It’s almost 9 AM and my son B. is still in bed (read: we’ll be late for our fruit smoothie, we’ll have late breakfast, we’ll drink milk later than usual, we’ll go for a shorter walk so as not to be too late with the afternoon nap, we’ll have late lunch, a late afternoon milkshake, late dinner and finally we’ll all go to bed late). Once a proper routine is set, everything’s easier. I’m waking him up, whether he likes it or not. I’m tickling his feet, touching his fingers, his knees and tummy (he’s rolling over onto his stomach), kneading his calves and shins, massaging his arms and his back, blowing air into his ear, whispering, and calling out his name in a low voice. No reaction whatsoever. A change of tactics—reducing the comfort. I’m shaking him gently, asking him to wake up. I’m uncovering him. B. is anything but pleased. He’s yawning and rubbing his eyes. He opens them briefly (they look fatigued), then closes them again. Step two—making some noise: opening and closing the drawers, drumming my fingers on the window sill (rat-a-tat), moving the closet door and rustling the laundry basket. I’m tapping on the window, touching the big dry leaves hanging along the bamboo roll up blinds, making a soft crackling sound. Ring, ring, ring. Honeybun (slightly raising my voice), it’s for you! Didn’t you hear the phone? Pick it up. Mom wants to talk to you.
Still nothing?! Next step—removing the key from the keyhole, putting the key in the keyhole, turning the key. Shake, rattle and bang. Rise and shine, baby! Mmmmmm. He’s pissed off. I see him move his limbs and stretch out. Mmmmmm. More sleep distractions?! Singing. Love me, love me, love me, say you do…Singing on a high tone. Let me fly away with you. He’s on his back. I’m rubbing my nose against his and touching his face with my hair. It tickles him. Love me, love me, love me…He’s smiling, his eyes closed. Still yawning. I’m removing the blanket. May I have your attention please? (talking though my nose) Will the real Slim Shady please stand up? I repeat, will the real Slim Shady please stand up? We’re going to have a problem here.
He’s looking at me and blinking. I stand up, turning my back as if to leave. Several seconds later, B. is up and about. What a remarkable turnaround. He’s staring at the world through a conveniently low window, smiling at the birds, and the trees, pointing at the passersby, mommies and daddies taking their kids to kindergarten, cyclists, postmen doing their rounds on yellow bicycles, cars being parked, cars driving past. While he’s busy watching in amazement, I’m putting on his sleepers and sweatshirt.
B. slips off my lap nervously, heads for the door and dashes into the kitchen. There’s nobody there. He’s used to having his daddy wait for him with the bottle. He’s looking for him everywhere, in the living room, the bathroom, the bedroom. But, daddy’s not there. He throws himself on the floor with a sob of despair. I kneel down, take him in my arms and hold him tight. Daddy’s gone to work, but look what he made us (I’m shaking his bottle). The smoothie is impatiently waiting to be drunk and in a split second, B. forgets about all the sorrows of the world, living joyfully in the moment.
Without further ado, he leaves the kitchen once he’s done and heads for the living room. I turn on the radio: A new cyclone is approaching northwestern Europe; it will cause gale to storm force winds in parts of Germany, the Netherlands and Belgium over the next 24 hours. After looking around for a few seconds, B. notices the balcony door is ajar. He pulls the door toward himself, and steps out. It smells of rain. He immediately spots his Mickey Mouse pinwheel, a gift from my mom, stuck in a flower pot. He knows it spins when blown by the wind or when you move the wheel so he wants me to lift him so that he can touch the curls, that is bang them. He gets a kick out of it. What he seems to have forgotten is that Mickey is hurt. The wind came and took the pin away, so he can’t move his hands now.
