I missed the connection bus. And when I finally got to the University the office, where I was supposed to register, was closed.

Took the train back, as the busses seemed to have problems. Just to end up on a train that got stuck on a station for 15 minutes due to some problems.

When I finally got home I was supposed to get something from the freezer. But instead of opening the freezer door I opened the fridge door, above the freezer door, and slammed it straight in to my face.

Fed up I decided to go to an outdoor aerobics class, to release some stress. Of course it started to rain just in time for the class to start.

And on top of all this, I've now got a nasty headache!

My husband the fashion victim

I've realised that my husband is way more concerned about Noam's dressing than I thought.

The other day I dressed Noam in whatever I first could grab. Far from her nicest clothing, but comfortable and practical. I do not care much as my daughter is cute in whatever she wears.

I left home to do some things in town and an hour later I met up with Noam, my husband and a friend of ours at a café. Noam was then wearing something totally different.

"Did she crap on her clothing?" I asked my husband a bit discreet.

"No, I just wanted her to look cool" my husband replied.

And yesterday morning my husband dressed Noam in one of her few pinkish tops. Considering he hates pink I was a bit surprised, but I said nothing. Later, when we were going out, I realised what was going on:

"Maybe Noam should wear her All Stars today" my husband said.

Seems like my husband when he dressed Noam this morning planned her clothing to match her (still way too big) pink All Stars. That is heavy!

(On the picture above Noam is, of course, wearing her All Stars)

No longer for sale

Ok, I've decided to keep her after all. Because even though she drives me mad once in a while, she is just adorable most of the time. Don't you think?

Baby for sale

Does any one want to buy a, at the moment, grumpy child that spits from dawn til dusk. Anyone?

Christian indoctrination

When I was a kid, my favorite story was Disney's "The small one". The story is about a donkey, called "Small One", and his close relationship with a young boy. According to the boy's father "Small One" has to be sold because of old age. In the end "Small One" is sold to Joseph and Mary, to carry pregnant Mary to Bethlehem.

I watched the film this morning, for the first as a grown up. And I forced little Noam to watch it with me. The poor kid did not seem very impressed. Neither did her father.

"What kind if Christian propaganda are you brainwashing our daughter with?" he said.

"But it's a beautiful story" I said, while crying like crazy in the end of the film.

When hearing this story as a kid (had it on a cassette) I cried every time, and obviously nothing has changed. This as, in my world, carrying Jesus mother to Bethlehem doesn't seem as fun for the donkey, as playing with his dear friend, the boy.

I guess that's where I fail with my Christian indoctrination.

I'm happy to leave on those terms

Fredrik Ljungberg is getting 70 millions SEK for leaving West Ham.

I wish my employer would do the same: "Sandra, thanks for the time you've given us, but as we feel that you are no longer doing your job as well as you used to, we will give you 70 millions if you promise to leave straight away".

Too generous

I've been thinking. Maybe I'm a bit too generous publishing photos of Noam for free here on my blog, available for any Tom, DIck and Harry to watch.

I mean, Brad and Angelina got 90 millions SEK for the photos of their newborn babies. And as Noam obviously is cuter we should be able to get the double.

Right?

Parenting shortens your life?

They say that your life is shortened if you don't sleep enough.
I wonder then, how many years shorter does my life become from parenting?

Poop - Noam's first word

What if the first word Noam will learn to say is "poop". Wouldn't be strange considering how often that word is being used around babies.

"Oh, you pooped again!"

"What is that smell, have you pooped?"

"That is a big poop!"

"Do you need to poop?"

"Strange that you haven't pooped today."

And it goes on and on and on...

Why use the seats on the bus when there's a whole floor?

You know those seats on the bus, that you fold down to sit on, and that goes up again when you leave your seat.

Sat on one of those today, on my way home from a friends place. Got up quickly to throw a paper in the bin just a meter away, in front of me.

Then, forgot what kind of seat it was, and sat down without looking. Of course the seat had gone up as soon as I got up, so when I sat down again I ended up on the floor instead of the seat.

Just a bit embarassing.

The trolls have taken my child

Someone has swapped my baby!!

It's true! You can't tell by looking at her, because the baby I've got now looks just like my daughter. But there are a few things that made me realize that the trolls had been here and taken my baby and left a different one in her place.

My baby barely screamed. This one can scream loud!

My baby most of the time slept until eight in the morning. This one seems to think that waking up at half past five is a good idea.

My baby used to be light and easy to carry. This one is heavy!

My baby used to lye still and smile when changing her diapers. This one twists and turns so that it's impossible to get the diaper on properly.

My babies poop didn't really smell. This one's poop sure does smell.

Well, I think I will keep this child even though she has all these strange behaviors. Because even though she makes me freak more often than the one that the trolls took, she also makes me laugh much more.

"The girl in the cafe"

Watched a really good film yesterday called "The girl in the cafe". Dialogue from the movie:

"Why were you in prison?"

"I hurt a man"

"Why did you hurt a man?"

"Because he hurt a child"

"Was it your child?"

"Does it matter who's child it was?"

Women are also born with body hair

A few days ago my sister looked at my legs and said "Didn't you wax your legs recently?" And her face told me her opinion of the length of the hair on my legs.

Ok, yes, it is long. I just haven't gotten round to wax again. I will. But I wish I wouldn't. I wish I could just say "Fuck it!"

But I can't. I am too brainwashed by living 30 years in a world were it is considered okay for men to have hair everywhere, while women are supposed to have no hair, apart from on their head.

It is ridiculous. Hello! It might come as a surprise to some people, but women are also born with it!

Many people, both women and men, claim that it's disgusting when women don't shave their armpits. How can something that we are born with be considered disgusting on a woman but not on a man?! That pisses me off!

And even if I am brainwashed, and therefor shave both armpits and legs, I totally respect the ones that don't, the ones that has the courage to raise above the norms about masculinity and femininity.

Not my day

Not really my day today it seems.

Was sawing this morning. Well, maybe sawing is an overstatement. A button on my shorts was loose, and I fixed it with needle and thread. A few hours later, when I was sitting down with some friends, I felt something pinching me in my lower regions. After a while I put my hand in my shorts to find out what it was. It was a needle, hanging in a thread. I had just left it hanging there, hadn't cut the thread of after sawing this morning. How can someone be that distracted, dizzy, stupid, call it whatever you want.

Later, when I was boiling carrots and potatoes for Noam's pure, I totally forgot that I had something on the stove. When I finally remembered, the only thing left in the pot, was something black on the bottom. Hm, again, call it whatever you want.

Phase or schizophrenia?

My daughter is going through a phase right now. At least if you chose to believe a book that I've got. And I'm choosing to believe it. Because if it's not a phase, then it's probably schizophrenia. So a phase feels better.

Just had a bath on the photo above. Pretty obvious I guess.

Eight hours sleep, WITHOUT INTERRUPTION - luxury

People often ask mothers of infants if they get enough sleep. I've also gotten that question - many times. Funny how much people start caring about your sleeping patterns when you become a parent.

Anyway, I've always answered questions like that by saying that yes, I do get enough sleep, yes, Noam have been sleeping long nights since the start, and yes, she only wakes up to feed and then falls straight back to sleep again.

I've been lucky, I guess. But this morning, when I woke up after eight hours sleep without any interruption (as Noam slept all night), I still realized how much I've missed that. God it felt nice! I felt so alert and happy when I woke up. A true luxury that I had totally forgotten about during the last five months.

(Eight hours sleep, without interruption, means not waking up because of my husband watching TV or working until late, or waking up when he gets to bed, neither waking up from Noam lying in the bed farting and moving around like a helicopter, or waking up to feed).

