When I browse through Pinterest, I get hundreds of "Routine with Your Newborn" etc. etc. pictures that give you minute daily routines to the second that you should implement on your child as quickly as possible. In the many, many books I've browsed, many also speak of daily routines with exact nap times, wake up times (whoever woke up a sleeping baby has clearly never had one) and feed times.
In the beginning, these routines stressed me a lot, as Lily had her very own routine and every day is a little different than the other. I beshoulded myself with how she should always get up at the same time, eat at the same time and poop at the same time, until I reminded myself that she is a human being and not a machine. I've written in previous posts that I feel many parents want their children to "function" as quickly as possible - sleep through, fall asleep on their own, feed at the same times - so they can quickly return to their previous life rhythm before baby.
I find requiring your baby to function demeaning. What if she's had a bad night and needs the eytra 30 minutes? What if she's just not so hungry today? What if it's hot and she's thirstier than usual? Sure, it is very tempting to read these books that promise your baby will fall asleep within seconds and then sleep twelve hours straight, but in the end they always include trickery and/or harming sleep trainings that deeply affect the bond between mother and child. For me, it is important that I see Lily as a human being with her own personality, needs and preferences. I cannot "train" her like a dog so she obeys when I need her to - and I don't want to do that. Imagine someone told you you had to eat, sleep and poop at the same time all the time, wouldn't you feel humiliated? I certainly would.
So does that mean I don't think a structure to the day is important for us? On the contrary. I think a daily rhythm that generally repeats itself is very important for babies and children as it gives them signposts within the day on which they can rely on. Little rituals help them realise when what is done and I am all for it. However, a baby doesn't know whether it's 7 or 8 am, neither does it know when you put it in bed half an hour earlier or later. I put her to bed sometime between 7 pm and 8 pm when she's tired, but I don't count the minutes anymore.
When you think about it, in the history of humankind, the clock makes up for probably the very last quarter of an inch in a very long rope. Humans had children long before the clock was invented. They fed their babies when they were hungry, put the down when they were tired and they lived on as well. I feel this time-picking isn't good for anyone. For the mothers it leads to frustration when your baby doesn't fall asleep at the same time as you intended to - and for the baby it's confusing because she doesn't know it's 4 o'clock now, she just knows she's not tired at the moment, so why go to sleep?
I feel grooving into a mutual rhythm also allows you much more flexibility. Especially in the first year the rhythm of the babies changes continually. The minute you think you've got her figured out, she's changed again - so why enslave you and your baby to a stupid routine made up by someone on the internet? For me it only led to stress, so we now trust the rhythm we've grooved ourselves in and I let her take over most of the day - at that age they're pretty good at telling you what they like and what not, so let's not drill that out of them, but listen carefully and enjoy more quality time and less looking at the clock.
When I was pregnant, and even before, I held smug views on baby sleep. First of all, I was convinced MY baby would have no trouble falling asleep because it would be so cocooned in love and warmth that it would happily nap off whenever she felt like it. I also pronounced myself clearly against dummies, white noise machines and all the other stuff that promises a "sound sleeping experience" for baby.
While my views on sleeping aids for babies still uphold essentially, I must concede I have a more open attitude towards them now. If there is one thing I have learnt as a new mother: Do not, under any circumstance, underestimate constant sleep deprivation. Lily is, generally, a good-ish sleeper. She's not a crier and usually slumbers off soundly on my boob. However, with her being increasingly interested in EVERYTHING ELSE but my boobs, this also becomes trickier at night.
During the day, she doesn't sleep more than 30 minutes in a row, which is driving me nuts. Also, I struggle to put her down. The last weeks, I have lain down with her in bed and nursed her, but as her nursing intervals become increasingly longer, that isn't the only go-to move anymore. Also, I don't always want to lie in bed with her all the time.
The only way she falls asleep without me being close or sucking my breast is in her pram. There she nods off gently and without any aid but the rocking of the pram - a dream sleep-in, which I wish she'd do in bed. Which is why I've recently thought, "Hey, what if only there were a bed that could rock?" Turns out, there is such a thing and while I didn't want a rocking crib, I'm starting to regret that now because I wonder if she could fall asleep in her rocking crib by herself during the day, so let's keep that in mind for baby number two, shall we?
