Kid Life 365 {Week Five}

 

Thirty-four: Hugo day two. Is there anything better than watching your partner hold your baby? I think no. 

Thirty Five: Actually, okay, maybe watching your child hold your baby. We came home from the hospital after spending two nights there, and while getting out of the hospital was about as challenging as crossing the Sahara (more on that later, hopefully) it was so good to be home.

Thirty-six: Making time for big-kid cuddles. 

Thirty-seven: I basically can't take a picture of Stella without Hugo in the frame. Wherever he is, so is she. To say that she is thrilled with her new baby is a gross understatement. 

Thirty-eight: Sleep smiles. One of the many things I had forgotten about the newborn stage. And, PS, they are every bit as delightful the second time around.

Thirty-nine: Hugo's coard stump healed. We celebrated by offering him his first bath at home. It was a resounding success. We've got another water baby on our hands!

Fourty: Well, little Hugo Bear, you sure do look adorable when you're sucking your thumb. 

+++

I'm slowly getting around to editing, processing, and filing my photographs from the first few weeks of Hugo's life. I've decided to take on two 365 projects; one for Stella and one for Hugo. I'll post a collection of each of them here, a highlight roll, so to speak. I intend to use my DSLR camera exclusively of this project, but let's be real, the first few weeks of newbornhood, when you're drifting in a hormonal haze of exhaustion, and your says are filled with poop, and spit-up, tears and mastitis, a certain degree of grace in the form of iPhone photos can be extended, right?

Also, I'm wondering if I might post pictures one-by-one rather than in a collection? Because then I might blog more than once a week, and might write thoughtful accompanying text? But I've already started it this wan and um, important decisions are haaaaard!! 

 

 

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Kid Life 365 {Week Four}

Twenty // Listening to the baby; "he says dum-dum dum-dum dum-dum."

Twenty-one // Quiet time, becuase Mama needed it.

Twenty-two // Sleeping over in my bedroom because of a nasty cough that just won't quit. 

Twenty-three // Getting a physio treatment for that unending cough.

Twenty-four // An afternoon playdate with her "best fwiend."

Twenty-five // Saturday afternoon at the pool. This kid just WON'T allow for her face to get wet, so creative methods of encouraging pool jumping need to be found.

Twenty-six // Baby love, and now with hindsight, an excellent foreshadowing of how she'll love on her brother.

 

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Fresh, New.

New Years is kind of a crock of shit, right? I mean what makes January 1st any more or less significant than November 13th? We all launch headlong into the year full of ambition, vague resolutions, and hope for a new year new me this is the year that I’ll finally loose those ten pounds cross my fingers hope to die. 

 

I don’t buy it. Intellectually.

 

But emotionally? That’s a different story.

 

 As the year draws to a close I invariably catch myself taking stock, ticking off my achievements and mourning those ambitions that fell away.  Buoyant at the prospect of a fresh start, I begin keeping a mental list with all my hopes for everything that will be different, this year, promise, pinky swear.  

 

This year is no different. I’m hopeful that 2014 will offer indulgences, and maybe go a bit easier on me?

 

In the spirit of going easy, I’m not putting much pressure on myself this year. Our family is on the cusp of expansion, and I have no idea how easily we’ll all adapt to that change. 

 

So, I’ve set my sights on some easier objectives. Chief amongst those is a new photo project. 

 

A photo a day in 2014. 

 

My objective is to capture our days, the beautiful ordinary, and keep a record of them for my future self to look back upon, nostalgically, and wonder how it all went so quickly. My aim is to focus on kid life, without necessarily taking portraits daily. Because goodness knows, a certain three year old wouldn’t stand for that. Instead, I’ll draw inspiration from lifestyle photographers like this one who’s a real hero of mine, and this Jakarta based lifestyle photographer who is also doing a photo project this year. I love the way each of these ladies captures the background moments and the tiny things that make our lives so beautiful. 

 

I have so enjoyed the 52 project that I completed last year (last year???!!!), and so I’m going to carry on with that, by incorporating it into this year’s more ambitious project.  

 

I’m not sure yet, how I’ll post this project. Maybe in a weekly wrap-up? Let’s see. 

 

Now, here’s the first image to kick things off. See, I told you I’d get some resistance. 

326 / 366 {Cookie}

I told her this was a cookie house (because in the absence of an environment steeped in the culture traditions of the North America holiday season, this child has no concept of a gingerbread house. She believes Christmas to be a destination, like the mall, and tells me "I go to Christmas today! With Papi!")

 

In other news, I failed at my attempt to NABLOPOMO. I balme it on a cookie hangover. I had to take the whole weekend off to recover. Oy.

323 / 366 {bed}

The Chef and I do not use alarm clocks. They'd be totally superfluous considering our child is ALWAYS awake by six AM. 

Monday morning, eight AM, Mr. Chef late for work, Stella Bella late for school, and she was still snoozing. In her own room. On the floor. 

Hallelujah! Angles! And Stuff!!

It should also be noted that Stella had taken down all of her toys and her blanket so she wouldn't be lonely on the floor.

And, then, last night, Mr. Chef found our girl lying on the floor in front of her bookshelf. Miles away from bed. I dunno. I guess it just seemed right.