A fun blog and a bad movie

I've started reading a pretty fun blog and want to share it. It's in Swedish. So those of you that understand Swedish, and want to read something better than the pointless posts in this blog, check it out. The address is: http://spankk.wordpress.com/

Also want to push my sisters blog again. Very entertaining! You can find the address to the right on this page. But I'll write it here too: http://geishaq.blogspot.com/

And finally, I wanted to prove my sister wrong today. She claims that I don't like any romantic comedies or chick lit movies. So I decided to watch the movie "Sex and the City". Thought I would actually enjoy it, as I thought the series was pretty fun, even tough I did not follow it fanatically. Well, unfortunately it seems like my sister is right after all. Had to add "Sex and the City" to the pile of chick lit movies that I didn't enjoy.It was all "on the nose", many scenes and lines seemed a bit forced, and it all felt a bit cheesy.

But despite all of that I managed to cry at least five times. This crying business, inherited from my mother, that both my sister and I have got, is almost embarrassing. Can barely watch an ad on TV without shedding a tear. Sad.

A fun Sunday

Me to Noam with a cheery voice:

"While Dad is in the gym we will eat some sticky potato pure. And after we've cleaned that up we will fold yesterday's laundry. Then, when Dad returns, we will do some very late spring cleaning. Doesn't that sound great?!"

Still with a happy voice. I wonder if Noam managed to see through my fake happiness and excitement about those Sunday tasks.

Noam's first taste of solids - the movie

Well, I was planning on solely posting this film on the blog where I write things about Noam, but I thought I could post it here too.

George Clooney and I

Last night I dreamt that George Clooney was giving me a back massage. I am not even going to try to figure out what made me dream that. But it was very nice. He was really working hard on a muscle knot, on the left side of my back, and I was totally digging it.

"Arn" sucks

Just watched the Swedish film "Arn". Probably the biggest budget ever in Sweden. Based on probably the most known books in Sweden.

It totally sucked! Can't believe that they are actually shooting part two. Who's going to watch it? Don't they have anything better to spend money on?

But at least there was some entertainment, caused by the person who ripped the film. He/she seemed to have done the subtitles with the help of Google translation. Hilarious!

Pissed at "Canada's Next Top Mpdel"

Ended up watching "Canada's Next Top Model" while I was stuck in the sofa breast feeding the other day. What I saw pissed me off!

They were doing a shoot for a mobile phone, and somehow they thought that wearing solely sexy lingerie under an open coat, with the mobile phone in one hand and a dog on a leech in the other hand, outdoors of course, was a good advertisement picture.

In Sweden, sexist advertisement, that has nothing to do with the product being advertised, is not allowed. When advertisement like that happens anyway (because it does unfortunately), anyone can report it, and the company behind the advertisement can be forced to take it down, and, as I've written before, it's also being discusses if companies should also be fined for this.

I guess this is not the case in Canada. What the hell does a half naked woman has to do with mobile phones?!!

Can it get much better?

Last night I decided to get serious. I took a couple of hours and compared all the kindergartens in the area where we live. This as Noam needs to be put in the cue.

The problem was, I thought, that I didn't really prefer any of them. I didn't think that any of them stood out. But I was wrong.

When comparing, I found that basically just next door there is a kindergarden that works a lot with gender issues and equality, a kindergarden that actually won the Stockholm Price of Equality in 2005. Can it get much better than that?!

Of course I had no problem deciding what Noam's (my) first choice of kindergarden is.

The second choice also seemed great as that is a kindergarden focusing on children using two languages, as Noam will be doing.

I must say I was happily surprised when I read about the different kindergartens. Many of them seem brilliant and made me feel pretty exited about Noam joining a kindergarden in the future. Can't of course be sure that theory and practice goes hand in hand, but I'm hoping for the best.

It's true, I'm a geek

You go through quite a few transformations when you become a parent. Been writing about a few of them and will now tell you about one more.

It's the one when you go from a normal, sane person, to a geek. Yes, dear Caroline, you wrote it in a comment on a previous post, and it's true.

Was zapping through channels this evening, and ended up watching a bit of a crappy English program, that claimed that the amount of parents embarrassing to their children has escalated.

It made me think about my own behavior this morning, when I was trying to entertain Noam, by singing some stupid, made up song, while making some odd movements with my arms and legs.

Noam didn't even smile. She just looked at me with a facial expression saying: What the hell is wrong with you?!

The IKEA Syndrome

What is it with IKEA? You go there to get one thing. When you leave, you leave without that one thing, as they didn't have it in stock, but with lots of other things that you didn't plan to buy.

What's the definition of a Swede?

A kid to her Mother at IKEA today:

"Mom, if someone is red in the face, are they really Swedish then?"

I've become one of them

You know how you, before you become a parent, hate prams in groups. Well, no matter how much you try not to, you do become a part of groups like that when you become a parent.

And yesterday, I took the ultimate step. It's impossible to be more of a "pram group person" than I was yesterday.

How? I'll tell you how.

There is something called baby power walk in the area where I live. That means a group of mothers with babies in prams meeting up and then walking together, in speed, and stopping once in a while for some push ups and stuff.

I do realise that it must look totally ridiculous. And it's probably also annoying for certain morning cruisers. But I actually enjoyed it a lot and will be joining in every Friday morning from now on.

Privatizing in areas that should never be privatized

The current government in Sweden seems eager to privatize everything. Now the turn has come to my work area. I work at a so called group home for people with Down Syndrome.

Considering that we are over budget basically every year I get a bit scared thinking of how a private company is supposed to make money by running my work place.

The rent will not change, so, will they move us? That is of course not an option. You don't just move peoples homes.

The costs for materials like office supplies and other stuff is already pretty much as low as it can be. So cutting down there is not a possibility either.

Mine and my colleagues salary could of course be cut. But I'm sure you can understand how I feel about that. Considering I do not work in a well paid area it would be a bad idea to cut salaries any further. That only results in high staff turn overs.

So I'm afraid that they will cut in the amount of staff. The only way this could be possible would be by totally changing the way we work. Which would collide with the rights of the people we are working for. Scary.

Do not support the bus strike

I pay 415 SEK every month to Kommunal, a union that is at the moment having a bus strike in Stockholm and other parts of Sweden. I do not support it!

Okay, certain demands I think are justifiable. And if the strike was only about those I would probably support it. But the strike is also about the bus drivers' pay check. And the fact is that bus drivers make more money than nurses. Nurses that have to spend three years in University, while you can become a bus driver in a heart beat.

And they also make more money than me. But Kommunal is not having a strike on my account. Cant help thinking that it's probably because I work in a female dominated work area, while bus drivers most often are men.

What does the Dad look like?

I'm an idiot. Well we all knew that, but I've proven it again.

Met an acquaintance on the flight home from the North of Sweden last week. She and her girlfriend also recently had a kid with the help of IVF. My acquaintance was the one who was pregnant.

While we were waiting for the flight we spoke about babies (surprise, surprise!). She asked me is I could see my own and my husbands resemblance in Noam. I told her that I could and pointed out what I thought was features from my husband and what was features from me.

Then I asked her the same thing. Yep, I totally forgot that it is totally impossible for two women to both have their resemblance in their baby.

Ok, I guess that was a very "blond moment" but at least it wasn't a very bad thing. It just showed that I actually didn't even reflect over that they were two parents of the same sex.

But then I had my second "blond moment". And this time the mistake was the total opposite. I asked if they knew what the dad looked like.

Yes, I did use the word DAD and I could have bitten my tongue off as soon as I said it.

"Sorry, I didn't mean dad, I meant..." I said apologetic.

"You meant donor", she said.

Yes, that's exactly what I meant. Amazing. There I am thinking that I am so enlightened. And I can't even get that one right. Sad.

Men's age matter

A French study has found that the age of men, when it comes to getting pregnant, matter. When men has reached over 40 years of age, the risk of miscarriage increases to 35 percent.

I think it's nice that it's been proven that the age of men also matters, as there is always so much focus and pressure on women.

When things "go wrong" and the woman is a bit older than the norm, it's been assumed that it's because "something is wrong" with the woman. Now that might change.