Lily also doesn't take a pacifier. We've tried three months in when I was increasingly weary of being her human dummy, but to no avail. She simply doesn't like it (and we've tried various types). One part of me, the not-completely-knackered part, is happy she doesn't take it because it means we don't have to wean her off; however, my dominant completely-knackered part just wishes I could pop the pacifier in and she'd be sound asleep - as if!
There even was a point where I thought I could record my humming and just play it in a loop so she'd be tricked into believing I was still there, but then again, I don't think she's so stupid, and so I'd also have to fill a massive bag with rice, make it smell like me, add something that resembles breathing and occasionally caresses her head - and I think we all agree that would take it a bit far.
I feel like sleeping is a huge issue, regardless what you do. Whether you "sleep-train" them (against which I am clearly opposed, you can read about our sleep habits here), have them in bed with you, carry them around, or insist they sleep in their own bed during the day - sleep seems to be something to deal with for every family. So, in the end, I am glad she sleeps with us because she's at least cosy and falls asleep knowing she is loved.
Yesterday I was a little annoyed because I had to be in bed with her so long, then she threw up above all and I put her in the baby balcony to change the bedding and left her there for a while. Eventually, so tired and alone, she started wailing like she hardly ever does - a heart-breaking, angry and desperate screech which makes her head go red like a tomato. It took me twenty minutes of non-stop rocking and hugging to calm her down (serves me right) and eventually she clocked off on my shoulder, completely wet from the tears and sweat (I kind of have to cry just writing this).
In this moment, it became crystal-clear that I could never sleep-train and am glad she's with us for the night. How anyone could listen to such desperate wails and NOT take their child up is beyond my comprehension. I deem it to be cruel and demeaning - and utterly detached from natural motherly feelings. So, even if it sometimes frustrates me and I am warming towards the idea of some sleeping aids for the day naps, there is no other way for me than cuddling and rocking my baby to sleep.
And I am sure there will come the days when I will cry after the time she only fell asleep snuggled up with me - but this short cry of desperation still had to be, I hope you understand :-)
Nothing can be paralleled with the love a mother has for her child.
This is general knowledge, isn't it. It is also one of the reasons I wanted to be a mother - I wanted to experience this ravishing, consuming, making-you-die kind of love you hear from everyone. I remember a mother once telling me she always thought she knew what love was - until she was proven wrong when she had her children - for this emotion was so much stronger than anything she'd experienced until that point.
We read of mothers lifting cars to rescue their babies, we hear parents tell us they'd die instantaneously for their children, and so on and so forth. I must admit that this raw kind of love first frightened me when I was pregnant. I so wanted to feel this love, but was scared I might not be able to. What if I wouldn't love my own child enough? What if something was wrong with me?
Because of my anxiety and endometriosis, I was scared pretty much to the end of my pregnancy that I could lose her, so I restrained myself a little bit from bonding too much, so it wouldn't hurt so badly if something went wrong. And yet, I felt so much love surge through me when she kicked inside me, when she was communicating with me in her own way. I guess being torn between love and terror pretty much sums up parenthood.
When Lily was finally born - a week too early, mind you - and put on my chest, I was in awe. There was this tiny bundle and I wanted to protect her, but I must say that wave of love didn't immediately come. It was not that it was absent and I didn't NOT love her, but the first weeks were almost like an out-of-body experience in which I cannot entirely recall what I felt - there were so many raw emotions tormenting inside me, it's hard to press the finger down on it. And although I constantly worried she might not breathe; I broke into tears one night because I allowed myself to think one second that she could die, I still was scared I didn't love her enough. Probably because all the "propaganda" surrounding parental love was filling my head, I didn't feel I shaped up enough.
I have heard different stories from various parents, but, ironically, I usually hear about this deep-seated love from parents whose children are at least a few months old. Now that Lily is almost five months (five months! Can you believe it!), my love for her surges so easily through me, and on some days it's so much I don't know how to to even bear it (you know, the kind of love that makes you kind of aggressive; when you just HAVE TO pinch those little cheeks, nibble on those chubby legs, or threaten to just gobble her all up because she's so damn cute).
