A Room of One's Own

vent.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 20 Mar 2015 08:33:00 +0000

Social conventions always bothered me, and there is no worse place for that than family parties. Those parties you see relatives you only see twice a year or less, and everyone behaves so superficially, not because it is their fault, but it is just how they learnt to behave from an early age. They ask how you were, and how your trip was, and they don't really mean to know the answer, they expect instead those very same superficial answers disguised in positive adjectives. So you put on your social mask and go on, and they smile and nod and we mutually pretend life is perfect. Funny see people's reactions when you tell the truth. "No, the train ride sucked, she refused to nap and screamed most of the time and threw various temper tantrums in a row.". "How's my thesis going? It sucks, I haven't reached half of the pages I'm supposed to write and there is less than two months for the deadline". "I haven't slept in over a year". "Worst trip ever."

Regarding tantrums and terrible 2's, why is it called terrible twos when it starts much earlier? hahahaha... I'm not even complaining so much, it gets much worse, I sense it. Sleep is not even much og a big deal these days, I think I've gotten used to 6 hours of sleep each night, and my body is now used to waking up several times in the middle of the night. It is bad when she screams for one hour in a row like last night, between 00:30-01:30), or wakes up and wants to play, even after nursing. We went through a tough developmental leap that lasted for months where this happened daily, but it seems things are better. I partially own that to sticking to a montessori floor bed (the crib is long gone in this household), and (utterly expensive) reflexology sessions. Regarding her screams and crying, let me put it like this; it sounds as if she was locked in her bedroom with an anaconda that hasn't had a meal in weeks. We know that is how it is, but to people from the outside (aka every-fucking-one) she is either in severe pain or very ill. LOL.

And then suddenly it stops, like everything it doesn't last forever - luckily. Like a volcano eruption or a tsunami. Anyway, the point of this whole post is how much I despise family parties, it seriously makes me wish for a zombie apocalypse, like The Walking Dead (the comics, not the series). Suddenly life would have a lot more meaning. Seeing the weak being swallowed by the plague, the Carols of the world giving up. But zombie apocalypse with a baby, I'd sure need my ergo and the chicco liteway, or a jogger stroller. Too bad I'm in such a bad shape. Sofia wouldn't even be afraid of those stinky ugly faces, she would probably grab their rotten hairs and stick a finger in what's left of their noses. Yes, I've gotten one of those rare babies who hardly cry for ordinary 'baby reasons'. Who falls down and stands up right away, even if hitting the head on the floor. Who terrifies the others babies at daycare (God, why?). Who slips my hand and goes her own way every single time. Who basically is not afraid at all. Who has had her shares of bruises I'm not even sure where it comes from. Here at home we coined our own designation for her: the kamikaze-baby.

From the series introverts should not have children unless they can afford a daytime nanny.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Thu, 26 Jun 2014 16:36:00 +0000

So I read this on the fussy and colic babies support page on facebook (I am not alone) and can already picture my life a few years from now. Is this perhaps why I am always so drained for energy? As an introvert I always valued time alone, even my husband could get on my nerves sometimes, so what to say of my literally overly attached-to-me baby? Ok, she is just a (high need) baby, I get it. But then if this 'no time alone' pattern continues throughout her childhood, I'm certainly screwed. Looking forward to her teen years. And yup, she does love being out and about (picture above), even it means to be overly tired afterwards and screaming her heart out to make it a point.

Expectations x Reality: one big laugh

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Thu, 22 May 2014 17:43:00 +0000

Writing this with a teething high need baby nursing, so be aware of the lack of grammatic coherence in the text.

Before becoming a mom, I had a certain idea of how I would handle everyday life things, the 'toughest' part I could picture were sleepless nights, because that is what most of people (my own mom included) seem to slightly mention concerning parenthood. The time spent with my newborn would be rather joyful, afterall all you need to do is nurse, then they sleep like two or three hours straight, then you change a diaper, and go on with your life, how hard could it be? LOL.

