Then + Now: Lime & London

Es ist mal wieder Zeit für ein Wachstumsupdate 😉


Der Pinguin gehört mir, hat der Herr mir damals geschenkt ^_^


About Growing up & Grieving

I wrote this in a very emotional minute or two. Today, as I revise it and add a couple of photos I still feel the same, but am not sobbing.

1 week old

So you are now 13 months and 12 days old. I look at you and I am amazed at the things you can do already. I know they say you shouldn’t, but I do compare: I see other babes who aren’t yet climbing stairs up and down by themselves, but they might be saying their first words, something you haven’t done yet, but are on the way to do so.

They say time flies and you should enjoy every day before it’s too late. I tell you something, the days can be long and sometimes I can’t wait for you to go to sleep in the night so my boobs and arms can have a rest 😉  BUT each passing day takes you one step further away from babyhood and me. I know, melodramatic, but it makes me so so sad to know that you will never ever be like you are today. You’re my Baba and you still depend on us so much and I can’t wait to see where the world and your enthusiasm takes you, but at the same time I mourn your {babyness}. I grieve each day for what I am..we are…losing. (*sniff*)

I’ve read a book* earlier this year and it contained this quote:


I feel time passing like sand slipping through my fingers. Perhaps it is good that we remember only fragments of their childhood as we grow older. Otherwise the loss would be too great to bear.


This is so true, I can barely take it.

It’s funny, actually, every stage you’re at is my favourite: just born (so fresh and overwhelming), smiling and cooing (wonderful and each smile and squeak a song for my heart), getting more independent and moving about (exciting!) and everything that’s in-between. I am sure this will continue.

What struck me the other day, as I looked into your big, blue, trusting eyes as you nursed: you won’t remember any of this. (*more.sniffing*) You dish out the smiles wherever you go, you sing loudly, crawl with purpose, attack the stairs in the playground with confidence I didn’t know you had and nurse like a champ (and much, much more) but none of it will be part of your memories. I am hoping that this blog, this little place in the web-i-sphere, will help you understand who you are and how you became to be the person you will be when you read this. (*grabbing.tissues*)

Would you like a kiss.kiss?

The long and winding road ahead

*The Secret Life of a Slummy Mummy by Fiona Neill

Disclaimer: I use the word grieving here. I have no way of knowing (and hopefully never will know) true grieving when you lose a child. This is the only word that describes how I feel about the process of babies growing into children, into teenagers and into adults. Thank you.

She rocks!


  • the washing machine
  • the cleaning stuff cupboard
  • books/magazines/paper in general
  • mummy’s camera & phone…still
  • shoes
  • bins
  • wheels or the who buggy..not sure
  • to get own way
  • the telephone
  • mummy’s keys
  • daddy making silly faces and scary things like jumping
  • and more


  • being pulled away from the cleaning stuff cupboard
  • being left alone (before you call Social Services: we’re talking about going into the next room ;p)
  • nappy changes
  • not getting her own way
  • the car seat
  • the hoover
  • and more


  • pull self up
  • walk with help
  • crawl
  • climb stairs
  • and more

and has 6 teeth 😀