When speaking to mothers who had their baby a little time after me or around the same time, it is usually a good mix of emotions, and sometimes almost a wariness towards your child because you still have to get to know each other better.
And that is OK. I battled with the fact that I sometimes was overwhelmed, even wished for my old life for a moment, or thought "what have we done?". The weeks after birth are the most intense, I believe, a woman experiences in her life - much more intense than birth because there's so epidural and also not a limited time frame. Birth, also, is active. You push, you breathe, you scream.
And then there is silence. You are alone, mostly, with your baby at home. This little alien thing that wholly depends on you - and it scares the shit out of you, at least it did for me.
It was maybe because I'd been under the delusional impression that I'd somehow "grow up" as soon as Lily would be born. You know, be like a real adult. However, with this little baby bundled up in my arm, I was still me. Incomplete, anxiety-ridden, feeling-like-a-fraud-as-an-adult me. There was no "illumination", no clear path to follow, just because now I was a mother. Life was as confusing, challenging and frightening as before - and now I was supposed to take care of this innocent being!
When you read all these parenting books, you feel you can only fuck up. Suddenly the responsibility to mould an actual life seems ridiculously unattainable. There's no way you can turn this little bundle into an actual human being who will be kind, understanding and not hate you by the end you're done with them. I questioned everything. Should I take her into my arms now? Or wait another two minutes? Is she hungry? Tired? Angry? Annoyed? Cold? Warm? Devastated? Can I put her in the crib and risk going to the loo, or should I hold it until hubby comes back? Am I a bad mother if I DON'T take her into the bathroom with me because she's sleeping soundly? Will she suffer life-long trauma if I use nappies?
And so on and so forth.
In the end, I stopped reading and that would also be my advice, should anyone ask. I found one or two good books I rely on, but even so I try to listen to my instincts and figure out what works for us - Lily and me and Jakob - and not try a short-cut through a book. And for the love...don't get insecure when a mother of three dreamily tells you as a first-time mother how parental love is so great. It is, but when she was a first-time mother, it probably also took some weeks until she could clearly tell it apart from all the other emotions that were triggered from childbirth, breastfeeding and the fact that you now have full responsibility for a small human being.
So, remember, raising a child is a huge task, and our love for them carries us through it - so Keep Calm And Carry On, you're doing amazing!
The minute babies are involved, everyone has an opinion - and most people dump them unwanted on you. While I am sure most people simply seek to help, the overwhelming avalanche of information can make it hard to find YOUR way with your baby and listen to your instincts and not guidebooks. Said guidebooks can certainly help, but they're not sitting in your house with you and they also don't know YOUR individual child.
One distinct point of opinion I've heard various times now is "goodness, she's already spoiled", relating to the fact that Lily only falls asleep in her pram, in the carrier, rocked to sleep in our arms, or breastfeeding. The fact that she cannot fall asleep on her own has been labelled by many as "spoiled" in the best of scenarios and "dangerous" in the worst of scenarios.
Before I delve into the issue, let me outline our routine and why we do it that way. This is MY way, mind you, and if you as a mother do it differently and it works for you, please don't let this text give you the impression I judge you.
I deem the opinion that a baby can already manipulate their parents as nonsensical and see their need for closeness and safety as absolutely logical and not "needy" and co-dependent (I mean, it's a baby, of course it depends on you! What else is it going to do? Walk out of the door and buy food?). We never ever let Lily "cry it out" and she gets soothed the minute she needs it. We don't "wait it out", but we comfort her and show her much we love her. We see it as our duty to give her the ultimate sense of safety and love so she can thrive the best she can.
For starters, she sleeps in our bed. I have read so much debate about whether children should sleep in their parents' bed or not, but let me tell you about my experience. During pregnancy I was terrified I could accidentally murder her in her sleep and I bought a balcony bed and a bassinette, just in case. In her first night on Earth she was just a little bundle and still I had her in my small hospital bed. Immediately, I knew that the idea of me killing her in her sleep by rolling over is absolutely ludicrous. Parental instincts forbid that in my opinion, and in the early months she even slept under my duvet and when I got cold, I woke up, checked on her and gently pulled the duvet up, making sure she wasn't covered in it.
