So yes, this is where we are too… feels like my brain is slowly but surely evaporising.

DieGespräche mit meinem Sohn (soeben3) haben massiv an Tiefgründigkeit zugelegt. Vor allem deswegen, weil er bei jeder sich bietenden Gelegenheit sein aktuelles Lieblingswort «Warum?» einbringt.

Was soviel bedeutet wie: Wir reden nonstop miteinander. Warum, eine Frage, die immer geht. Immer. Immer!

Warum heisst die Person so? Warum wohnt sie da? Warum machst du das? Warum ist das so? Warum nicht? Und – die süsseste aller Warum-Fragen: «Mama, warum mache ich das so?»

Inzwischen habe ich meine Komfort-Zone verlassen und rede deutlich mehr als 16’215 Worte pro Tag. Davon ist nicht nur die Zunge angeschwollen, sondern auch mein Hirn, welches empfindlich gegen die Schädeldecke drückt.Die Welt in ihrer ganzen Komplexität kindgerecht reduziert wiederzugeben, ist zuweilen gar nicht so einfach.

Ausserdem kann ich nicht, wie ich feststellen musste, nonstop Fragen beantworten. Ich brauche Zeit zum Nachdenken und vor allem zum Nicht-Denken. Einfach mal rasch in Ruhe aufs Klo?

«Mama, warum gehst du…

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The state of me and the blog 5 months on

It is now about five months ago, since I have fallen line, hook and sinker for the social media adventure which has led to this blog. I am still immensely enjoying writing, though I wish I could somehow find time to post more frequently (I have just missed one week now, because life pre-xmas is frantic), and I wish I could finally come up with a method to note down the ideas I have for posts while driving.

Also I have become rather addicted to Instagram. My addiction to Instagram is something I wouldn’t really have thought possible since I considered myself quite immune to the fascination of Social Media (yes, you may laugh at me at this point). And I thought I wasn’t that interested in strange peoples’ lives on Social Media.

Turns out I’m a nosy Mom

Which, actually, I’m still not, UNLESS this other person has kids. (Which again tells me that having kids certainly has changed a part of me. The Mom-part which I’m still discovering, even after three years and two kids.) Since Mimi #1 was born, I have fallen into the habit of “momparing” (mom-comparing, yup, I just made this up). And I believe a lot of mothers are doing this. Let me assure you, this has nothing to do with proving that I am superior or inferior to other Moms, or jealousy at their life. It is the fact that you find yourself unable to stop comparing your kids to other kids and your situation to other Mom’s lives, all wrapped into the endeavour to do the best for your family. It is somehow like trying on a different wardrobe just to make sure that what you’re wearing is actually what suits you and what you feel comfortable in. A way to make sure your current situation is ok the way it is. And – of course- to ascertain the known fact that your kids are the best, smartest, happiest etc…. Because however you compare your kids, that will inevitably be the outcome, which is exactly as it should be for every parent.

Someone must be making things up here, right?

But I have also discovered on Instagram that there’s one area where I do not compare and which frankly makes me a wee bit worried. This worry has started to become more accentuated with the rapidly approaching Christmas. It is the field of crafts, cookie-baking and general Instagram-worthy creativity, outfittery and interior design. I am still blown away by how many profiles abound with pictures of perfectly baked goods, perfectly designed appartments, perfectly wrapped gifts and perfectly dressed Moms. Not to mention their makeup and hair. How??? How do they do that? They must either be superwomen (which I secretly suspect), or terribly rich with an army of stylists and nannies to make this work (nope, don’t think so for most of them). Or they must be very selective when posting pictures and spending a lot of time on the perfect setup. This is something I a.) do not have and b.) contradicts what I am searching for in Social Media: the possibility to find like-minded people (yep, we’re talking about the filter bubble issue here). Because I would so love to see I’m not alone in this.



This is about as far as I could go with the X-mas cookies: pre-made pastry, lot’s of sprinkles and icing.


