Posted by sol in prattle
Today I spent 3 hours in the car, practically all by myself, since Santiago seems to sleep comfortably and a lot with the sound of a good old Opel Astra. I could do nothing but brood over life, and so I did. I was in a crappy mood and I found it hard not to concentrate on all those things that feed the malaise. From the pettiest things like being broke and purposeless, to deeper things like being so disconnected from my brother and far from mother, or so still attached to memories of the distant past in Mexico. Even so, a couple of happy thoughts struck me in the middle of all that. The first was that I wasn’t an unhappy child, at least not as much as one would’ve expected, and that’s because happy or unhappy depends a lot on what you are and not only on what you experience. I see my children and I know that my deepest want is that they are happy, but it will depend not only on how much I sing to them, or play with them or smile to them, but also on whether they choose to be happy. And I think that in spite of all my melancholy ambitions I’ve always chosen to smile back at life.
Here I thought the second happy thought. I love sewing. Sewing makes me happy. And it makes me happy because I managed to find pleasure in something that doesn’t bring happy memories: my grandmother used to sew quite a lot when I was growing up with her, and she was always particularly short tempered when she did. I was eager to learn, but she was overly jealous of her sewing machine and made the task seem more difficult than it is. She never really taught me or encouraged me to learn, all because she didn’t want to waste the life of the machine’s light bulb. She claimed that they didn’t make those anymore.
And so I realized how a great part of my life has consisted in making good things out of bad things, even when it is extremely painful and annoying to be so virtuous.
A while ago, more than a year ago to be honest, I bought this pattern:
and I finally overcame the fear and got around doing it. I tried view C, but the sleeves went awry so I just improvised. For being my first “”creation”" I’m very satisfied. I used a beautiful linen and a lovely mother-of-pearl button.
I love this one.
Santiago turned three months old today. What’s not to love about this little fellow? He’s all eyelashes and cheeks and funny pouts. He laughs a lot, sleeps a lot, weighs a lot. We can’t wait till he’s old enough to play with Damiano and at the same time wish he stayed forever that cuddly little chunker he is. I look back (reluctantly) at the weeks before his birth and feel so lucky and so stupid, what was I worrying about? I’m so thankful to my friend Katie for being there with me and making his birth such an amazing experience, and for all the breastfeeding advice and non-advice. I never thought breastfeeding could be such a pleasant, easy, satisfying, empowering experience. I’m pretty sure that successful breastfeeding is a great way to send those baby blues away (which by the way I had none of this time). I’m no expert, but here are my two cents in that regard:
- trust yourself. your body will produce the milk your baby needs
- don’t freak out
- use the darn lanolin on the nipples, because I won’t lie, the first two weeks or so, nipples hurt like hell
- be patient, sometimes it will take the baby 4 minutes to be satisfied, sometimes it will take him 40
- burp the wee one
- for the first two weeks avoid pacifiers, then use those expensive ones that trick the baby into thinking he’s sucking a nipple
- during the first month or so your breasts are learning how much milk the baby needs, so that time is crucial to “program” them properly. During this time don’t pump and don’t supplement. If the baby is hungry just offer the breast. That way the boob will know it has to turn on the dairy plant.
- remember that when you are feeding you are giving warmth and tenderness, not only calories. Enjoy it. Look at your baby and think: he’s made up of me.
- If you have questions go to Kelly Mom
A while ago I had mounted a little shelf on Damiano’s room to keep all his books in one place and encourage him to pick them up and get excited about them. Problem was that he had too many books and they kept falling off said shelf. Also, the shelf was taking up space in the room and now that I want to move Santiago in with Damiano I needed to rearrange the whole room.
So I went to Obi in Innsbruck, and I bought some pieces of wood, a couple of bits of hardware and I finally took care of the book problem in the room. I rearranged the bed and the crib, and now there’s room for both my sweeties and their books.
It took me exactly one hour, start to finish. I bought a fantastic little tip (edited to add: my mother tells me this is called a forstner bit) for the drill that digs 2 cm holes in wood. (addictive stuff, really… I have to stop myself now from making holes in everything right now)
With it I made 4 holes in the side planks, where I inserted the rods. Then I screwed the horizontal planks and the sides together. The whole thing is attached to the wall and it cost me 15 euros all in all.
I also cut a section from the side planks in order to avoid the baseboard and allow the bookcase to be flush against the wall. Here, I admit, I did a shoddy job.
When I have some free time I’ll paint it white because all the furniture in the room is white so a small lick is in order.
I think my favorite tool after the oven is the drill. Nothing is more satisfying than making your own furniture.
I’m enjoying this summer much, even if we’re just staying home and doing nothing special, I’m loving it. I’m enjoying cuddling my baby and witnessing how he changes everyday. Damiano is also growing fast, becoming a big bright bold boy (take that, alliteration). He’s simply amazing to watch, he’s never still. There’s always something worth exploring, always something exciting. And at the same time, he can me unadvertently sweet and tender. When I look at my two children I can almost touch my love for them and it makes me want more and more. I can sort of understand the octomom.
That ball was filled with lead beads.
Posted by sol in friends
Today Zuc & Ale came over for lunch and to lure my hubby into working for them on his spare time, yeah right: the man’s got a family you nutheads. Anyway, we had a very nice day and this is what the living room looked like after lunch. God bless WiFi.
or at least, this hat reminds me of the one the pope wears sometimes, which I’m sure has a name, but anyway. I just wanted to be irreverent like that. Oh and while I’m at it: this is me as a baby:
I think we can safely call it a tie between Mr & Mrs Cheeks.
Posted by sol in reviews
It’s been a while since I’ve blogged a book review, I think the last one was back in January 2007 days before Damiano was born. Partly because I haven’t read half as much as I used to, partly because I hadn’t read anything review-worthy.
Today I finished reading the two thousand one hundred pages of Stieg Larsson’s Millennium trilogy, and I thought it deserved a review. In spite of its very very bad writing.
To be honest, I wish I could read Swedish to see if it is really that way or if it is only the Italian translation to be, in one word, awful. But how can you go through 2100 pages of bad writing in one week? Well, the story is engrossing to say the least. The characters have immense potential even if they’re poorly developed, and this I actually like because my imagination can do great things for them. The author’s crime news style doesn’t do them any justice, and it is annoying at times. Moreover, the 2100 pages would be far less if some useless subplots were dropped. But nonetheless, these three books are very very, very hard to put down. And that’s one of the reasons, besides my offspring, the blog has been a bit abandoned. It doesn’t surprise me one bit, the success these books are having. I mean, there’s almost anything you can think of: hackers, lots of occasional sex, lesbianism, incest, satanism, mafia, drugs, rapes, punks, corrupt psychiatrists, russian spies, killings, money, mistery, drama, and lots and lots of coffee. If you count the times the characters go for a coffee, prepare coffee, drink coffee or say they need coffee, you’d get to the conclusion that coffee is the main character of this trilogy.
The author poor soul died of a heart attack before he could enjoy his success, and left many of us wanting for more of his bad writing.
I highly reccomend these books if you don’t have a job, kids or a life. If you happen to have all three, they’re still good fun. (though the better half and the kids won’t agree)