Fieldtrip - Little H goes rural

Mmmmmm Waffles

On Saturday the weather was fantastic. You would not believe it the way it was raining yesterday and how it is pouring down today. I guess that this is the typical Norwegian weather in July; unpredictable, often wet and clammy, with a dash of sunshine now and then. I think that I have read somewhere that the most profitable month for the sun-bed studios is July. I do not doubt it.


To make the most out of the little sunshine we had, we packed the car and drove to Blaafarvevaerket approximately 40 minutes drive from our house. The reason for picking exactly this place was easy: A children’s farm with animals, a small beach, nice walking paths, a spectacular waterfall and home-made waffles, in other words: something for everyone.


Pappa Kas and Little H



I was very excited to put little H next to a chicken, a goat, a piglet, and other foul smelling small creatures for wonderful photos of the grinning child and stroking the fur of friendly animals. Those photos would be this year’s Christmas presents already sorted. Good plan!

As soon as we entered the gate of the little farm little H’s sleepy eyes got wide open upon the sight of cows, goats, hens and a couple of pigs, all in more or less miniature sizes. It was just like in her book of animals, but smellier… We pointed and made animal sounds and behaved like idiots, all to Little H’s amusement. I think that we were more entertaining than the animals, for both Hanna and the other visitors.



Touching smelly animals



We tried to approach a small goat, no luck. We tried to approach a little rabbit, then a monster one, no luck. Little H was clinging fearfully to either Pappa Kas’ legs or her mums hair. After a while when Amama, Aitxitxe, Pappa Kas and myself had petted various sticky farm animals, Little H got a bit more confident and put a finger on the fur at the back of a goat. That is probably the closest she got to pet a farm animal that day, and none of the photos taken were suitable as Christmas presents.



We did not only visit the little farm, but we walked up a very steep hill, saw a beautiful waterfall, had waffles, walked down a very steep hill on the opposite side of the waterfall, realized that we had to turn around as the path ended. We then went up the very same steep hill past the waffle place and down the first hill we climbed up and to the car. I think that Pappa Kas was the only person who did not sleep in the car on the way home, and that was lucky as he was driving…

She's not reading the map for us again!

They’re back!

When one set of grandparents go on holiday another pair comes along to claim their percentage of Little H’s unconditional love, wet diapers, dripping chin, tantrums (as when the strawberries are all gone) and all the singing and dancing (squealing and wobbling from side to side) . Granny B and Granddad G left to go on two weeks holiday the day after Aitxitxe Sebas and Amama Socco arrived. I do not think Little H can stomach the whole family's love in one go, so it is good to have one set of grandparents over at the time.

I believe Gran and Granddad have experienced some of the pain it gives to have their first grandchild far away (even though it is maximum a two hours drive to their cabin). We have kept them updated by teary (Gran) telephone conversations, a large number of picture messages and text reports.

Little H is fascinated by the Iphone, and amazed by the features, such as that you can hear grandparents voices, look at pictures of yourself, play music, take photos, use it as a keyboard (some kind of app. For kids) and hang up whenever you are tired of the voice in the other end.
We know people who gave their 1-year olds an IPad for their birthdays, but poor H, she has to settle for grabbing her parents IPhones whenever they are within reach.



Aitxitxe and Little H



Amama and Aitxitxe arrived with a broken red wine bottle staining all the clothes in one of the suitcases, luckily there were plenty of other bottles wrapped in bubble wrap which survived without any damage. My summer was saved.

 When Little H and Pappa Kas went to the airport to pick them up, little H was amazed to experience her grandparents in 4D after many months of only seeing them and talking with them via Skype. However, it did not take long before ice was broken and Little H and Amama glued together, touching, talking and gesticulating (two weeks into the visit, it is still the same).

Little H and Amama

And what do us parents do? Escape as soon as H is in bed, going to the cinema, visiting friends together, hand over little H to Amama if there is a whiff of something from her diaper. Who said that having parents in law visiting was tiring?

Happy birthday to H - part 1 of 2

On the 10th of June Little H turned one! Can you believe it? It is one year ago since the little bundle of joy stepped (well, was pushed) into our lives, giving us sleepless nights, spit up on our sweaters and pee on our trousers. Not to mention her darling smile, her chubby little tummy, her few strands of hair and the way she laughs. It’s impossible not to love her.

