I will let you in on a secret: I don´t like to cook. Some people might find it therapeutic, or creative, or even create whole blogs dedicated to that topic – to me it is just annoying. (I like eating though, I don´t disapprove of the whole concept)
But as I have kids and feel obliged to see that their nutrition is on point, and, though to a much lesser degree, because I know that my skin reacts horribly to junk food, that is a problem.
Because if you want home cooked meals full of fresh ingredients, you, well, need to cook them fresh at home.
There is an increased amount of cleaning videos showing up in my You Tube suggestions, and I have no clue why.
It can’t be based on my watch history. It can’t be based on Mr. Locas watch history either. He is really bad at remembering to switch profiles on our AppleTV, which is the reason that my feed shows as many “SUV tested in the dunes of Namibia” videos as it contains ASOS hauls, but cleaning videos surely aren’t his thing.
To be honest, I really have no clue why anyone would watch such videos anyway. Cleaning is a necessary pain, but watch others clean? What kind of masochistic behavior is that?
Or maybe it is sadistic, sitting there, cup of tea in hand, smiling at the screen: Hey gurrl, ya missed a spot there! Just sayin’!
Apparently a trend that I, once again, don’t understand and probably absolutely to my loss.
There are age categories for everything, and usually I don’t pay them much attention.
My skincare for example ranges from products aimed at teenage skin to an ampoule targeted at skin 60+ (here is the latest routine).
Age is a number and a privilege and doesn’t define us. Or does it?
A few days ago my fellow “mature” blogger Toni from Sheer Gloss and I chatted on Twitter about blogging after you reach a certain age.
Which sounds awful. Mature, certain age… I am still the one giggling at immature jokes and dancing in the kitchen at 2 am to my favorite song, I don’t spend my days knitting in a rocking chair quite yet.
But maybe I look like I do, as opposed to someone that just hit their early 20s. Which is why people in their early 20s tend to relate more to someone their age.
I really have no explanation why it always takes me so long book an appointment to get my hair done.
I mean, the experience is nothing but pleasant! Even if you leave the whole “New hair, beautiful me” – thing aside, what is not to love?
Sitting in a chair with some tea and a book for more than two hours without getting up to a) wipe up spilled milk or b) wipe a bottom or c) wipe away tears due to spilled milk or wiping a bottom is an occasion so rare, I almost forget that a long time ago every weekend was supposed to be like this.
I vow not to let 13 months pass before I venture in the world of bleach and blow drys again!
There are some struggles with motherhood that no one really prepares you for. And I am not talking sleepless nights and complete loss of privacy here.
I talk about the struggles you face when your kids develop their own taste and it is completely different to yours.
“It is a phase!” is what people tell me, and I cling on to that hope like a drowning woman. Because right now all my daughter wants is pink, glitter and unicorns. And if you know me just a little, pink, glitter and unicorns are not my style.
They used to be though, as I faintly remember. When I was around six, I had set my heart on having a princess party for my birthday, and I wanted a pink dress and pink glitter and a plastic crown to wear.
Do birthdays in your family also come in multiples?
We have seven to celebrate from February 7th to March 12th, then months with only a few sprinkled in, and then again four within three weeks time starting October.
Needless to say that birthdays and party planning are keeping me occupied right now. Mine has come and gone, with no celebration due to the fact that I was a) sick and b) turning 39, which didn’t feel like a huge milestone.
Next up is my daughters, she will be four tomorrow. Seriously, I cannot believe how time flies, it feels like yesterday when she was born. Heck, it feels like yesterday when I was crying on my living room floor because my then ob-gyn had told me I was most likely never going to get pregnant.
I have stated it numerous times before: I do not make resolutions, goals or whatever you will call them on New Years Eve.
In fact I don’t make resolutions. Ever. And I don’t actively decide on goals.
I am a Type A personality. Goals are my living, breathing existence.
Which confused Mr. Loca when he recently asked for my blogging strategy and got “Well, I don’t know… I guess it is just fun.” as an answer. After a moment of disbelief he started to laugh at me and, (quite rightly) said: “You never do things just for fun.”
February is usually a pretty exciting month for me. I mean, we all do expect a little bit of action around our birthday, don´t we?
Well, for the last few years my birthday was a pretty low key event. In fact the last big celebration with friends was when I turned 30. To explain that, let me quickly walk you through the years that followed.