23 Levels to Insanity – Leaving the House with Two Toddlers

Plan vs. Reality

I originally planned this post with the title: the seven stages of insanity. Turns out, it takes 23 steps instead. Oops. I might still be dreaming of summer when all you needed to do to leave your house with kids is to put some shoes on them *sigh*.

This literally went down at ours last Sunday, when TMD and me decided that, in the effort of keeping our children healthy, we really needed to go outside, even though weather was miserable. Here I present you with “the 23 stages”:

  1. TMD and TMM (aka “the parents”) decide to leave the house right after lunch, so we can get some fresh air and daylight into the Mimis before they go for their nap. Nice plan, right? When this intention is shared with the Mimis, it is not met with undivided enthusiasm by Mimi #1. The words “stay inside” and “play” might have been uttered. They were ignored.
  2. “The parents” come to the conclusion that raingear is the appropriate thing to wear on that miserable day. Frantic search for the trousers ensues. We find 2 trousers in the size of Mimi #2 and none for Mimi #1. They must be at nursery. Damn. We source some extra insulated ones so TMD decides Mimi #1 does need to take off her leggings before putting them on. This is not met with enthusiasm either.
  3. In a concerted effort, we try to put shoes on their feet. Mimi #2 complies and sits down have her feet put into her shoes. Mimi #1 would (spot the conjunctive) be perfectly able to put the wellies on herself. She doesn’t though. Instead she decides to throw the very dirty wellies (which have been kept out there for a reason) from the staircase into our entrance. Our entrance looks like a freshly ploughed field.
  4. TMM hoovers the entrance with the handhoover since otherwise the mess would just spill into our lounge in no time. Especially as our “entrance” basically is slap bang in our living room.
  5. At the same time TMM (keyword “multitasking”) searches for scarves and hats and puts them over or on the Mimis heads. Since she didn’t pay attention (multitasking again..) Mimi #1s snot (she’s had a cold for four days now) ends up on the scarf. TMM decides to ignore that.
  6. The parents put jackets on the Mimis. And zip them up while walking behind them (a key skill in winter). Also “the parents” manage not to zip into the Mimis chins. Always a bonus.
  7. Mimi #2 grabs hold of her doll’s pram and insists on taking it with her. TMD ushers her out the door into the staircase (note: we have not yet left the house).
  8. Mimi #1 screams because the fit of her hat is not satisfactory due to her ponytail. TMD takes hairband out. Mimi #1 now can’t see much but seems happy.
  9. Mimi #1 decides she needs to take her balance bike along.
  10. Mimi #1 changes her mind and now wants to take her kickboard.
  11. See point 8.
  12. See point 9.
  13. TMD randomly puts on his jacket and shoes and walks out to open the house door. His shoes are even dirtier than Mimi #1’s wellies.
  14. TMM takes broom to quickly clean staircase. We have great neighbours and would like to keep it that way.
  15. TMM realises she needs to put on some clothes too. Takes out random, hopefully warm bits of clothing. Quickly thinks it would be great to wear her beautiful and comfortable Hunter wellies which are in the cellar. Too far away. Wears her 10 year old non-descript trekking shoes.


    Mimi #2 taking “the Phantom Baby” for a walk

  17. No, this is not over yet.
  18. The parents decide that since they would like to go for a walk further than 50 metres, they will take out the trailer too, just in case.
  19. They take the trailer out of the garage. The tires are flat.
  20. The Mimis decide they want neither doll’s pram nor kickboard.
  21. TMD tries to air the tires with “help” (see my post on when helping isn’t helping).


    A little help is guaranteed to slow things down make you happy, right?

  22. TMM stowes kickboard and pram away in the garage


    And why again did we have to take these out? Mimi #1’s standard answer to these questions is: because.

  23. We put the Mimis in the trailer and actually LEAVE.

BTW: Mimi #2 fell asleep about two minutes after we’d left the house which wasn’t according to our plan (see 1.). So we half-jogged around the block to put her in her bed in hopes of a naptime break for the parents. Needless to say she decided to sabotage this plan and after 1 hour of indoor playing, TMD left again with the kids for the playground. This was what it looked like when they came back. Pure, adorable evil, I tell you.


If they weren’t so damn adorable, it would really be exhausting. Oh wait, it actually is.

 I’m hoping we’re not the only ones failing miserably at the attempt to leave the house fully dressed in a coordinated manner?

Actually, if you want some sound advice, check out my friend Alexandras blog doublyblessedblog.com (she’s a mother of twins, so she’s playing in a different league althogether!).

Happy, sane week to all of you!

P.S: Subscribe to my blog, or like this post on facebook, follow me on facebook, and of course share to your hearts content with all your great friends.