Both stress and guilt has easily been put on women when it comes to pregnancy and parenthood. Now maybe the burden of those two will be divided between both sexes.

Need ear plugs

The weather sucks. Therefore Noam and I are doing nothing today. Do not feel like getting wet.

As a result my ears are hurting from my daughters non stop talking.

That's what happens when we're at home. She just doesn't stop talking. Outdoors she's pretty quiet. But at home we are in desperate need of ear plugs.

She is wonderful. But I'm really wishing that she will go to sleep for a while soon. Just so my ears can get some rest.

Back on Facebook

Got back on to Facebook yesterday. Don't know why really. Just felt like it all of the sudden.

But as soon as I got back on, I felt like leaving. Don't know why really. Just felt like it all of the sudden.

Maybe it's the stress of being sent loads of emails from Facebook.

Maybe it's the strange feeling of being observed by strangers. The strangers that see me as a target for advertising, but also all the strangers that are on Facebook and for different reasons end up on my profile.

And on top of that I can't remember half of the people I had added as friends before I left Facebook, and I'm now having a strange feeling of guilt for not adding them as friends now when I'm back on.

I know, I sure seem to be able to care about something totally irrelevant. Probably have way too few things to care about in life. Or just way too much time on my hands now when I'm on maternity leave.

Anyway, now I'm there, on Facebook. So I guess I have to hang in there for at least a few days or so. Just to not seem like a total nutcase. Or at least to not seem like a bigger nutcase than I actually am.

The return of the jeans

In previous posts I have forced you guys to take part in me no longer fitting in my jeans, believing that I would never ever get in to them again, and therefore giving them to my sister.

Well a new era is here! I fit in all my old jeans now. I felt a bit selfish when I realised it and demanded my sister to give up my jeans. But the feeling of selfishness was nothing compared to the feeling of joy when I slipped in to my favorite pair of jeans.

An almost religious moment

The book that I mentioned in my previous post has a photo of me as a baby. When I saw it, it was like looking into Noam's eyes. A really strange feeling. And at the same time a sort of "I now know the meaning of life moment".

Planned to marry a pilot

As I wrote in the previous post, I was visiting my family this week.

When I, at my Mom's place, was looking through some stuff, I found a book about myself, that I made when I was 12.

The last page had the heading "My future". As a twelve years old, I obviously had it all planned.

"When I'm 35 I will be the mother of two children, one boy and one girl. My husband will be a few years older than me and he will be working as a pilot. I will be working as a journalist on TV. But before that I will have worked as a tour guide. I will be travelling a lot".

Well, I did get the tour guide part correct. And I do love travelling.

Will probably never end up on TV, as I now have other dreams in life. But I do enjoy writing, and my husband has forced me to work on a few TV/film productions of his, so maybe I was sort of close in my predictions after all.

Seems like I'm going strong for the two kids plan also. But I'm hoping to be able to have more than two, so with a bit of luck I can prove myself wrong there.

Instead of a pilot a few years older than me I married a struggling artist MORE than a few years older than me. Thank God for breaking a bit of that plan I had set up for myself.

Singing like a crow on amfetamin

Noam and I are up North at the moment. Visiting my family.

To get here we had to take a one hour flight. All well and good, except for one little thing.

My daughter has just left her "I love spitting and talking at the same time" period and entered the period called "I know how to sound like a crazy crow VERY LOUD".

I was honestly a bit embarassed when other flight passangers started looking at my daughter in a strange way after she had been "singing" for half an hour.

Thank God for dummies.

The joy of waxing

Went to wax my legs the other day. Most people find waxing a bit painful. I too used to find it a bit uncomfortable. But since Noam arrived I have actually enjoyed it. It sounds crazy, and it might be. But for me it is a time, a short moment, when someone is taking care of me for a change. It's nice!

Back to blogging

Decided to pick up my blogging again. We'll see how long it will last this time. Can't promise any masterpieces, but I promise to write something short and pointless once in a while.

Bored with blogging

Well, I got bored with Facebook. And now I've gotten bored with blogging.

Don't feel like writing at the moment. Can't come up with anything to write.

So I will be taking a break.

Will send an email to everybody in my address book when I'm back to blogging again. Don't think that it will be any time soon, but who knows...

Black baby and black car same thing

My cousins four year old son said to his pregnant Mum, while passing a black Mother and her baby:

"I also want a black baby"

Mum replied:

"I don't think that's possible, our baby will be white"

Son:

"But I want it to be dark"

Mum:

"Our baby will have the same color as you"

Son:

"But what if we buy a black car then?"

What's the big deal?

Mum and Grandmother in a phone conversation:

Grandmother: I don't know if I should buy a present for Noam now, for when they are coming up North this weekend, or if i should wait until the baptism.

Mum: But didn't Sandra tell you that they are not planning on baptizing Noam?

Grandmother: Yes, she did... But I really want her to be baptized.

So obviously my grandmother thinks that if she just wants it bad enough, it will happen. Could be true considering I felt really guilty when my mum told me the rest of the conversation:

Mum: But would Granddad and You really go to Stockholm just for a baptism?

Grandmother: Of course! We do not have much to look forward to these days you know...

So now I'm considering alternatives to a baptism, like a sort of "welcome-to-the-world-and-this-is-your-name-party". Just not sure if that will satisfy my Grandmother. Or the rest of the family.

My Grandmother is not the only one being disappointed about Noam not being baptized. Conversation with Dad on the fact that Noam is not being baptized:

Dad: Why do you always have to do things differently?

Me: But why do you care, you're the biggest atheist that I know.

Dad: Exactly, and I still had both you and your sister baptized, didn't I?

I don't get it. What's the big deal? But feel free to leave comments on how I'm supposed to ease my feeling of guilt for not letting my grandmother have something to look forward to without letting a priest dipping my daughters head in water.

Noam the giant

Went to the first so called "mothers group" yesterday. We were 10 mothers with babies. The babies were between 6 and 10 weeks old.

Noam was definitely the fattest. Had to ask the peaditricain if a baby can get TOO fat. She calmed me down by saying that babies can't get too fat on breast milk and that it's good that Noam is putting on a lot of weight.

Still I'm not totally convinced, considering she now fits in a dress that my father bought in Thailand and that is supposed to be the size for a 6-9 months old baby. Ok, I realize that Thai people are a bit smaller than us giants in Sweden. And I also realize that the size of the dress is a bit wrong, because it must be too small even for a 6-9 months old from Thailand. But still...

The horror of plastic and packaging

Watched a horrible thing on BBC World News the other day. It was about all the huge amounts of rubbish that end up in our oceans, and later on a beach somewhere.

And it doesn't just end up there. It ends up in the stomach of albatross chicks, as albatrosses confuses plastic, like cigarette lighters e.g. with squid and feeds their chicks with it. Which of course end up killing the chicks.

It's sad what we are doing to this earth and to other species.

I've also been thinking about plastic and rubbish in my own home. I of course do not throw it in the oceans, but it still freaks me out when I look at the amounts of trash that my family produces every day.

And the fact that I have to deal with the recycling every week, as it only takes a week for us to collect loads of plastic packaging, paper, bottles e.g. is scary.

They even package the organic bananas in my store. And even if the product is organic and I recycle the packaging, it sure does add to the carbon footprint.

Need to, at least, talk to my local supermarket and ask them why the need to package organic fruits and vegetable. It makes no sense.

My daughter on speed?

The other day I felt a bit naughty. So I had both coffee and a big piece of a very sweet cake.

I don't drink much coffee. And I don't eat much cake. Which is why I'm thinking that maybe it's not the best for my daughters stomach, as it's not the best for mine, as I'm not that used to it.

But, as I said, a few days ago, I had both.

I felt a bit sick afterwards. Should have had a smaller piece. But at least Noam's stomach seemed to be dealing with it without problems.

The rest of her seemed a bit affected though. The kid stayed awake all day! And then the next day again! She barely slept at all, just nodded off a few times.

