Never been a fan of Disney movies. Bambi, Lion King – parents die, Sleeping Beauty waiting for her true love sleeping prior to serving 7 other men (O.K., I know, it’s Grimm’s story originally). Yes,  I understand all of them tell beautiful stories of being strong and believing your dreams but I could always find something wrong about each of them. Well, not always wrong, but not quite right.

My first and only (up to this day) favourite one was for a long time was Princess and the Frog with its beautiful Almost There song (no, it’s not a chanting tune for during sex), very close to my heart. And now, Moana joins this short list.

Perhaps it’s a commercial grasp of the moment (as it’s usually the case) , as Christy Lemire says: “Moana would have been enormously entertaining regardless of when it came out, but its arrival at this particular moment in history gives it an added sense of significance—as well as inspiration.” but Moana takes every girl to walk with her arm in arm, with their doubts, good, gentle hearts,

She’s strong, kind and beautiful, willing to learn, loving her family, devoted to her community, doubting herself but listening to her heart which is entwined with her intelligence. She’s the woman. She’s every single woman. Ridiculed by some big muscle demi-god:

“You are gonna stay here with the other chicken.”

“Daughter of the chief.
I thought you stayed in the village.
You know, kissing babies and things.”

“If you wear a dress and have an animal sidekick, you are a princess.

And she puts up with this. And she makes him a better man.

For all of you ladies:


Beautiful and sexy can go very well together with strength, sporty, intelligent.


New Year’s Reflections 

For some New Year’s celebration is just a commercial fad and peer pressure to have fun. To me the end of a year has always been a big hope for a fresh start with whatever is important to me. Hope that I realised is more of a disruption in life rather than a spur. I still do think that if hope is misunderstood as just sitting and praying for a better fate it will just f*** up your life. I very often got stuck in a rut because of this type of hope. I find it more refreshing to clap for yourself for the past year and to get armoured for the new one. Action, no stills!2015 for me was The Year. It brought me back to life. My persistence and stubbornness paid and probably lots of TLC to myself and my body because without healthy body and mind it would never happen. Who knows. But if it would have been this one more year without my baby God knows where I would have been. Would I still be? Because it was torture. And to those who struggle with what I have – before Arya was born I never spoke about my struggle, I never sought help (because I never expect others to help me, I was born this way; making Sanj do the chores is a different story 🙂 ) I just want to say I’m here and I can offer hugs and my story but you probably are crying right now and hate me just how I did – those who were lucky in this department. And it’s absolutely normal. To everyone else – leave people alone with your stupid comments and questions:”When will you have children?” Or “Do you not want to have children?” Stick these comments deep into your ass! You don’t know the pain! If you’re making a list of your resolutions – this one should be your priority! This is directed to all the aunts, parents, in-laws, nosy “friends” and “fake” aunties! Think before you speak!

And in regards to my resolutions? Now that I’m alive, my mind unblocked, my heart healed, wings fully fastened and ready to take me around the universe I am doing this exercise my very dear friend Kavish Rajpaul taught me and I find it brilliant. I’m writing down a list of achievements I want to happen by the end of 2016 in a form that I’ve already accomplished them and put the list away for 12 months. On 31 December 2016 – let’s see how many of them will have been done. 

I always say to myself: 

“The key here is to work hard because life doesn’t owe anything and no pleading prayer is a magic wand. Remember about the balance (this is so tricky so one needs a significant other or a family member to help with it and always be on guard for you – that’s what they are for) – the balance of your body, mind, soul and everyday life. Balance of entertainment and hard work, balance of adrenaline and chill, balance of self-indulgence and charity… And family is the most important circle in my life so I must look after each and every member of it like there’s no tomorrow. Because it might never come… Fight for each and every member of your family! Fight for this love as Cheryl sings 😉” 

And one more thing about the New Year Reflections – Life isn’t what it is. Life is what you think it is. Huh? Good one, huh?

Now go and make your own life in 2016 !

Your Sunday Craze

Last Sunday was supposed to be a family day. I spent most Saturday styling while Arya was NOT missing me and having fun with her daddy. So at least yesterday was left for family of three extravaganza. As life has it, Arya was restless the whole of that night waking me up every 15 minutes (I’m actually not sure if I even slept) which resulted in the waking dead mode yesterday. So “having fun” ship has sailed, I would say and all I was trying to do was to not run into a brick wall to knock myself out, drank 3 coffees, tried going back to bed when Sanj took over “nanny-ing” our baby and even went for a run. Nothing helped. NOTHING!!! And cranky was my new fun. I still was doing my best to make that day count. We had a lunch booked in the Oval at the Wellesley Hotel and a glass of champagne came to the rescue for approximately one hour. It numbed the pain or maybe fooled my brained that I was OK. Someone enjoyed the food for sure though:    

Coming back home was very much desired because suddenly I regained my sleepiness and, you might think it is impossible, I was passed out during most of my walking. As my baby suffers from (I should probably say that it’s me who suffers, Arya not so much) detachment anxiety, instead of chilling on the sofa for most of the afternoon (which felt like the middle of the night) I was a designated trampoline (my belly) and a walking pole (my leg). My nipple has recently also changed its function as Arya now believes she can take my boob and walk with it as if it was a cup of Coke with a straw. I don’t think you have ever seen a baby breast-feeding from a standing position, half bent and leaning over a boob sucking the stretched nipple. The view – hilarious. The feeling – far from amusement. 

