Free Love Alda Monthly Onesie Stickers

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Capturing the birth of a baby for parents is more than a profession for me.  As a mother of three it truly means something to me.  Making life-long friends is often a perk to what I do & seeing babies’ whose birth I captured reach their milestones (and sometimes even photographing those milestones) gives me so much joy.  The photo of Su-Alet was taken shorthly before her first birthday just as she started to walk.

The Love Alda Monthly Onesie sticker template gift is may way of encouraging you to celebrate your baby’s milestones. These memories are what we parents are about.  Drink them in.  Capture them.  Celebrate them.

To collect your stickers (and or loads of other maternal comforts) register at www.lovealda.com/onesie-stickers   When you confirm your subscription the template will be emailed to you.

PS:  If you like this freebie why not share it with friends?  Or share some mile stone story in the comments below with our parent community.

PPS: Please help me to serve you better by completing this quick questionnaire  It should not take more than 5 mins and if you leave your email address at the end I will send you a Babygroup Discount Voucher x 

The Little Blue Beetle | It’s the Journey that Matters, by Love Alda

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In our early years my mother drove a light blue VW beetle.  It was a happy little car – overloaded with vitamin D from always being parked outside in the sun.  It had fake, tan leather seats which burned our thighs and smelled funny whenever Lielie, Moemfie and I would bundle into the back (which had no seatbelts and no kiddies car seats).

We had a garage at our home in Pretoria, as well as in Acia Park, but my father’s adult, eventually slightly better cars lived there.  I felt sorry for them, but respected them.  They were clean, neat and serious. They didn’t get much sunlight and smelled important.

The blue beetle had a hole in its exhaust, which made its cheerful tuk-a-tuk-a-tuk song even louder – much to the embarrassment of my mom whose arrival would be announced from 2 km away.  I loved it.  Hearing it in the distance meant I could let go of the worry that would creep into my heart whenever the blue beetle would disappear around the corner with only my mom in it – off on an errand or to write and exam for the psychology degree she was studying part-time for.  And when its big smile bumper would finally turn into the driveway, it was greeted with the same enthusiasm radiated by baby chicks welcoming their mother bird back from her food gathering trip.  We fought over who would bump a ride up the driveway on the side of the little blue car and scrambled to discover what surprises it had brought back with it.

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Not all surprises are pleasant. On one such occasion my mother got out of the car with what looked like a put-out velt fire on her head.  Instead of her beautiful jet black hair, a cheap perm and colour had left her with smoldering red stumps.  Moemfie started to cry that mom looked like a Thundercat and I started to think of ways to cover the debris around my poor mother’s face.  It was awful and she knew it.  To this day I remember her mourning her ruined crown in my father’s arms –  the only thing visible of her being the singed red hair against his dark, puffy jacket.

[Read more…]

Memoirs of a Middle Child: A Celebration of Childhood, Motherhood and Everything in the Middle

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I was overcome before I had even open the gift my mother handed me that Friday morning in June. It was a book. I could see the cover through the white plastic bag (my mother does not share my fondness of making the wrapping a gift on its own). It was Dr Seuss’s “Oh the places you will go”.

“Congratulations! Today is your day. You’re off to Great Places! You’re off and away!”

With one simple gift and not a single word spoken she had hit the ball out of the park. As I stood there with my its-feeling-sorry-for-myself-day hair – tea cup in my hand – I felt it. A connection with my mother so perfect and so unexpected that I froze – scared that any sudden movements or words would startle it away.

You see I am a middle child of the 70’s. Allowing myself to feel understood is like cheating – on myself. And yet on that particular morning my mom got it righter than right and cheating felt good!

“You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have speed. You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best. Whereveryou go, you will top all the rest…. Except when you don’t. Because, sometime, you won’t.”

I had hit the ‘except when you don’t’ with my youngest of three not even a year old and the pressures of being a working mother getting the better of me.

“On and on you will hike. And I know you’ll hike far And face up to your problems whatever they are.”

I didn’t open or read book until a couple of days after. Knowing what the book was about was enough. Shortly after I started writing Memoirs of a Middle Child. It is a celebration of childhood, motherhood and everything in the middle.

“And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and ¾ per cent guaranteed).”

 

Memoirs of a Middle Child is the personal accounts of Alda Smith, middle child, mother of three and birth photographer.  To subscribe to Memoirs of a Middle Child you need to subscribe to the Love Alda Newsletter.