And the baby balcony, in case you're wondering, is storage now.
During the day Lily always gets cuddles and soothed when she's in distress. Either I wrap her in the wrap cloth or carrier, or I sit down with her, breastfeed and when she's fallen asleep I read or watch Netflix quietly. Her napping doesn't disturb my day, I incorporate it into it. Now, I know the minute you have two children or more, the daily routine cannot only suit one baby anymore, but that's a bridge to cross another time, and it still doesn't mean you cannot incorporate your child into the day, instead of needing it to function a specific way to suit you.
When I hear people say or read in books "your baby will never learn to be independent if you let it sleep in bed with you or rock it to sleep", I want to cry. First of all, it's an effing baby, OF COURSE it needs me and depends on me. I, for starters, don't know of any thirty-year olds who still need their mama's boob to fall asleep or want to sleep in bed with their parents. So that statement is nonsense.
Secondly, why do so many people, especially in supposedly civilised regions, have such problems with proximity? Why is the need for proximity seen as a means to manipulate, even to provoke? When Lily cries she never does it to manipulate me, when she seeks comfort, she doesn't do it out of spite, when she needs me to enter the scary realms of sleep, she wants guidance, not being spoiled. It baffles me how anyone can interpret it as a personal affront towards them - even a stand-off of powers where you have to dominate the baby, or else it dominates you.
Do we really want to think of our children in these negative terms? I, for sure, don't. Also because I believe it to be counter-intuitive to "teach children independence". First and foremost, I don't think independence is something a child can "learn". All you can do as a parent is equip your child's quiver with the right arrows and let it explore the world inch by inch on its own, always knowing you're there with her.
To illustrate I'll give you an example. Imagine two people stand in front of a large, dark abyss. Both need to walk a thin rope from one end to the other. Who do you think will be faster to take the courageous step onto the rope? The one who has people cheering him on from the back and someone standing down in the abyss, promising them to catch them should the fall; or someone who's standing there entirely alone, knowing in the abyss could be dragons, wolves or other unspeakable horrors that could kill them?
I am pretty sure we can agree the first one would walk first and feel much better doing so.
Why would anyone think a child feeling completely left alone will make a better adult? The only lesson learnt will be, "I cannot rely on anyone but myself, so I don't even bother asking for help." If that is what you seek from your child to accomplish, we may not wonder that depression and burn-out rates are sky-rocketing as we speak.
I may be proven wrong, but I believe that Lily will sleep in her bed earlier on her own BECAUSE she gets the support she needs now. And with sleeping alone I mean not only the fact that she'll sleep alone in her bed, but that she'll also enjoy it. We can only expand our radius of exploration if we feel safe where we are. Knowing that we always have a refuge to return will make us venture out into the dark more easily and readily - especially when we can rely on that said refuge is always reliable and at the same spot - that we don't have to "earn" our refuge. If I am not sure whether the refuge will still be there once I leave it, I might never leave out of fear.
Now, to the people who may say, "I let my child scream it out and he turned out fine". You don't know that. These scars run much deeper than the visible sphere and problems related to them may occur much later in life or be so smoothly incorporated into the character that it doesn't even strike you as a result of your emotional neglect. Also, I don't want my child to just "turn out fine", I want her to be the best she can possibly be - not in an ambitious way, but in the way that I have equipped her as good as possible. And, no, I don't think "preparing your children for the hardships of life by taking away relationship and love" is the right way to do it. I believe a human being fares much better by being confident, kind and able to ask for help.
Please don't interpret this text as, "if your child doesn't sleep in bed with you or you don't breastfeed it to sleep you're a terrible parent". This is NOT what I am saying. Every child is different and I am far from saying my methods are the only correct ones. I am just saying that whatever we do, we shouldn't take love off the table to "educate" our children, nor see them as combats in a stand-off. Why do we see human proximity and reliance on other people as something negative? We don't live in the war-era where this nonsense approach to child-rearing emerged.