Oh and there came in Bastian, jumped casually on the sofa, straight from the wet garden convinced that he is simply helping me to find some entertainment. Because I’m perfectly fit for cleaning the paw mud spots off the couch. 

Oh and then I see Sanj standing on a puffs seat fiddling with the wall lamp and in the next second he is on a carpet in a lying position groping the carpet.

“Oh for gods sake, what did you do? And why now?”

I was really irritate. Almost as irritated as before leaving to the restaurant when I was banging the wardrobe doors shouting that I have nothing to wear and I’m not going. Sleep deprivation is a perfect excuse for tantrums. You’re not thinking straight, you feel all depressed and what else the life is throwing at you… 

So San-Jay is lying on the carpet and I have this odd need to ask why. And I do: “What the hell are you doing?

– Looking for a screw! Replied my husband with a large frown on his forehead and that’s a sign of a very very overheated brain from thinking. But why? Not much thinking is involved during a search for a screw. Unless… Unless it was “I’m blind” frown. Which definitely makes more sense. Also he got a bit pissed off that I’m questioning his (let’s face it: weird) behaviour.

– What screw?! What did you do?

– the screw. I heard it falling on the wood once and then it must have fell somewhere else. I don’t want Arya to find it and choke on it. 

On that he stood up and moved his search to the sideboard and the mantelpiece. Again – groping all the surfaces. I still didn’t get why the hell he was looking for a bloody screw. Luckily he continued: “I wanted to unscrew this lamp to wash it because it has been bothering me all the time and now that Chris is coming to do this work at our house I thought it was a good opportunity for me to do that. 

Certainly the motif did not speak to me. AT ALL.

Chris is a man who was scheduled for today to do some finishing touches on the wallpaper and other bits and bobs. Definitely not the wall lamp that Sanj was dabbling with. Can’t see the connection. And especially not after sleepless night. I just announced that I ain’t looking for no screw and lost a total interest in my husband’s actions. Until he started searching drawers and my bag. Then I burst out laughing (internally because on the outside my facial nerves were out of order and not able to make any motion). Because we have robot screws. Transformers, so to speak. One minute they are mere screws and the other – they unfold their wheels and wings and tiny dexterous hands to hide in closed spaces. 

All our furniture were shifted, including the sofa with my body on it. I was just making sure that Arya didn’t fall of me while jumping and banging her head against my belly. Other than that – be as it is. 

– I found it – I heard at some point but at that time I was preparing my tired body to get up and land in the bedroom. 

Yesterday was supposed to be a fun family day and in its twisted, new mum way it really was. I can laugh only now though.

Separation Anxiety- Mine or Hers?

I was looking forward to this event for months. Planned the outfit weeks before and changed it entirely at the last minute. The makeup artist was booked and ideas exchanged on a regular basis. The evening finally came. My husband’s cousin kindly agreed to come and watch Arya while I was undergoing a facial makeover so all was sorted and planned to the very end. Yeah right, planned my ass. You can plan as you want but when you have a baby you can take this plan and shove it deep into your… Well you know where I’m getting to. Surely not to a rosy fields with unicorns strolling freely. As soon as the make up artist came Arya turned on “cry hard” mode and no distraction, no ignoring strategy worked. The crying was unbelievable. Sorry, I meant unbearable. To me. Everyone was nodding their heads calming me down: “It’s fine. She’s going to be ok. All babies are like that”. But I can’t. I simply can’t go past that. You see your baby all covered in tears, sniffing her nose, so sad and upset, turning her head from left to right trying to find you and you’re not there, her heart pumping hard. No one can convince me that such moments don’t affect them. I will not believe that. Yes they don’t remember that one day their mummy left them for a few hours and they were scared she would never come back. But the feeling, the emotions – they must affect them when they are older one way or the other. Subconsciously. Without knowing their source. I’m sure every single emotion felt since the conception (or the first time their nervous system can transport any impulse) does have its record and representation in our behaviour. 

So I was getting palpitations. The makeup artists says: “close your eyes” I’m staring at her blankly, completely melted and itchy to run to Arya. Guilt is nothing comparing to the feeling inside me but at the same time I do want to go. I can’t compromise myself so I must be brave.