The Sick-Child-Competence-Gap

Originally I wanted to write something at least partly intellectual and controversial on working Moms. However, I a.) somehow lacked inspiration and enthusiasm and b.) was sabotaged by TMD (my very own, sometimes more, sometimes less dear husband) who suggested a hot topic which we had the pleasure discussing last night at around 1 p.m.

Bed-time talk of the other kind

And that, to my childless readers, is a lot less exciting than it sounds. Since you will find out if you have children, bedtime is sometimes the only time you find yourself talking to your spouse about – wait for it- the children. There might have been other talk in the bedroom in a very distant past, but these times, my very dear friends have definitely gone. Gone for the next at least 15 years I am slowly realising. Because if you’re not talking, you’re sleeping. Full stop. After all, we’ve got two kids (yes, there’s a reason, why this blog is called TWOmimimom!)

So what was going down was the following: Mimi #1 has been hoarse since Sunday. And was coughing like an old mating walrus. Signs which could indicate that later that night you will be freezing your nose and other vital bodyparts off, whilst holding your wheezing, well wrapped child on your lap waiting for the night to be over (for those not familiar with the scenario: Pseudo-Croup, an inflammation in the throat which can cause breathing difficulties. Main thing is: keep calm and try to get the child breathe cold air. Outside or fridge will do. In most cases it starts around 11 p.m. and is over around 4 a.m.)

 One of the worst nights of my life

Last time this happened was a good year ago, when Mimi #2 was around 4 months old and TMD had buggered off – as always- to Wales for a spot of flying. This, so far has been the worst night since I had kids. Thank God I had a friend with her daughter staying over, and even though I didn’t wake her up, it still was a huge relief to know that if I had to rush to the hospital, she would be there to care for Mimi #2. I did not sleep that night. And the night after (I had asked my Mum round, as always). I slept on the carpet in the childrens room because I wanted to make sure Mimi #1 was ok. Fun fact of course: By Monday when TMD came back, Mimi #1 slept through again.

 That shared Mom-wisdom

The thing which saved me in that first night, is that when Mimi #1 was still very little, I had a befriended mother of three over who had told me about symptoms and what to do. And those of you who do not (yet) have kids and are reading this blog, you will now also know what to google for if this happens. Because you already read this with your minds and eyes open. And things like that just stick. WHEREAS, and here we come to the point, TMD up to last night, still had not bothered to read up on this. Even though Mimi #1 had had another bout of pseudo-croup last autumn when TMD was in fact around.

“We” as in “you”

So when he asked me yesterday at 1 p.m. “what do we (love the WE in this) do again if it IS pseudo croup”? I had a minor melt-down (not in the teary but more in the shouty way). Followed by me whining: “This is why I feel that I’m always the primary caretaker, the last in the lane, basically the plankton in the food chain”. Because in these moments it feels like after me there’s just nobody else to ask or make decisions.

Crawling back…

So even though I’ve been bragging in my last post, on sharing responsibilities, I have to admit that when it comes to sick children, that probably is just an illusion I gave myself. And that’s just how it is. Dads are incredibly competent when it comes to playing games. Being the fun entertainer, including, of course the classical winding up thing before bedtime.



Entertainment Departement clearly lies with TMD


It is about keeping up, Dads

Of course Dads can live up to that knowledge, but somehow mothers have a head-start even before the children are born and to complement that, Dads show serious lack of enthusiasm in doing so. We mostly learn from our friends, and Dads seem to not talk about sick children (come to that anyway, I still have no idea what men talk about because after a night out with his mates, TMD doesn’t even know if these mates have new girlfriends?!). Which does not mean that Dads cannot acquire these skills, but they have to do so actively. And so they should. Which is why, apparently, TMD has spent some of his workday researching on pseudo-croup. And had the nerve to brag about his newly acquired knowledge this evening.

Now question is, should I do some praising for this? Well yes, I probably should. In a very OMMM – Jesper Juul – encouraging- guiding- him- along- way. Not saying I did though.

P.S: Subscribe to my blog, or like this post on facebook, follow me on facebook, and of course share to your hearts content to all your great friends. As I found out this week, what I really want is to grow a community of fantastic, amazing women, mothers and human beings!

P.P.S: TMD, I hope you know that -notwithstanding The Gap- your the bestest Mimi-Dad ever. Seriously.


Hinreichend reicht, weil mehr ist besser als einer

A short preface to my english readers: this will be a German post for once, since I’m referring to a Swiss newspaper article and switching between the two languages makes my head spin. Will be back in english next week for sure!

