After Dark

blue doc martens shoes

Deep deep down, at the very heart of my gut, I am a lone wolf. Before I had the blind luck to meet the man who dazed me with his love, made me a mother, and gave me a home, I spent seven years of my life (in a row) on my very own. But mind you, I was not a sad spinster and I have seldom been scared to face the world all alone. When I was on my own, I enjoyed each day by doing exactly as I pleased and I’ve never let the fact I was missing an entourage stop me from going wherever I wanted to go, even in the middle of the night. Continue reading

Burn Mommy Burn

an orange and pink flame in my hand

I’m really sorry you guys, I’m afraid I owe you an apology. I’ve made a big fat mistake and I need to tell you about it. Please let me explain.

You see, I’m a writer. I know I’m a writer for a number of reasons, but let’s just say it’s because when I write I feel right, I feel strong and sane, while when I don’t I become sick. Physically, mentally, in every single way. If I don’t write for too long I will break down and fold up on myself like a mad dinosaur pulverized by an alien beamer.

Round about the time my son was born, I completely stopped writing. Overnight, I went from multiple pages a day to absolutely not a single word for weeks and weeks and those weeks became several months very fast, almost a whole year. Obviously, I couldn’t afford to break down and fold up on myself as I had a baby on my arms, and so I dropped into a subtle creative panic that made me hallucinate a little. Continue reading

Baby Wearing Meets Baby Wheels [Rotterdam Parents]

photo of me wearing my sleeping son

A long long long long time ago, way before I even though I could ever get pregnant, I had very clear opinions about parenting. Not only about the important, metaphysical, aspects of it – my rock-steady knowledge concerned also many details of the nitty-gritty everyday of having kids. For example I knew exactly, if I were ever to have a child, that I would NOT follow the masses and push my precious offspring around in a stroller or pram or anything that clogs sidewalks and supermarket aisles making everyone behind me roll their eyes. That’s because, many dozens of months ago, one of my friend’s friend had a baby and she came to meet us wearing her newborn in a wrap, nice and warm under her winter coat. When I saw her, I immediately thought: That’s it! This is the right way to carry babies! Continue reading