Addiction, the struggle is real…

I sat there, in bed, while my son was crying next to me due to a fever. He didn’t want me to comfort him but he wanted me close, so I sat there and ate apple pie with vanilla custard and had some coffee. This, after a decadent indulgence in chocolate pralines that lasted two days. Perhaps it wasn’t “that many” pralines but they’re rich and I shouldn’t have had them anyway. Regardless I sat there and ate apple pie from a bowl, filled to the brim.

And when the tiny man fell asleep on my lap I was left alone in the peaceful tranquility of my overworked brain. A perfect time for some introspection and meditation, or something equally poetic.

My poor brain was jolted out of its slumber pretty quick when the sugar high hit me like a ton of bricks. It was only then that I realized that my old addiction was back, and this time it means business!

I’m a sugar addict. A real sugar junkie. I self medicate with sugar, which is my drug of choice. I love sugar and consume it by the sleeve-full, with no regards to what form it’s in. From complex carbs to simple sugars, I love it all, and breaking that habit was a nightmare beyond all nightmares. It took me three months of torture to get myself to a good place, and then it took about that long to get back into it.

I remember a specific day especially, when I was out with my best friend for an amazing dinner to celebrate that I had beaten the sugar monster. We split a dessert, a chocolate and licorice lava cake. Delicious. But my body had been detoxed from refined sugars for two years so what happened was I got massive heart palpitations and stomach cramps. I thought I was going to die, so we paced through Stockholm until I settled down a bit.

And instead of that propelling me to never touch sweets again, instead it became a challenge to find my way back to where I started. And sure enough, I am there. I can consume my body weight in sugar, every single day. And I do. Not really considering it to be that big of a deal.

Until today. In bed, next to my sick child, I realized that I was the really sick one. An addict. And it’s been said so many times before, once an addict – always an addict. But I was recovering, which I no longer am. Today I’m not even knee-deep I’m waist-deep in addiction and I need to stop.

I will not quit cold turkey again, instead I will try and phase out the refined sugars first. Then we’re going to attack the part of life that’s always the hardest for me – complex carbs. The breads and pastas, the white rices and all of the good stuff. The things that can be substituted but never replaced.

But I miss fitting into clothes. I miss sleeping without waking because I have a hankering (yes, my addiction is that bad). I miss not being dependent on having something sweet at the house at all times and mostly I miss not being ashamed of my choices.

No new era will start, no new chapter or new book. Instead I will just do better now, where I am and with the tools I have at my disposal. Addiction is awful and a battle to end all battles, but it can be kept in check and it will be once again.

Life isn’t static and this is just a bit of a rough patch. Nothing new or revolutionary, but something that most people encounter on their journey – in one form or another.

May the odds be ever in my flavor… I mean favor.

B. Campbell

On motherhood…

The holiest of subjects. There are so many preconceptions about it. And I think every person who’s ever thought about having a child has an idea or a thought on how they want it to be, or how they think it will be. And every person who’s since had a child will attest to it being a vastly different experience.

One thing most parents have in common is the overwhelming feeling of love they feel for their child. Something no one is ever prepared for, because it cannot be compare to anything one has ever experienced before. And I only have the one child but I believe that even if you have more than one, every single child you have you get that same overwhelming, never-before-experienced feeling of love.

But the hardships are many. Some are spared, and those lucky few are exceptions to the rule. Most of us have babies that have some sort of difficulty – be it sleeping or eating. Those are the two most common ones, my empirical studies show. Of course there are people who have children who are sick and they really struggle, and are the true heroes who tirelessly fight to make the best out of a situation nobody ever wants their children to be in. But us regular parents, we mostly struggle with sleep and food.

I lucked out in the food department, at least this far. Erik eats like a large, healthy horse. But his sleeping is bad, it’s very bad. He has had one night where he slept a full four hours, in nine months. He doesn’t sleep much during the day 2-3 naps circa 20 minutes each while being continuously rocked. At night he scrapes together about 1.5 hours then eats and falls back asleep only to wake up in an hour again, and so on. After 2 AM I have to keep rocking him otherwise he will be wide awake and angry. For hours and hours.

This is the situation now.

It is so much better than it was a few months ago but far from good. Some nights I don’t sleep at all since he needs to be rocked. Every time a tooth is coming he just stops sleeping all together, he is exhausted and clingy he whines and screams nonstop but he just can’t fall asleep.

So I have learned a few tricks while being at home with him. Mom hacks, if you will.