So either the coffee and sugar actually did give her some sort of rush, or she has a dealer that provides her with some heavy stuff.

Or she just found her Mum so exiting that she wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

Probably, and hopefully, the last one is most close to the truth. And I don't blame her. I found myself pretty exiting too.

Had to let go

The day before yesterday I had to say goodbye to two of my dearest friends.

I realized that we had grown apart, that we just didn't fit together anymore.

They are just as wonderful as they've always been. I am the one that has changed.

We've been through a lot together. We used to be really close.

But since I got pregnant it just hasn't been the same. It's like we don't fit together anymore.

And when I was told, a few days ago, that I will never be exactly the same as before my pregnancy, I knew that I had to let go.

The exact words I was told were:

"Your hips will never be the same again. Your ass has grown and from now on you will need trousers one size bigger than before getting pregnant".

Well there was no room for one size extra in my two dearest pairs of jeans, so that's why I had to let go.

They left with my sister. I'm sure my sister will take good care of them. But what worries me is that she will never be able to love them the way I loved them.

Why are men more amazing than women doing the same task?

Last week a friend of my husband and her mother visited us. The friend said to me that she had, before arriving to our place, told her Mum about how lucky I am to have a husband like mine.

"Yes, I'm lucky", I said, but had to ask, "Why exactly?", and also couldn't keep myself from thinking, "Isn't he also lucky to have a wife like me?".

"Because he cooks and bakes for you", the friend responded, "Most men don't do that".

She meant well, I think, but the more I think about it, the more annoyed I get. No one says to a man that he is so lucky to have his wife as she cooks for him.

Again: Why are men considered being so amazing if they cook, or clean, or take a lot of interest in their children, while all these things are seen as normal and therefor expected by women.

Note: I do appreciate the fact that my husband cook lovely meals for me ever day. It's not about that. But a question worth thinking about is; does he remember to appreciate the fact that I clean, do laundry, wash up, make the bed...

Lars and the real girl

Watched a great film yesterday called "Lars and the real girl". It was both funny (laughed loud quite a few times) and beautiful. It's about a delusional guy, called Lars, that orders a so called fuck doll online. When it arrives he introduces the doll, as his girlfriend, to his family and the whole town, believing that the doll is actually a real woman. And out of care and concern for Lars the whole town goes along with his delusion.

Safari New European Pizza

Close to where I live there is a pizza place called "Safari New European Pizza". That's hilarious! Almost as funny as "God is Great Beauty Salon".

I am a liar

Being a mother seems to go hand in hand with being an involuntary liar.

As soon as I say something it only takes about 24 hours for it to no longer be true.

Yesterday I said that I'm grateful about getting enough sleep and not being tired at all. Today I'm really tired from not having slept much at all, due to my daughter having stomach ache.

The other day I said that my daughter is awake most of the days, nowadays. The next day she ended up sleeping all day.

A few days ago I said that Noam never cries. The same evening my sister was babysitting Noam while my husband and I was supposed to be watching a dance performance. I'm writing "supposed to", as I only got to see in total about ten minutes of the whole performance. This as Noam started crying from hunger as soon as the first part of the performance started, and again as soon as the second part of the performance started, and a janitor had to come and get me twice for feeding.

So, you get the drift, since I became a mother I also have become a skillful liar.

A message to my Husband and God:

Darling, are you reading my blog, or are we, due to a miracle, entering a new wonderful era in our household?

Since I wrote that thing about the washing up, things have been wonderful at home. My husband has been washing up every day, after dinner.

I'm happy to keep on doing most of the other housework if he cooks and does the dishes every day. That makes things pretty even in that area, I think.

Lord, please let this new behavior that my husband has developed, be here to stay.

My enormous carbon footprint

My carbon footprint has grown huge since Noam arrived: The amount of laundry that I do every week is just ridiculous!

Result

Following is the result and conclusion of the experiment:

At seven o'clock, when 28 hours has passed, my dear husband is forced to do some washing up, as he is cooking dinner and need some of the dirty pots and pans. (He always cook, so I should give him credit for that).

At nine o'clock I decide to start washing up, as most of the washing up now is from the dinner we just had, and therefore my experiment is a bit ruined.

Then, something chocking happens: My husband hear that I start cleaning up in the kitchen, and he says:

"Leave it, I will do it".

He then starts washing up. And even if he, for some strange reason, does not wash up all of the dishes, he has done more than enough to make up for the lunch the previous day.

And when he after that makes me a delicious dessert, I'm not complaining.

Miracles do happen.

An experiment

Executing an experiment at home at the moment. My lovely, but useless at house work, husband, had lunch with a friend yesterday.

When I got home at ten in the evening, he still hadn't done the washing up from that lunch date. And he still hasn't.

Normally, when this happens, I last till maximum the next morning, and then I freak out and do the washing up. Can't stand looking at it, as I'm a bit pedantic, I guess.

Now it's three in the afternoon and I still haven't washed up.

It's hard looking at the messy kitchen, but I'm determent to see how long it takes before my husband decides to wash up.

It has now been 24 hours...

Scary

Watched "60 minutes" the other day. It was about a German guy that had ended up at Guantanamo. Six weeks after he was captured, the CIA had written in their reports that no links were found between the German and Al Qaida. The same information was given to German officials.

Still, this poor guy, was kept at Guantanamo for three and a half more years, for no obvious reason. He claims that he, on top of that, was tortured there. The details given by him is similar to details about torture, given by many other former prisoners.

The scary thing is that this German guy, most likely, is not the only innocent person kept at Guantanmo. This is what happens when people are not given the right to a trial.

My Mum

Part of phone conversation with my Mum after phone conversation with my Dad (see below):

Me: "So I heard that Dad took lots of paternity leave when I was a baby. Were you happy about that?"

Mum: "I did not really have a choice. I couldn't really deny him the right to it, could I? But they were really happy at my job, as I got back to work just in time for everybody else to leave for their summer holidays".

My dad

Part of phone conversation with my Dad the other day:

Dad: "But you do know that I was on paternity leave the same time of length as your mum had maternity leave, when you were a baby?"

Me: "Really? That can't have been common in the 70s. How come you decided that?"

(Asked that question as I know that my dad is neither in to equality or babies).

Dad: "Well, I did not feel like working. And it was summer"

I am a fab Mom!

My husband has always been great at giving me compliments. Amongst other things he claims that I'm beautiful, intelligent, strong, interesting.

Most of the time I tell him that he is either hallucinating or lying. But yesterday, when he, who doesn't even read my blog, said:

"Write on your blog that you are a fabulous mother, because you are" I chose to believe him, because I really wanted it to be true.

I didn't even ask what his definition of a fab Mom is. I just accepted and hoped that Noam, one day, will tell me the same thing.

Makes me furious

The Swedish newspaper DN is writing about big European fishing boats emptying the West African waters. Another example on how the West is swollowing the Earth's resources, while poorer countries are more or less forced to obey.

Makes me furious.

Where is daddy?

Still on the subject "equality within family".

In a posting yesterday I wrote that from a selfish point of view I was happy that my husband is not "taking his 50 %" when it comes to Noam.

I'm sure I wouldn't even be able to write a sentence like that if I was in a situation where my husband took no part at all in the parenthood.

Sadly there are many fathers that are, more or less, totally absent.

A friend of mine, F, has been spending several nights at her friend's place to help out with her newborn twins. Where was the dad then? He was there, but sleeping.

Another friend, A, had to bring some food over to her friend yesterday, as both the friend and her baby was very ill. Where was the dad? He had to go to the gym and then to the pub with some friends.

Amazing... Why do some people have kids at all?

A continuation on the previous post - sort of

As I've written before, I do not really fit in my old clothes. The ones I had before pregnancy are too small. And my pregnancy clothing is too big.

Therefore, at the moment, I'm trying to get around with the few things that do fit, until I know what my knew size is going to be. Those few things that do fit are skirts.