Anlässlich eines Artikels in der NZZ vom 8.11., und eines Kommentars dazu beim Tagi, möchte ich hier auch noch meinen Senf dazugeben. Vor allem deshalb, weil ich genau diesen Standpunkt zu verteidigen versucht habe in einer Diskussion mit einer sehr lieben befreundeten “Working Mom” als ich in London war. Sie war felsenfest davon überzeugt, dass, zumindest in den ersten 3-4 Lebensjahren eines Kindes, sie die allerwichtigste Bezugsperson sei. Und da sie davon so überzeugt war, aber doch auch 80% arbeitet, tat es mir irgendwie weh weil ich mir dachte, dass es so für sie ja sicher sehr hart sein musste, arbeiten zu gehen, weil sie doch zu Hause eigentlich unersetzlich ist in diesem Bild.

Ich persönlich habe mich schon in meiner ersten Schwangerschaft über meine Rechtfertigungsanstrengungen genervt. Was nervte war einerseits die Frage überhaupt von mir nicht allzu nah bekannten Menschen, was ich denn nach der Schwangerschaft arbeiten wolle (na, meinen Job natürlich), gefolgt von der Frage was wir dann mit dem Kind täten (eben ja, die Geschichte mit dem Pflock). Und dann, meistens von Männern, der Kommentar ob das für mich dann auch ok wäre. Ich meine, hätte ich es so organisiert, wenn ich es nicht gewollt hätte? Es war, als ob diese Kollegen, die notabene männlich und meist kinderlos waren, einem geheimen Verschwörungszirkel angehörten. Aber, wie ich dann festgestellt habe, so geheim war dieser Verschwörungszirkel nicht. Und klein eben gerade auch nicht. Sondern, wie im Artikel beschrieben, 66% der Schweizer Bevölkerung. Und ja, genau so hat es sich angefühlt, und tut es noch immer.



Ah, wenn ich das gewusst hätte…. Hätte ich mir glatt die Schwangerschaft und die lästigen Fragen sparen können. Weil wenn Zweifel:  Retoure.


Ich versuche dann jeweils noch halbherzig zu erklären, dass mein Mann ja auch 80% arbeitet und es also so wäre, als ob ich 60% und er 100% arbeitet, was ein gesellschaftlich anerkannteres Konzept zu sein scheint. Aber das ist dann meist eh total vergebens, weil ich bereits unwiderruflich in die Rabenmutter-Hölle geschickt worden bin, wo ich wohl bis ans Ende meiner Tag vor mich hinbraten soll. Und jetzt wo ich das schreibe, frage ich mich grad: warum tu’ ich das überhaupt? Ich muss mich hier doch nicht rechtfertigen, schliesslich sind diese Menschen ja noch nicht mal Teil meiner Familie. Werd’ ich also in Zukunft unterlassen, danke. Ist eh eine Frauenkrankheit die ich mir abgewöhnen will. Wohl eine Schwester der mir wohlbekannten Gefallsucht. Versuch ich ebenfalls loszuwerden.

Aber zurück zum Thema: Was ich eben ganz fest glaube ist, dass man die Mütter nicht überbewerten solle. Und ich meine das nicht in dem Sinne, als dass man die Leistung von Müttern im allgemeinen und Vollzeitmüttern im Speziellen kleinreden soll. Im Gegenteil, ich ziehe jeden, wirklich jeden Tag den Hut vor ihnen und ihrer Geduld und Hingabe.

Mit dieser Hochjubelei der Mutter-Kind-Beziehung kommt aber auch eine echt niederdrückende Verantwortung. Denn wenn die Mutter die allerwichtigste Bezugsperson ist, dann liegt eben auch die Ganze Last auf ihr wenns mal nicht so supi läuft. Was es ja oft nicht tut. Und wenn die Mutter die ist, die sich 24/7 kümmert, dann ist sie auch die Einzigste, die dann herausfinden muss, was dem Kind fehlt und wie man das Kind “flickt”. Das kann auch eine Supermutter ganz schön überfordern. Es ist doch irgendwie viel fairer, wenn der Vater hier die Entscheidungen mittrifft, und wenns nur darum geht, ob das Kind jetzt halt ein Zäpfli braucht oder nicht, oder ob man zum Arzt muss oder nicht.



Zu Zweit kann man auch mal nichts sagen, und ist doch nicht allein. Gilt auch für Mütter.


Ich sage einfach, dass es andere Organisationsformen gibt, die dem Kind mindestens gleich viel Wärme, Fürsorge, Inspiration und Spass bieten, und die den Müttern das Muttersein etwas einfacher machen. Wohl genau deshalb nehme ich mich hier nicht so wichtig, und das sorgt oft für Irritation. Es wird erwartet, dass ich immensen Stolz aus meinem Muttersein ziehe. Tu’ ich nicht. Ich bin stolz auf meine Kinder um Ihrer selbst Willen, aber nicht auf meine Mutterschaft, denn die, um ehrlich zu sein, ist für mich noch immer ein einfach unfassbares Wunder und Geschenk.