In spite of thinking that it is naff to celebrate babies’ birthdays, I decided that I cannot be a worse mummy than the others, so let’s throw a party, no let’s throw two - to make sure we celebrate in style!

So this is Friday: The Family Party.

As you might know Little H has been feeling under the weather since returning from our holiday in Denmark. It’s been on and off and we were certain that the nastiness must have passed. Nevertheless a party had to be held, Little H feeling a bit low could be down to nerves before her big day.

The guests were due to arrive at 5 pm. At 4.15 pm Little H almost passed out in Pappa Kas arms. It was time for a nap. The snot was running, her eyes blank and her forehead could be used for frying eggs. The wee lassie did not consider that I had been up until late the night before baking cream cake AND cheese cake, had been running from shop to shop in pouring rain to get materials to make a princess crown, and that I had spent all my pocket money on a new cute (but cool) denim dress for the birthday girl.


Since Pappa Kas’ part of the family is located on the “Continent" (to be exact, Elorrio, Bizkaia, Spain). Amama Socco and Aitxite Sebas were not able to make it on time. I believe that their flight arrives sometime Thursday afternoon, so no panic – yet.




Ouch Gran don't ruin my hair!



No hats at the table, please!

The by invitation only guest-list consisted of: Granny B and Granddad G, Auntie Janne and Great Grandfather and Great Grandmother, so the Nyhus clan was heavily represented. 100% to be exact. The troops arrived just as we heard baby H cry of boredom, so as the good host that I am I welcomed the guests while Pappa Kas changed and dressed Little H.


The guests brought a mountain of presents and we certainly do not need to buy Little H any summer clothes any time soon. Funky cotton and denim trousers, t-shirts, sandals – the works. Her Auntie had of course bought a noisy toy, but she was forgiven when she also handed over two small picture books of the type Little H loves (she is a smart one reading books already). Her Great Grandparents had also gotten her clothes and a super nice but practical purple nursery backpack with butterflies on it. I wish they had had one for me as well. When we tried it on her, she cried and was clearly uncomfortable- so she’s not ready for the nursery yet (neither are her parents).


We gorged on cakes, chocolate, fruit salad and more before Little H started rubbing her eyes and telling us that the party was over by waving furiously from her throne. Well, when her royal highness says that the party is over, the party is over.


We said goodbye to our lovely and generous guests, thanked them for the very nice and extravagant presents and went to fetch the winebottle….

End of part 1





Little H on holiday

We spoke about it for very a long time before we made any decisions, contemplating where to go, what to do, the budget, the timing, how many diapers to bring, mode of transport and countless other variables before we reached the decision, that yes, we are going on holiday!
For a while we dreamt about going south, somewhere warm, and we did indeed go south, but not that far away. We just got in the car (after having packed for two full days), drove for six hours and in a snap! we were in ..... Denmark!

We rented a house close to the small town of Hornbæk (yes, where the wellington boots are from), and did nothing else than go for walks, play on the grass, on the beach or inside with Little H, watch the rain, walk in the rain, and sleep long afternoon naps.

During the day, which started with Little H waking at 6 am or before, we did next to nothing. We were just being, being together, being a close family, being ourselves, relaxing, playing, reading and going for long walks. It was just what the three of us needed.
Now back to work and a very hectic week, I have almost forgotten how nice the week was. But just now I started looking at the photos and instantly my breathing slowed down, my shoulders sank, my emerging forehead wrinkles softened and I felt myself smile.



Little H on the beach



Lucky H

Yesterday Little H vent for a check-up at the local Health Centre. I suspect it being more an appointment to check her parents than her royal highness herself, so I tried to send Pappa Kas alone, fat chance.
The nurse told us that little H is a happy, active, talkative little girl with talent for clapping things together in order to make noise. Yes, that is correct, but live with “it” for 24/7 and the noise gets to you.
This is the way she is manipulating strangers so that when we moan over how difficult she can be no one believes us. Her grandparents just shake their heads and say: “I have no idea what you are talking about; she is an angel whenever we spend time with her”. Yeah right, I think that she has already found out who to suck up to for great presents. You go girl!

Things Little H can do which I cannot:

• Crawl at the speed of Herbie
• Smile and laugh when farting
• Make coughing noises to be noticed
• Lift her hands over her head to show how tall she is when she has lost interest in her food
• Eat small stones (almost unnoticed)
• Pee when naked, often on her parents clothing
• Drink directly from the wine bottle (don’t ask)
• Throw any unwanted food on the floor and then stretch out her hand to demand something else
  
  

But who can resist such a little charmer?