 

322 / 366 { <3 }

 

While this is, admittedly, not a particularly successful image from an artistic point of view, (I mean, let's face it, I just banged this one up here from my Instagram feed) it is totally illustrative of our lives, and Mr. Chef's super parenting powers. Yes, Sweetie, I will carry your tiny purple backpack, your Baby Honey, and your pink blanket through the lobby, pass all my co-workers, and into the super fancy pants mall.

321 / 366 {ice}

On the weekend, I went out for an early morning walk with Stella. I love getting out in the back streets in the steamy morning before the shops are open and seeing the city wake up for the day. We came across a man prepping his shop for icy drinks. Blocks of ice about three feet long were piled up on a hand cart and he chipped chipped chipped away, filling a bucket with shards of ice.

320 / 366 {play cook}

Oh, look! Another image of my child playing, taking from floor level, which suggests that despite my confession that sometimes I'd rather scrub toilets than play babies, I do engage in imaginative play with my kid. 

One of Stella's favourite games is to "play cook", and she prefers to do this not on the living room floor, but rather, she loads up her mini grocery cart, and pushes it out into the hotel and down the hallway where there's a big window overlooking the main traffic circle in Jakarta. So that way she can "see cars" while she "play cook!".

The only trouble with this set up is when she thinks that it's totally rad to do this at 7:10 in the morning. Naked. Oy.

PS, that's a thing that actually happened. 

:::

I've been kind of lax in promoting my blog on Top Baby Blogs, but if you have a second I'd love it if you could offer a vote. I am activly trying to grow my audience and ever time we get a bump in the TBB listings, we see an increase in traffic. So. Terima Kasih!!

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319 / 366 {mangos}

Despite my disdain for floor play, I do engage in it. And I get a daily reminder from my daughter to "play mangos, mama!". And then I die of cute. Die dead dead dead. So I don't have the heart to correct her.

::ni hao ya'll + sunday snapshot::

::a rural journal + your sunday best::

::simple as that + simple things sunday::

:the view from right here + weekly top shot::

 

316 / 366 {broken} {noblopomo}

This here fandango, this lack of a substantial blog post, is brought to you by grocery store day, a certain someone who screamed with great and protracted force about the injustice of pants (two guesses) a long wait for a taxi, and an oven that broke riiiiiigggghhht as I slid the meat loaf in. 

It is also brought to you by that asshole, J. Crew who sent me a gd email about how they're having a TAKE 30% OFF EVERYTHING email. Jerks.

And those other assholes, Scandinavian Minimal, who are having a similar sale. Because as I've said before, there's nothing that makes me fell better about my screamy kid than buying cute clothes for her. 

So, anyway, I've been imaginary shopping.

Oh, and also by this video, which is further proof that the internet is my spirit animal which I love.

315 / 366 {babies. light}

Another day, another half-assed iPhone picture masquerading as an actual, artistic 365 project-worthy image. Oh well.

I blame it on the the shock of a really, really, shockingly  bad hair experience yesterday.

Traumatic. Seriously.

Brought back memories of being five and being forced to submit to some pretty intense snipping that I totally was not okay with. Or 13, and getting a poorly-executed, lop-sided cut with unintentionally choppy layers at a time in my life when I wouldn't have had the confidence to pull off a perfect Rachel cut, let alone the monstrosity that I was left with. Awkwardness on awkwardness.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there. 

What is here, and ever-present, is this baby stroller. Whenever we venture out and about in the hotel, Baby Honey comes too. And Baby Honey always wants her stroller. 

People here in Jakarta ask Stella about the baby, is it her brother or her sister? Which, let's face it, just makes so much more sense than asking her if it's her own baby, like North Americans do. I mean, geeze, people, she's only two!! Don't you know ANYTHING about biology?

314 / 366 {retrograde} #nablopomo

Mercury is such an acehole. Retrograde bananas.

Misscommunications. Bad luck. Toddlers who wont go to bed but still wake up at 5:30 AM and who think it's perfectly reasonable to go through life wearing only one shoe.

That's where my head is at. Today brought an extra helping of retrograde bananas.

A super bad haircut + colour = rage tears.

 

Like, I'm telling you, THE WORST. My hair looked better before the cut, and that's saying something considering it was three days post wash and no stylist has touched it since April. And I generally don't brush it. Like. Ever.

Pretty much the only viable solution is to stamp you feat, have a public temper tantrum, and then drown your sorrows in a vat of nasi pandang. Followed by a brownie. Dipped in chocolate. 

Chocolate ice cream.

Two scoops.

And also sprinkles.

The end.

Post Script:

 

This face = redemption.

 

Post Post Script

I'm guest blogging at The Happiest Mom, and kind of thrilled about that. I'd love for you to check it out.

 

 

312 / 366 {piano}

In our travels around Jakarta, I'm always running into famous people. Except that, I don't know that they're famous. 

Stella, Nanny, and I were on our way home from play-group. As we exited the crowded elevator, Nanny basically squealed to me, SHE'S A FAMOUS ACTRESS!! And I was all, huh?

And then, today, we see a film shoot in our local park. You know. Just a regular piano in a green field. NBD. 

I sure wish I had more context in which to place these famous people, though. That would make this all the more exciting.

Guess I'd better snap to it with my Bahasa lessons, and start watching Indo movies.