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!