B. wants to come closer. He sees something is not right. He’s confusedly staring at me, expecting me to fix it. I’m holding him tight, saying Mickey got a bit tired of spinning in the wind, and thought he might chill out for a change. I let him take him, making sure he doesn’t grab the stick to which the curls are attached. I slowly put him down. Normally, he’d continue his pursuit for a solution (read: my pursuit for his solution) but not this time. With Mickey in one hand, he walks around, touching the tiles, the flower pots, the mat, my flip-flops, the parasol, the drain, the wall, the table and the chairs.
B. is inside again. I step in too and close the door behind me. He’s not thrilled but doesn’t object much. He’s rubbing his eyes. How come? It’s not nap time yet. He grabs my hand and drags me to the kitchen, pointing at his pot. I warm up some milk. We enter the bedroom holding hands. I sit down, putting him in my arms. He drinks it up in the blink of an eye and next thing you know he’s fast asleep. I lay him in his bed and listen to him breathe for a few seconds. I go back to the living room, plop into the armchair, and take a deep breath as I close my eyes. The wind pushes the balcony door open. I get up to shut it for real this time. It’s pouring with rain.
This is truly lovely–takes me back to when my boy was little and we had all the time in the world together.
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Yes, it make you wish you could stop the time.
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Freeze this moment a little bit longer.
Make each sensation a little bit stronger.
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I will. I surely will.
Thank you.
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rest easy
ya baby and you
feel what is feal
neath the sheets
and oer
the windows
and walls!
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John strikes back in his own very unique way.
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yes well you made me smile. jane had pissed me off you know.
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Who’s Jane? What did I miss?
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a rude person on twitter. the gist was she said i will make it difficult to know me. i said who cares! she said you just ramble about nonsense. i thought see you arent worth spitting on!
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Fuck Twitter. Do the blogging.
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i do both. lmao
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I want to be a baby again !
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Let me adopt you.
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Yes! Me and little B will get along just great, im sure 👍
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I’m sure of that.
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Some of my best memories are of when my children were young… and broke our routine. There’s was always a different kind of adventure involved. 😊
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I know, I know…however much we need this routine, it cannot not be broken at times. Can’t blame them.
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I love the way you alternate your style for this vs your more self-driven introspective posts. This is so stream of consciousness.
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It’s because kids are stream of consciousness. Not much planning ahead. Here and now. Perfection, isn’t it?
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It is. There is a beauty to it.
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Every detail in place, even the weather broadcast… Wonderful mother-son time together, so simple but so special.
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Thank you dear. I’m glad you liked it. Hugs.
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I hope you are working on a book, because your writing is so atmospheric, I am right there!
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I’m here for you baby.
Damn, it feels awkward when people compliment me.
‘Nice hair.’
Me: (Thanks) I grew it myself.
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Hahahaha! TAKE IT!
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A lovely look at the life of Bojana! Simply marvelous, descriptive, nostalgic. I’m glad the rain came, at the end; that felt right. Enjoy your day (which is probably now night), my friend. 🙂
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Thank you Tom. You know how much it means to me when you say it.
Way after midnight. I fell asleep and then woke up. Can’t sleep.
Hugs
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Just after 4 pm here. Another long, busy, pleasant work day. Sleep well!
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Oh, hey, did you see I finished your recommended tome? 😏
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Noooooo. Thanks for telling me. Catch up with you later….
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Amazing, beautiful writing.
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Thank you, Mer.
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Ahhh, the memories this brings back ❤️
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Nostalgic, huh?
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So much so! Can’t believe how fast the time flew.
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Shhh, I stopped the time, remember?
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Ohh, that’s right! I’m just gonna sit back and be 42 again. Yeah, that was a good age 😊
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Totally agree.
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Oh mother!mother😊❤
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Oh oh oh…
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❤
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Beautiful account of a sweet morning with a little one.
Sometime we do wish we could stop the clocks and breath in that moment of pure bliss.
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Thanks, Marie. Blissful perfection it is.
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We had a routine that many armies would envy.
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A strict mom, huh?
