Mr. Housewife

The perfect housewife. Mr. C.
Yesterday he was working all day and got home around seven in the evening. Instead of falling a sleep on the couch, he does that sometimes, or did more likely. But apparently my reaction to that habit has made him scared of falling asleep...

I guess I can't see if he is sleeping 

So instead of taking this relaxed pose he started his evening by giving a bath to Baby James. After bath, while I was feeding Baby James, Mr. C started to prepare dinner for us. When Baby J felt asleep Mr. C put him in the bed.

When Baby J went to bed I relaxed watching football and scratching my balls  belly on the couch while Mr. C finished the dinner. While making the table he looked at the balcony and said to me 'oh, you managed to put the carpet to try'. Yes, dear I did. But now you are standing in front of the tv and I'm watching football. During the weekend he washed all the carpets we have.

Look at those legs taking the clean carpet in

This morning i got up and he was doing the dishes and coffee was already made. What can I say, Well done Mr. Housewife, well done.

Short drive in Alcudia

Alcudia, where my love to Mallorca flared with flames. Where I first met Mr. C. Where I got to know one of my best friend. How could it not have a special meaning for me.
And so our family went to Alcudia on Friday. Mr. C had business lunch and took Baby James with him. You need to teach them young, right? Me, I went to have lunch with my friend. She knew this lovely restaurant hidden behind the walls in old town.

Cafe Restaurant Sa Mossegada

Lunch dates were not the only reason we went to Alcudia.  Mr. C's family lives there and as it was midsummer (and my name day) we also had family dinner.

Baby James surrounded with the women of his life

And I drove a car for the first time here. Just from one house to another. Took about seven minutes. Two for anyone else. Maybe could have been faster by walking. But Mr. C said I did good, streets are wider there and I only met one car. Did I? I asked. You should have seen Mr. C's face. Of course I saw that car....

Baby James was not impressed by my driving

It was sunset when we head home. Mr. C driving this time. If it was me, I think we would still be on the way.

Hot like a hot dog

We are on a diet. Me and Mr. C. Baby James is in perfect shape. Mr. C thinks I have shrunk his shirts (as I do the laundry). And me, I have been on a diet about 15 years. Yet I'm just getting bigger and bigger. How is that possible? Yes, one reason is I was pregnant just moment ago.

The perfect size

Being pregnant was such a good excuse to, basically, everything. Especially to the size I was. Suddenly it was taken away from me and whats my excuse now. I just had a baby. Yes thats a good one too. But how long can I use that?

I felt like a balloon right away I got pregnant. Any jeans were impossible to wear. Everything was uncomfortable and too tight. Elastic waistband became my best friend. And it was ok, I was pregnant.

The balloon size

At the end of October friend of mine asked me to go to Valencia with her for few days. Nice city, yeah until you go to the elevator. In came two men. I don't remember what happened. The doors didn't close or something. But the other man in the elevator told to all of us in the elevator that me and his friend were too fat. Yes, a stranger told me that I was too fat to the elevator. I got so shocked I didn't know what to say. I had to wait till I got out of the elevator and asked my friend if I understood right. I did. But stranger man, I was not fat, I was pregnant!

Too fat to an elevator. Peace. 

To answer my own question how is it possible. I like food and eating too much. So much that I was advertising hot dogs on my shirt today.

Diet starts next Monday.

Permission to laundry, denied.

When it comes to household chores Mr C’s job is to take out the trash. He is the trash man. He is allowed to do dishes, cooking and vacuuming. Tho he has once asked me where do we keep the vacuum cleaner. I don’t know if he still knows...

But laundry is one thing I don't want him to touch. I really don't want him to do any laundry. I have kindly asked him not to do it. But still twice I have seen him doing it. Twice too many times. Its horrible feeling. I see him going closer to the washing machine and I can feel my heartbeat getting faster, my blood pressure is getting up, I'm getting nausea. I am trying to stop him but he is just getting closer and closer to the machine.