That lead to another problem. Considering I had not waxed my legs in about two months they started itching when wearing tights. And as it is not summer, tights is a necessity when wearing skirt.

So I needed to wax, which I did two days ago.

The point that I want to get to here is that I felt like people were judging me for waxing my legs and be thinking that I should be caring solely for my daughter and not care about hairy legs,

Probably no one was judging me. But the point is that I am just as shaped by the structures and norms as anyone else, which made me feel a bit guilty when I was lying there in the beauty salon, while my husband was walking around the block with Noam.

And probably many people would raise their eyebrows, After all, my sister told me today that some people were judging a woman for asking for a hair brush after giving birth. Compared to that I guess my wax is a huge sin.

It is truly amazing how easily mothers are judged, and how easily fathers get away with most things.

My husband is out partying tonight. No one questions that. I wonder if it would be the same is I wanted to go out partying five weeks after my daughters birth.

I doubt it.

The different roles of the mother and the father

Thinking a lot about the role that society has created for the mother. And the role created for the father.

I love spending time with my daughter. From a selfish point of view I'm almost glad that my husband does not take as much responsibility as I do.

From an intellectual point of view I feel different though. When I think about how much greater society would be (in so many different ways) if we had reached the point were there was equality when it comes to parenthood, I feel different.

The first week or two I was very amazed by biology and how this whole thing of birth and babies work. But I am not a biologist. And now, a few weeks later, I'm starting to see the structures, the social instead of the biological, also in my own situation as a parent.

I decided to talk to my husband about it. This especially after I had read different studies about how feeding is just one of so many different needs that the baby has, just one of so may different things that the baby needs from it's parents.

My husband could be the one doing housework. He could change diapers. He could be carrying Noam a lot more. He could be lifting her up to help her burp if she seems uncomfortable. He could be taking her for a walk in the pram. He could be singing to her. He could be talking to her. And he does all those things. But I do them a lot more.

When I told him this, he still got stuck on the feeding part. And then he starting rabbling on about the fact that it's not really in his nature to sit and talk to a baby, that it's more his thing to play with her.

Funny. Like if it would be my thing. The difference is that I make it my thing, because I know that my daughter needs it.

It all has to do with the fact that a woman is supposed to be the caring and the soft one. A man on the other hand is supposed to be the funny one, the cool one.

And it all has to do with that motherhood is supposed to be this thing that you go in to and totally sacrifice yourself, and no longer care about anything else than the child. There is nothing like that when it comes to the way people look at fatherhood.

A mother caring for her child is average. A father caring is wonderful.

This all has to do with the patriarchal society that we live in. It's all one part of the big puzzle, and that is the reason why change would benefit women.

But change would also be good for men. Not only because of the fact that an equal society is a better society for all parties, but also because men are actually losing out.

It amazes me that men can't see that. That they do not understand that by not fully taking part, they are missing out on something so wonderful that it can't be described with words.

My daughter the goldfish

They say that goldfishes have no memory. That they can't remember what happened just a second ago. They also say that goldfishes can eat themselves to death as they can't feel that they are full.

My daughter definitely share some characteristics with goldfishes. She eats and five minutes later she wants to eat again. And then again, and then again. It's like if she can't feel that she's full and doesn't remember that she just ate.

And when I think about it, her mouth looks a bit like the mouth on a fish also.

I do not have a Bugaboo

Spend most of the day in the centre of town yesterday. A few things hit me.

1. There are prams everywhere!

2. Everybody has the same brand of pram!

Fascinated by the fact that every second person with a pram, that I met, had this brand of pram in particular, I went online when I got home, to find out what so special about this pram. The brand is called Bugaboo.

Couldn't really figure it out, more than the fact that it was 5000 SEK more expensive than my second hand pram of a brand that not many people have heard of.

Does me, not having a Bugaboo, make me a worse mum than the ones that has got one? I seriously doubt it.

If people buy this Bugaboo pram because it, even though it is much more expensive than my pram, is a good pram that is cheaper than many other prams, than fine. But I am suspecting that that is not the reason.

The main reason is probably trends and commercialism, as I am sure you agree.

Sad.

Noam's suitor

Noam had a visit by a suitor yesterday. Afterwards she told me that she did find him cute, but that she's not making any promises.

The State - a discriminating employer

Men, employed by the State, makes 17 508 SEK more than women in the same position, every year. There are twice as many men compared to women, being "the boss". And men, employed by the state, have safer terms of employment, in comparison with women employed by the State. All this according to the Swedish newspaper DN today.

Starting to feel a bit embarrassed, and pretty angry, as I, myself, is employed by.... the State.

Make more women in the board rooms mandatory

The Swedish newspaper DN is today writing about the fact that the percentage of women in the board rooms is still low. Only 18 percent of the board members in Swedish companies are women. It looks like we've come to "a stand still" as the percentage was the same last year.

Members of the governments opposition is now calling for the State to make it mandatory that there should be more female board members.

I totally agree.

People use excuses like:

Making it mandatory is bad, as the person most suitable for the job should get the job.

I say:

Sure, and it is just as easy finding a woman suitable for the job, as a man suitable for the job, but the nasty structures in society, and in the board rooms, makes sure that the people (most of the time men) that are looking for a candidate, almost always manages to make sure that the most suitable person is a man.

People also say:

Making it mandatory is not the way to go and no woman would want the job as a result of it being mandatory.

I say:

Women would not get the job as a result of it being mandatory. A woman would get the job as a result of being the best candidate. The only difference would be that the person looking for a candidate would not be allowed to discriminate against women, and would therefor have to look further that amongst his 'brothers'.

I also say:

It might not be the best way to go, but it's the way we seem to be forced to go as structures seem very difficult to change. Especially structures that has to do with the patriarchate. By making things mandatory it might also push the structures to change, and when the structures has changed we will no longer need for things to be mandatory.

Until then, dear government, please, start taking discrimination against women seriously and force companies and employers to stop this obvious form of discrimination.

Noam

Noam means "calm" or "pleasure". She sure has brought that and a whole lot more. Think I still don't understand it fully. It still feels a bit unreal. To good to be true. And at the same time it feels like she's been with us forever.

My poor friends

Yesterday my husband scared the shit out of one of my friends, that was visiting, by showing the film from Noam's birth. Really, who, other than the parents, wants to watch a just born baby full of blood and fat.

My husband was clueless though, and this morning he asked: "Was she okay yesterday? She didn't seem to be herself." I told him that my friends "herself" probably got lost in between the birth movie and the questions about prams from a (pregnant) couple that was also visiting.

And today I probably scared the shit out of another friend that was here, by stinking of baby puke and talking about how Noam shat on my husbands foot yesterday.

Guess we're lucky if our friends ever come for a visit again.

There has to be a first time for everything

Today, when mummy, daddy and baby, were on a nice long walk, far away from any place indoors, were it was possible to breast feed, baby decided that that was exactly what was needed.

So mummy almost froze her tits off, sitting on a jetty, breast feeding baby.

And the ducks enjoyed the view.

Easter sucks!

The Easter holiday is so boring. Several days of nothing. I don't celebrate it. And I'm sure no one else does either. Still we all expect that everybody else do celebrate it. Which is why we feel like we're intruding if we call people up or try to fix a date with someone. So we all just sit at home, waiting for the bloody holiday to be over.

This morning, when I heard the church bells, I was seriously considering to pop over for the mass. Just to have something to do. Or to try to figure out if there is actually more to Easter than I think. Or maybe just to see if anyone actually goes to church for Easter. But I didn't go, as I'm sure you've already figured out.

But I'm lying a bit. Because I actually do know ONE person that takes Easter seriously. My mum, that is. She doesn't go to church. But she decorates the house with lots of roosters, chickens, easter witches, yellow stuff, and branches with feathers on. This even though she doesn't even spend Easter at home, as she always celebrate it at her fiancee's parent's place.