I do my nails when he’s in the shower. That way I can keep a close look at him and interact with him while also getting to look less like a hobo. I use a dip-in remover so it doesn’t stink up the place, then I file down the nails for a more clean look. After that I soak the hands in warm water and baby oil (that’s what I have on hand) and then file additionally if I see something I missed. I push back the cuticles, usually with a tool but these days it’s with my nails and then put some lotion on them to keep them moisturized.

I’ve tried the “Amazonian Saviour” from The Body Shop. And to be honest it is like a firmer version of Vaseline. I am really underwhelmed due to it drying out my hands. I later applied “Hand Repair” hand cream by Trind to actually moisturize my hands.

That process takes between 5 and 10 minutes. Usually by that point Erik is done splashing around, so it is perfectly synced. Painting the nails I can really ever do if someone is watching him. That I haven’t managed to hack yet.

However I am strongly considering getting a gel manicure set, just so that I can do a nail at a time and guarantee that it doesn’t smudge or smear. It is a bit pricy but I think it might be a good investment, because then I can do nail art without having it get ruined. Living alone with a baby that doesn’t sleep doesn’t leave any space for do-overs.

Nails and food have always been my two big hobbies. Two hobbies that eat up more time than you realize. And when you suddenly find yourself busy 24/7 you are forced to prioritize what’s important. As a parent you, and your wants, always take a back seat, so you have to learn to do what you can with what you have. New situations require new actions. So my nails are nude, for the most part. Some weeks I just can’t manage to squeeze in any upkeep, like filing, because Erik needs 150% of my time. Same goes for food.

On good days I can make simple dishes with Erik hanging onto me or climbing the stove or the dishwasher. Worry not, no area he can access is even remotely warm and I always have a splash guard so nothing splashes onto him. Dry brusselsprouts are not splash prone.

It is often said that one eats with the eye, so sometimes I try to plate my food nicely to make myself forget how simple the dish is.

This was a pepperoni sausage and wax bean casserole with some pasta and cheese.

Other days, when you’ve been up for 12 hours playing and only had two cups of coffee (how good is coffee tho) your eyes are not half as hungry as your stomach.

On those days you eat burger patties with cheese and butter fried beets with garlic. All drowned in Sriracha mayo. That was my breakfast, lunch and dinner today – all in one meal.

Erik has a fever, not a high one but a fever nevertheless so he hasn’t left my side all day and hasn’t slept for two nights straight.

And on days like these one just doesn’t prioritize eating, going to the bathroom or the fact that one has a herniated disc and sciatica. Pain is a French word for bread, which is the motto I live by. My pain is secondary, and any hobby I used to have is a thing of the past. Erik reigns supreme, in terms of getting my attention and time. And I can’t imagine a task more rewarding or fun. Because even though it’s quite painful and I’m exhausted, there are moments like these:

For a baby who is about as affectionate as his mother was when she was younger this is an unusual sight. But it is the biggest treat for the mom unit. Baby cuddles are quite amazing and I’m all but spoiled with them.

But about mom hacks, the best one so far is discovering that the grocery stores do home deliveries. In a small town like this where there is only one pizza place that does deliveries, and that costs as much as two overpriced pizzas (I shit you not!) discovering that I can get fresh fruit and vegetables delivered to my doorstep has been a lifesaver for me. Also I don’t have to carry all those bags. They have Erik’s formula and all the food he likes.

My other lifesaver – 3 AM coffee.

Campbell of Sweden

Food and inspiration

I’ve noticed that the tiny whale prefers food items that don’t contain any meat. I still feed him everything but there is a clear preference. I myself keep noticing that I too am moving away from all the meat I dislike, like poultry and pork. I’ve never liked poultry and pork is only ever good when it’s straight from the barbecue. So I’m currently in the process of eating what’s left in the freezer and won’t be restocking the meat drawer for a while. I like beans and I do like red meats so that will be the staples for my protein intake.

As for Le Pudge, he cannot deal with beans so he will continue eating a well rounded diet until his little stomach can process foods that are a bit heavy and then he himself can choose what he eats and doesn’t eat.

This isn’t a declaration of vegetarianism, but rather a note for myself to remember that as an adult I do not have to eat eggs when I find them utterly disgusting. I do not have to force myself to try to like chicken when I haven’t done it ever in my 32 years of eating.

I need to learn even more about veggie based protein so that my diet doesn’t end up lacking a basic part. But no, I am not giving up seafood, fish or red meat. A nice steak beats most things in terms of flavor and overall food experience, if you ask me. But the other stuff, the white meat, I will leave for those who appreciate it.

I’ve also come to the conclusion that beetroot may be a food of the gods. A rekindled flame. Now to learn everything there is to know about food pairing, but I fear everything might be good with le beets.

That dish might be the start of a revolution in this home. Too much goodness on one plate.

