Category Archives: mum life

My baby has turned 1


It is unbelievable that only a year ago, I gave life to a tiny little baby. He came and changed my life. I have changed as a person because of him. I’m now more patient, I operate on 6 hour sleep, can never afford to be lazy, have a strict daily schedule. I’m tired but I don’t complain, I’m happy.

Now my son is still small in comparison to other babies of his age – he weighs just over 8kg. Yet he isn’t lacking in anything else. He is learning new words every day, he crawls and bum-scoots nicely, cruises along the furniture and is on his way to walking. Almost there. He knows how to have fun and play, but his favourite place in the world is in mummy’s arms. He has 8 teeth, and No. 9 and 10 are halfway out.

Although he is an adorable little angel, when it comes to eating, he can cause me headaches, as he is quite a picky eater, and if I’m not careful about feeding him, he gets anxiety about eating and will refuse to sit in the high chair. There are certain foods that he likes, so at least I know what should work with him. He likes the weirdest foods too, which is probably because of the fact that his taste buds and senses haven’t fully developed yet. For example, green olives is his favourite. Whenever I eat a salad with olives in, he will hover over the salad bowl while I eat and pick them out, and eat them. I also can’t have any sushi without having him whine about wanting some pickled ginger. Raw onions is another favourite. Too bad none of these foods can constitute an actual meal.

He is very good with learning new words and already has quite a broad vocabulary, both in Latvian and English language. That I am very proud of.

Sometimes I think back how small he was as a new born, and I wish I could start over and go back to that little bundle of joy, have a do-over with him to correct the mistakes that I have made within this year. Of course, not possible, and I can only say I’ll ‘ve wiser when I have the next baby, which will be God knows when.

Nevertheless, I’m very happy and proud of myself as a mum, and of my son, and just my family altogether. My heart belongs to them.


Travelling with a baby


It was always a plan to go visit my partner’s parents in the UK, so they can see and experience their grandchild for a month or so. We decided to do that in the offseason when flight tickets would be a bit cheaper and so that he would be relatively older and do better on the plane. Especially considering that I can’t just pop out my boob and feed him because of the breast rejection conundrums.

The journey to UK was a bit of a struggle but not too bad. I was hoping that he would sleep before the flight in the pram, which didn’t happen because the airport environment wasn’t boring enough to sleep. So we had a quite tired baby. Despite that, he was more or less ok during the flight, very patient, we showed him some “In the Night Garden” to distract him, and eventually I even managed to rock him to sleep in my arms.

A family sitting right in front of us was not doing so well – there was a 2 to 3 years old child which was throwing ridiculous tantruns, crying very loudly all the time, fighting his mum, and the mum even slapped him a few times. Hard to watch that was. Also, after visiting the toilet with him once, she refused to take him to toilet again and insisted (loudly) that he pees in his diaper. Several times he shouted at her: “mamma tu kaka!” (Mum you’re shit!). Mother of the year, people! I have no idea how my child was able to sleep through that drama show. A cue what to not turn into with my own child. I really hope my child/me never become like that.

After the flight, the rest of the journey was not too bad, he fell asleep in the pram, waking up only on the train and when we needed to put him into a carseat in a taxi. In the end of the journey I was happy with how patient and good our child is. Through all that he barely had anything to eat either, so bravo, baby, good job!

Now, after six weeks of visiting, the journey back home to Latvia was ahead of us. That meant an hour on the bus, then 15 minutes on a train, then about 20 minutes on another bus to the airport, 2 and a half hours on the plane, and finally, about 15 minute ride in a taxi to out flat building.

This time, not everything went as smoothly. On the first bus ride, it wet all well until 10 minutes before arriving to the train station, as our child threw up all over himself and his clothes, including, his snowsuit. He had eaten right before leaving home. I needed to go to the train station’s toilets to find a changing room and clean him up, put new clean clothes on. As a result, we missed our train. Luckily, we got permission to use our tickets on the next train, which was only half-hour later – not too bad. Train journey went well, it was only a short one. On the bus to the airport he was fussy but the Night Garden helped and we arrived successfully. After checking in our suitcases, I decided to feed him some banana&oats smoothy from a sachet, which he gladly ate.

Going through security was a bit frantic, as the lines there were rediculously long and our plane had started boarding early, but it all ended well, as everybody from our flight were called in to go through first.

As we were handing over our pram to the staff, seconds before getting on the actual plane, guess what – my sweet little child, who was all playful just minutes ago, threw up again. It even went in my hair a bit, even though I had braided it, so it wouldn’t be in the way while travelling. This time the child was wearing a warm hoody jacket, which we took off, shoved it in the little storage bag under the pram, and the kind people of airport took the pram away.