Another Family Visit

Last week, during some of the Easter break we had visitors from far far away. Pappa Kas’ cousine Naiara and her husband Alex came all the way from Northern Spain to experience the snow, the cold, the polar bears in the streets and all the other features which adds up to the Norwegian Experience.

Sadly for them it has been between 15 and 20 degrees Celsius and sunny for the past fortnight. Not exactly what they expected, but they just have to come back another year and make sure that it is in cold and dark January. I cannot guarantee a polar bear, but cold and snow they’ll more than probably get. And Pappa Kas will be happy to get some help with shoveling snow from our driveway and delighted by the audience when jumping off the veranda into the soft hills of snow just shoveled.

It is nice having family staying, and especially nice when they bring my special friends Rioja, Serrano and Chorizo along. During my maternity leave I almost emptied the wine-racks, but with these recent visits we are re-stocking and I hope the bottles will last until the next visit from Elorrio (in June). Otherwise I have to visit the “Wine monopoly”, where I have not needed to set my feet in several years.

And it is of course nice for Little H to see family and to get the extra attention she craves. It is much better having four grown-ups applauding her tricks around the breakfast table and to have four people to exhaust when she wants to practice running, but are unable to do so unaided.

So if you want to come and visit we can offer free room and board in exchange for a good bottle of wine and a couple of hours of babysitting.

Hanna and her men 
(this time Pappa Kas and Tio Alex)

Spring has sprung

Spring has sprung and I have started running again, but this is not what today’s entry is about. I just wanted to show off by saying that I have been running again, it’s a big deal for me. I did it by my own free will, without new running shoes, a fancy new pair of tights; I did not even have a new playlist on my Ipod! So it was quite a hurdle…

Back to the spring. With the lovely weather our intentions were to spend last weekend outside, and on Saturday we went walking on the paths in the hills of Drammen together with Little J and his parents.

The excursion had been planned for days and the back-packs were full of goodies. We had chocolate bars, hot chocolate, waffles with jam and with cheese, watermelon, oranges, grapes, bananas and juice, water and ice coffee to drink. I am sure we had more edible stuff, but that was as far down in our bags as we got.

Inexperienced as I am (in all ways of being a mummy), Little H was dressed to sit in her pram and look cool. She wore brown funky trousers (Pappa Kas always sings MC Hammer when he sees them), and a white woolly cardigan. On her feet she had leather soled socks. Well, the hat was on and I had put sun cream in her face so all was not bad. Had forgotten her sunglasses though... Can't remember everything.

We walked along the snow-free paths and found a playground / outdoors nursery complete with a sand box and swings. Little J jumped into the sandbox dressed in his appropriate waterproof all-in-one suit and Gore-Tex boots. What could I do? Little H was whining in her pram desperately trying to free herself from the straps keeping her from the mud and sand.

I said “ehrmm well, Little H does not really have the appropriate clothes on does she?”, while I lifted MC H. Junior down and into the wet sandbox, trying to place her on a wollen blanket I had brought, hoping she would sit still for a little bit. Nope, she wanted to walk, to crawl, to steal Little J’s shovel, to eat sand and all other activities that her mother should have foreseen a little girl of ten months would want to do…

“ I guess I need to get Little H one of those suits if she is going to play outside now during spring” I said and little J’s mum replied: “I never put on him anything else, could not be outside playing without such a suit this time of year”.

I took Little H, with her before so “funky” outfit now full of sand and dirt, under my arm and went to eat waffles on the bench where no specific outfit was needed.

Who's having the most fun?

Visitors from far far away

They arrived on Tuesday. Two almost three months without Little H was enough. No video calls via Skype, photos or telephone conversations could satisfy the need for touching and squeezing Little H, so they packed their bags and off to cold and snowy Norway they went. Who? - Amama Socco & Axitxe Sebas of course.
They left sunny Elorrio and flew north to spend a week with us here in Lier. Well, ‘us’ I write, which is not entirely true. I am sure that they would not have noticed if me and Pappa Kas slipped off for a day or two. The attention is all on Little H, and who can blame them?
Little H is of course overjoyed. Having an audience all day is probably what she was craving, not being enough with Pappa Kas during the day and me when I get home from work in the afternoons. We also get distracted by the silliest things, like making dinner, keeping the house tidy and watching the news on TV. Now she has her grandparents undivided attention.
She gets to “sing”, clap, bathe and sleep with an audience, and she does her best to keep them entertained. As I am writing this I can hear her chatter from the living room downstairs and her grandparents’ responses. It warms my heart.
And tonight me and Pappa Kas are going out for some quality time for the second night in a row.
Thank you – Socco and Sebas!