Its because I do it so much better. Really. When he does it, everything goes in at the same time. Everything. Why make easy things harder? he told me. And he doesn't even check if there is any room to hang the clothes after he has washed them. What a mistake!

So the first time he did laundry without my permission he washed everything in 60 degrees instead of 30. And when I pointed this out, while the machine was rolling, He asked me how could it be in 60 degrees cos you can wash everything in 30. Looks like I don't. I had just washed all the sheets so there weren't even room to hang the clothes he was now washing. At the end this was not a problem as he never hung them. Poor clothes were there in the machine for two days until I fixed it.

Last week it happened again, I saw him walking towards the machine with his laundry basket. NO NO NO don't do it, I am begging, please don't do it. Let me do it. He tells me he has done laundry all his life, he knows what he is doing. And its urgent. He needs to do it now. Close your eyes, he tells me. I am hitting my head to the wall (eyes closed) and I tell him that he needs to fold the dry ones then before he can hang what ever he is washing now. Its everything, I could see it before I closed my eyes. I saw in went socks, towels and pants. Im dying little bit inside. But nothing I can do. Just close my eyes.

And what happened this time? The urgent laundry was standing in the machine for three days. Three days I walked by the machine my eyes closed. And then I see he has opened the machine door. And he tells me: maybe you were right. Its getting easier to breath, I go to my dear machine and I empty it and start over again and I'll do it the correct way.

Yesterday I heard him saying to Baby James to not start crying now because he was taking care of his obligations as a trash man. Yes, Mr C,  leave the laundry machine alone and stick with the trash. You are a good trash man.

Broken alarm clock

I don't need the usual alarm clock. My alarm is called Baby James. He wakes me up every morning around 7.30. I have never been a morning person. But waking up 7.30 is ok. It could be worse. Like when I was a child. According to the story I was set to 5:30. Every morning. And I woke my parents by saying Herätyskello! (Alarm clock!). Every morning.

Well during the weekend my alarm went broken. I guess its only because we had something to do. And for the first time in months I was thinking I should put alarm on. But I didn't.

We had booked a time to fix a passport for Baby James on Saturday morning at 9:24. Yes, 9:24. Not 9:20, not 9:25 or 9:30. It was 9:24. And Saturday morning its also yoga time for me. Morning yoga is at 10.30. Not 10.24. So anyway, needed to be out from the house at 9:00. My alarm goes on 8.30. What?? 8:30!! Get your yoga pants on, put Baby James ready and find all the papers you need for the  passport. We got out finally 9.15. Not bad to be in Spain.

Strike a pose

Just having fun with the camera 

Ok, then to the yoga. Mr. C said the other day that I should be yoga teacher. Haha. I am beginner when it comes to yoga. I really like and enjoy yoga. But sometimes I even need to concentrate whats right and whats left. Not a teacher material but Namaste Mr C.

Earth yoga studio in palma

Back to the broken alarm. I didn't get it fixed during Saturday so Sunday morning it went on 6.23. I tried to tell him its night go back to sleep but he just smiled at me. And instead of going to bed the normal ten o'clock in the evening, I went little wild Saturday and stayed up till midnight watching movies with Mr. C. Baby James woke to eat in the night at 3.19. After that I failed to fall asleep again. So when the alarm was smiling at me 6.23 (and I only had three hours of sleep and had been up another three hours) I passed him to Mr. C and tried to get some sleep.

Ten o'clock Mr. C woke me. With the best possible way: breakfast in bed. Pancakes with Nutella, coffee with warm milk, yogurt with a cherry on the top. Aaaand twelve points goooooes to: Mr C!

Mornings are for breakfast

Praise the Dads!

Mr. C is an awesome dad. Great. The best. And its not even Fathers day or his birthday and I can say this. Baby James is always so happy with his dad. And now he has even started to look like him.

The moment when I realised my baby is looking like his dad

Already before Baby James was born I knew Mr. C would be a natural talent as being a dad. And I wasn't wrong (hardly ever I am). From the day one how he takes care of the baby just makes my heart melt (or skip a beat). These two are doing so many things together.