Arya joined me for the most part of preparations in the form of a lump stuck to my leg or on my lap very much not helping the situation. Thank you Ana for being so patient and understanding. And to have a result like this with all these obstacles – it’s simply talent.

 I left without even saying goodbye to my baby and spent the whole evening texting Sanj every five minutes asking if she was ok. Of course she was. She was with her daddy – a master of putting babies to sleep. 

No sooner did I arrived at the London Coliseum my baby had already been in bed and didn’t even wake up when I was back at midnight. That said, never have I been so torn in my entire life. Just a year ago I would have gone crazy at the British Fashion Awards, so excited as if I drank 10 coffees (I know because I’ve already been in such a state and yes it was related to fashion ), last Monday though my emotions were all over the place. And my poor friend, who attended the event with me had to put up with my texting and worrying. You would think I’ve got a text template: “Is she Ok?” And Sanj: “Yes” on our iPhones. Or we have programmed Siri to send these auto messages to each other every 5 minutes. But I missed her. That was it. I missed her. I watched Stella McCartney receiving her award and at the same time I was imagining Arya sleeping cozily in our bed and I wanted be near her, to hold her hand or just watch her sleep (as creepy as it sounds). 

I made it to the final though and even drinks after. 

I guess that’s how my life will be from now on – torn and never enjoying anything fully unless with her. How long does this phase last? A few more months?18 years? Half of a century? Anyone? Please tell me. I need to prepare myself for it.

First Aid Course

  It’s been almost 10 months and only yesterday I attended a First Aid course. Thankfully, Arya has been protected by some energy and apart from a few falls on her bum and bumps on the head she has been all right. Nevertheless, the course was a must and I managed to organise one with Daisy First Aid trainer at the house of one our Meetup mums. 

As it was Sunday, I preferred Arya to spend time with Sanj while I devote my whole learning ability to the training. Otherwise I would have probably ended up running around with Arya instead of cracking imaginary ribs of the dummies. It’s always the case – all other babies sit still or sleep and mine is all over the place. You name the most bizarre and the least obtainable place – Arya has already been there. Yes, I’m exaggerating (slightly) but you know what I’m trying to say.

I won’t lie – a few scenarios raised my pulse to such a rate that I thought they would be practicing resuscitation on me. I made it though and I feel so much more confident. This is the only course in my life that I wish I will never have to refer to. NEVER!

So my Sunday was a bit gloomy but beneficial gloomy, I could say. Right after that I rushed for my spray tan appointment because (whoop whoop) a big evening is coming in a few hours – The British Fashion Awards.

Play Time with Meetup Mums

My whole pregnancy was a total scare… about miscarriage. Having gone through two of them (even though they both were in the 1st trimester – yes, they are a traumatic experience even though from the medical perspective this is just  a”another one bites the dust” thing) a mere thought of having another one was a nightmare and since the day I found out I got pregnant until the moment my little baby came out of me I was in a constant fear mode. This is why I avoided anything related to pregnancy or anything that could prepare me for welcoming my Arya to this world. No pregnancy clothes (not a single piece), no pregnancy related classes, no meetings with other pregnant women. Absolutely nothing. A – to not jinx it (as ridiculous as it sounds, to those who have never experienced such a bumpy journey) and B – because if I had miscarried how would I handle even looking at all that I purchased for the baby that never came). Besides most of those long loooong months I had nausea that continued from dawn to dusk, anaemia and exhaustion (from what????) so a very thought of making one extra step into the outside world made me wanna cry involuntarily (?!?!). I therefore spent most of my pregnancy time resting and staring blankly at the TV because that’s all my body and mind could handle.

As soon as Arya arrived (and all the symptoms disappeared literally with the first contraction – I remember that very clearly because I found it so bizarre), my wings got healed instantly and after years of my zombie life I finally could fly. Well, metaphorically of course but Arya’s birth made me WANT TO fly (among all other things). To skip the poetic descriptions and to say it straight – I simply got reborn, got my will to live back and got myself back. Being able to now meet the world and people, I stepped into a phase of “baby world testing” and started attending various baby clubs, joined mum groups on the Internet, spoke to random people on the street!(yes, I do do that, when I’m not in depression of course, and I don’t find it bonkers, which probably, to many of you, makes me bonkers). This testing thing is a continuous thing – I believe that I should try as many things in life as possible (read: as my budget, energy, time allow me), especially for my baby, in order to observe and decide based on all these observations which tested things I choose to focus on for one reason or the other.