You know how I got this naive idea? Observing. Looking around. Hearing. At the gym. At cafés. In airplanes and airports. Travelling. And everywhere else where normal human beings spend their daily lives. Who to blame? The easy babies. They do exist, and they are apparently everywhere. The easy babies and their moms. It is now easy for me to spot the easiest baby on the block. It is usually that one that even after half hour baby swimming, calmly lies down inside its lift, while the mother combs her wet hair. This is provocation. Who the heck has time to hair styling after a baby swimming lesson?? I'm lucky if I can have a quick soap free shower just to rinse off the stinky water away from my skin. Shortly followed by my screaming baby who protests no matter how short it is the time she has to be 'on her own' while I dress myself, gather our things and hold five things in my hands (baby included) while exiting the dressroom. In the meantime my hair looks like a 80s' pop singer's hairdo (a nigtmare called 'let the unwashed wet hair dry on its own'). Haha.

Easy babies and my false expectations during my pre-baby life. They are the ones sleeping in the cafés, usually inside a lift or even outside in their prams (in Denmark it is common sense to leave one's baby outside a café while the mother enjoys a meal - possibly wine or a cocktail included, since this is ok here as well). Sleeping while the mother can leisurely hold a normal conversation with a friend, how convenient. Haha.

Easy babies and my false expectations concerning coming back to shape. I thought I would be back to the gym just as soon as my doctor gave me her 'ok, go for it'. After all how many times have I seen those little babies in their strollers, awake and serene while the mother lifts weight and during breaks even talk to her gym pal. How hard can this be? Hahaha.

Travelling. Always a child screaming, but these are usually toddlers. Babies are always soooo quiet. Even while waiting for embarking, even if it takes forever. And so many blog posts I once read mentioning how it is just fine and actually the most perfect time in one's child life to travel while they are just babies. Hahahahaha.

Conclusion. Easy babies are everywhere. These were the ones whom I thought were the average babies, the ones I looked at and thought 'aww how cute, I want one too'. The difficult ones, the high need ones, the colicky ones, these are inside their home with a mother terrified to step out of the door, while struggling with ppd and God knows what else. They are the ones who behave the opposite in the previously described situations. The very opposite. These are like my baby.

Before I forget.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 25 Apr 2014 18:51:00 +0000

You know what would be wonderful? To be able to afford a top shrink, the psychoanalyst kind, that sits there and hardly say anything, while you just vomit words for one hour straight. Twice a week. Fact is I wouldn't have time anyway, even if I could - $$$$$ - go. Sometimes I think I'm getting crazy, little by little. My mood these days is like a rollercoaster. I can go from serenity to rage in a matter of minutes, from happiness to depression even faster. Nothing seems to help, of course I've tried opening up - to my partner, one close friend - who happens to live overseas, as I have no close friends in Denmark, a couple of health professionals, strangers in a therapy group… nothing helps. NOTHING.

I've become a mother. I should be happy-happy according to everyone in the world and the cover of mommy/baby magazines. "Isn't it lovely?" - I've been asked more than once. I hesitate to answer, but always bluntly answer what everyone expects to hear.

There's a pattern of feelings that turn to explode like a H bomb. Feelings I've not quite experienced before, not that way. A mixture of guilt, pride, joy and sadness all at once.

With motherhood it comes frustration. Frustration because you can hardly control anything in your life anymore, and I'm more or less the control freak kind. Example 1 - after another sleepless night and a day that starts at 6am, a typical day, where your high need nearly five month year old baby girl won't nap, unless you stroll around the boring surroundings of your neighbourhood while she peacefully sleeps in her pram - for one hour - and you're hungry - cause it is soon noon and you should get some lunch, considering you didn't really have a decent breakfast (who has the time?), but there's no left overs and again - there will be no time to cook something - so you just starve for one hour, after all it is worth it, and she can have some sleep, instead of those power naps in the crib or sleeping in your arms as she pleases, while you cannot go and pee, cause if you do, she will wake up, and if she does, you will have to start all over again - nursing her to sleep, because baby uses me as a human pacifier. So you're home, and you play together, because she cannot play on her own without crying of frustration for losing her toy and not being able to hold it again, so you're there to hand it right away in order to not hear that piercing crying once again. And then there's feeding, the third poop nappy change of the day, and more feeding, and more "I don't want to nap" crying-screaming, and more nursing, because now it is not only about soothing, it is about teething, and mommy has become a human biding ring as well (ouch, mommy's breast is indeed the best). And in the meanwhile you haven't eaten properly again, you haven't vacuum-cleaned, you haven't done the goddamn Tracy Anderson post-natal workout, your home looks like a living hell, and all that mess and dirt makes the cheap furniture looks even cheaper. So you're frustrated.

