Tuesday, 9 July 2013

I love (hate) packing.

In a week I’m there. I’ll be spending long hours deciding whether to nap or shop the summer sales…la la la. 

Now back to reality. I have SO much to do this week, it’s like being in an episode of the Amazing Race. There’s the usual stuff, passports, medication check in case they don’t make Corenza, itinerary mailed to everyone I know just in case I don’t come back and they need to launch a search and rescue mission, little plastic bottles to decant products into, suitcase lock, check to see whether hotel has hair dryer, you get the picture…

But then there’s also ALL of baby D’s stuff to organize. Food for a week, calculating how many frozen blocks I’ll need per day, are their enough Panado drops? Does he have enough winter clothing, cause you know it’s going to snow while I’m away. He’ll be at granny’s so transport for the nanny, food for the nanny, a note to the nanny reminding her that he must have a nap every day when I’m away. Brief to my husband about heating food, no standing in the bath (the baby not him), routine, read to him, play with him, hug him LOTS and LOTS more than usual because I'm away :( Lol. 

I’m tired. BUT I’m EXCITED! Yays!

Saturday, 6 July 2013

I'm going to Spain

8 months (and a bit) ago I had a baby. Some days it feels like yesterday and others it feels like 100 years ago. 

I always knew I wanted to be the type of mom that spends time with her kids (kid). I never dreamed about night nurses, baby sitters, leaving them with granny for days and all the other survival methods. In fact it didn't come naturally to me to leave him with anyone, or to be away from him for hours and hours. It still doesn't. I just love this little guy and I love being with him.

But there is another side to this whole thing. There are mornings when I've been up at 1am, 3am, 4am, 6am. And those days land up being the days that I am not my best self. Red eyes and a pale face is my complete personality failure look. Getting no sleep is like being in the army I've decided. And you've gotta go through the trenches of teething to really know what I mean.

Then my dad told me he was going to Spain. My tummy did a little flip. I've loved the idea of going to this country for a very, very long time. I dreamed about visiting Gaudi's Sagrada Família since studying Architecture back in the day. Obviously my first thought was, um no you have a small baby. Then it started haunting me, this idea that I have the opportunity to go with. I have the opportunity to see this place in this lifetime. I've dedicated most of my day and ALL of my energy to my little dude for 8 months, haven't had one night off. So I booked to go.

Guilt. What a stupid emotion, but one that mothers are way too familiar with. If you let it, guilt will enter every moment of motherhood with questions like are they eating right? Getting enough sleep? I wonder if any other babies have ever bumped their heads? How long did they cry for when I left for work this morning? And these are just the mild ones.

Here's the thing. You can let it eat you, or you can see it for what it is. I do feel guilty for booking a trip away from my baby for a week. I will most likely spend the flight sobbing, forcing the unlucky person next to me to ask for a seat change. I will probably think about him every second and try my best not to show videos and pictures to foreign unsuspecting victims.

I do know this. I am SO looking forward to going. I am so lucky to have a husband that is staying behind. I am ridiculously blessed to have a granny and a nanny to hold a little hand, wipe a little cheek and break all the rules whilst mama is away.


I'm looking forward to finding me again, to eating tapas and drinking wine. Mainly the wine part.