I don’t think im alone in my assumption that peeing isn’t a teamsport (unless u are into that kinda thing in a very adult kinda way).
Well..if u are a stay at home mum; it is.
I just spend 2 days home with WeeMan who developed a bad fever after last weeks inoculation. He is the sweetest, most intensive little guy u can ever find.
I love him beyond words.
With that said: I LOVE being back at work! Love love love it!
I love that I can eat lunch without having someone on my lap.
I love that I can think a WHOLE thought through.
I know, Magic!

M texted me that i can’t stay home with a sick kid and NOT blog.
Well my dearest M…there was absolutely no f-ing time to type!
WeeMan is of the strong opinion that I have to spend eeevery waked moment with my full and undivided attention directed at him…or im a crappy mum.
I couldn’t be projecting my own fears on my son ..or could i? Hmm…
He has now learned to say “more”…I find that very …my son.

OH I had a most “fascinating” experience about a week back.
I spend a day in the company of the ladiesclub Fabella filled with Krav Maga, dinner out and then 6 of us headed out to shake that moneymaker at the local nightclub “Munken”.
Three of the girls had a VIP-pass = no queue, 1 guest and no admissions fee.
FAB we all thought.
I’m last in line and get stopped by the bouncer, who tells the other girls, not me, that She (pointing at me) has to stand at the back of the line and pay admission.
Me: I´m with them.
Bouncer: She has to stand at the back of the line and pay admission.
I try to look for the rest of the girls I went out with and I see them a tad further in the doorway, apparently “not hearing” what the bouncer just said and leaving me to my faith.
I was in chock.
Still in chock-mode I stood in line, paid admission and my jaw positively dropped when the other girls exclaimed: – Oh THERE you are..we wonderd where u went.
That was the final straw.
I left without, without any drama, and paid the cab fare home myself (60€) instead of sharing with one of the girls as agreed.
That weekend was spent pondering life.

• What had made the bouncer decide I wasn’t allowed in like the rest of the group?
• What kind of friends are those girls I was out with who left me at the door?
• Have I turned into that girl, u know the chubby, poorly dressed girl with glasses, that no bouncer would let in even if she paid double admission?
Etc.etc. etc.

I then deiced that
1) that bouncer had the disasteroulsy bad taste to not let me in, he didnt know what that place missed out on.
2) Those girls aren’t friends. And will never be since I actually graduated fifth grade and they are obviously still there.
3) No I’m not. I’m just not stick-skinny and wear the latest fashion. That doesn’t make me any less attractive or boring…or less of a spender for that matter.

The Krav Maga instructor, Ola, made a huge impression on me and he is, as it turns out, a bouncer at the same place.
He really tried his hardest to explain the complexity of being a good bouncer from all perspectives. I respect him for that.
But still…I don’t know what made me the reject of the evening (along with many more I suspect).
Ola rocks. That other guy sucks.
Nuff said.

I have stuff to plan and things to sort out.
Until later.