But then it is Friday, it is weekend, you have something to look forward too. Hubby is coming home, 630pm, later than you expected, but what the hell. Baby is really upset of tiredness. So you ask: "Can't you go for a walk, so she can nap?". He goes. 15 minutes later (maybe it was more, but it sure felt like it), he is back, baby is sleeping. Takes the lift off the pram and places it at the balcony. A lift on the ground doesn't move. Baby wakes up - surprise, surprise. Not really. From frustration I go from rage in a matter of minutes. What could I possibly have accomplished in 15 minutes? I send husband and baby away. Go away, come back in one hour and a half, I say. I was harsh. So it is almost 9pm and they aren't back yet. Baby should have a bath, and who knows today she goes to bed earlier than the other days. Her schedule changes insanely no matter what I do. And she won't take a pacifier, like ever. Or a bottle of expressed milk. Frustration, and with it a sense of failure. And then you compare yourself with others, whose babies are so easy in so many ways. With motherhood it comes frustration, and with frustration it comes a lot of other feelings - rage, sadness, envy. It sucks.

summer.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Tue, 27 Aug 2013 10:08:00 +0000

denim.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 26 Jul 2013 18:05:00 +0000

I love how Inez pulls off this oversized denim jacket she bought at Monki (can you believe it is a size XS?!?), with my height (162cm), I would look funny wearing it, but she makes it look so stylish.

simplicity

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 19 Jul 2013 09:34:00 +0000

Once upon a time I used to post about fashion on my blog... Well, since last week I started to post fashion and style related posts again, this time on another blog, 'Simplicity', written by my fashionista friend Inez Dawczyk. Inez's take on scandinavian minimalism is what most of the blog is about, but expect to see more, from Copenhagen street style to our favourite shops in CPH and plenty of anything that inspires us. Go check it out now! And follow us on facebook ;)

Photos: Inez Dawczyk
http://simplicity-dk.blogspot.dk

monday morning Copenhagen.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Thu, 11 Jul 2013 10:31:00 +0000

unknown.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Tue, 06 Nov 2012 10:05:00 +0000

A few pictures from the places I travelled/visited this year from january until october. Can you guess which places? Without clicking on the link, of course...Only two pictures were taken in Copenhagen, the boring city where I live.Right now I'm considering my options for the new year's eve, as I plan to go somewhere else (unlike the last 3 (?) years). A friend wants me to join him and his bf in London, but London seems way too chaotic. Although I could use the company. Second options would be either Paris or Berlin. But still not sure. In the end of the day, the most important thing is just take a damn plane and not be here when the fireworks explode. The most important thing is not being here as often as I can, actually. My mental sanity says 'thanks'.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sat, 03 Nov 2012 11:50:00 +0000

I'm not sure if I should start writing anything. I assume people don't stop around this blog to read anything, but looking at pretty pictures. I try to keep this blog personal in the most non-personal way. Sure, the pictures are deeply subjective. It is my view, mine only, thus some will like them, others will not. I guess I said it once, and I will say it again: escapism. I read yesterday a blogger saying that expats who once wrote good blogs and at some point started 'writing' food blogs, have lost it. I think I have lost it. It is been a long time. So I keep posting pretty pictures once in a while, as most of the time I don't even bother to do so. I do photograph a lot. Depending on my mood, of course. I can go on without taking a single photograph for days, sometimes weeks (I'm not counting on those silly instagram updates) and suddenly I can take hundreds of pictures in a single day. Most of them are kept in my pc's hard disk and will never be seen by anyone else but me. This post isn't about photography. You see, I don't really make a lot of sense... I don't know how to say this properly. I know one thing. I'm one of those who have lost it.

Verbo.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Tue, 18 Sep 2012 17:21:00 +0000

The beautiful spanish actress Alba García, who plays a teenage girl struggling with her own feelings and thoughts in Verbo, Eduardo Chapero-Jackson's first feature film. A very emotionally intense performance by such a talented young woman. Ah, and she is a huge Terrence Malick fan too: "There are two kind of people in the world - those who liked The Tree of Life and those who didn't", she told me with a smile.

