and sometimes a little bit silly too :)

Posts tagged ‘parenting’

Shopping in pajamas

Thinking back to my first pregnancy I realise how naive I was. I was young (well… younger than I am today) and I was blissfully unaware of the pain, embarrassment and discomfort that childbirth would introduce into my life.  Don’t get me wrong, I would do it all over again… (Yikes, I’m pregnant so I have to do it again sometime in the near future.) I imagined myself looking groomed and peacefully nursing my little newborn as we enter this new phase of our lives.

Instead I spent 3 days in the hospital with unwashed hair, flashed my bruised boobs at more family than I care to remember while trying to feed my little black hole and basically lived in pajamas at home for about 6 weeks.

Not a pretty picture.

Haunted by a million pictures of myself in pajamas with my baby, I was ecstatic  when I stumbled upon some amazing pajamas – they look like clothes. Soft, beautiful, cool clothing that I can sleep in, walk in, live in. PERFECT.  Happily I pay the inflated price with my deflated credit card. This will come in handy for my period as zombie mom to our second baby.

A few weeks pass. One excessively hot early morning my husband wakes up and asks me nicely whether I could please go buy us bread and eggs for breakfast. He usually does this chore for us, but this morning he just really wasn’t up to it. So seeing as he always does it I felt that I just had to. He asked so nicely. Fine. OK. I need to now shower, dress, drive for 30 seconds and grab the bread and eggs. The store is about 100 meters from our home. Seems like a lot of effort for a tired mom on such a hot and lazy day.

Then I get inspired! I DID buy pajamas that look like clothes. And BONUS I’m currently wearing them. So I brush my hair, put on shoes and off I go.

I arrive at the store and immediately I feel shy. What was I thinking? I’m wearing PAJAMAS. OK no turning back. If I could survive the birth and colic sleep deprivation of my first born I could survive this. So I walk into the store like I own the place.

A lady – dressed to kill – who is in the bread isle looks me up and down. I can feel a deep blush working itself up from my feet. I walk to the eggs. Another lady looks me up and down and smiles. I think ha! Let me just get out of here before the smile turns into hysterical laughter. So I rush to the counter to pay, and of course the bread isle lady beats me to it. I try and look as cool as I possibly can, while feeling like I’m on a stage with a spotlight… in my pajamas. As she leaves, she turns around and says, “I really like your clothes, it looks SO comfortable!” “Thanks”, I say relieved, “They actually feel like pajamas.”

Image source.

WHY? And other random incidents

One of the amusing – sometimes tiring – and very often embarrassing things that my girl does is ask “WHY?” at inopportune moments. These moments seem to arise often at the grocery store. The latest incident happened while I was in the process of unpacking my groceries at the pay point. My little girl was sitting quietly smiling and waving at everybody in line, and then she suddenly asked out loud; “Mommy, why does that man have a nipple on his head?” After I caught my breathe (gasp – I went blood red), had a quick look in the direction where she’s looking at (right behind us) I was at a loss of words. The “nipple” was a large wart on the person in question’s forehead, but I thought discussing his wart might make his embarrassment worse.  So I did something I’m not proud of. Instead of explaining what it was and answering seven more related questions that were bound to arise after the explanation, I bought her a lollipop and let her eat it right then and there.

That incident tops my list of memorable (or rather embarrassing) moments. Another memorable incident involves my husband, but luckily this time we were at home, so at least we could laugh about it. We were busy entertaining, and as soon as I got the chance (in the kitchen), I tried telling my husband about my day, but he was distracted and according to my standards not paying enough attention. So I poked him on the shoulder with my finger. It seems that he was actually paying attention and responded like flash lightning by grabbing my hand and biting it. We were playing of course but imagine our surprise when our little offspring runs from the room (a little bit panicked) screaming – “aaaaaaagggghhhhhhh Daddy is eating Mommy!” At least all the guests sitting in the living room thought it was very, very funny.

Back to the grocery store. This time we were waiting in line, and I guess my girl was getting bored. So my little love bug gave me a rather long, loving hug and declared “Mommy, I love how very soft and squishy you are!”

Yes, I am pregnant, but will definitely be visiting the gym soon after the baby pops.

Mall time. We were browsing through some new clothing at the kiddie section at my favourite store. My daughter was sitting in a push cart eating blueberries and drinking apple juice. She saw a dress she liked and became overly excited about it – darn Italian-use-your-hands-to-express-yourself-heritage – and dropped the blueberries on the floor. I only saw this after I had stepped on most of them and smeared them all over the white tiles. I gallantry tried to pick up the few un-squished ones, only to end up smearing my favourite beige pants with the delicious berry sludge. I grabbed my daughter and left in a hurry while she asked in her outside voice; “Mommy, why are we walking so very, very fast?!”

To get away from the scene of the crime!

Well that at least got me moving, my exercise quota for the day is filled.


As a mom to a busy and creative little preschooler, I find myself distracted… quite often.

At the hairdresser recently I agreed to a haircut that was about 4 inches shorter than I actually wanted. I was admiring the leaning tower of Pisa that my daughter was building with the hairdresser’s curlers. Whoops. The resulting haircut made me look like I’m sporting a lovely wig. Oh well, only 6 months until my hair looks the way I wanted it to.

My husband agreed to put up a picture I wanted on a wall in a specific place. So first he had to remove the existing nail and fill in the hole. Then he leveled it, placed it, and asked me “HERE?!” and I agreed. What I was ACTUALLY doing was being amazed at the fact that my 4 year old was sculpting a cub from clay. And the best is it LOOKED like a cub. The result of this? A picture 1 inch higher than it should be. So I asked for forgiveness and begged hubby to move it again. He sighed. He asked me where. I showed him. He looked disgusted. The new nail should go in roughly 1/10 inch from where the original one was. “It’s the same place” he grumbles. “No its not”, I chirp back. He pulls out the new old nail, fills that hole and places the picture in the correct position. He stares at it for ages (OK it was a minute). “Looks good” he says and walks off. Phew. That wasn’t so bad. Pity about the white filled hole in the not-white-wall above the picture.

Yesterday I went shopping (OK, we went to the hardware store) and was picking doorknobs for my bedroom cupboards when my daughter developed a toilet emergency. So knowing that the closest bathroom is about 100 miles away (FINE…it was 200 meters), I grab knobs, pay and go. Good news: we made it to the toilet in time. Bad news: the overpriced door knobs don’t fit AND I lost the slip. Great.  Another fail feather in my stupid hat.

I don’t know how your day as a parent usually goes, but it turns out that this previously perfectionist pain in the butt  now suffers from serious distraction dementia caused by motherhood. My day rarely goes as planned. BUT when my daughter looks at me like I am a supermom because I saved the day by getting her to the toilet on time, then I must admit, the view from my pedestal looks pretty darn good.

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