Thursday, 25 August 2011

As boring as - curtains...

There are not that many things my mother and Pappa Kas’ mother has in common, it is the love of their childen of course and the unhealthy obsession with Little H, but otherwise, my mum is blond, my mother-in-law dark, my mum cooks as little as possible (sorry mum), while my mother in-law never stops . But there is one thing they both agree on – curtains!

When we moved into our house four years ago, we did a lot of redecoration, tearing down walls, building new walls in other places –you get the point. The couple who lived here before was in their 60-ies, very traditional, mature, and proper… so you might get an idea of what the house looked like.
We fell in love with the view and the location; we saw potential for a happy family life in the green house on the hill with apple trees in the garden and enough bedrooms both for visitors from Spain and a handful of kids.


View to the left

View to the right















After having done massive renovations on the top floor, we were proud of our new living room and kitchen and very eager to show it off to the families. We invited my parents for an inspection. As soon as my mum stepped into the living room she uttered: “It will be nice in here when you get some curtains…” Pappa Kas’ mum said almost the same the first time she entered the same living room, but it was more in a surprised way: “Where are the curtains?”


And here they are:

Curtains made by me! (sorry for crap photo)


Every time I tell Sergio that I want curtains or blinds for a room and that I am going to make them myself, he politely asks if it’s not easier if we buy them. What he really means is that then he will get them this week and not in six months.

Well, if I found curtains that I liked I would certainly buy them. But the curtains I see in my mind or in interior magazines are never to be found anywhere. So I buy meters and meters of fabric and put it in the cupboard with the other meters and meters of fabric I have stored and am planning to make all sorts of lovely stuff from.

This time I only spent a month making them, they did not cost an arm and a leg and I am quite proud of the result (hence a blog entry on the topic).

Monday, 22 August 2011

It was only beginners luck

I should have known that I wrote too soon when I wrote about how great Little H’s first days at the nursery had been.
We’re now at the start of week three, another fresh start and a spot of sunshine, but the nursery is not all fun and games anymore. Not for Little H, neither for her parents.

Snuggling with Pappa Kas

This week started as last week ended. Like this...
Friday morning everything was fine, Little H drank her milk, changed from her pajamas into clothes that I dared send her out of the house with, and got ready without major tantrums. The only delay, but I’m getting used to this by now, was that she took everything out of the bathroom drawers when I was putting on my make-up adding the finishing touches before leaving the house. She might be thinking that I spend too long...

So far so good, when we got to the nursery she seemed exited by the prospect of spending another day with her newfound pals and the abundance of bright plastic toys with bite-marks. Smoooth I thought, I might even catch an earlier train. So I took of her jacket, then shoes, put on indoor-shoes, got her breakfast box out of her back-pack. By that point Little H was being rather clingy, clingy in the way she normally hangs on to Pappa Kas when he is around. This was a new experience for me, but I would rather that her desperate need to be with her mum came at another more convenient time, as I was going to catch my train and therefore no time for long-lasting cuddles.

It is not all that bad (for me at least)I am being a little comforted by seeing Little H crying and waving her arms, kicking her legs and crying big crocodile tears when I leave her at the nursery. At least she is showing that she is attached to her mother and wants to be with her, I am thinking happy with my mothering skills.



Sad little H - This breaks my heart

So on Friday I stood behind a corner outside the nursery for a couple of minutes trying to listen for my Little H’s desperate cries for help, but I heard nothing so I took a peak through the window. She was then sitting happily on one of the assistants’ laps, eating her breakfast sandwich and giving one of her performances: talking enthusiastically with her whole body, smiling and stroking her ears with fingers full of mackerel in tomato sauce.

So much for missing her mum….

Little H has just shown her mum the sailboat she has bought her parents...

Friday, 12 August 2011

What's the hassle?



Little H takes a taxi to the nursery

This week I thought I would have several hilarious blog entries on how Little H refused to stay at the nursery, having wild tantrums, crying crocodile tears and so on when me and Pappa Kas wanted to leave her in "toddler heaven" - a house full of friends to play with, exciting new toys and entertaining grown-ups who spontaneously starts singing. I was wrong.
There is nothing to report! No trouble so far what-so-ever. What does that say about her parents, when we can wave goodbye, leave her in the hands of strangers to get back seven hours later and Little H refuses to come home with us?

Well, as a friend put it (when I expressed my concern that the staff must think that we are bad parents when Little H doesn't cry (not so much as a little gulp and sad eyes) when her parents leave and does not want to go home when we come to pick her up: "they are used to all sort of parents at the nurseries..." 
Thanks!


Saturday, 6 August 2011

A(nother) geek in the house

When I met Pappa Kas towards the end of my final year at university, my friends called him the Geek. Was it due to his studies in computer science, his glasses or the fact that he spent a lot of time helping me in the computer lab? Or all of the above? Well, he got me fooled, I fell in love with a computer geek over long hours in the lab, but his efforts were not in vain . As a reward for his hard work I invited him home for tea. A cup of tea must mean something very different in Spain, as I think he was really disappointed when he only got a cup of chamomile (without sugar).

In the end tea and web-design led to almost 10 years together, a marriage and little H. You look through tinted glasses when in love, but I guess that we both have our flaws that only came out after living together for a while. Mine might have been a surprise, but with a boyfriend nicknamed the Geek, I should have known what I was getting into.
Well, It could have been worse. His incureable virus is a fascination for PC’s, game consoles,electronic boxes of various sorts, wires and gadgets and other stuff that I do not have the faintest idea of what is / how it works. I am not saying that I don’t like my Iphone, my laptop and my Ipad, but not so much that I take them to bed with me…

I guess that I should have seen it coming, that Little H is very much like her father. She might look like me with her blue eyes, round face, Buddha belly and blond hair, but she must have her father’s geek genes.

So far she has deleted several apps on my phone and she knows how to use various remote controls. Yesterday while Granny B was babysitting, she turned off the TV after the children’s program (good girl), to show that that was enough telly for one day. She turns on the stereo and signals when she wants to change the CD. She knows how to show off when on Skype with her Spanish relatives (plays shy, claps, dances all depending on the mood of the day) while she does not when “normal” TV is on.






She gets stroppy when she cannot play with our laptops. Her fingers run over a keyboard as soon as she gets a chance. And she knows how to browse pictures on our phones. The other day I found the following apps on my Ipad: My first puzzles, Phone for Kids, Paint sparkles, and a really annoying one which plays animal sounds when you tap the picture of the animal.

I certainly did not install these, I'm blaming little H (with good assistance by Pappa Kas).

video
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