"But that is why I decorate the house a week early" she says. "So that I have the time to enjoy it a bit, before we go away over the actual Easter holiday". She's brilliant my mum, a bit kooky, but brilliant.

Now I'm going to dress up Noam as an Easter witch and then ask her to take me to Blåkulla. For those of you that don't know what Blåkulla is, it's the place where, according to old Swedish traditions and beliefs, the witches gathered at Easter. Guess it will be more entertaining than just sitting at home doing nothing.

When did the Olympic Games stop being politic?

Some people say that we shouldn't make the Olympic Games politic. That we should separate the two.

My question is: When did it STOP being politic? Hasn't it always been? Will it not always be?

I think it's brilliant that people are speaking up against all different kinds of crimes against humanity that China is involved in. Weapons in Darfur. Record holders when it comes to the death penalty. Tibet.

And not to forget cruelty against animals.

I think it's great that a boycott of the opening ceremony is being considered.

If Noam could speak...

... the phrase she would use most often would probably be:

"Do you have to kiss me ALL THE TIME?!!"

Pee in a plastic bag

Need to tell a story. It's probably one of those stories that you had to be there to find funny. But I'm telling it anyway.

Were at my sisters the other day. I decided to show Noam my none existing skills on "Guitar Hero".

At the same time Noam decided that she needed a change of diapers. So my sister and my mum took care of it, while I was providing a guitar solo.

They laid out a blanket and then a towel on top. I told them to also use a plastic bag, as Noam has the habit of peeing while being changed on.

I meant, of course, for the plastic bag to be put under the towel, to save the blanket, just in case. But my dear mother and sister misunderstood and put the plastic bag on top of the towel, right under Noam's bottom.

While my sister was wiping Noam's bottom, her hand got soaked, and she thought to herself:

"Strange, those baby wipes are very wet."

Just to realize that it wasn't the baby wipes that were full of liquid. It was the plastic bag that had collected a small lake of Noam's pee.

I laughed so much that my wound, from the cesarian, hurt really bad. But it was worth every bit of pain.

Where do the days go?

Where do the days go?

I wake up. I do some breast feeding. Change some diapers. Dress Noam. Have a shower. Dress myself. Feeding. Have breakfast. Some feeding again. Change diapers. Cuddle with Noam. Feeding. Diapers. Cuddle. Just stare at Noam. Feeding. Changing. Cuddle. Feeding. Have dinner. Feeding. Feeding. Diapers. Cuddle. Feeding. Diapers. Dress Noam in her pyjamas. Cuddle.

End of day.

When does the pain stop?

Yesterday I asked a friend (who has a two year old son):

"When will it stop being painful?"

I meant the heart ache, the feeling of being so much in love that it hurts. But I didn't have to explain that, as she knew exactly what I meant. It's such a cliche, but now I know that it's also true.

Her answer was:

"It doesn't stop hurting. It just gets less constant and overwhelming. You get used to it after a while."

Knocked out

Should have married Paul McCartney

I knew it was a mistake marrying my husband. I should, of course, have married Paul McCartney instead. Just to divorce him later and get 300 million SEK (24,3 GBP).

Now Heather Mills is getting that money instead. The least she could do is share some with me, as I was nice enough to let her go get them.

Or actually, she should keep her money. It is good old Paul that should give me some. For no good reason really, more than the fact that I think I could do with some.

Screw natural

Have patience with me. Know I haven't written in several days. Will definitely write tonight or tomorrow. Until then, a short post about (surprise) breast feeding.

To avoid mastitis in the breasts they are supposed to be kept warm. To avoid pain, on the other hand, it's good to "air" the breasts as much as possible. A bit difficult to both keep the breasts warm and "air" them at the same time. "Airing" is also a bit difficult when you're constantly leaking.

This thing about breast feeding sure is a bit scientific and does take a lot of time and practicing. Screw people that call it natural.

But I've found the recipe though. Just stay in bed. Wear no top, but keep the boobs warm by a thick duvet. And make sure to have towels close by for when the leaking starts.

God, my blog must be so boring, to most people, at the moment. Have patience with that too. I will surely be able to write about something else that babies, puke, crap and breasts soon.

I look great!

As I mentioned before, I do not have much to wear, as I've still got a belly that doesn't fit my old trousers, and big boobs that need to be exposed easily. I'm also a bit bruised were the cesarian was done. So, my way of dressing these days could be a bit scary to some people.

Most of the time I'm just wearing a cardigan over my nursing bra, as they are perfect when it's feeding time. But as all my cardigans are a bit small for my present size, I only button them with one button, ending up showing both nursing bra, big belly and the "cesarian area".

With that I either wear a pair of sweat pants with a very lose waist line, or a skirt that doesn't fit around my waist, which is why I button it right under my breasts instead.

Not to forget the stains of breast milk and puke all over these lovely clothes.

And yesterday my mother said, on the phone, after looking at a photo of Noam and I: "Sandra you look so tired. My colleagues think so too. And is your hair going grey? It looked grey in the picture".

Have to tell my husband to do some hard core photo shop work on photos of me, before putting them online to be viewed by my mum.

Living in a bubble

Like I told my wonderful friend Frida, who was here to visit the little miracle yesterday, I'm finding it a bit hard to blog at the moment. I'm living in a bubble right now. In this bubble everything is about Noam and trying to figure out who she is, what my role is, and how I'm supposed to go about it. I'm so "closed off" that I barely watch the news and I'm normally addicted to news.

Frida was nice enough to say that it's nice to see that I'm still the same person. But I do realize that, while finding my place in this new kind of life, I will be a bit overwhelmed, and I will find it difficult to focus on much more than Noam.

I'm hoping though, that in a few weeks, I will be able to think about a few other things than my daughter. Until then I will accept this feeling of being overwhelmed.

Frida brought Noam a gorgeous top. According to Noam's mother it's definitely Noam's style. According to Noam's dad it's not, as it's not red with a Ferrari logo on it. Noam didn't say anything, but I'm sure she'll love it.

Below, a photo of Noam and Auntie Frida. (Frida, hope you're accepting being exposed to the world). In the photo Noam and Frida are discussing the boot camp that Frida is preparing for Noam to attend at the age of two. It will include things like environmental activism and the making of banners.

The bulimic baby

Is it possible for a one week old baby to be bulimic?
Just wondering.
Noam is practicing binge eating and also throws up pretty often.
Seems very suspicious.

Sleeping beauty

The scent of throw up

I'm wearing a new scent. Made up by Noam's throw up. Smells lovely. Seriously. Thinking of taking a patent on the scent and have it produced as perfume. Could easily get 100 Euros per bottle.

Things I didn't know before Noam

Things I know now, that I didn't realize before Noam's arrival:

That I still, after her arrival, can't wear my "normal" clothes. This as I still look like I'm pregnant, now with a belly the size of six or seven months in to pregnancy. Don't know if it's common, or if it has something to do with me having a cesarian and therefor have had my stomach muscles cut off.

That my boobs has grown enormous. Figured they would get big, but not that they would look like if they're about to burst.

That I'm producing so much milk and that it flows without control as soon as Noam starts crying. Sometimes even without crying. Sometimes I get a shower in my own breast milk on the way from bed to the shower. Hope it's good for the skin.

That it doesn't matter how early I go to bed at night, or how long I stay in bed in the morning, I've still never gotten enough sleep. Probably because I sleep "on the edge" waking up from every little sound from Noam.

That I love looking at Noam having a crap, as she then gets this gorgeous smile.

That I love changing diapers on Noam, as she's then wide awake, studying me, which is not that often at the moment.

That my heart aches as soon as Noam is not in the same room as I. Or even, when she's in the same room but in someone else's arms.

That she's the most wonderful and beautiful thing I have ever seen!