Having said all this, it still sometimes makes me doubt myself when I hear people saying such things, but then again, there is no other way for me to do it, so it must be the right way for us. I, for once, could never let my child scream it out, as it breaks my heart. And, honestly, I don't know how anyone in sync with their paternal instincts could do such a thing...
During pregnancy and the early days of motherhood, I found - and still find - nothing more reassuring than to hear from other mothers how they've experienced it all - especially if our experiences overlap. Many of the topics approached are, well let's say, not pretty, but millions of women still endure them and most likely feel insecure and unsure whether they're the only ones suffering (which, as I've learnt, you never are).
In terms of pregnancy and birth I have encountered mainly fear in women concerning giving birth - the pain is well-ingrained in our minds from numerous Hollywood movies and TV shows where women sit spread-eagled on a chair, screaming the shit out of themselves. First and foremost, no one would deliver in that position, it makes the least sense, but the screaming, for me at least, was very real.
So let's start with the birth. I did all the bullshit of Hypnobirthing and breathing techniques and reached a state in which books and these classes really made me think I could breathe out my baby calmly and in control. Well, I was wrong.
Labour hit me hard and fast. Me and Lily entirely skipped the easing in part where I'd take a lovely bath, watch Netflix movies in the hospital bed and benignly smile with my husband about the imminent birth. Labour was so intense from the very early hours on, and came in such short intervals, that I was just clinging on for dear life, unable to speak and paralysed by the pain. Thankfully, at least, it was a quick labour and I was barely in the hospital for two hours when she was already born.
I wouldn't say my birth experience was traumatic, but it certainly was far from romantic.
However, birth, at least, is over in a matter of hours, but the pains coming with postpartum, mentally and physically, can drag on over weeks and months. First of all, breastfeeding. Oh my, the pain! After about three days of nursing Lily, my nipples were reduced to bloody craters and every time Lily latched on it was pure agony. I am a defender of breastfeeding (without meaning to pass judgement) and even I considered bottle-feeding after a week because I couldn't imagine that it would never NOT hurt.
However, thanks to my wonderful midwife and a bucket of Lansinoh nipple butter, I managed to overcome the worst and now we have a wonderful breastfeeding relationship. It did take about a week to get better, mind you, and grim determination is what it took to get to the other side, and now I am very grateful I did.
With the birth over and my nipples adjusting, there was still a plethora of pain to choose from. With a massive tear of the perineum my doctors warned me that sitting might be a problem; however, in the end it wasn't my perineum that gave me plenty of pain - it was good ol' haemorrhoids. Apart from being extremely painful and unpleasant, they're also a deeply embarrassing thing to have and I didn't really have any problems with them until the third trimester. About three weeks after birth I would get such incredible pains I was wondering if I might give birth to Lily's twin through my rectum. Creams, suppositories, nothing helped until I finally made an appointment at the hospital to get my ass checked out (pregnancy and childbirth are related to a lot of bodily humiliation).
In the end it apparently wasn't even haemorrhoids but a small polyp which irritated the area and which I have to massage via my vagina twice a week to soften and promote healing. I didn't even know you could have polyps up your arse - I thought they were restricted to noses...
Now you mustn't forget that during all these ailments you also have a little baby to look after. And apart from physical issues, there are also an abundance of mental ones. Not equipped with the strongest mental capacities per se, I was positively surprised to not head-plunge deeply into postnatal depression, but I still had my fair share of tears.
I remember Lily was sleeping next to me and I browsed through TikTok and when swiping down I landed on a video of a small, smiling baby. Far too late I realised the hashtag that went with it #infantdeath. Someone had really put a video of their dead baby on TikTok, commemorating their death day, and I saw it and did what every reasonable person would do after being a parent for a short time.
I bawled my eyes out.
I ran to my man, heaving with crying, and just spluttered I didn't want Lily to die. I was so hyper-sensitive to the subject that I immediately deleted TikTok and haven't used it ever since (I still see the smiling baby in my nightmares).