Happy grandparents out in the snow

and of course - Little H is a happy bunny as well!

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

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.

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.

Skiing for the boy(s) and shopping for the girls

We survived the weekend without Pappa Kas - no problem. I guess he survived without us as well, but he was looking pretty rough when he came in the front door after Little H’s bedtime Sunday night. I got the story little by little: sauna, tequila, aquavit and the usual shenanigans. In other words: a perfectly normal company skiing trip.
When I go on a skiing trip it is totally different. I’m in bed by 10 pm and up by 7 am to wax skis, make a packed lunch and to be the first one to hit the slopes. No stronger beverage than cod liver oil is consumed.

Look what I bought with
Pappa's card!

So what did we do over the weekend? We certainly did some shopping, had coffees and some girlie chat. I was planning to go on a big spending spree with Pappa Kas’ credit card, but it was hard to stay focused on the shopping when Little H constantly chatted (shrieked in delight) to staff in the shops and old ladies kept saying things like “what a nice little boy!” and “what’s his name?”. With other words: Just another usual day out and about with Little H. 

Sunday night I tried to keep the little bundle of joy awake until Pappa Kas came home, but I did not stand a chance. Little H started getting tired (read grumpy) around 6 pm. We then went to have a bath, which she loves, in order to buy us some time as Kas was sitting in a traffic jam somewhere (read: having a burger stop).

When Little H’s lips started to turn blue and her toes and fingertips looked like mini raisins, bath-time was over and I tried to lift her out of her little tub. She protested wildly, we are talking her much feared high-pitched screams (see video: chitty chat) but after having given her a toy to chew while singing one of her favorite songs (not the poo one, but the Wheels on the bus) she calmed down.

When Pappa Kas opened the front door a few minutes after Little H had fallen asleep I was already standing in the kitchen with a bottle in the one hand and a bottle opener in the other- Hora Feliz!

It’s Friday!

We have a song, well, one of many songs in the Castro-Nyhus household, which goes like this: “It’s Friday! It’s Friday!...” and so on. We also have a rap on poo, and a ‘trying-to-buy-time- until-the-food-is –ready’ song. The rap both has a Spanish and an English version and a variation so that it works for farts as well, in both languages of course.

Today it’s time to sing the Friday song. For me it does not really matter as I’m always on holiday. Yes, holiday, that is what my mother in law and the rest of my Spanish family calls maternity leave. Are they kidding? There’s no nine to five here, rather six am till eight pm and an extra nightshift on top.

But I am sure Pappa Kas was singing the Friday song when he left this morning, ready packed for a weekend of down-hill skiing, drinking in the sauna, drinking in the Jacuzzi, going to after ski, you get the point. He’s off on a skiing weekend with work, while leaving me and Little H home alone. This leaves me with 48 hours alone with full diapers, spit-up, snots and porridge stains everywhere. While on the other hand I get the happy, energetic, charming and laughing little H all to myself.

And what are our plans? Shopping and hanging in coffeeshops of course- pappa Kas left us his credit card.

A little Lady who likes to lunch

Sergio’s Senoritas

Pappa Kas has many female admirers. They love to spend time with him, to play with him and his toys, listen to his charming accent and laugh at his bad jokes. And he, on the other hand, loves to spend time with his little ladies, to woo and entertain them for hours and hours on end. How do I cope without being jealous?

Lucky for me these female admirers are all under 8 years old.

What makes him so attractive? I think I have picked up a few of his tricks. Where other grown-ups sit in the sofa sipping coffee talking about the weather, Pappa Kas sits at the kids table with his hot chocolate discussing the latest Wii games or listens attentively to stories about who-said-what-to-whom in the nursery that day and why it was unfair - without interrupting.
I have gotten accustomed to our friends daughters saying that they want to go to and visit Sergio and have no idea of my name or that I even exist. I try to bribe them with home-made cookies, but they just grab them off the table and run off to play with their favorite Spaniard.

