Sven

Plötsligt talar alla om Sven.

I relation till vädret. I Sverige. Jag frågade mig: Vem fan är denna Sven?
Är detta ett internt svenskt skämt? Har man kommit fram till att gud heter Sven? What??? Dog lite av nyfikenhet.

Sen visar det sig att en storm hette Sven. Va? Döper man oväder i Sverige? Så man kan säga att ja, det var Sven som välte altanbordet. Jaja håhåjaja.

Enligt utsago hette stormen Bodil när hen var i Danmark. HEN.

Överväldigad av svenskhet.

Känner nästan för att debattera pappaledighet och nyfeminism här I svärföräldrarnas vardagsrum I Batemans Bay, Down Under.

Men ingen nappar. De liksom ser ut att inte fatta vad jag talar om.

Sven? Bodil? Hen? Pappaledighet?

Have a cup of tea love. There you go.

Det blir lagom.

Gone Walkabout

So Blogger decided to lock me out. Suddenly password no good. Would not let me sign in via phone. Then laptop was malfunctioning. Laptop really is scheduled for retirement. Has been for years, even though I (the most technologically challenged person you are ever likely to come across) still sort of think it is new. Ish. A modest four years old.

Anyway. Decided to try again today. Was all like, have so much to write about! Would be great to have a blog! Oh! I doooo have a blog!

Have been very busy, ladies and gentlemen. In short summary we are no longer in Byron Bay. Decided to pack up life - cram it into the smallest room in the house (manland) and rent the rest out whilst we go walkabout.

Not something most people do when just had baby. But have always been bad at staying put. Stayed put for so long waiting for said baby. Now she is here, it's time to show her a little bit of the world. House will still be there when we want to come back. We hope.

Funny story there actually. Had somehow managed to push the door to manland shut and turned the key - squeezeed rest of worldly possessions (including baby stuff) into commodore and hit the road. All was well and good.

Got to Bellingen. All was well and good.

Then heard of massive hail storm which had passed through Byron hours after we left. Some damage to house. And garden. In a way happy didn't have to see it. Hubby has handyman lined up to sort out emergencies.

Honestly. Might be better to sell house and live permanently on houseboat in Brunswick (actual idea) or in winnebago (unlikely).

The Jungle

Got someone in to sort out the spider jungle (the front yard). Nick. And his underling, Nick. Today Nick brought a third dude to help, Nick.
The Nicks. Go figure.

Rubbish?

Look what I picked up from the side of the street! Am not ashamed. No, I'm proud. It's recycling.

Vegan Chocolate Mousse

Was all hoysewifey and stuff, thought one hour of sleep is no excuse not to bake, is important to keep up ones qualities and so on.

This... this!!!

1 avocado (large)
2 table spoon raw cacao powder
2 table spoon maple syrup
1 tea spoon rapadura sugar
Blend. Omg.

Wits End and Airport Fail

If you wish to familiarize yourself with the destination "wits end" I can inform you that it is located at the end of a 30 hour trip involving two long haul flights, with a baby in tow.

Specifically it's where you finally get home, shower, and hit the sack. Exhausted.

And bub decides sleeping is for suckers.

It's daytime, in her mind. Yet she's also confused, overstimulated and tired.

Bub has a cry, mom has a cry.

Finally, after three hours of this: bliss.  FIVE hours of sleep ladies and gentlemen. I have so much energy today. Cleaning and sweeping and making plans. Brain is admittedly a little mushy. But you know.

Brain was mush yesterday going through quarantine as well. No less than three people in uniform asked me if I had any food. Most importantly, did we take any food off the aircraft? No. No. No.

Come home and discover three little packets of peanuts inside handbag.

Woops. Is this what is known as a "fail"?

Worried Bub

Bub very worried last night. Achieved record of waking half an hour after falling asleep, then cried like there was no way she could cope with all the world's problems. Poor bub. Took three hours to sort out.

I changed the nappy. For fresh start. Put bub back in cot. Bub looks me straight in the eye and, I swear to god, smiles. Then poops.

I change the nappy. Bub goes back in cot, turns over on her belly, and poops.

I change the nappy.

We play "roll over" for another two hours then bub sleeps. For two hours.

I think all this is an important developmental stage. Bub is simply very intelligent.

Sleep Facts and Sweden

Sleep fact: three hours in a row is better than four spread out over the night. But one solid hour is better than a half hour.

Up throughout night with bub every 90 minutes. First wake at 8.30pm, that is to say - not even I was even in bed at that time. She's going for some kind of new record.

I know. Am harping on about sleep. It's true that parents speak of sleep like a starving person speaks of food.

Of course, keep hearing and reading about babies who sleep from 6 to 6 and such. Who nap for a total of 5 hours per day and still mommy gets concerned when they sleep less. 5 hours. You're fucking kidding me.

A friend had a baby at the same time as me. She seems to have a schedule allowing for bikram yoga and outings to cafes. Hmm. Jealous. Do not deny friend this. It's just that... are our babies actually from different planets?

I think I should be able to get back to yoga when bub is one year old. Hopefully. If all goes well.

We're still in Sweden. Have loved this time with family and friends. Bub travels quite well, am not concerned about jet lag. Doesn't sleep anyway etcetera.

Have one week to go. Going to be very sad to leave. But then... I get to spend some time in the Byron paradise so can't complain.

Evil poison?

So bub seemed to get over the jet lag ok, after initially being a bit sore about the fact that we woke her in middle of night-sleep, and it was daylight on top of everything else...
Then has been waking earlier every night. Last night 1am. Like. 1. Am.
In desperation I gave up coffee today. Haven't been having coffee back in oz, at all. But love swedish coffee. And was quite conservative. Maybe two cups a day. Or three.

Amazingly she is now sleeping.

Two hours.

Coffee is evil poison. 

Everything fun is evil poison...

Colour code

Morning 5 am. Third night feed. Firmly swaddle baby and put baby back in cot. Even though there is now the faintest hint of daylight outside and the cockaburras are laughing. My husband is asleep, still I whisper by way of explanation: "he needs to learn how to sleep until 6."

Then. Oh God. SHE. SHEEEEE needs to... you know.

And now I know why baby clothes irritatingly often are pink or blue. It's a code. A failsafe to inform overtired parents of baby's gender.

What's this thing now... oh yeah right. The baby. Pink pj's? Brill, yes yes, a girl. I knew that.

As a mother you begin to see your day as 24 blocks of 60 minutes each.

A few blocks later we are trying for a nap. It's been an hour and a half, four nappy changes (three of which were poos) and countless other tricks.

I should be packing. Tomorrow we go to Sweden!