The psychological impact of having a baby paired with lack of sleep, hormones and anxiety is not to be underestimated. Even now that she is four months old, I am in permanent terror she might die. When she sleeps, I regularly check whether she's still breathing and when she ran a fever the other day I was in high alarm. Such an intense mental state also costs a lot of nerve and energy, in addition to physical shortcomings.
In short, birth isn't just the hours you spend in labour but the impact stretches for many more weeks. As I read some time, somewhere: For birth there are painkillers, but for motherhood there are not.
So, after I dropped the pregnancy announcement a few months back, I finally feel like writing more about it. I guess it lies in the nature of a person who's lost plenty of trust in herself and the world (way to sound pessimistic) to expect the worst to happen, but I want to be positive.
As you can clearly see I am very pregnant with only a few weeks to go until I can hold my precious baby in my arms. Pregnancy is a very strange and wonderful state to be in, and although I enjoy it thoroughly, it also terrifies me to think about all the things that could go wrong. Probably that's also because you have, like, a million of tests and appointments to get through, almost as if you were fatally ill and not just having a baby. I feel by turning such a truly natural event into something so medical, we women tend to lose touch with our intuition and basic instincts, but I don't want to sound too hippy-dippy - I am so truly grateful to live in times where the likelihood of me perishing in childbirth are marginally slim.
But let's not dwell on the medical stuff and focus on the beautiful things. Thankfully, I was lucky to have a quite easy pregnancy until now. No severe back pain, no swollen feet, no stretch marks (thank you, BiOil) and no nausea. As someone who got nauseous just looking at food even before I was pregnant, it came as somewhat of a surprise to see me struggle so little with nausea in the first trimester. I also didn't have any weird cravings, apart from a short-lived fancy for "spinach crisps", which, as far as my research goes, do not exist. The stereotypical craving for sauerkraut and pickles never emerged - thank heavens.
Emotionally, I can say it's been a bit more of a roller-coaster. As I suffer from endometriosis (and will write more about that story when I feel ready), there was a constant fear lurking in the corners of my mind that something may interfere with the pregnancy and make it more difficult, but I was blessed. Still, with a cocktail of hormones raging inside you, as well as all the new things happening with your body, it is unsurprising that your husband has to rock away your tears at night once or twice (a week ;-)).
Now, with the birth inching closer, I feel exhilarated but also notice I am thinking about motherhood and have thoughts about whether I will be able to do it the way I plan, but I guess there is no real "preparation" for being a parent beforehand and you just make it up as you go along.
I LOVED YOUR FATHER,
It's Halloween and time for some crazy pumpkin carving! This year, Jakob and I attempted a Harry Potter pumpkin, and even though it turned out to be more Harry Potter's retarded son (Albus? evil tongues may suggest), we are truly proud and enjoy our Harry Halloween. We got the template online and opted for two more traditional pumpkins (or could it be Ron and Hermione? Discuss. ;-))
Welcome your guests with a spooky pumpkin outside your door. I've always refrained from putting a pumpkin out because we don't have a house, but live in a flat. However, this year, I wanted to go ahead with it anyway. Because it is still indoors, I didn't want to use real candles and be blamed to burn down the house, so I went to Depot and bought LED candles that flicker. For only €1.60 per two candles, they look spookily real and save you from fearing to burn to death.
Pumpkins like the Potter pumpkin are inasmuch great because they do not only make for great Halloween decorations, but also for autumn vibes. Orange and red are a fantastic autumn combination that make a room infinitely cosier and prepare for the Christmas season - you just have to swap orange for green, actually.
If you don't want to leave it at carving, also check out my scrumptious Halloween recipes here.
Planning a wedding is said to be one of the most stressful experiences in life. Although I cannot vouch for that just yet, I have to say that my upcoming wedding has put me in front of numerous decisions, crises and sleepless nights. Long before even getting engaged, I vowed to myself I would not become a "Bridezilla" who would terrorise everyone and be stressed for the six months of planning.
And I am not (I think), yet the relentless thought of "this will only happen ONCE in my life" keeps sneaking up and occasionally brings my Bridezilla out nevertheless.