Campbell of Sweden

Teething, a hell of its own.

Some kids go through it without too much whining and pain whilst others go through hell. But as it’s often been said, if you’re going through hell – keep going. So we do.

Mr Pudgy the whale is having a shitty time teething, which translates to even worse days and nights for the mother unit. He’s whining nonstop and clinging onto me as if I’m somehow the cure. I’m not and he knows it but he keeps hoping that being on me while screaming might make things better. And who knows, maybe it does on some level. 

I’m sure you can tell, just by looking, that the pictures above are from his nap time. It’s obvious to see that he has no interest in sleeping, be it day or night. And most people will testify to less sleep during teething but for a child with a severe sleeping disorder this is devastating. Or rather it is that to his mother. His usually incrimental sleep has become even more incrimental and some nights even nonexistent which means no sleep for the mom either. And it’s one thing to not sleep a night and then catch up on your sleep later but after a series of some three nights where the boy has slept a grand total of an hour you are not human anymore.

So a few days ago I had a total breakdown. I spent all night crying along with Erik, wondering how I would pull through. But dawn came and I could see a bit clearer. So I packed up some stuff and took Erik into Stockholm. He slept for two consecutive hours, waking a bit here and there but fell back asleep when rocked.

I obvoiusly didn’t get any sleep but I had some retail therapy. Buying myself a dress, two sweaters and a ring. I also met up with my best friend and had both dinner and fika, while at it. Because if we had stayed at home I might have just spontaneously combusted.

Life as a single parent is hard, especially when your child has a sleeping disorder and there is no money coming in. It’s extra hard when his absetnee father doesn’t sign over custody on you so you’re locked into a place where you can’t even put the child in queue for a spot in a kindergarten. It’s a stressful situation knowing you have the full responsibility but absolutely no rights. But I’m hoping things will change in that arena, soon. I reached out to the boy’s father to sign over custody, today, in bopes that he might do the right thing for once. I have no hopes whatsoever that he will do what’s best for my child but one can always try.

In the meantime I do all I can and then some to ensure that my baby boy has all he could ever want or need. Even with a tremendous lack of sleep, a constant headache and enough stress to kill a normal human being I still trot on. Why? Because I love life. I love living, and each new day brings with it something positive. Something new and worthwhile. My boy is growing, sitting himself up like a pro and getting onto his stomach from a seated position. He’s full of energy and life, and if that doesn’t get you through the day then nothing will.

It is my will to live, my love for life that has gotten me through all the bad stuff. And in the end there is but one thing that controls how you respond to whatever is going on in your life – you and your perception. Change your outlook on life and you’ll realize that you are in fact living in the best of times.

If all else fails get yourself a new dress and a ring. Or whatever makes you equally excited.

But all that shopping aside, waking up to a view like this. Or going for a drive, making Erik laugh, trying new foods, talking to a loved one. Those are the real motivators. All else is gravy.

This. This is what heaven looks like: a happy and healthy boy who has everything he needs. Content. That is absolute heaven to me. All worries just melt away, all tiredness goes out the window. He is my love, my life – my boy.
Campbell of Sweden

Never have I ever…

I have never liked oatmeal. It tastes like cardboard to me, like wet cardboard. And you can mask the flavor somewhat by drowning it in different condiments but the aftertaste is still one of wet cardboard. But today I ventured into the unknown making oven roasted pears with honey, coconut oil and lemon juice.

I can honestly say, after this adventure, that I will probably never like oatmeal nor will I like coconut oil. It’s great, everyone claims, but I just don’t see it. On both accounts.

My healthy eating will have to focus on something else for breakfast because eating this stuff will make me give up my will to live before long.

I can’t help wondering about all these healthy living people, and their choices in life. How do you manage to force down all those shakes and chia seeds without dying more inside for every mouthful. I get that you want to be skinny, I do. It’s hyped up to be as skinny as possible without looking unhealthy, even if the way to get there isn’t very healthy most often. But why don’t you just eat your vegetables and exercise? Why down two liters of juice made of lemons and tears?

I’ve been scrolling around a lot lately, trying to get a bit of inspiration for my upcoming body challenge and all I see are these stick figure girls promoting juices and teas. I thought we had all outgrown the Herbalife Ponzi like scheme some 20 years ago. I was wrong in assuming that, which I noticed while scrolling around on Instagram.

People want to get rich, and they all think that if they get sponsored by a shit brand that approaches anyone who hastags “fitness” in their pictures they will reach their goal. The sad thing is that there are young girls who look up to some of these Instagram ‘models’ and buy the products in the hopes if looking like someone who spends hours under different knives and syringes.