Ja das Kind braucht seine Mutter, aber eben nicht nur. Das Kind braucht genauso seinen Vater, bei dem es gerade auch physisch öfter herausgefordert wird und der zum hundertelfzigsten mal die “falschen” Kleidli in die Krippe mitgegeben hat, und bei dem das Kind mangels Frisur blind durch die Weltgeschichte springt. Ein Papa, der das Kind alleine auf die Rolltreppe lässt, weil er halt nicht so eine Glucke ist wie die Mama. Das ist toll! Es gibt dem Kind Selbstvertrauen.

Das Kind braucht andere Menschen um sich herum, die es lieb haben und mit ihm alte Spiele auf neue Art spielen, oder neue Spiele einführen. Menschen, die Lieder mit anderem Text singen und vielleicht Lautstärkepegel-mässig eine etwas andere Schmerzgrenze haben. Es braucht ausserdem wirklich möglichst viele Kinder in verschiedenen Grössen und Altersklassen um sich herum. Nämlich solche, die es herumbefehlen kann und andere, von denen es herumbefohlen wird. Weil, eben, das Leben das auf die Kinder zukommt, wird sie mit Menschen und Begegnungen aller Art beschenken (oder konfrontieren) und ich denke da hilft es doch enorm, wenn man eine gewissen Flexibilität anerzogen bekommen hat.

Und dann noch was, so nach Wochenenden wie diesem, wo alles irgendwie echt nur anstrengend war (obwohl meine Mimis die tollsten, besten, schönsten, klügsten etcetcpp sind, drei Finger aufs Herz), bin ich total überzeugt, dass es mir und den Mimis gut tut, wenn da wieder mal etwas frischer Wind in unsere Beziehung kommt und wir mal getrennt voneinander was erleben. Das ist in der Beziehung mit dem Partner ja auch “öppedie” durchaus hilfreich.

Weil ja, ich möchte, dass meine Kinder ein Leben haben dürfen, von dem ich nicht alles weiss. Sie sind schon sehr früh fähig, sich eigene Beziehungen zu anderen Menschen aufzubauen, die ich nicht alle nahe kenne. Ich finde das toll. Weshalb nur will man mir glauben machen, dass ich das nicht toll finden darf?

Es soll jede Familie für sich entscheiden, was stimmt für sie (sofern die finanzielle Situation das überhaupt zulässt), nur fände ich es wirklich mega läss, wenn die Gesellschaft sich hier auch etwas emanzipieren würde und diese Müttervergötterung -gopf nomal- subito in den Keller schicken würde. Oder grad direkt in die Rabenmutter-Hölle, dann wär ich nicht so allein da unten.

Happy next week!

P.S: würde mich über Rückmeldungen und Meinungen freuen, auch wenn Sie nicht die gleichen sind.

P.P.S: ihr könntet mir gerne auf meine Blog folgen hier, das macht mich total glücklich. Oder meine Facebookpage liken. Da versuche ich jeweils täglich was Unterhaltsames zu posten, weil das Leben ist ja schon kompliziert genug, oder.




The firsts (good, bad and ugly)

One of the exciting, and exhausting, things when living with small children, is that daily life consists of a constant series of firsts and lasts. A permanent series of hellos and goodbyes and not all of them are equally welcome to be sure.

The good, the bad and the ugly

Some of the firsts are unexpected (like Mimi #1 deciding this August that she was potty trained) and some of them are eagerly awaited (like my longing for Mimi #2 eating proper solids, so the days of cooking different things would finally be over). And most of them make you cry and laugh at the same time.

I want to remember happened this summer

As the days, weeks and months have a tendency to just fly by and then, in hindsight, are one garbled mush in which I cannot find anything anymore (actually much like our appartment at the moment), I have decided to use this blog to record some of them which all happened this summer.

1.) First time the Mimis saw the sea (well, don’t think Mimi #2 cared too much). An event, I believe, which was most exciting for the parents. I made about a million pictures of the event, just to make sure it wasn’t forgotten. 20160618_103805-2

2.) Mimi #1 discovered the joys of the “Babyccino” (which she insists on calling “‘Appuccino” and looked incredibly grown up and well behaved while drinking it. Which, I can assure you, she is not most of the time. Also, I love the way you can see how she peeled her bun in the pic below.


3.) we went to the annual fair in our hometown and ended up buying two humonguous balloons, which I’ve enjoyed more than I thought possible (and by the way, why can’t Mimi #2s legs not always stay as cuddly as they are in this picture?):


4.) The obvious milestone of Mimi#2 mastering the art of walking around the 4th of September 2016, which later on was followed by the mind-blowing notion, that it meant I could actually walk to my car without carrying one (or two) children. And this was the day she just -almost- managed it:


5.) we walked in the mountains. For almost 400metres I believe. But still, we were there and had a picnic:


6.) and in the past two weeks the firsts kept piling up: there was the day that the girls actually played by themselves for almost 10′ (you get modest with your demands, don’t you).