With our baby snuggled in a blanket, mildly smelling of puke, we got on the plane. Beginning – not too bad, baby was still in relatively good spirits, but got more and more restless and cranky because now he was both hungry and tired. After sipping some water, he threw up – again. Only this time it was just a bit of water that came up, and we were prepared, with a small towel handy to clean up any mess. We had some of my breastmilk with us in thermal bags, hoping it would still be relatively warm, but no, it had gone cold, baby didn’t want it. Good thing we also had a bottle of ready made formula, so we asked the staff for help, got a cup of hot water to warm it up, poured it into a bottle and – praise Jesus – the baby drank it and slipped into a relieved sleep. A sigh of relief from us too.

He woke up a couple times, crying because of being uncomfortable, but after this point, the rest of the journey was fine.

On the taxi journey he was awake and in a good mood, so we finally arrived home, which we missed so very much! It was about 4am Latvian time when baby finally could go to sleep in his own bed.

Each of the filghts were a bit crazy, each in its own way, stressful for both the baby and parents. Going places, near or far, are not easy for us, so I envy the parents who do it all the time like it’s a no big deal. However, things could be much worse. Me and my partner listened to a podcast by Yoga Girl called Flight From Hell – that sounded pretty hilarious and aweful. I think we could be classified as easy travellers after hearing that podcast.

My son is 10 months old


The last few posts have been rants and whining about how everything is bad and how I’m struggling. Today, nope, no complaining. 😋 Sure, life is hard with no spare time and insufficient sleep but it’s normal for me now.

I’ve been keeping a small diary of my son’s accomplishments and milestones. I write in there from time to time, whenever he has learned something new, such as rolling over or uttering new sounds. Usually it’s about two, three paragraphs. Two days ago I started writing and ended up filling in about six pages! He has had such a development leap in the last month, from small things to big. He is sliding on his tummy, and partly crawling properly on his hands and knees, he can stand up by holding on to furniture, he has learned to wave to people, he is saying “doggie” whenever he sees the dog, and so on, and so on. His eating has changed from eating blended foods to pretty much wanting to feed himself by hands and having chewable pieces of food, despite not having any molars. He is very picky about the food though, and we have to figure out every time what to give him so that he would actually eat – more than a few bites. It’s especially challenging when he’s teething. But it is what it is and I also have to remember not to give him feeding anxiety and not to force anything on him. If he only wants three teaspoons of food and then is done, then he’s done. 🙄 relax and take it easy!

We have been potty training him for about two months now and luckily he is very good with the potty and knows what to do with it and does it. I was a bit worried initially about him not liking it so I was careful, again, not to give him any anxiety about the process, but everything went really well. I expect that in about 6 months time we will either be out of nappies or transitioning to wearing pants at least.

Overall I’m very proud of my baby, he is my sunshine, always happy and smiley. I’ve managed to go to mummy exercise classes with him and he is basically just an angel there. Every single person who has seen him there has admired how peaceful, happy and independent he is during the class, just chilling on his own, not crying or fussing. I’m so grateful to have such a chill and patient child.

A tired mummy


I don’t want to get up today. That’s what I admitted to myself this morning and instantly teared up – a lot of emotion has been piling up that I haven’t even had the time and luxury to feel lately.

Because of a back injury reminding of itself, my partner hasn’t been able to do pretty much anything around the house or with the baby. He’s been on bed rest on and off for around three weeks now. On and off – because he has tried doing things before he’s recovered out of wanting to help and being stubborn. And that’s set everything back every time.

So, I basically have had to do 99% everything. Plus the little one has been teething – the 4 top front teeth all coming out at once. That means extra fussiness, no appetite whatsoever and consequently being even fussier because of not eating well. Every day has been a race and a fight, which doesn’t even stop when the baby has gone to bed at 8pm. No, I still have to prepare everything for the next day, pump and tidy up. By the time I’m finished, the baby’s first night feed is up, and only after that I can go to sleep too. And even at night – I wake up several times to calm the baby when he starts to cry because of a bad dream, have to find and give him the dummy that he lost (most often it’s under the bed), put him in a normal sleeping position when he has tossed and turned himself into something nearly impossible, as well as feed him.

Up to now, I’ve tried to suck it up, be strong, think about how it will be ok once my partner recovers and how I will rest once that happens and he can do everything for a day or two. In reality, that probably won’t happen! I’m tired and exhausted. I feel guilty for not spending time with my son, playing with him and using TV as a nanny a lot when he definitely shouldn’t even be watching TV at this age. But thank God for “In the Nigut Garden” show!

I wish I could just for a day sleep as long as I want, wake up and not do anything all day, and have warm, healthy meals appearing out of nowhere throughout the day!

Ugh, enough now, time to get my sh** together and get on with the day. I can do it!