:)

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Wed, 12 Sep 2012 19:59:00 +0000

So sorry for the lack of updates, but 2012 has been a busy year so far (and I'm thankful for that!). Bad bad excuse, so I'll try to come here more often. I have thousands of pictures on my HD that I haven't really shared (perhaps on flickr...), for instance the picture above that was taken in Prague last march. This area really reminded me of Paris, and I'm sure many would agree. And anything that makes me dream of Paris even if for a second is worthwhile... :) The 1st picture was actually taken today. These Zara sandals never knew the outdoors, and I deep within knew it would be the case when I bought them (on sale), but they are 'oh so pretty and feminine'. Blame the lack of 'open toe friendly' days this summer + my lack of ability to walk in heeled shoes for more than 10 minutes! The diptyque scented candle smells divine, it is my first ever. It was one of the little things I indulged myself with while in London the past few days, including my first Guerlain scent ever (it kind of smells of rich old lady, but I love it!) and Ladureé macarons - because I'll always get my hands in these whenever I can - (it is really a pity there is no Ladureé in Copenhagen...). And speaking of London.. can I just say WOW? My 1st visit ever, and dual/mixed feelings about it already at first sight. And if you happen to be in the city or coming soon, don't miss the photo exhibition 'Another London' at Tate Britain. A must-see for photography lovers. Pictures soon to come.

girl.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sun, 06 May 2012 13:30:00 +0000

january so far.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 20:48:00 +0000

I'm spending the entire month in my hometown in Brazil, doing nothing much than enjoying homemade food (yum!), enjoying the sunshine, going to my fav restaurants and cafés, drinking fresh juices and coconut water, wearing my summer clothes, having fun with the actual size of some fruit and how they smell so fresh and sweet... A nice break from cold and depressing january. Here are some everyday shots taken with a mobile phone.

Food porn.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 23:02:00 +0000

2012.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 09:52:00 +0000

seasons.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 23:07:00 +0000

light.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 20:28:00 +0000

some pictures from this spring and past summers.

darkness.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 09:05:00 +0000

"I had a dream, which was not all a dream.

The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went -and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light;
And they did live by watchfires -and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings -the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face;
Happy were those which dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanoes, and their mountain-torch;
A fearful hope was all the world contained;
Forests were set on fire -but hour by hour
They fell and faded -and the crackling trunks
Extinguished with a crash -and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them: some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnashed their teeth and howled; the wild birds shrieked,
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawled
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless -they were slain for food;
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again; -a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought -and that was death,
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails -men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devoured,
Even dogs assailed their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famished men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the drooping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answered not with a caress -he died.
The crowd was famished by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies: they met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heaped a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage: they raked up,
And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
Each other's aspects -saw, and shrieked, and died -
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless -
A lump of death -a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still,
And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropped
They slept on the abyss without a surge -
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The Moon, their mistress, had expired before;
The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perished! Darkness had no need
Of aid from them -She was the Universe." (Lord Byron).

mood.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 11:04:00 +0000

Tulips, me over five years ago, sunset light in the living room, autumn leaves, home made cappuccino and a wrapped secret poem.

pink is the magic word.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sat, 29 Oct 2011 15:13:00 +0000

vintage faux fur.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sat, 29 Oct 2011 14:57:00 +0000

I hate myself wearing this coat without heeled shoes, but sometimes I just have to be practical, which during the cold months ALWAYS translates in Dr. Martens.

anne shirley.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 13:27:00 +0000

Anne: Mr. Cuthbert, what is this place called?

Matthew: The Avenue. Pretty, ain't it?

Anne: Pretty doesn't seem the right word to use. Nor beautiful either; it don't go far enough. It is wonderful. Wonderful. They shouldn't call this lovely place, "The Avenue"! There's no meaning in a name like that. They should call it, "White Way of Delight." It's far more glorious than I could ever have imagined.

Matthew: That's Barry's pond.

Anne: Oh, no. This is the Lake of Shining Waters. That's its rightful name. Do things like this ever give you a thrill, Mr. Cuthbert?

mist.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 13:12:00 +0000

Paris.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 18:49:00 +0000

From a month ago when I was in Paris.