5.) we said good-bye to our formula box which had accompanied us now for a good 2.5 years and was used every single day. This might not seem like much, but is was one sure sign that we are moving ahead and that we will soon be outgrowing the life-with-a-baby-thing.


RIP formula box of our household. Thanks for being there every day, also on ungodly hours… (btw. no idea why TMD aka my husband chose something with coffeebeans on it, wishful thinking?)

6.) Mimi #1 eats whole apples. Well, actually halves of whole apples but still. She stopped eating apples for a while (might have had an overdose from her puree-phase) and has refused to eat sliced apples. Huge improvement in any case!



7.) No Pictures available for this one: first trip to the dentist with two kids after Mimi #1 had taken a fall off her Triptrap, on to the stone-floor with her teeth first. An incident which I will definitely remember, but not for the right reasons. All good again though, even if she now sports one grey tooth.

8.) No Pictures of that one either, (but I’m sure you’ll be glad about this): first time we were woken up in the night to find out that Mimi #2 was covered in sick. I assure you it is just as disgusting as it sounds and I would love to know that this was also the last time this happened. But I am being told that this is not the case. Damn. (huge shoutout to the inventor of the washing machine. I mean, we washed the sheets, not the kid of course)

9.) Mimi #2 mastered the art of climbing her older sisters Triptrap chair. A development which I still cannot welcome whole-heartedly to be honest. Especially after #7


10.) Mimi #1 decided she also did not need any nappies anymore during the night. Me, like, NO you are wearing them (since I am really not keen on being woken up every night by a bed-wetting incident). So we made the deal that if her nappy was dry in the mornings for 10 times in a row (not as if she could grasp the concept of 10 nights yet, but it sort of helped giving her a target), we would ditch the nappy. And so she did. Am still in shock.

I’m sure there are even more stunning, joyful, exciting, gross and exhausting firsts ahead of us for the winter (can’t wait for the snow/ski bit).

Any firsts on your side recently? Let me know in the comments, especially the weird and wacky ones!

When helping isn’t helping

As a caveat: this post does not contain ANY meaning- or helpful parenting advice. Just an honest opinion. And a drinking confession.

The famous Swiss expert when it comes to raising kids is Remo Largo. For those of you who are Swiss and who have kids, I believe that 99.9% of you have purchased the book “Babyjahre” and yes, it is great and true and helpful in real life (something rarely true for any of the advisory books about parenting. Well, not as if I’d read many of these to be honest. We just make it up as we go along). One of my friends summed the book up as follows “he basically says everything is normal, since all kids are different. And that grass doesn’t grow faster when you pull at it”. All so true.

What he also says is that you don’t necessarily have to always “just” do childfriendly actvities. Rather involve the children in your daily chores and tasks around the houshold, as what they really crave is to do as the adults do, to imitate and be part of the things which happen.

For me this is great news in the sense that it is not deemed necessary that I enter the seven circles of hell every day (i.e. things such as daily visits to the playground, or, much worse, softplay areas.

What it means though is that you should involve kids in stuff like folding laundry, cleaning the flat, cooking, etc. Sounds great, right? Have you ever tried it? I would like to illustrate my point with the short video below.

No. It is NOT helping. It is actually just testing my patience. And that’s the harmless version of helping, as anybody with kids certainly has experienced. Folding laundry with a toddler? “HA” is all I say to that. It is more like a folding contest, where you have to prove your lightning-speed folding-technique whilst the toddler proves his equally fast unfolding-strategy. It is exhausting. And not beneficial to mother – child relationship if you’re asking me. At least if you don’t wont to fold that one basket of laundry for all eternity.

Cooking with kids is another great topic. We love doing that because it keeps them busy. HOWEVER, you must calculate on average 2 times as long for the cooking at at least 4 times as long for cleaning. Mimi #1 can be involved in baking stuff but will eventually end up covered in flour. Or dough. Most probably both. (I recall the Gnocchi making attempt last Sunday which is still vivid in my mind, Kudos to Twomimidad for going that extra mile). Mimi #2s arms are still too short to reach from the Triptrap (the #1 kid-seat in Switzerland) to the kitchen worktop. So she’s left to play with the cutlery drawer (most of the time we actually remember to remove the sharp kitchen knives, bonus points to us if we do) throwing all the cutlery one by one on the stone kitchen floor. Bonus points to the parent who manages not to step on a spoon and fall over!

I am certainly already looking forward to all the x-mas cookie making, will need some meditation before AND after the activity I believe. But all in all, I would rather clean my kitchen for an hour (or even two) than going to an indoor playing area on a rainy day. At least I can pour myself a proper drink whilst cleaning in peace, when the kids are in bed. And that -my friends- is always a killer-bonus!


