I write to you from my Eames daybed, sipping a light decaf lemon tea and nuzzling into my new, organic cotton Marimekko-swathed little boy.
There I was at my ICA opening night, making my little speech, flanked by Charlotte Gainsbourg one side and Zadie Smith on the other, when out of the blue I began to get a horrendous stomach cramp. I had been getting them most of the day but I thought it was just the bad Gouda from Cheese Appreciation Level 4 the night before. It wasn't just the bad Gouda (must stop trying to blame cheese for everything), it was my boy trying to sally hello.
Suddenly, just as my waters broke all over the Chapman Brothers' shoes (shame), Wilson swept in and caught me as I collapsed in agony, falling off the podium.
Luckily my baby guru Gowri was also at the opening (she's very supportive of my work) and took over. Ludo was marvellous of course but he kept yelling in Finnish (he's fluent in several European languages) which wasn't at all helpful.
So alas my glorious natural home birth was never to be. I was rushed to hospital, drugged up to the eyeballs and the little fellow popped out in record time on baby blue polyester hospital sheets. I do hope he doesn't get a rash.
Well, I suppose I ought to tell you his name. We decided to mix our names so he has my surname as a first name and Ludo's as his surname. He is:
There I was at my ICA opening night, making my little speech, flanked by Charlotte Gainsbourg one side and Zadie Smith on the other, when out of the blue I began to get a horrendous stomach cramp. I had been getting them most of the day but I thought it was just the bad Gouda from Cheese Appreciation Level 4 the night before. It wasn't just the bad Gouda (must stop trying to blame cheese for everything), it was my boy trying to sally hello.
Suddenly, just as my waters broke all over the Chapman Brothers' shoes (shame), Wilson swept in and caught me as I collapsed in agony, falling off the podium.
Luckily my baby guru Gowri was also at the opening (she's very supportive of my work) and took over. Ludo was marvellous of course but he kept yelling in Finnish (he's fluent in several European languages) which wasn't at all helpful.
So alas my glorious natural home birth was never to be. I was rushed to hospital, drugged up to the eyeballs and the little fellow popped out in record time on baby blue polyester hospital sheets. I do hope he doesn't get a rash.
Well, I suppose I ought to tell you his name. We decided to mix our names so he has my surname as a first name and Ludo's as his surname. He is:
Bonhomie Lovesunday Jansdotter.
Or Bon-Bon for short. Not too silly is it? A little eccentric maybe and ever so slightly 'best in show' but I think it's just perfect. And so is he, my little Bon-Bon.
Gosh! What a year it's been. This time last year Ludo Jansdotter was the handsome and talented ex of my goofy friend Nancy. Now he's over there, across the room from me, asleep in his Alvar Alto Paimio, slumped over a copy of Architectural Digest.
Turned out nice again. (Did I just quote George Formby?)
Gosh! What a year it's been. This time last year Ludo Jansdotter was the handsome and talented ex of my goofy friend Nancy. Now he's over there, across the room from me, asleep in his Alvar Alto Paimio, slumped over a copy of Architectural Digest.
Turned out nice again. (Did I just quote George Formby?)
1 comment:
oh my goodness is it 9 months already. congrats pip!
x
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