30+

Growing up I had big issues with anxiety about death, my own death, which prevented me from planning anything ahead of time. I was convinced that death was just around the corner, waiting to jump in as soon as I was happy.

My biggest win in life, up until then, was to turn 30. I never saw that in my woken nightmares, because 30 meant you had survived the younger years. Someone over 30 was a grownup and I just never thought I would have the privilege to experience that. But I did. Same with children, marriage and many other things that most people take for granted. I never thought I would get to experience any of it, but here I am.

Anyone over 30, for me, has always been a boring old person with boring responsibilities and a look to match. I never wanted to grow old before my time, but I have been forced to in many aspects – never the exterior though. That’s one thing I still can control, how I look. I don’t know, for the most part, how I’m being perceived by the general public but I do know the idea I’m trying to put on display: not an old bat.

I honestly don’t aim higher than that. Some people want to look perfect, tan and made up. Not me, I just don’t want to become that old lady that needs help carrying her groceries. Obviously we’re many years away from that, but I have seen some people my age looking like death came to them last year. And I don’t want to be a part of that crew.

I should watch what I eat, sleep more and take care of my skin and hair. I don’t and am solely relying on genetics. I don’t really have the time, and when I do I spend it doing other things that don’t involve taking care of me. It all comes down to priorities. I don’t have a babysitter, so most of the cleaning that I do around the house is done carrying a screaming baby.

Erik’s been knee deep in one of the leaps, he’s been teething and got his vaccinations which triggered a serious flu – all at the same time. This has been accompanied by my back giving way completely, me getting a flu and custody battles. So the whole sleep, eat, clean schedule has been put on hiatus. I’m happy if I get a shower once a week these days, which may sound gross but that’s because it is.

I have to prioritize other things over me putting on a facemask, or eating a healthy meal. Mostly I just jam any high caloric crap I can find into my mouth when my blood sugar levels are dwindling. So between chocolate, chips and energy sodas I honestly don’t know what it is that gives me such a healthy glow. Jokes aside, genetics really do make all the difference.

I smoke occasionally, I drink more coffee in a day than most do in a week and my stress level is at an all time high yet the skin is looking good. Better than it should, considering both age and treatment. But makeup is becoming a necessity. You can get away with most things but the bags under the eyes, the black garbage bags, are not forgiving. So I cover them with foundation, add some blush and mascara. Today I even slapped on some lipstick, if you’ll believe it.

I mean, if you’re feeling like shit at least you can look like you’re doing somewhat ok. Eyebrows are dyed, lipstick is solid and the two wrinkles I have on the forehead are almost invisible today. I guess, all in all, it’s a pretty decent day. If only life would stop throwing me curveballs for a while, I could maybe have a shot. But for now I enjoy my almost wrinkle free face and soon another cup of coffee with my tiny gentleman who seems to be doing a little bit better today.

Campbell of Sweden

16 days until due date…

It means nothing, the due date. It’s a guestimation at best, but we’re keeping our fingers crossed that he decides to come in May at least. 

I’m on my maternity leave, and doing nothing but cook and decorate the new apartment. Oh and eat. I eat like a full grown racehorse during competition season. And I am doing absolutely no training nor am I exercising in any other sense. My feet are so swollen that I actually cannot wear my regular shoes. Like little raised breads with sausages for toes.

But to be quite frank, the pregnancy has been running about as smoothly as a pregnancies go. Pudgy the whale has kept extremely active and he is growing faster than the regular babies but at the last checkup he was +16% over average size so it is all within reason. Now it’s just a countdown, which will officially start tomorrow when there is only 15 days until his original due date.


So, the pictures sum up all that I do. Rest my poor, swollen feet after some home decoration. Getting new kitchen appliances and growing to biblical proportions.

But I also worry. I worry about finances, about Sean’s residency issues about the labor and actually bringing a child into this world. How will he be? What if we don’t bond at first, what if I can’t breastfeed? 

There are too many variables and it stresses me out. What if I don’t know how to be a good mother to the little whale? What if my insecurities get the better of me and I freeze up..? It’s all there, all these thoughts and ideas. All these worries and then add the weight gain and the lack of sleep and you have set yourself up for some lunacy. This not taking into account all the raging hormones playing tricks on you.

But, soon enough we will all find out just how it all goes. It’s just about waiting it all out, have patience, something I have a lack of.
Mrs. Campbell