Tuesday, 29 March 2011

Something to chew on

I thought this was a macaroon

Let's go for another bite

Not possible to eat? What a silly cookie!

Still it has an interesting taste, lets try for another bite!

Teeth-marks made by toothless Little H

Friday, 25 March 2011

Not exactly the right size

As a wanna-be yummy mummy, not only in the fashion sense, I try to “domesticate” myself in various ways. I have a long way to go. Pappa Kas says that I do not put my heart in it, but who can put their heart into cleaning pots and pans?

My preferred housework is baking and not scrubbing bathrooms, my chore of choice must be putting on a washing machine. If I have time to do some housework, I bake a cake, make home-made cereal or rearrange my wardrobe. Or I do crafty stuff…

Myth has it that I am a fairly crafty person. I can handle a sewing machine, I can halfway crochet, I can halfway knit and have many many other old-lady traits such as sewing on buttons, drinking tea, be partial to a glass of port on Sunday afternoons and wear woollen underwear when under minus five degrees Celsius outside.

I always have ambitions and ongoing projects. My I-want-to do-list is long, a knitted shawl for myself, some nice new pillows for the sofa, curtains for the down-stairs living room, and making some cute but funky clothes for Little H. The time for household chores are filled for the next couple of years at least. No time for vacuuming, have to sew trousers so that H has something to wear tomorrow…. – I am not sure such an excuse would work on Pappa Kas, but I might give it a try.

I have recently finished two knitted projects. Well finished and finished, buttons are missing, but all the treads have been fastened and the garments ironed. That is good enough for me, and certainly good enough for a fitting.

In a relatively good mood (I really wish those teeth would appear soon and stop the tantrums, on the other hand she might be a full-on moaner and will never stop, but that is not an option), I decided to try on the two knitted vests I have been working on for some time and felt rather smug and proud of the finished products.

Here are the results.

Too big

Not big enough

But I’m not giving up. The night will be spent watching a film and working on a new project.

Tuesday, 22 March 2011

A break from Little H

In the autumn I got an invitation from a group of colleagues, too good to be true- A weekend trip to the Alps. Living at a “castle”, skiing , yodeling, wearing lederhosen while drinking weiss-bier - the works. How could I decline? Or why should I decline?

I failed to realize that I would have to spend four days and three nights without little H, or perhaps I just repressed the thought at the time as I was so fed up with colic, spit-up, smelly diapers and so on, that I forgot that 99,9 % of the time I love being with our little funny, up-to-no-good squealing little charmer.
Happy H

Well, I went and had a great time. I only cried once because I missed Little H and I did not call home more than 11 times, 9 to Pappa Kas and 2 to Granny B. You can check my phone-record if you want.
 I am sure little H did not miss me a bit. On Thursday she was in a café where they sold home-made chocolate in all varieties. Guess who took her there? On Friday she was chauffer driven up to her grandparent’s cabin together with Pappa Kas and a ton of necessary baby supplies to spend the weekend being spoiled in all possible ways.

Grandad G and Little H in the mountains

When I arrived home at 8pm last night Pappa Kas was already in bed exhausted by the fresh air, the cross country skiing, Little H and her shenanigans and probably of being confined to a cabin with his parents in-law for a whole weekend. Pappa Kas is the best, there's no doubt about it.
I sneaked into Little H’s room, watching her sleep, together with Lucy Liu and Lagonxu. I could barely restrain myself from stroking her face, her fingers and the patches of darkish hair on her little head and to wake her up.

I was home; I was with Little H, exactly where I was supposed to be. But I'm going skiing again next year (if I'm invited).

 Heading for a fall...

Tuesday, 15 March 2011

Dance in the rain

Accidents never come alone. When one thing makes your glass appear half empty, my experience is that other events often take place at more or less the same time and almost empties the glass totally. Leaving you tired and worn down by life in general, making you forget all the wonderful things around you. At least it feels like this for me sometimes.

The last week has been a week where my otherwise fairly happy existence has been shaken by many big and small sad events. I am not going to write about them, but I guess that we’re all affected in some way of the tsunami and its aftermath in Japan. It leaves me feeling small, insignificant and powerless.

Other closer to home sad events has brought the suffering of millions of people on the other side of the earth to my doorstep in various ways.

Today is the day to count my blessings, and to reflect upon how wonderful, but fragile life is.

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass... It's about learning to dance in the rain.

Author Unknown

Friday, 11 March 2011

Doing it for the kids

Two weeks as a working mother, and it’s going rather smoothly. I can live like this. Little H and Pappa Kas are doing whatever they’re doing until I get home late afternoon, and by the smirks on their faces I guess that they can live like this too.