Let me be honest here

Which is why I have decided to share, via this blog and probably even more so via Instagram, what’s really going on in our crazy house. What I want is to share some of the things that (mostly) make me laugh for all different reasons. Because, quite often, laughing is what saves me in moments where only yelling or crying would be the other option with the effect of making things far worse than they actually are. And I’d love to share those laughs and get some in return. I would like to ascertain that my growing feeling that I’m losing my mind is not just me losing my mind, but is a normal stage when living with two short dictators small kids . Parents do not have time to finish ONE SINGLE thought. I have, in fact, started losing clothes in random places, something which hasn’t happened to me since primary school. And, as you’ve also seen on my Instagram feed, we have become shoplifters.

There are so many people who show me perfectly staged moments, but this is not what I feel like. And it certainly isn’t what my life feels like.

My life feels like a highspeed race with only drunk drivers in cars without any ABS and airbags on a dark road nobody has driven on before.

Most days we’re just winging it, trying desperately not to drop too many balls. And I know (or at least I hope) that this is normal. Normal if you’re trying to have a job and kids and a relationship (and probably just as normal, if you’re at home full-time, since this comes with a whole set of expectations too). It can’t be just our apartment that – if you’re not having oodles of space, but probably even then- looks like the site where a small hurricane regularly passes through every 20 minutes.



5 minutes lie between these two states of our lounge. And unfortunaley the events didn’t unfold in the order the pictures have been placed here.


It can’t be just us that have at least five constantly pending urgent projects towards the improvement of our household of which we manage to cross off about one every 4 months? (how hard can it be to find and buy a new kitchen table? Answer: bloody damn nigh to impossible). And how are all the other Mums doing in the ongoing battle against the clothes which are too small vs. the ones that fit vs. the ones you got given by friends which are still too big (and don’t you dare to forget about these).

On the way to finding out what I want to bring across

So, I feel, I am slowly but steadily approaching the core of the matter and the core of what we are and want to be as parents and what I want this blog to be about. We’re of the average parenting* section and we do not have any ambitions to be amongst the highflyers. We’re amongst the set who are trying to survive the daily craze, do our best and enjoy the ride. And certainly the latter must be the most important part. Hell, we only get to do this once and I am sure we will one day look back and not know where that family-time has gone. So I don’t want to spend too much energy agonising over how our life might not look perfect from the outside (because it ain’t – and it is at the same time). Or how my kids are not wearing matching clothes. To be honest, these days I’m happy if Mimi #1 actually wears clothes.



This is Mimi #1 hiding as she has deemed all the clothes I presented her with as unwearable. “I don’t really like them Mum” (yes child, I know that feeling of not having anything appropriate in the wardrobe!).


I want us to make sure we put as much of US as we can into this parenting-thing. And I would love to know that there are people out there we could have a laugh with virtually. Since with kids and jobs and all, we hardly get to meet all the great friends we have in the real world in person, so why not use the great invention of Social Media?

My hopes for this blog

So I’m hoping that, over time, this blog will grow into a little community of people who also marvel about the beauty and complete crazyness of parenting. A community of funny, exhausted and above all honest humans who know that life is serious, but that you can’t take it seriously all the time. After having read this article in the Tagesanzeiger today I am, more than ever, convinced that it is so important to manage expectations also with people who aren’t yet parents. There are a lot of things which change with kids, and not always in a good way. But most of the time (really, almost always. Almost.), we wouldn’t want to go back to pre-kids era. So this is also why at the end of every post I’m urging you to share and comment, in the hope that we can all have a laugh or a cry, and something to talk about, even if you do not always agree with our approach.

*”Average Parenting” is a term and an Instagram account which I became familiar with through one of my favourite bloggers called Mommyshorts. She has just recently launched a book with that title.

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Making Room for Awesome Twosome Memories

If you follow me on Instagram (Twomimimom) you have been witness to TMD and my AWESOME twosome weekend in beautiful Arosa.