Now, after the arrival of little H, Pappa Kas has gotten fierce competition. The teeth-less princess-dressed little ones no longer flock to our house and squeal of delight when they see Pappa Kas, but rushes past him in search of Baby Hanna. Last week we went to visit a family where their three charming daughters are honorary members of Pappa Kas Fan Club, and whom he absolutely adores. I am proud to tell that these girls have (finally) started to remember my name, so I am making progress with my cookies. At least I was making progress until now...


I did not see Pappa Kas' face when the grown-ups if the Castro-Nyhus household were referred to as Baby Hanna and the others by his Senoritas, but I bet he was shocked and disappointed. I guess that he understood, at least a little bit, how I feel when I also want play, but the girls only has eyes for Pappa Kas.

Now we're even
- and beaten by a baby.



Pappa Kas with Audrey, Ashley and Adriana





Little H meets royalty

One of the reasons for going to Elorrio (in addition to visit friends and family) was to have a second Christmas Eve. Call me shallow, call me materialistic, but when we got the opportunity to celebrate “los Reyes Magos” (the three wise men and their bearing of gifts to Jesus) on the 6th of January, I could not decline.

The tradition as celebrated by the Castro’s and Uribarren’s are, as far as I understand, something like this: The Magi comes from the Orient on their camels to visit children during the night of the 5th. As their distant relative Santa, they visit everyone at night leaving presents under the tree and the children set out milk and cookies to feed the Magi after their long travel. I was surprised to hear that such royalty as the Magi is only offered milk and cookies after their long strenuous journey and no local delicatessen. No caracoles /forest snails (eaten for lunch on the 6th), or morcilla, Spanish blood sausage, not even a small cup of Rioja – what a shame, all that way for milk and cookies!

Little H charmes the king

On the night of the 5th we went to the local square and watched the parade of the three kings and their men and donkies greeted the local townspeople. Little H was unaware of all the fuzz, but the square was buzzing with kids high on sugar and with letters in hand. Some kind of queue formed in front of the City Hall where the king’s thrones had been set up. It was time for the little ones to hand over their letters and say their please can I have a horse/ Lego Robot/Little brother for Reyes.


Pappa Kas and Little H



As this was a photo opportunity not to be missed, and that I am too old to hand over my own list, Little H and Pappa Kas stood in the queue waiting patiently to drip drool on one the Kings’ cloak. Pappa Kas assured me that he had sent the “I want” list by e-mail to the Magi, and that we were safe that way, but it never hurts to meet in person. I was certain Little H would make quite an impression and we would be showered with gifts the next morning. And so it was.
Little H sat on Melchior’s knee stroking/patting/slapping his chin, and I think I could hear her softly whisper “new leather gloves for my mum” in the Magi’s ear. Whatever her trick was - it worked. The next morning I got my gloves, Pappa Kas his Nutella and Little H her noisy blinking toys – exactly the items she must have whispered to the Magi.



Pappa Kas gets his wish fulfilled



An epic journey

Little H out and about

Our visit to Elorrio did not exactly have a flying start. We left Lier, the cold and the snow on the 29th of December and headed south to celebrate New Years with family and friends in Elorrio. 


The flight from Oslo to Frankfurt was cancelled after we had been sitting patiently in our seats for an hour and a half ready for take-off. Little H was just starting one of her tantrums, so it was not entirely bad having to evacuate back into the departure lounge before her show started. The pilot appologised saying that one of the doors in the plane was jammed and continued-  “to be honest, this is not fixed in an hour…" in a rather dishearthened voice. Poor Mister Pilot, it seemed that his morning was worse than ours. 


We ended up going via Copenhagen and then Frankfurt before reaching the airport in Bilbao late afternoon. Sadly our luggage did not arrive on the same plane. We did not get the bags untill very late the following evening. Luckily Little H had a supply of diapers and other necessities at her grandparents, and a few new cute outfits in her drawer (thank you Amama Socco). As for us, we did a couple of emergency purchases, but we're in general very well stocked in Elorrio. I even have my own drawer in Pappa Kas' old room. 
It is always exciting to see what I have left there from our last visit. This time I found a black t-shirt, black cardigan, some socks, pants and running clothes in addition to some toiletries - in other words- a survival kit. Sweet. At the bottom of the drawer I found "the Trial" by Kafka, a rather pessimistic holiday read. I wonder how many years ago I left that there. Cannot say that I have missed it in my bookshelves back home.