And I found this Meetup group (after trying to connect to a couple of others) – Bumps and New Mums Meetings in Notting Hill where I felt I belong to. You know it’s like when you hear people say this cliché phrase – “like-minded people” when they want to meet someone in relation to a specific activity (training 5 days a week, listening to loud music without earphones on, being all chatty in the morning or being a parent) . You then think what do you mean “like-minded” I want the same things, I do the same things, am I “like-minded”? Well, it always needs a bit more elaboration because after meeting mums here and there, I realised that being a new mum doesn’t make you like-minded with all the other new mums. To me it’s who they are behind the mum’s mask and  where they live (not only for the commuting purposes, but most importantly because of the demographics stereotypes which very often are unmistakeable). I went through the Meetup description, the comments of the members and the schedule of the past events and I think in July was my first time in this group. From then on, we (yes, now I’m “we”) meet regularly (as much as my baby, my body and mind and work allow me) and love it, made friends, gained support and have been providing some sort of stimulation for Arya because, although the very meetups are only for us ladies (not the little ones), there are various activities for our babies organised (by a real trooper, Marion – the Meetup founder). Just like this one. The mat spread on the floor and toys shared (mostly from mouth to mouth because the majority of these little dwarfs are in the teething stage so they chew on anything 3D). At the moment of course there’s not much cooperation between the players, all to themselves I would say, but that’s the beauty of this stage. What’s more important though is the fact that they are given the opportunity to spend time between their peers and I’m sure their little brains are processing some very important information based on who they see and how those who they see behave. It doesn’t look like it in any of those photos, I know. It’s like each of them are in their own world. The world of “oh-itch-me-see-a-thingy-that-can-help-so-I-put-it-where-it-itch” but that’s fine.

Arya recently has been going through this extra selfish stage (I’m saying “extra” because babies until they are toddlers of 2 years old are self-centred by nature and Arya is topping up in this department) ; she starts crying when there are other babies around and/ I speak to other babies or mums. As soon as I leave the room with her, the screaming stops. Then she signals (with grunting) she wants to go down on her very own feet so she slides off me on to the floor, grabs my hands from behind and demands to walk. She will follow adults until they notice her and communicate with her. That’s her element – getting attention of grownups. No different it was here yesterday. Can you see how in the first two photos she’s tilting her head – she’s trying to call (in her own baby way) the lady on her left.

The group is awesome and I’m so glad I found it. Fun for the babies, fun for the mums, learning experience for the babies, learning experience for the mums and a great support circle.


Baby Show

Let’s start with the negatives, ok? Who the hell was in charge of the logistics at the show. Baby show = lots of buggies and bumps, right? What about the facilities and space to accommodate the visitors? Why would you have a flat surface leading to a cafe if you can have stairs? Why would you have wider paths between the rows of stands if you can stash as many exhibitors as possible, most of whom were buggy and pusher providers.

I was also disappointed there were not many toys, books or clothes brands and that the area with carriers which I so badly wanted to test was too crowded. It seems that the main audience this show was addressed to were expectant parents (perhaps it’s obvious but I’m a newbie here) so buggies, more buggies and nursery furniture.

OK, there. I had my “rant time”. Negative energy is out of my system so here’s what I found interesting :

  • although now 8.5 too late – stem cell storing services – why didn’t I think about it earlier. Still, got a brochure, just in case ;). Fascinating and hopeful for saving family if, life forbids, this will ever be necessary.
  • baby/kids nail polish – miss Nella – despite San-Jay cringing and almost with a crying voice begging “no, babe, please don’t do that to her”, I was really very tempted to get a packet of three. I find it cute, what can I say. Perhaps because since I remember I was always a tomboy (interesting enough as it is) until I left home and became a grown-up studying/working human. Until that time you could have only find me on a bicycle, wearing t-shirts andjeans, pixie hairstyle on my head. No nail polish in my drawers, no dolls on the shelves, no heels stolen from my mum’s wardrobe. And now look at me, I’m a bloody stylist and on top of that I secretly pain my baby’s nails. Yes, I said it. I’ve done it, all right. So it’s very likely that Miss Nella will gain another client in near future.
miss nella – nail polish
  • Squiz – reusable pouches for squishy food – a French brand- got a set of three with an extra teat. I think I will love it for a very long time. Nutribullet some food for Arya, squash it into the pouch and I’m ready to go. So excited about it, especially now that I’m weaning my baby off the boobiecino (as San-Jay calls breast-milk)

  • Love boo – natural baby skin products – since my (sorry, Arya’s) bathing liquid finished I decided to try Love boo and got her the head-to-toe wash. Let’s see how it is. The good thing is that Arya doesn’t have any skin problems or allergies so I don’t need to worry about that. All I want is natural ingredients only and this brand ticks this box so now it’s just the preference matter. Will see 

It was a good day overall. Just wish I could have purchased a buggy organiser or just a cup holder and tested some more carriers but I guess both Stokke and Babybjorn are very similar anyway.

I would like to say “Till next year” but at that time my baby will be a toddler already. Too fast. All this growing up deal is happening too fast. Sigh…