The brave adult keeping the kids busy in a pedagogically meaningful activity was actually my Mom. Yep, she’s fearless! (and no, I have no clue on what amount of chocolate was consumed in the process)


Assessing my Everyday Life

It might be the case that I am thinking too much in stereotypes. Yes, it might be the case that I am even prejudiced (see my blog here) about working fathers vs. working mums. Which is why I can’t quite fathom whether to like this ad or not:


If you have read this post, I believe you would know that I like the general message of it. I would love to see that fathers have the same choices and difficulties when they have to set up their life with kids. It certainly rings a bell with me. Probably more than I would like. However that then gets me confused because they are asking this to fathers after all, not to mothers. And, see, that is what I can’t quite figure out, I can’t quite figure out whether I like this or not.

However, since this ad haunted me now since I saw it when I got back from London, I have decided to tackle the issue in a “manly” way, even though I’m not -apparently- the target group for this question. And I have written down where my time goes in a typical week. A sort of work-life balance in a pie-chart:


There are some things I like in there, for example that I actually spend little time commuting. Or cooking and cleaning, things which don’t really make me happy. And sleep (though this might look a bit too positive, since -yes- my kids are good sleepers, but not quite every night. Not in winter for sure!)

There’s Me-Time and Me-Time

And that I seem to be getting quite a bit of this “Me-Time”. However, I have to say that “Me-Time” doesn’t necessary mean, I always do fantastically amusing stuff in there (like writing the blog for example). It also means that I work off my mental or physical To-Do-List at home like research for kids’ stuff (where do I find cheap, pretty shoes for example, or when should children start seeing the dentist, or how do you talk to them so they understand what you want them to do, etc….) and also stuff for others like going through 1.5 years of photos on 3 different devices so I will actually live up to my promise to make one album per kid per year plus one for all the grandparents & godparents. So “Me-Time” isn’t always so very me. But at least it is time where nobody pulls at my knees, nobody wants me to read books and I can go to the toilet on my own which is always a bonus. Or eat chocolate without having to share.

Oh the Guilt-Thing (aka, my “let-it-go” task)

What also really relieved me is that I actually spend more time with my children then at work. It is scary quite how much it has done so. Plus, there are at least 7 weeks of holidays added to this, so there I go. Maybe I won’t burn in the “bad-mother-hell” just yet. Phew.

Actually, looking at this, it makes me quite happy with my current life. And so very thankful for the ability to chose. Overall I believe that I will survive parenting as sane (or insane) as I have always been. And it is possible, at least at the moment, when kids are healthy, work is not too crazy and nothing comes in on-top, to juggle all this. I just have to find a way to fit-in “sports” qualifying as me-time… but let’s save that one for another time. It also makes me see, once again, that every day only has 24 hours, so everything I do on top will cut into something else. Mostly on Me-Time, and in a weird way it has made many choices easier for me, clearer. Time is very precious to me and I want to be sure that where I have the choice, I chose either time for the kids or myself, I will not make any unnecessary sacrifices there.

It’s still unclear to me though, if this ad sticks to my mind in a good or a bad way. If men and women are treated as equals, why have I never seen it with a mother asking the same questions?

P.S: It is actually an ad of my husbands employer, which is a weird coincidence somehow.

P.P.S: Since you’ve read this really all the way to the bottom, and if you still like this blog, click on the follow-me button top right or here, and/or follow me on Facebook, that would make me reallyreallyhappy!




Thumbs up for London

So that was it now, my two nights alone in London. And tell you what: after all that whining in the last post, I didn’t miss the Mimis one bit, and that’s the honest truth. I was far too busy to do so actually. And see, that’s why I sometimes need a little shove to get going. Because afterwards I enjoy it immensely.

London has kept me very busy

First of all I slept until 10 AM UK time on Friday, which means 11 in Swiss time. Something that hasn’t happened to me for ages, since my body just got too used to get up at around Mimi #1 o’clock… Maybe it was due to last weeks’ broken nights. Or my beatiful room on the top floor which I’ve had far too little time to enjoy properly.
Therefore I had a bit of a late start into Friday but since there’s no crying over etc., I just decided to go with the flow. So I was late at Tate Modern, plus it turned out that they only let people in to the exhibition in badges since it is still so popular. I was in complete awe of the fact that even now you have to queue up for it. I only had to wait for a good 30′ however, and this actually gave me time to explore the building a bit. And what a building that is!

