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No, you can not put your head through that fence!

I’ve been a mother for over half my life and throughout the years I think the word I’ve used most (and I’m sure my children will agree) is, NO!

It begins when they’re just babies crawling around on the floor with, “No, don’t put that in your mouth,” and doesn’t stop until one day you’re screaming, “No, you can not get a tattoo!”

We’ve all heard our children complaining, “You always say, no,” and we’ve complained about our own mother’s always saying no. We say it because it’s our job and it’s for their own good. Well, at least most of the time it’s for their own good.

I personally, hate saying no to my children. I want to give them everything. I want them to not just love me, but to like me too. I want to be their friend but instead, I’m their mother.

The good news is, once they grow up and have children of their own, they get it. 🙂

As you can see this doesn’t only apply to us human moms…

I call these two the brothers Grimm, they are always getting they're heads stuck in the fence and they're mother does not look happy!

I call these two the Brothers Grimm, they’re always getting their heads stuck in the fence and their mother does not look happy!

A demanding house guest

 

I feel as if I’ve been living in a cocoon this past week. My nine-week-old baby granddaughter stayed with me while her family was on vacation. They went to Lego Land in Denmark, which is not exactly the best place to take a small baby. I volunteered and was looking forward to all the great bonding time I’d be getting with her. What I hadn’t thought about is how time consuming one little baby girl could be!

I was just back from America and hadn’t even unpacked my suitcases when my little house guest arrived. A car load of baby gear was soon moved in, and a long list of instructions, hung on the refrigerator.

She slept all night, from around eleven in the evening until seven in morning and boy do I know how lucky I was! Especially since I was wrestling with a touch of jet lag myself. However, from that first morning bottle until the last, the day belonged to her.

She took short little catnaps throughout the day, which never lasted more than twenty minutes or so. And when she did sleep there was plenty for me to do…

Her clothes had to be washed separately.

Bottles sterilized.

Formula mixed.

One bottle got vitamin drops, while another got malt extract added to it.

I also made up a bottle of fennel tea which she drank a little of in the evenings to help fight colic. (you can tell she’s my granddaughter, already drinking tea)

When she was awake, besides giving bottles, burping and changing diapers, I took her for a walk in the carriage everyday.

She also needed to lay on her belly a few times a day, to get used to holding her head up. (she didn’t like that)

She had a stuffy nose, so I had to put drops in five times a day.

She had a bath every other day, but needed to be cleaned up every morning.

She had to be dressed for the day and pajamas put on in the evening.

Her skin was dry and needed lotion rubbed on her twice a day.

For her entertainment (thats right even at nine-weeks, we humans need to be entertained)

The #1 thing was the vibrating, bouncy chair. Especially if she could see what I was doing while sitting in it, or see the television (no comments on that please)

#2 the baby gym. It’s a square mat with toys hanging over.  A blinking, musical star hung right in the middle and she could stare at that star for a good half hour. The only problem was the music only played for five minutes, I would therefore, run back and forth, turning it on again and again!

#3 if all else failed, rock, carry ,walk and soothe her. I’d say we walked quite a few miles last week.

I was amazed by how much work went into a baby, and wondered how I ever manage to do it myself – FIVE times!!??!!

Now that she’s gone home to her family, all I can think about is her smile, how good she felt in my arms, that sweet baby smell and how much I love her… Oh, now I remember how I did it.