The most stressful aspect of planning a wedding I have encountered so far is bracing yourself about EVERYONE'S opinion on how a proper wedding should be. Cousins, aunts, uncles, mothers, sisters and brothers - they all think they can chip in and share their thoughts. To some extent, that's perfectly fine, as it is a family party, yet the whole "beshoulding" can really cost the last nerve of a bride.
The first problem already starts with the guest list when you have to invite that racist uncle, the cousin you hate or a friend's stupid boyfriend - out of manners. Am I impolite that I don't want to share my big day with someone I can't stand...weird.
But I am digressing. Weddings are first and foremost about compromise - unless you are ruthless and have plenty of money. OK, so the cousin 12 times removed shall be invited then and my cake shall not have marzipan, as apparently no one likes that (these are not necessarily real-life examples). Some compromises bear great fruits, others I have decided to simply put my foot down on and decide they are stupid and I won't do them - and here they are.
1) Freshly cut flowers
I have my wedding reception at a 4-star hotel and as much as I like the benefits of a hotel doing most of the work, they do have some weird idea of wedding planning. My hotel wedding manager constantly keeps sending me emails about details for "my decorator" or "florist". I don't have a decorator or florist. Who, in the times of Pinterest, needs to pump money into someone deciding what you like best?
Also, my hotel wedding planner proposed his house-in florist could make the bouquets for the tables - for fucking €400! Why would you spend such a massive sum of money on flowers that perish after a week? I politely declined, thinking he was a little bonkers and decided to have flower pots with alive flowers instead.
a) they can be given to guests as a present
b) you can keep them as a memory
c) a smaller flower costs about €2-5 and a simple pot about €1-2. In total, my flowers now cost less than €100 instead of 400 - and I get to keep the flowers - so do away with freshly cut flowers and save some money for dead flowers.
2) A DJ
If bands are your thing, sure go for it. I personally decided against one for my wedding, as I like the original voices to sing the songs. Perusing DJs, I found two things:
a) they are completely overpriced
b) their playlists are shit
Unless you don't have any music taste of your own and need someone else to compile a list, why pay someone for a job you could do better? In times of Spotify and Amazon Prime Music, there is easy access to massive music databases and even ready-made playlists you can adjust to your personal taste. I quickly decided against a DJ, but I have appointed someone to watch the music, so I don't have to bother with it during the night of my wedding party. Oh and by the way, that's entirely for free if you find someone to lend you their control desk.
3) The "Aperitif"
Handing people a welcome drink is a great way to say hello and start the wedding mood. However, this trend of "aperitifs" where they ask you to pay €17 per person for a lousy Prosecco is simply outrageous. The notion that people always have to eat or drink in every second of your wedding is idiotic and costs you even more money. I don't want to sound avaricious, but spending a fortune on your wedding so people can eat and drink all night and then adding another aperitif is too much to be asked, if you ask me.
4) A wedding photographer
True, weddings occur (ideally) only once in life and you want wonderful photos of the day - I do too. However, as soon as you mention "wedding" somewhere, the price gets automatically doubled and tripled. A wedding package for 3 hours for a whopping €1500 is insane, if you ask me. I asked my friends and colleagues whether they knew anyone in the photo business and soon found someone who would do it for a decent price and would personalise them to my taste, not the photographer's. It is shameful what kind of business is done with us brides, especially if you then end up with stuck-up, posed photos that look inauthentic and boring.
5) Wedding gifts
Obviously it's nice when people think of you and buy you something for your wedding. However, with couples increasingly living together well before their wedding days, gifting a mixer or salad bowl becomes increasingly obsolete.
Additionally, with more financial freedom and choices, most couples rather want to choose their own house items than simply be stuck with the ones your grandmother 4 times removed chose. A wedding gift registry is obviously also an option, but for me it feels even more brazen than asking for money.
Living in money-saving Tyrol, a money wedding is thankfully not a big deal, so we're only asking for a contribution for our honeymoon (Sweden, by the way, I will write the travelog on my travel blog floatingmylife.weebly.com/). Personally, with young couples still moving around, a bulky crystal set would also only be another box to carry...
Any thoughts you'd like to share on unnecessary items on weddings? I am always happy to hear from you.