Kunsthaus Zürich go home, hide and cry

I’ve visited Tate once but only stood in the big hall and wasn’t really interested anyway (teenagers, I tell you…). It is absolutely jaw-droppingly HUGE. And what I liked about it particularly was the massive carpet on the entrance ramp down, where plenty of children tumble about, what a great idea! It makes the whole place feel really cool in an including way. I still wont bring my kids into the actual exhibition (or let alone to London) for some years though. A decision that was being backed-up as I saw one woman with two kids in the exhibition and she ended up sitting on the floor with the kids, holding the iPhone with kiddie videos on it to keep them entertained…
Toptip for all of you who have kids who are into books, there is a great selection of children’s books in the museum shop which will also make adults happy, so I spent a bit of money there….


View from the tenth Floor is amazing… btw. someone still owes me a night in The Shard I believe…

The actual exhibition was great in the sense that it manages to really convey O’Keeffe’s life (and contradict the sexual interpretation of her work, for all of you out there who just think of lady bits when they hear O’Keeffe!). It didn’t feature many of my favourite pictures, but that didn’t matter to me. I spent a good hour watching and reading and just really BEING there, completely immersed in a different world. I forgot how great it is to really just take stuff in wholeheartedly, rather than trying to do five different things at a time. I think it has given me a sense of how O’Keeffe has led her life and how this has contributed to her art.
Coming out again was as if coming out of a tunnel, so I took some time to stroll over to St. Pauls, and then tried to find my way to Covent Garden. Since I am a very half-hearted user of Google Maps, I kind of meandered a bit through fleet street and found the house Dr. Johnson lived in, and a very green place, which is what I like about meandering. You find stuff you didn’t look for and it is a luxury which costs time, so I hardly ever do it nowadays.

Top left: Covent Garden!

The Shopping bit

Finally I did find Covent Garden though (evil people hid it, see picture above), had lunch and the went proper shopping. Yes, I mean proper shopping, and I will not tell anybody how much money I spent (probably not even myself). I have found that I am at an age (ugh, even just writing this makes me feel old), where I can’t be bothered to buy the really cheap stuff. If I make the time to go shopping and find something which really fits, I want it to last, so it’s not cheap anymore. Worst thing was that I kept telling myself that the pound was so low, basically everything is a bargain. We’ll see when I get the actual credit card bills. I’m really apt at lying to myself when it comes to these things.

Heading Out

Anyway, then I rushed back to the hotel room (hello beautiful room!) to offload the bags and set off again to meet a dear friend in Surbiton. A train journey, you will be surprised to hear, I managed without getting lost (for those of you who know me, I’m talking about the “Grange-over-Sands” incident).

Some More Shopping

Saturday morning I made sure to get up early to get in 1.5 hours of very successful powershopping before making my way to the airport. Sweating along on the Piccadilly line of course, always part of the experience.

The Places I want to see…

So oh, how I could’ve stayed on!!! So many things I would’ve loved to see too, and what I also truly missed out on was to just sit in a coffee for an inappropriately long time, staring out the window. I had been hoping for a bit more idling, but that’s just not possible in 1.5 days. And I kind of also missed TMD, since he is my fellow London-traveller and companion and I have kind of grown used to him being around. Weird, right?

I’m looking forward though to a.) hugging the Mimis tight tonight and b.) coming back at some point, and this we will!
P.S: I discovered there’s something even slightly better than shopping:

Just Me, Myself and I

(this could get unexpectedly soppy towards the end, be warned)

Me, myself and Piccadilly

I have taken a leap of faith and travelled to London all by myself. I was looking forward to this trip for a while now, but when it got really close, I got scared. A good thing that flights and hotel was booked, so I couldn’t pull out! The week so far at home, without the father of the children (aka my husband, aka TMD) who has buggered off to Denmark (see last post), was bloody exhausting. First Mimi #2 got a fever, then she got better and Mimi #1 followed suit. As always. As soon as autumn has made a proper appearance the whole sickness-trade is back in business big time. And let me assure you that Mimi #1 is not of the quietly suffering Kind when she is ill. She wants to be really close to you physically, and exclusively, which is quite a problem if you’re only one parent for two kids. Hence a lot of wailing.

Yes, I am already missing my children. But.

Which makes me wonder how it is possible that whenever your children are with you, they annoy the crap out of you, but as soon as you’re without them, you miss them so much? It’s not just missing in a general sense, it is an almost physical pain, proper withdrawal syndroms. It must be -as ever- the hormones. (that’s just my theory, no scientific research behind this!!)
I took holidays this week, since I knew it would be too stressful if I’m on my own with the girls and working my usual shift. A wise decision initially. Unfortunately, as always, there was some stuff at work which absolutely had to be done this week. Fortunately, as always, my family supported and we had both Grandmas over helping out. But still, being the one responsible parent 24/7 is exhausting, especially when children are sick. I find myself even more in awe of single parents (or those mothers with a permanently absent husband). They are the true heroes in this parenting game!

