Tag Archives: early motherhood

Gaming parenting


– Let’s go for a walk.

– Mom, it’s 2020! Who does this anymore?!

What we did instead was to play and hang out in Adopt me.

I played the baby and Sofia played the mom. A very good mom to a very spoiled brat. My personality online is the opposite of the one in real life. I wonder what Freud would say about it… Not that I care.

I chose my outfit – urban romantic glamour, in case you need to know. I decorated my room for a budget of 100 Gamedollars.

We had ice cream and pizza with Ramsay – in this precise order. Oh, Heaven!

We spent time on the playground and by the camp fire. I only had 50 gamedollars on my game account and I spent the time of my life. Because it was time spent with my treasure.

Kids grow. So do parents. When was the last time you played with your kid?

Teleworking week 3: view from home


While teleworking, I discovered that routine is queen. Yet, I remember that it is a constitutional monarchy. Dancing and crying and hugging and feeling sad are not under her rule. I can do any or all of that, if I feel like. No permission from the queen-routine required.

At the first walk-around-the-block since this started: « Mom, I have an impression I am walking with a toddler…». I was beyond myself from the sun and air and river view. Never in my life the view of a swimming water rat excited me to levels I never knew. I promise, my child, I’ll grow swiftly back into your mom.

As we cannot go and greet the spring, the way we used to, we turn to art. Thank you Conny Famm for your “State of soul”.

My shopping patterns changed. I cancelled orders. That’s a first for me. Instead, I redirected the money to a local initiative of chefs cooking for hospitals’ staff in the region – Des repas pour les anges gardiens. And in my home country through Diaconia http://www.diaconia.md.

The fight for internal resources – the one and only laptop in the house – ended with a gentlemen agreement.

I “went” to a ballet performance. « LAC » by Jean-Christophe Maillot at Monte Carlo Opera, courtesy of Monaco plus.

I seriously upgraded my emoji use skills. From novice to intermediate. I am still very far from the emoji-master in my house. I’ve got something to aspire to.

We welcomed a new precious member into our family and thank him for reminding us of the gift of life. We wish him a happy and long life! And we promise to be more conscious of what we do to mother Earth and how we treat each other.

Pity and motherhood: do they bond?


I have written on a number of occasions about mothers vulnerability and my own motherhood journey. E.g. https://lovevonbeautyvonlove.wordpress.com/2013/01/31/working-mothers/

I am child-centered parent and I believe this perspective enables an optimum anchoring into my livelihood. Motherhood, and parenthood for that matter, is not only about us. It’s also about that little human being that has questions, doubts, challenges, ups and downs, as many as we do, or even more sometimes.
I believe in sharing experience in a non-judgemental environment. What sadenns me is when it becomes a mere publicity tool for business interests, even if hidden under a noble “healing” promise, which comes with more side effects than health benefits. Or, what’s even worse, usng vulnerabilities for promoting interests of a particular group with clear net gains. Here is one example of what I mean: “Throwing a new mom pity party” by Kate Rope http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kate-rope/throwing-a-new-mom-pity-party_b_5022680.html

When things are tough, going extreme is the least helpful approach. Been there. Done that. It made me search for a middle way between “sickeningly hard” and ” constantly cheeriful”. The door to this path had two keys. One was to look at it through my inner child eyes retrospectively. The second key was to look at my motherhood through my own child’s big eyes.

My childhood was harsh, shadowed by meds my mother’s doctors prescribed, out of best intentions probably, with the knowledge and abilities they had at that time. What they missed was that meds effects went beyound her body and mind, spreading into my mind. I know now why people call me tough.
My child will become a parent one day. Would I like her to feel guilty because of my doctor’ s choice to prescribe heavy medication? Would calling my life with “a wife, kids and a house “the full catastrophe”” (quote from Kate Rope) help her grow into a happy, balanced, generous adult? My answer is No.
This perspective brought a doctor into my life who, when prescribing remedies for me, asks about my relationship with my child, and similarly, when prescribing remedies for my child, asks about her relationship with us, her parents.
What I try to always remember is that we, adults, make choices and these choices impact our kids lives to levels we may not even suspect. I choose not to bond with pity on my parenthood path. I choose to bond with empathy and love.

Working mothers


After having watched the movie „I don’t know how she does it” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSi3LdUrq18 (trailer), on an evening meant to be dull, I was appalled by the shallow view this movie shared.

I had today in front of me a working and breastfeeding mother of a 6 month old. A colleague who drove 250 km to the meetings location in the morning and returned back home in the evening. She did that for three days in a row. She looked dismantled. She worked hard to make a ‘I have it all under control” impression. Her eyes were telling a different story.78773642

I’ve done that. I’ve been in her shoes. In working mothers shoes. “I’ve got it all under control’ was my mask for 2 years. I breastfed at day and at night, I divorced sleep, I worked hard running back and forth to breastfeed, I did conference calls with my baby on my lap, I studied for my second post-graduate degree… My free time was all for my baby and her needs. I had two-minute express showers. I rejoiced when I managed to wax a leg – preferably mine. I put my relationship with my husband on hold. All I read were reports for work and books on babies. I have implanted myself into an emotionally sterile environment.

I had no time to connect with my self and allow myself to feel what I felt. When an additional demand for my time came, I screamed out loud “ cant’ YOU see I am collapsing!?!”. I came to realize  that it was ME who did not want to see the signs my body and soul were posting.

At the hospital, they prepare you for the “do part” of motherhood: how to change diapers, how to bath the baby, how to breastfeed, how to feed you baby… They do not prepare you for the ‘feel part”. What is often forgotten/ignored is the emotional world a mother enters into. It is a world of an extreme joy and superiour excitement. It can be quite overwhelming, at the very same time. It has also scientific explanations: the rise and fall of an entire army of hormones. And you have no control over that. And you do not need to.129301984

The lesson I learned from this experience is that it is fundamental to allow yourself to embrace, accept and acknowledge your emotions. If you want to cry, cry. If you want to laugh, laugh. If you want to shout, shout. If you need a hug, ask for one. Family, friends, support groups, which you find emotionally safe, are one strategy. You may want to keep a diary to pencil your thoughts, feelings, desires. You may want to try meditation when you can spare a minute just for yourself. Yoga or karate classes may work for you. Or maybe painting may fit best your needs to express what you feel. Or just paint your nails in different colours for a rainbow effect!  Anything that helps un-bottling your emotions is welcome. And, do it early in motherhood, even if you are challenged time-wise. With lots of love!