I know, I know, you have to say „blog entry“ or „blog post“ otherwise everyone thinks you’re like a granny talking about „an internet“ or similar.
So I am sorry I’ve not written for a million years – I had a baby, who wouldn’t breastfeed (Saugfaulenze), was just pumping all the time, went on holiday, where it constantly, constantly rained and we couldn’t go swimming (I couldn’t go swimming anyway because a) I was officially in the Wochenbett and b) I was just pumping all the time) and plus I read Game of Thrones, the first book, in German and found out that I can’t actually speak German (Mitmündel? Schlafgemach? Also was never sure if the word I couldn’t understand was a German word I didn’t know or a made-up fantasy word like Götterhain or something) and suddenly tried to forget every single spoiler I had ever not known was actually a spoiler I had ever heard ever. Really think German people could’ve mentioned to me that I can’t actually speak German before letting me write columns and books and stuff, although, to be fair, I suppose some of you did try.
Now I am back and have abgestillt & promise not to be so neglectful in the future. And also not to inundate with blog POSTS about babies and boobies and paediatricians and playgrounds and Kindergeld and Kindergartens, etc. It is hard, though. You spend so much time thinking about your baby, and so little time thinking about anything else. And you forget what normal people think about. Steve Bannon’s resigned but I just don’t care that much, I can’t help it. I’d still like Donald Trump to die and white supremacy to be defeated forever but that breathless soap opera feeling of following political developments has gone, you know. Yesterday after my boyfriend left for work I changed my son’s nappy and it was full of shit. Newborn babies‘ shit is this glorious, inoffensive pale orange colour and his nappy was full of it. „Oh God,“ I said to myself, grabbed my phone. „I’d better send my boyfriend an SMS to tell him about this.“ I’d literally started typing the text message before I remembered that a shitty nappy, even a gloriously shitty nappy, is not actually newsworthy, or even SMS-worthy, information. So I promise to keep the baby stuff to a bare minimum – but the trouble is, my idea of a bare minimum might be a bit different to yours.