And now I’m off



Trafalgar Square by night – btw. I really need a new phone…


So I too have now buggered off for two days, to London. And still I am fighting hard to keep my bad conscience at bay. Because, as my Mum (thanks Mum, for looking after the Mimis, yet again!!) wisely put it, you don’t help anybody with a bad conscience, you just make yourself miserable. I really envy my husband, or any parent actually who is able to just leave the kids at home in good (!!!) care, and though missing them, not make themselves feel bad about it. Because even though I call myself emancipated, and proud working Mum etc., I constantly feel pulled between the different needs. The needs of my children, the needs of the job, the husband and last but not least, myself. And that’s just the honest, ugly truth, sorry. Super-working Mum has just died a sudden death.

The guilt issue



Nope, for a change this isn’t about guilt in relation with chocolate, though it is a very familiar subject too.


 I am now, for the second time in 2 years going away on my own for two nights. There’s no reason for that other than wanting to see an exhibition at the Tate Modern. And probably, in a dark corner of my mind I suspected that after one week of single-parent-experience I would need a break. And so I do. Since my husband always is the very first person encouraging me to go and do something for myself I just booked. He’s honestly great like that (also in those instances when it means that he has to look after the kids). Greater than I could have ever imagined. I do not recall one single occasion when he gave me the feeling that, really, I should be staying at home. And since I do always, always have a guilt problem (also known as the killer question: “am I spending enough time with the kids”), this probably just about saves me, as in ME. Because if it wasn’t for him, I’d probably not even remotely know myself anymore. Because I would never actually permit myself to not be with my children when I’m not working.

I wonder if it just me

Such is the pressure I give myself, and which probably, but not only, is put upon mothers from society. And for me it takes active willpower and encouragement to at least try to free myself from this pressure. If it wasn’t for this encouragement, one day I would probably just about not know my name anymore, since I hadn’t been able to do things I used to love and actually still love but forgot about. See, the great thing is, TMD has known me for a while before the Mimis (the so-called pre-Mimi-era) and he probably fell in love with that person first of all. So he wants to be with that person, not only with the actual Twomimimom I am now most of the time. And that’s the thing I am most thankful for, since even when I am in danger of losing myself, there’s somebody right next to me who reminds me of who I am. Thank you TMD. And for f… sake stop crashing your planes into the danish vegetation!!!!!

Home Alone – Wish me Luck

You know when you have kids, within seconds, everything can go from perfect and peacful to complete mayhem within split seconds.

Which is what happened today and which is also, why this is going to be a SHORT post today. Plus this here is still sitting in my lounge and since I have visitors coming tomorrow morning, I will have to do something about it (move it to the bedroom for example??).


So, to give you the picture: TMD has buggered off to somewhere windy, possibly rainy, most probably cold in the north in the pursuit of his very weird hobby. (see here) And since it is the World Championships, even I was not in the position to deny him that. And, it is worthwile to mention, he’s buggered off for ten days which is basically forever.

So today the Mimis were exceptionally in the nursery and when I went to pick Mimi #1 up, she ran towards me (great, cute!) and fell flat on her face (sh..). And this is not figuratively, I mean this literally, on her face. Luckily, no teeth or bones were damaged in the process. So this has sent an already tired girl into a downward spiral as you can imagine.

Then she didn’t want to eat, of course so I resorted to a not approved tactic which always works: bribery. And I pulled out what I had bought for emergencies after a mere 15 minutes of being at home with the two of them:


Ooops, all gone…


This has helped Mimi #1 to immediately regain her appetite . I then had to give Mimi #2 a bear as well, which she shared (bless her, she is still innocent, so not aware of Mimi #1s cunning) with Mimi #1. So Mimi #1 has already had a sugar high on our very first evening. Plus I was cried at from both sides a good 15 times within 2 hours. And I already had to pull out the princess band-aids as well. So I have not much more hard-core bribery left. I am getting scared. Ten days ahead. Wish me luck!

Why this Website

Hi Roger, I feel so honoured to have inspired you. May the light-hearted moments become more frequent, step by step (song of my day…)

Living with a complex PTDS and a severe depression

Some day in June this year, I received the diagnosis dysthymia. I thought, wow, finally I get a name for my disease, not only depression (which is somehow like saying meat when you mean spare ribs). I waited since October 2015 for a clear diagnosis. Googling dysthymia was like receiving a punch in the face. Dysthymia means ‘chronical depression’. I was shocked and I’m still shocked. First because I thought ‘how long do I carry this sickness in me?’. And on the other hand ‘chronical’ means forever, so I will never ever be healthy again.

At the moment, my biggest problems are fatigue and sadness. To work together with a therapist on your own mind is very stressful. Like in the picture above, my head and my mind are a construction site, somehow, the sun is shinig and everything is alright, few moments later, there is a thunderstorm which makes…

View original post 103 more words