O' has made "there's something about Mary"
 hairstyle on Little H.
Styling product: drool
 Yesterday I actually took a day off to meet with the Post-Natal group aka. The Skinheads. I am sorry, but the name has stuck although the little ones now have plenty of hair. They all got teeth as well, all except Little H that is, but at least she has enough hair now so that we can guess the color of it. Little H’s great grandmother is saying. “ohhh she’ll be really dark”, while I’m more heading towards perhaps dark blond. As long as she soon gets some teeth she can be ginger for all I care…

It was great to meet up with the mummies again. I am the first of six who has gone back to work, and I was eager to hear the chat from the last couple of weeks. We were at Little O’s house and I felt very much at home. O’s mum is almost like me. She does not have dust on her brain, is not ashamed for not having the dinner on the table when her husband comes home and does not remember the lyrics to the songs we sing at the kids swimming class. Just like me!

When she sent a text inviting us for hot chocolate and home-made sweet buns my instant reply was:”yes of course”, but also: “is your mum doing the baking for you?” – How rude of me! I really need to start thinking before talking! O’s mum replied: “yes, the buns are already in the freezer”. Priceless!
I do not care where the goodies come from, as long as they’re tasty, and O’s Gran has a reputation as the Queen of Cakes, so I did not need to ponder upon whether to take the day off for Little H’s play-date or not.
So there we were, us mummies sitting in the sofa chatting, enjoying our tasty treats and admiring the little ones. We could not avoid talking about how great it was for the kids to be able to play together and how they clearly enjoys each other’s company, for only to discover that they were sitting each by him-/herself playing alone as far away from each other as they could get…

We’re doing it for the kids.

Tuesday, 8 March 2011

Little H takes a trip

For Little H, being quite new and all, there are many firsts. Recently they have mostly been firsts with pappa Kas, such as first day alone while mummy is working, first baby-swim class with Pappa Kas and probably many others that I am not told about. I am guessing my first hot chocolate for breakfast and my first 8 hour long marathon session on Skype with Amama Socco and Aitxitxe Sebas in Elorrio.

This weekend was also a family first, our FIRST cabintrip with a baby onboard. My good friend and fellow mummy-who-blogs, Marita (see:Den nye hverdagen) had invited us along with her family to a cabin in the mountains. 

I started packing on Tuesday piling clothes, bedlinen, diapers, travelbed, toys, wipes, porridge, bottles and countless other items on the table in the down-stairs living room. As we got closer to the weekend the piles of stuff grew and started spilling up onto the sofa and on the floor.

I had no idea of the amount of stuff we had to bring for little H. My two toilet bags and extra just-In-case-I-spill-red wine on my clothes extra extra clothes Were nothing compared to the vast amount of babystuff needed.

The drive to Veggli was a chapter in itself, but we managed to get there eventually. Enough said. After a rocky start the weekend was rather painless, it was brilliant really. Little H behaved quite well, trying to charm little J by squealing and smiling, but he did not buy into her charm. She is too young for him. J being 18 months old, does not have a lot of patience and interest in small drooling babies who cannot even walk (or crawl for that matter). He was a true gentleman though giving Baby H hugs when it looked like she needed it.
View from the cabin

 At the end of the weekend Little H's persistent nagging paid off and they played together on the floor to their parents delight. Even pappa Kas agreed that handsome and kind J is a strong boyfriend contender in 15 years time.

We managed two cross-country walks in beautiful weather during the weekend. Suddenly all the preparations and a full packed car were worth it when we sat down by the side of the track and drank hot chocolate, ate Kvikk Lunsj (Norwegian Kit Kat, but better and THE choc to have when being outdoors) and tasty oranges in the sun.

Sunday, 6 March 2011

First week back in the land og grown-upness and it is almost like I was never away. So far I like it and feel rather smug of how I have managaged both to get settled in work and be a mummy for Little H.

Let's sum up the week:

Monday: Slight delay on the train, as expected. Got to work, reclaimed my desk and explored my cup-board. Sadly I found no package of bisquits or other forgotten treasures.
I checked on Little H by texting pappa Kas a couple of times during the day, but made no phone calls and did not once hide in the loo to cry. Number of times I showed off pictures of little H: countless.

When I arrived at home, I was met by a cheery, but not ecstatic-to-be-reunited-with-mummy Little H and a rather smug pappa Kas. The first day had been rather painless, no tantrums, no accidents and very little spit-up. Beginners luck.
I was suspecting Little H to be on her best behavour to impress, just as she's doing when visiting her grandparents.

Tuesday: I was right. When I arrived back home Pappa Kas told me that I had no idea of how difficult Little H could be. After 8 months at home with her, I think that I have an inkling, but I could be mistaken. She had delivered three smelly packages, refused to eat her porridge and not wanted to play alone on the floor for so much as a second. Her supposed to be long morning nap lasted only 20 minutes. Poor Pappa Kas, I knew exactly how he felt. This is life with Little H, unpredictable, smelly, fun, challenging and fulfilling all in one, you have to take it or leave it, and leaving is not an option.

And so the week passed. By the end of it, when we packed our bags and headed toward the mountains for Little H's first cabin trip, both myself and Pappa Kas started getting more comfortable in our roles. Him settling into his dream job as a househusband and me slowly but surely re-entering the world of nail-polished ladies and morning commutes.

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