Cant believe this man once said to me he doesn't know how to hold a baby. Showing here two good options: Like he is a pineapple you are proud to show or a sloth hanging from the tree.

I didn't bought too many clothes for Baby J before he was born. I told Mr. C the reason was I didn't know he's style yet. Of course you need to see the person first to see what kind of clothes suits them. Mr. C also has an eye for a fashion and he knows how to dress a baby.

Baby James wearing a light blue pyjama shirt (wrong way) together with light green pants.

 Mr. C works a lot. I mean a lot. But sometimes he works from home. And then it could be that you need to somehow put together taking care of the baby and working. As an building engineer he has solutions for that.

Attach baby to yourself and keep on working

When Baby James was born everybody, E V E R Y B O D Y, told me to sleep when the baby is sleeping. For me its been impossible to fall asleep during the day. At the end I was lying on the sofa eyes closed getting stressed who's gonna do the laundry and all the cleaning now. But not everyone has the same problem.

 They do activities together. Like normal things you do with a baby. Maybe little creative. But good for the baby. Reading, playing and singing.

Reading my gossip magazine

Playing hide and seek

 Need a nanny or any parenting tips? We cannot help.

 Anyway, he is the best dad for Baby James and I am so proud of him.

Apple Pie is a fruit

Right? By an accident I have been eating quite healthy today. Lots of fruits. Started morning with a banana smashed in a greek yogurt. Banana, fruit number one. Had also two cups of coffee.  Coffee is made of coffee beans which for me is a fruit (more than a seed). Thats fruit number two.  

Went out with Baby James again in the morning for few hours. It was safe to go, I knew Mr. C had to be on the other side of the island today. So there was no proposal to be expected. Walked by a fruit shop. Its a fruit even if it is fluffy.

Fruit shop

Bought this cute summer outfit for Baby James. Perfect for these hot days we are now having here.

Not a fruit bag.

When we got home I was so hungry that I just wanted to have something quick and easy. Luckily I had ready to go sandwich in the freezer. This sandwich had chocolate (it was ice cream sandwich). Chocolate is made of cacao which is bean/seed which for me again is fruit. There we have fruit number three. Drank also a class of orange juice. Pure orange. 100%. Count it as a fruit number four.

Liquid fruit

When I took out my lunch I also noticed we had big box of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. I didn't want to leave it there to rotten. So to be a real good stay at home mom I baked an apple pie to go with the ice cream. Yes, I had real apples. Three to be exact. Just enough to make a pie. Snacked apple pie with vanilla ice cream. Fruit number five.

Fruit

Looking forward to dinner. I will let Mr. C to be in charge of that tonight. He is actually very good at cooking.

"You should do something"

This is how I started my blog. Mr. C told me I should do something. In encouraging, supportive way. Not in the "you never do anything" way. I am a mom to two month old Baby James, I have something to do. But to do something for myself.  And then I got it last Sunday morning. I should do something. I should write a blog. So here I am, doing something. But first let me introduce these two to you:

                                                                        Mr. C and Baby James

Picture is taken few weeks back on our first family picnic at the beach

We are a family of three living in Mallorca. Mr. C is from here but half Swedish. I am Finnish and moved here last October. Mr. C came to pick me up from Finland, I call it real love.

Packed the car and drove from Finland to Mallorca. Took five days. Four days more what it took him to drive alone from Mallorca to Finland...

And here, this is me. 

I met Mr. C first time in 2013 when I came to work in Mallorca. I felt in love with the island right away (with Mr. C bit later). So it is a dream come true that I am now able to live here permanently. I was already pregnant when I moved here in October and since then I have stayed home. And this is what worried Mr. C, that I would get bored here. Many times he said to me you should do something, many times I asked like what? And many times he asked me don't you want to do something and again I said like what? And then suddenly I got this idea. To have a blog about our family. 

Welcome to follow our life!