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I had four by the time the eldest started school. I worked up until I had number three, till eight in the evening. There wasn’t much time for tickling toes and tummies to encourage kids to get out of bed. Enjoy it. You’re privileged 🙂
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I guess I am. You’re my hero, Jane.
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I think women are so much tougher than men. They might be physically stronger, but they don’t have the staying power. Physically, I am a weed, but for the fifteen years that I was pregnant, working, breast-feeding, getting up at night, dealing with school, medical visits, toddlers, I just did it. It would have destroyed a lot of men I can think of 🙂
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They’d get stuck with the first one.
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Give it up for adoption, or give it to their mum.
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For sure.
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Perfectly lovely!
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Thank you.
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Ahhh… precious. I love this post.~Kim
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So glad. Hugs, Kim
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Reblogged this on Die Erste Eslarner Zeitung – Aus und über Eslarn, sowie die bayerisch-tschechische Region!.
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Dankeschön, Michael.
Bist du noch immer wach? 🙂
Soll ich Dir ‘Gute Nacht’ oder ‘Schönen Abend noch’ sagen?
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Halo Bojana! Danke dir.. LOL Ja, es ist ja noch nicht so spät (23.40 h, zudem habe ich vor allem die letzte Zeit eine geänderten Schlaf-Wach-Rhythmus. Wünsche dir einen schönes, erholsames Wochenende! LG Michael
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Gleichfalls (habe Schlafstörung).
Gleichfalls (schönes WE).
Bis bald.
LG
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Oh, tut mir leid. Da bin ich mit meiiner eher ironischen Aussage ja wieder voll ins Fettnäöpen getreten. Sorry! Wenn du hier in dieser Gegend wärst, könntest du durchschlafen, bei dem Ausblick. Ich habe so was wie eine “Espresso-Sucht” entwickelt. Bis bald. LG Michael
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Noch eine Süchtige hier.
Entschuldige dich nie dafür du selbst zu sein (sarkastisch).
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😉
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Hi.I nominate u for the TMI tag. HERE’S THE link https://truthiskef.wordpress.com/2018/02/03/the-tmi-tag/ Since you are the first person to read my post, I hereby officially nominate you for TMI tag ❤❤
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Thank you dear, but I don’t participate in awards any more. No time, I’m afraid. I do appreciate it greatly, though.
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It’s alright dear 😁😁💕
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Hi Bojana, I enjoy your blog so much that I have included you in my Links&Friends page!
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Oh thank you dear. I promise to catch up with yours the moment I grab some more time.
You are amazing!
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I miss those days so much. You really paint a picture
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Thank you. Glad you liked it. We’re really enjoying each other’s company.
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I just love the way you write, everything seems too close, you just take me with the flow!
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And I always love hearing from you, sailor.
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So far so good! Your thoughts are amazing and I have no doubt in this. I personally Never believe mass media or even low standard writeups. You are amazing and thoughtful. Keep it up. Dr Mathew hall , I have a almost free offer just for you. https://goo.gl/qK5ZYZ
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Really enjoyed this..
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Thank you, Paul. I appreciate it.
I really got hooked on you, you know.
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Love this post. There are times I have to stop and slow down. My kids are young but each day they get a little older.
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I know what you mean. I talk about a wish to stop the time all the time.
Thank you for reading.
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Reblogged this on MORALITY PARK.
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Boys will be boys. Enjoy it now, for time passes so quickly and your little boy will have grown up. 😊
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I’ll stop the time then. I won’t let him.
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🙂
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You trying to wake up B is my daughters trying to get me up – at 6 am! I honestly don’t know your struggle of dealing with a sleepyhead. Like, ever. Even when they’re sick they still don’t want a damn nap. I read this, and with the coming storm, the warm milk, the boy who falls back asleep, I feel at peace.
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As you can see, this was written months ago and things ‘slightly’ changed in the meantime. Now he’s waking me up, and I assure you his methods are anything but subtle.
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