What’s in a name


As some of you might have seen I have changed my blog name.

It has been something on my mind for a while, something that I have thought through intensively and finally just decided to dive in, head first.


As parents we bring these tiny fragile humans into the big wide world, these little ones grow and believe with all their hearts we run the world as well as control everything in it.

Little do they know is that behind the “ouchie”-healer, worry-comforter and question-responder facade is a mildly crazy person whose mind runs in overdrive and whose emotions are constantly quivering between guilt, worry, love and sheer confusion.

Then again they are not the most rational or predictable-beings either.

From when you get home with your new bundle of [joy] it’s most parents’ wish that their angel will sleep for more than 2 hours at a time, or even better, sleep through the night. Then the inevitable happens, they sleep for longer than 2 hours. There you are, not sleeping, but thinking;

Are they breathing?

Are they warm enough?  

Are they cold?

Your baby is up every 2 hours on the dot, screaming in agony, wanting to feed,  in need of a to cuddle, needs to be cleaned. Come morning they are perky and fresh, you feel like the earth has spun off its axis and you can’t find solid ground.

Counting hours, minutes, hell even the seconds until bedtime. Then once your child has finally settled in for the night that overwhelming yearning washes over you. You sit by your child’s side staring with infatuated eyes. When you manage to tear yourself away you look at pictures and wish you’d cuddle a bit more.

Your kid is a picky eater. Every gimmick you’ve implemented to sneak in those vegetables has ended in complete and utter annihilation. There is nothing left to do but give in to the only thing your child actually eats. Plain cooked pasta, for lunch and supper, every day. The day you decide to do this, your child eloquently informs you they actually hate pasta. The old 2-week old raisin under the couch, that’s delicious.

Going out is always fun. You have an appointment and want to make sure your child doesn’t need to go potty. After about 2 hours of asking, hell even begging, they promise they don’t have a wee. Just to leave the house and after 5 minutes have a child with such a big wee that their eyes are watering.

Playtime with your child is nourishment for the soul, laughing, watching their little minds grow as they engage in their imaginations. You might even think “I want to spend every minute of my life doing this, it’s perfect, I can have ten more.” At that very moment, mayhem will melodically erupt. Tantrums and airborne toys. You were just joking before, this is more than enough.

As soon as you are in a public place with a screaming child or a tantruming tot, time seems to stand still, every second seems to drag on slower than a snail on a slow stroll. Yet when the same child is being tucked into bed and they say “you are the best mommy in the world, I love you to the moon and back!” you cry because time goes by way too fast.

Defying logic.


Me too.

Welcome to The Parenting Paradox.

Photo:Miles Aldridge

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s