Sweating Through Summer with a Baby

The 10-minute process of putting on a swimsuit, grabbing a towel and driving to the beach has now become an hour long procedure of packing half the house and chasing a fast-crawling ten month old with a swimming pull up and frilly swimsuit. Oh, and did I mention? Apparently swimming diapers don’t hold pee.

Mummy, why didn’t you do anything?

Baby, you were born in August 2015, at the height of the refugee crisis in Europe. The war in Syria was well into its fifth year and IS militants in their Toyota trucks very well used to ravaging and scarring humanity. In January of that same year, ridden with all day nausea, I dragged myself…

The Messy Truth about Flying with a Baby

Remember the time when the space between seats seemed incongruous to your ever expanding belly or when the person seated next to you could not look more frustrated at your wobbly exit for your tenth toilet trip? If you thought that flying whilst pregnant was particularly inconvenient, well, think again. Compared to flying with a…

Judged Either Way: Mums on Trial

The stress on new mums continues to mount. As a substantial part of the population has made it a point to inundate the rest with the breastfeeding in public debate, one reality is left in the void: Mums who formula-feed in public are pressured too. No one prepares new mums for the probable emotional rollercoaster…

Make Coffee Not War

For the past three years, our home has been The Hague: the renowned City of Peace and Justice, a beacon of hope against unfairness, violence and threats. A plethora of courts dot the city’s skyline, some clothed in impressive architecture as is the Peace Palace, others housed in an eyesore, as is the ex-KPN building….

Wedding Do’s and Don’ts – Part 1 of x

Our wedding is a now a sweet, great, wide-smile-generating, warmth-creating, heart-bursting, ripe on fondness memory. (I can continue with the adjectives but it goes beyond the scope of this post 🙂 ) Whilst the memories are still fresh and the day and its run up not too engulfed with the glittery covering of nostalgia, I…

Eight

Were it not for life, which hit her quite surprisingly and inconveniently, M would have never realized her shrouded existence could lead to something. Anything. As if days had meaning beyond the allotted twenty-four hours. Or that the sun was also rising from the blue for her. Thank you. But M was happy with her…