This post is all over the place. I’m sorry for the lack of structure and point this far. Here’s what actually grinds my gears:

People who CHOOSE to eat oatmeal every damn day. Don’t they have tastebuds?

Mrs. Campbell

Lost in translation…

There is a lot to be said about motherhood, but most things you’ve probably heard. Like the sleepless nights and the endless days. I was prepared for that. I was prepared for a lot of crying and and a lot of throw up. But I didn’t get what I had envisioned.

We got a boy who, still, starts screaming before he opens his eyes. Who doesn’t sleep unless he’s being rocked or carried. Who doesn’t spend any time in the stroller, who doesn’t like riding in the car and mostly who is more easily bored than his mother. He’s a bit of a monster in most aspects, added to that his weight (one of a toddler) and you have yourself a bit of an issue. But he is glorious. So incredibly cute and curious. He’s not the least bit shy and eats with such passion.

Watching him discover different things is by far the most entertaining thing ever. To see those beautiful blue eyes take in all the surroundings is my new passion, along with observing just how good he’s gotten at taking his socks off.

He has also learned to pull his foot out of his pajamas…

The biggest change for me has been, what feels like, the solitary confinement. We are home A LOT. I’m not used to that, and I didn’t think I’d be one of those people who had to stay at home – ever. But Erik hates being out for too long and his schedule rules our world, because if he isn’t happy nobody is. And there’s a lot of suggestions coming from everywhere. Try rocking the stroller, try moving it across cobblestones and all that jazz. Erik doesn’t like lying down in the stroller, he hates sitting up in it. He really hates being rocked while in there and cobblestones make him scream even louder than normal. So, we stay at home most of the time. We do short outings to places where we can park close by, and we no longer attempt to eat out.

This was at Espresso House in Stockholm a few days ago. This picture was followed by a half hour long scream fest while I ran to the car. That was fun.

But it was preceded by this amazing picture. A baby resting while mom enjoys an overpriced scone at a coffee shop where we are seated under a stairwell, on a bench made of the same flooring as pictured with some sat-in pillows.

The romance kind of disappears when you take it all in. It’s a perfect picture of a moment in time that was not nearly as nice as it’s made to look.

Instead my life is filled with this, hand washing bobos and cleaning. It’s filled with cooking and eating while standing up.

Today I made us oven fried potatoes (with Vegeta, rosemary, crushed garlic and tons of oil), minute steak, fried mushroom and onions with a side of a mixed salad with tomato and onion (salted, oiled and with a hint of red balsamic vinegar) along with a store bought parmesan sauce.

After we had been away to buy the little whale a sleeping bag for winter and Sean had been to an interview we headed home for more home adventures.

Erik had tummy time with dad.

They played on the floor while I took silly pictures of them.

Erik and I hung out in bed, to get some rest before bath time.

Bath time is a great time, most often.

We got a new outfit on and he was fed and is currently being rocked by Sean in the hopes of all of us getting some sleep tonight.

That’s what the days look like. The old life has lost its charm, but I haven’t quite settled into the new one yet. But for every day that passes it gets easier and easier.

Life sure is funny that way.

When did I age?

Mrs. Campbell

Saturdate

We have decided to be all grown up about life, the husband unit and I. We will be having a Saturdate and visiting different restaurants each week, trying something new on for size.

We’ve been looking at apartments this past week, visiting a whole heap of places only to realize that we are comfortable where we are. But we are keeping an outlook for something bigger and cheaper than what we have, which means looking outside of Stockholm. A two bedroom apartment would be ideal but we are more than ready to settle for a large one bedroom as well.

But we are comfortable here for the time being and we both like our place. So we have an interesting time ahead of us, deciding what to do and where to go. But for now we’re staying put and loving it.

Tonight’s dinner date, or Saturdate as it were, was at Esuki Sushi in Solna. We’ve been there a few times and not once have we walked out of there not completely stuffed and satisfied. Since I’m pregnant I feel like not having to ask about what’s what and go for the safe option- vegetarian sushi.

Usually the vegetarian option is boring and underwhelming but this place has me coming back for more. It’s an innovative feast not only for your pallet but also for the eye. Incorporating such ingredients as shiitake mushroom, baby corn and asparagus. The given ones are there as well, namely avocado and tofu. 

I devoured the 12 piece while the hisband ate away at his Yakiniku, which is his favorite dish in that place. We rolled out afterwards, happy as clams and stuffed at the rafters.

The place is by far the best I’ve been to in terms of sushi and the terrible parking situation would usually put us off of it but the food is absolutely spectacular and the place is cute and cosy. 

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥 (five hatched chickens out of five, making it a grand slam).

Mrs. Campbell