My lovely daughter

Well, as the great godmother already has announced in a comment on this blog, Noam has now arrived in to this world.
Many of you have probably also received a mass email while I was in hospital. My husband sent a mass email to random people in my email address book. Many of you that didn't receive it has gotten one from me. Sent it just a few minutes ago. Ad for those of you, whose email addresses I don't have: Here are some pics of my wonderful, sweet, amazing daughter. Will write more later. Now I have to attend to her.

A hung over mother to be

It's strange that you can get hung over from noise pollution and smoke. Or at least I can.

Last night we went out to celebrate the 30th birthday of a friend. This morning I woke up feeling like I had been drinking quite a few drinks, even though I hadn't had a drop of alcohol.

I had a head ache, couldn't get out of bed till half past nine (which is very late for me these days), and it took me till two in the afternoon before I could start doing anything productive.

All this from being in a noisy environment and also from people smoking close by. And this happens even when I'm not pregnant! Although I think that the pregnancy made it a bit worse.

Considering I'm having a baby tomorrow, some people might think I shouldn't have been out partying, but I had a nice time. Hadn't been out in ages, so it was pretty entertaining just to study people. Felt a bit studied (read: stared at) myself though. I guess people are not used to seeing very pregnant women in a club.

Lots of people wanted to have a closer look at my belly, talk to it, and stroke it. Would have ended up pretty rich if I had charged a dollar (or lets say a Euro, as the dollar is not the best currency these days) for every look, talk, and stroke.

Well, got to go now. Have to have dinner before eight, as I'm not allowed to eat anything after that.

My husband in walking on needles. He's so exited that he barely knows what to do with himself. He says he won't be able to sleep tonight. I hope I will be able to anyway.

Sleep or no sleep, about fifteen hours from now, we will both be parents. Strange...

A great blog and a petition

A friend of mine has a brilliant blog. She doesn't write as often as I wish she would, but when she does write, I love reading it. I want to recommend it. The address is: trivialthings.blogspot.com

You can always find a link to her blog here on my blog, to the right. Just as you can find other friends' great blogs and some other links. The reason why I'm writing about the blog "Trivial Things" today, is because of the escalation of violence in Israel and Palestine.

My friend lives there. She chooses to not write about politics in her blog, but in her last post she advised her readers to have a look at another blog, written by an Israeli and a Palestinian, about the situation going on.

So I want to recommend to not only have a look at my friends blog, but to also check out the blog that she's recommending: http://gaza-sderot.blogspot.com/

And why not sign the petition.

Give space on the tube!

I know, saying this, I probably sound like a typical person from Stockholm, or like a grumpy woman, or a bit anal, or all three, but honestly, why can't people let passengers off the tube before squeezing themselves on to the tube?

And why can't people stand on the right side of the escalator, so that there is space for people to walk up and down the escalator on the left side?

Did I just get home from the crowded and rainy city? Take a big guess!

The special baby

My mother said:

"You have to tell your husband to take photos of the baby and send them immediately to me".

I said:

"Of course he will. He realizes how eager you are to see photos of your granddaughter".

My mother replied:

"Well, it's not just me that is eager. The whole of the office is eager, as your baby is a bit special".

Me a bit confused:

"Special?"

My mother:

"Yes, as your baby will be brown..."

Sometimes you just don't know what to say. So I laughed. I know they mean well.

Just like my sister does when she proudly says that she's becoming an aunt to a chocolate baby.

Just like I did when I, about ten years old, said that I was going to have a mixed baby when I grew up.

My mother and her colleagues will be disappointed though, considering all babies, no matter color, come out looking a bit pink and odd (to everybody but the parents of course).

Because even though my husband claims that black babies are cuter than white babies, (as you can see he's not very pc either), I doubt that's true. I think all babies look adorable to their parents, while the look of a new born is a bit confusing to everybody else.

Dizzy anesthesiologist

Had the information meeting at the hospital today. The three hour meeting that I wrote about earlier.

The reason for the three hours was that we were not the only ones there. We were about seven couples that first got to watch a hilarious film about the procedure of the cesarian. Hilarious because the film was like a home movie.

And particularly funny was the scene showing the surgery. The camera was not filming the operation area of course, but was showing how the doctors were working behind the green screen. And to me as a viewer it looked more like the doctors were quickly trying to pack and close a very full suit case, than doing surgery and delivering a baby.

After the film we all, couple by couple, got to meet a doctor, a midwife and an anesthesiologist. Especially the anesthesiologist was very dizzy. So dizzy that it did not make me very happy when she said that I would be meeting her on Monday.

Her dizziness resulted in her forgetting what couples she had and hadn't met, forgetting to write certain things down, claiming that she had already spoken to couples that she hadn't spoken to, and so on.

And the meeting with her was really odd.

Anesthesiologist: Do you have any allergies?

Me: No.

A: Have you had surgery before?

Me: No

A: You are not supposed to eat after twelve the night before surgery. But your husband should have breakfast so that he doesn't faint. Hahahahaha. Well, see you on Monday.

That was about it.

After meeting the anesthesiologist we saw the midwife that just took a blood test and listened to the heart beat of the baby.

And after that we met the doctor that listened to MY heart and lungs.

And now we are supposed to be prepared for Monday...

Swedish Prime Minister on BBC's "Hard Talk"

The Swedish Prime minister, Fredrik Reingfeldt, was being interviewed at BBC's "Hard talk" this morning. And even though I most of the time do not agree with his policies and ideologies, I was pretty proud when he was pin pointing that the rest of the EU and the USA should welcome more refugees from Iraq.

He admitted that the huge amount of refugees from Iraq, that Sweden has welcomed, has strained the country, but that those problems don't mean that we should not welcome more refugees, only that we have to work on making it easier for refugees to get employment and to be integrated.

For the first time ever, I think, I was pretty proud of Fredrik Reinfeldt.

Desperation by the dispenser

Yesterday evening I went to a seminar about equality together with a friend. After the seminar my blood sugar was really low and I needed something to eat right that very moment.

I headed towards the dispenser of sweets and snacks in the tube station. I put the money in to it, I made my choice, and simultaneously I said jokingly to my friend that I would be really annoyed if the bag of nuts, that I had just chosen, would get stuck in the dispenser.

And just as I had said the above, the bag of nuts DID get stuck. I screamed out "NO!".

As I've many times seen young boys throw themselves against the dispensers to get some sweets, I did the same. But the bag of nuts did not move. I tried again. And again. Nothing happened.

My friend, who is also pregnant, tried to help me. So for a short while we must have been a pretty funny sight: Two pregnant women throwing themselves against a dispenser of snacks. We must have looked quite desperate.

The bag of nuts still didn't move. Then, my friend, who obviously had a bit of a clearer head than me, took a look at the small screen on the dispenser, and noticed that it said: "Make your choice again". She told me, and so I did.

Out came TWO bags of nuts, instead of one, and I've definitely never before been so happy about some nuts in a bag.

The date is set

Today we received a letter from the hospital.

On Thursday we're going there for a three hour appointment. They will show us a film, take some blood tests, and talk to us. Don't ask me how that adds up to three hours. They've probably calculated some extra time for me to break down crying or something.

And then, on Monday morning, at seven, the cesarean is scheduled.

I'm pretty scared, but have come to terms with the fact that there is not much I can do about the situation. Noam has decided that this is the way it's supposed to be, so I just have to go along with it.

I mean, I can't decide to just keep her in there. She has to come out sooner or later.

So I will put my head phones on and get through the whole thing with some lovely music in my ears.

All abortions forbidden in Nicaragua

Watched a documentary yesterday, made by Channel Four in the UK, about abortion, or rather the law against abortion, in Nicaragua.

All abortions are forbidden in Nicaragua. Not even when the mothers life is in danger or when the pregnancy is a result from a rape, is abortion allowed.

The force behind the law is, according to the documentary, the Catholic Church. When the reporter asked one of the front figures in the Catholic Church in Nicaragua about how they can justify women dying because of the law against abortion, his answer was in line with:

"Women do not need to die. Claiming that women are dying is just something being used by the pro abortion side. Medicine and technology is so advanced today that no women should be dying from pregnancy."

