I have had my coffee and I have had my yoghurt, not that any of them felt that exciting today. Instead of slowly sipping on a frothy latte and enjoying a continental croissant it was more a “eat to survive” sort of breakfast in eager to finally finish the living room painting project.

The demolition of the pale blue beach house, or should I say grotty holiday batch (with random pieces of grass growing unsightly and scattered in its white rusty drain pipes) has slowed down to a halt.  For now, the black cables running over its broken walls, working its way up on the tin roof to later end up in a big pile on their sun bleached balcony has been momentarily spared. “It’s going down, yes…soon” I whisper with a grin, just like one of those mean characters in an old James Bond movie.

I have been shying away from buying any garments due to: a certain (and very enormous) weight gain. The expression “eating for two” did literally apply to every inch of my body, every minute of the day for as long as the ‘we both shall live’ or was it 9 months? Either way, "I do" (or did)!

Ever since I mentioned pyjama pants, in all honesty: it was just yesterday. I have been wanting a pair to lounge around in or combine with flip flops for a take away at the Mount.  It feels like I have been wanting a pair ever since I got pregnant...

I am deeply nestled into a “500.000 names for your baby” book while the neighbours are busy whistling to the sound of a rowdy digger. Its demolition date and that pale blue scruffy 1960’s batch are being torn down and replaced for ‘hopefully’ something more pretty then before. 

 Me, the kiwi and our little new addition (my little adorable baby girl) is eagerly watching as mom and dad stain their favourite tanks and snuggled T-shirts and less favoured old leggings and board shorts.  Our living-room celling is turning ghost white after years of less flattering and somewhat depressing smoked yellow. It’s such a refreshing transformation that it got us hooked...

As I gently cross over between a life of: bad hair days (which happen to a bleached blonde a lot!) and shoes I’ve bought that suddenly don’t fit (my Swedish Hasbeen’s and an unfortunate pair of Alexander Wang Oxfords) 

I am perfectly fine skipping the champagne and the tight dress this year as the baby decided to stay put in the warmth and safety of my womb. Having a figure resembling a football doesn’t help feeling left out from the party crowd and I might as well.  

Sun, seas and a big belly to match as I wait for the arrival of the baby. The date is 'suppose' to be the 1 of January but then again, who knows when bubs decide to arrive..In the meantime I have sent some NZ gifts to my Swedish family including some of my favourite picks...

I burned my very first plate of Swedish Lussebullar, in fact I even struggled to make the yeast survive in my schourching conditions, resulting in little hard buns un-eatable and un-servable even though it made for a good photo...  

It started a few months ago, as I went through my sequined bohemian and much over-stocked wardrobe. I’ve been craving neutrals, simple clean silouttes and salty drenched beach hair.  

A few ends gently knot together during this years final days both before Christmas and a new 2012 but also as my belly grow into its final proportion of being pregnant there is a lot of new roads and ones that ends, only 8 days to go before being a mom, opening gifts, and corking that champagne bottle… 

It's not many days to Christmas and here I am, obsessing over a pair of boots that I would like to magically find in my hallway. As if Santa would figure that one out. If he did, they are from the label: Friend of Mine, col: dusty blue and in a size 40 if not a narrow fit…

Artsy Wedding Have It All: Ball Gowns and Mermaid Wedding Dresses

As the rain settles I have spent my first hour this Monday morning cursing a bun dough that won’t rise, eating natural yoghurt with fresh strawberries, put one load of random clothes into a cotton quick wash and...