We went for a walk, for nice meals, we enjoyed our beautiful room, the out-of-this-world spa, and we skied. It has actually been around 4 years since we last skied together, which truly is ages. That was the winter before I got pregnant with Mimi #1. And since then I have either been pregnant or too busy with a baby. So it was one of those instances where we felt that we were reclaiming a morsel of our old life. Because we were once, in the pre-Mimi-era, pretty good at going for a skiing Holiday.


Not as young as we used to be, but at least we are skiing again!


Making room for two

TMD and me try to make the effort of organising a twosome extended weekend every around 4 months or so. Basically we abuse Birthdays and the likes as an excuse to spend all the money we used to spend in one week’s holiday in just two days. Of course we are very lucky in that we have the grandparents near enough and willing to help us getting this time off.

Here we go again…

It might not come as a surprise to you that always, always before those weekends, I come to the point where I can’t be asked to go. Compared to how it used to be without Mimis, it is a lot of effort getting there. Since we feel we cannot impose both the children on one grand-parenting side, we have split them up the past two times. Mimi #1 went to the in-laws and Mimi #2 went to my Mum. So far this has worked fine, though it seems Mimi #2 is starting to struggle a bit with the “single-child” setup, so we will have to see what happens next time.

Apart from the organisational effort in advance, (asking everybody if they are around and willing, booking the Hotel, figuring out who picks up which child when and packing for four persons) it is also emotionally difficult for me  in the run up. I still struggle with the guilt sometimes and it is always, always hard to say good-bye.

HOWEVER, whenever I have finally gotten over all that, it is all worth it. Always.



Have we met before?


Just this sense of freedom when it’s just the two of you in a car. No need to ruin your back twisting to search for toys which have fallen into god knows what crack somewhere in the back of the car. You just stop whenever you feel like it and grab a quick coffee. Hell, you rebel, you just get out of the car and walk away, rather than unbuckling and lifting down two short people and then crawling your way to the restaurant/shops at a snail’s pace.

Sometimes it’s just great to remember, how easy things can be. And how much there is to look forward to with the Mimis getting older.

Not as if we regret the life we have now (well, maybe just sometimes when we’ve had a rough week…), but it feels good to remember who you also are as a couple. After all, I’m hoping that when the Mimis grow older (and those baby feet no longer patter around our flat, *sob*) and eventually move out (yep, getting a bit ahead of myself here), I still want to live together with the man I married. I know there is no guarantee that this will work out. But having a weekend together is a.) great fun b.) great fund and c.) gives us the feeling that we’re actually “working” on our relationship for once, rather than just co-existing. Which, frankly, is what we do most of the time. Because it is just so easy to slip into this habit of coexistence . Our daily and weekly routine is so packed, we just want to enjoy the two to three hours of grown-up time, after the Mimis went to bed, in peace. And this “peace” does not involve twosome soul-searching. It usually involves our close family friends the TV, the Internet and the Smartphone. (or when do you imagine I’m writing this blog??)

So therefore, if you can organise it at all, I very highly recommend stretching yourselves a bit out of your comfort zone and making the effort of organising weekends, or even just one night away. Especially if you’re like us and you struggle with the “date night” setup and do this about as often as you have been waxing your legs since you had kids. Not nearly as many times as you should have.

Side-effects, wanted and unwanted ones

As a side-effect I believe that these weekends enable the grandparents to establish their own relationship with the Mimis. The grandparents can finally spoil the Mimis in any which way they like without the motherfigure constantly hovering around and rolling her eyes. In this particular instance it turned out that both grandmothers had the same idea and went to the x-mas markets in their respective neighbourhood, where they both simultaneously bought humonguous balloons which now grace our already cramped living room. On top of that, Mimi #1 insists the balloons need to “sleep” (i.e. hover) right next to their beds. I tell you, these balloons scare the sh.. out of me whenever I walk into them in the dark.  But this, of course, is a sacrifice TMD and me are willing to make.

How do you handle your twosome time? Any easy tips for notoriously lazy people such as us? (And no, I do not want to hear that being and staying a couple is hard work… even if I suspect it is)


I herewith present you with “Pinguin” and “Schneemaa” the two new inhabitants of our lounge…



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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!

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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.

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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!