Easy for him to say. He is not the one dying in labour or while carrying a child. And he is not the one getting very ill or dying from being forced to illegal abortion.

According to the documentary, many of the unwanted pregnancies is a result of the so called macho culture and the fact that men refuses to use a condom. And women are the ones being hurt. Left with a pregnancy even though it could danger their lives, even though they can not afford having a child.

The documentary really saddened me. And disgusted me.

Why are people watching the Eurovision Song Contest?

The Eurovision song contest is a big thing in this country. I can't, for the life of me, understand why.

Yesterday one of many competitions leading up to the final was held. And while my husband and I were making dinner we watched it for fun.

But that's the thing. It's not even fun to watch as a goof. It really sucks!

So I do not understand why it's such a big deal in this country. I know lots of people that watch it, and it's all over TV and newspapers for months. Even established artists participate.

If anyone could tell me what it is that makes the Eurovision song contest such a big thing in Sweden, I would very much appreciate it. Maybe getting tipsy before the show starts is the trick?

Politeness and funny bus drivers - a rarity in Sweden

This morning, when I had breakfast with a friend (who is also pregnant), we mentioned the fact that even though we're heavy as busses, no one offers us a seat on the tube.

My conclusion is that it must be the Swedish mentality. Us Swedes are just not very polite.

Example 1: If I hold the door for someone, there is always someone else charging through before the person I was holding the door for.

Example 2: Swedes rarely say "sorry" when they bump in to you.

We're not nasty people. We're just not very polite when it comes to those kind of things.

But today, when I took the tube after seeing my friend, someone actually offered me a seat. And even though I said "no thank you, I'm getting off two stops from now", it still made me very happy.

Just like it made me happy when I took the bus two days ago and the bus driver joked with every passenger that got on the bus. Because that is also a rare thing in this country.

Need a soda streamer

I have to by a soda streamer!

I've been planning on doing it for so long, and still I haven't gotten round to do it. Buying bottled fizzy water is such a stupid thing, if you're trying to be considerate to the environment. And I do buy a lot of bottled fizzy water.

So, those of you that visit me from time to time, if I haven't bought a soda streamer the next time you come for a visit, give me a kick in the ass, pull my hair, scream at me, or end our friendship. Because this can't go on! How difficult can it be to buy a bloody soda streamer?

Did buy one for a friend last week. So it shouldn't be that difficult getting one for myself.

A friend made my day

A friend made my day today.

She wrote the sweetest thing about me on her blog. It almost made me cry. For those of you that know me well, you know that me crying doesn't mean much, as I cry to most things. But the point is, it made me really happy and moved.

We often forget how easy it is to make friends happy. Or at least I do. I think I pretty much suck at telling friends how much I appreciate them, what wonderful human beings I think they are, and how much I love them.

This friend, who wrote the thing on her blog about me, is much better at that. I guess I have to learn from her. So, from now on, I will try to be better at telling and showing my friends that I appreciate them.

Finally I want to send a huge hug and a thanks to Cosmo girl for making my day. I think you're the greatest!

And for those of you that read Swedish, check out her blog at papegojkex.blogspot.com.

A report

Well, the turning of the baby yesterday did not succeed. And it was one of the worst experiences in my life.

The drug I was given made me feel like my heart was a fast beating drum placed in my head and my throat. I probably panicked, and hyper ventilated, because I couldn't feel my arms and my whole body cramped up.

I was shivering and my legs were moving and kicking constantly. And I was sweating.

All this from the drug and from the inconvenience when they tried to turn the baby. And from the pain. It hurt a bit, and then a lot in certain areas.

Two different doctors was struggling with the task, but Noam refused to turn around. Finally they gave up.

I wanted them to continue. "Go on!", I said. "As long as Noam is fine and not hurting, it doesn't matter if I'm hurting. It's ok, you can continue."

The doctors looked at me and said: "The problem is that we can't ask Noam if she's hurting, as we are sure you understand."

I felt a bit stupid.

The doctors also explained that the procedure is not supposed to hurt a lot, and that they feared that they would harm the placenta, that the placenta would be placed in the areas where I felt pain.

Then they told me that they recommend a cesarian as that is statistically safer for the baby, especially for first time mothers.

I'm glad that they gave me a recommendation. It made the choice easy.

So Noam will be arriving next week, or Monday the week after, by a planned cesarian.

I'm a bit disappointed of course. Was really looking forward to the process of giving birth. And surgery does scare me a bit.

But, I'm sure Noam has very good reason for not turning. And life never happens the way you plan it. So I'm coming to terms with the fact that this is case and I'm looking forward to meeting my daughter.

It's so soon now. Just about a week. Can't believe that I'm becoming a mother.

Been living in a bubble

It's so strange, the feeling you get from working on a production/shoot.

Even though it was only two days this time, yesterday evening, when I got home, it felt like I had been away forever. It felt like I had been abroad. Or lived in a bubble for a while.

This from getting up at five, go to the set, spend the whole day and evening at the set. Then getting home late and crash in to bed. Next morning, same procedure.

This means no news. No talking to family or friends. No actual connection with reality basically.

So, as I said, when I got home last night, I felt like I had been away from home forever.

Today I'm so tired. Which I think is a good thing, as I'm even too tired to be nervous about the visit at the hospital today.

Right now I'm just sitting at home, waiting for the hospital to call, to say that I can come in. I was supposed to call them at seven this morning, which I did, just to get the information that they were full at the moment and that I should wait for them to call, some time during the day, as soon as they had a space for me.

Boring to just sit and wait. But as I'm so tired I wouldn't have been able to do much with this day anyway.

Wish me luck!

Breach birth or Cesarian

As Noam still hasn't turned we had an appointment with a doctor on Friday.

After making sure that Noam still has her butt down and head up he explained the procedure of trying to force her to turn. Even though the doctor said that it shouldn't hurt, it sounded quite terrifying to me. An injection that makes the womb relax with the side effect that the heart starts beating faster. Then trying to turn the baby from the outside by simply "massaging" it. Certain risks, which is why observation for an hour afterwards will be needed. Also a risk that the procedure starts the labour process.

The doctor wanted to do the turning on Monday, as my pregnancy is so far gone. But the doctor found it even more important that my husband could be there, which is why it was scheduled for Wednesday instead, as my husband is totally tied up Monday and Tuesday.

There is a 50 % chance of success. And 50 % chance of failure. If the turning doesn't succeed the doctor said that he assumed I was then willing to schedule a cesarian. I said that I had heard that a breach birth is also an alternative if they find, by scanning/measuring my hips, that I am big enough. He said that yes, that is a possibility if I am very motivated and determined to do it. He said that it would probably make the midwives very exited. At the same time it was obvious that he felt that a cesarian was a better choice.

I asked him about the risks in a breach birth. He said that it is slightly more risky than a cesarian, but that they would of course support me if I chose a birth like that.

I wish she would just turn so that I do not have to make the choice. Not really happy about any of the two alternatives.

So keep your fingers crossed on Wednesday!

She's got hair!

"She's got hair" the midwife said when looking at the screen while doing the ultrasound yesterday.

"Of course she does, considering how hairy my wife is" my husband said.

"She didn't mean hair on the body, you idiot" I said. "Our daughter will not arrive bold in to this world."

"Bitterfittan" about equality

Reading the book "Bitterfittan" at the moment. Not sure how to properly translate the title in to English, so I will not bother. I will just say that the word "bitter" is exactly the same thing in English - "bitter". "Fitta" means "pussy".

Many great points are made in that book. Nothing new, but well worth mentioning, over and over again, is:

How are we supposed to get to an equal society, when we can't even live equally with the ones that we love?

In todays Swedish society, most women do double work. They do paid work and then they go home and do the unpaid house work. This results in many women being tired, stressed, overworked, depressed. If we lived equally, and men took as much responsibility for the children and the housework, then women wouldn't be all that.