On the flight from Copenhagen we sat next to what seemed to me a friendly, elderly  gentleman, but must have appeared as a scary gremlin to Little H, as every time he said hello/tried to smile at us/look in our direction or talk to the airhostess, she got frightened, pulled one of her faces and started howling. Poor man.

Sophie the life saver

Overall Little H behaved pretty well despite a long and tedious day. We just kept feeding her and letting her squeeze and chew her favourite toy- Sophie as much as she wanted, to everyone’s annoyance.


Well, we are now safe and sound having a lovely time despite wet and sad weather. We do not see much of Little H these days as she is whisked off to the streets of Elorrio as soon as her breakfast porridge has been consumed. Always dressed to impress as Amama Socco is already trying to marry her off to a young eledgible Basque boy of a good family so that she can see her granddaughter more often in the future. 


Me? I'm painting my nails, going for runs, shopping and drinking wine with every meal, while Pappa Kas has the remote glued to his hand and his bum firmly placed in his favourite spot on the sofa. 
Ahhh, famliy bliss.

No time for contemplation

2010 has ended and the blog has been silent for a while, not on purpose, but life got in the way.

There are so many small happenings and itsy bitsy things I could write about:
I could write about how we spent Christmas Eve at Granny B and Grandad G's flat, where Little H sat in her own chair by the dinner table, and how she later ate wrapping paper before falling asleep in the guest bed her grandparents had gotten her (one of many generous gifts).
I could tell about how little H ate her Christmas dinner wearing a plastic cloak, but still managed to get stains on her pretty purple and white princess dress, and how the Velcro on her tiny shoes destroyed every pair of tights they came in contact with: her own, her auntie's, mine....
I could tell about the freezing cold outside in the days before Christmas and us running out of firewood, with none to buy anywhere. How can a country made of (and by) pine, run out of logs for the fire?
Other to small to mention bits are how the flight(s) to Bilbao increased from two till four and how our luggage arrived two days late. Luckily the frozen Pizza Grandiosa for Tia Eli and Tio Ini was intact and had not left too much of a cheesy smell on Little H’s holiday wardrobe.


What I choose to write about is this:
Christmas time always makes me reflect on how lucky I am, and this one has been no different. It does not matter that the Christmas Day dinner was too salty, that I did not get a single book as a present, that little H had either drool or snots on every photo taken and that Pappa Kas worked so long hours before the holidays that we barely saw him.
What matters is that I am so fortunate to have a wonderful family and great friends around.
Foul smelling spit-up from Little H at any time, her outbreaks in public, the car breaking down (repeatedly), my jelly belly not shifting and me failing to update my blog three times a week does not really matter as I am truly blessed and I know it. I just have to adjust my expectations and appreciate the great life I am living- perhaps that should be my new year resolution ?

Thank you for contributing to a wonderful 2010 and I am looking forward to the adventures of 2011.

Little H is under the weather

The time before Christmas is a time for the common cold, a flu or swine flu if you’re really unlucky. The Castro- Nyhus family is in overall good health, but we cannot totally escape all bugs and viruses. It started with me getting the sniffles and Little H soon followed, Pappa Kas has so far been spared, despite snot and coughs all around.
The timing of Little H getting a cold could have been worse. It coincided with a very decent drop in temperature, taking us down to below 15 Celsius. Such low temperatures are unusual for us in the south-east this early in the winter, so even for us hard-core Norwegians it has been freezing.

It is recommended not to take babies outside when it is colder than minus ten Celcius, so we have more or less been forced to live in exile, not only due to our colds but also due to the “extreme” temperatures (as the tabloids describes it ) outside.

Good for Lady B and Little H you might think. I was thinking the same. Now I would get the chance to make home-made labels for the Christmas presents, polish cutlery, sew pillow cases, make Christmas cookies and most importantly - update the blog every day. Of course this has not happened, but I am proud to say that I am on top of the ironing and have swapped the white candles we have in the living room for red ones. Christmas can come!

I am happy to write that Little H is much better than at the beginning of the week. She no longer wakes up by her own chesty cough. She no longer starts crying in panic when she can’t breathe due to stuffed nose and throat. Her eyes are not running and she is more or less back to her happy self. While she was under the weather Little H only wanted to be close to me or Pappa Kas whether she was asleep or awake, being carried around while sung for, being cradles in our and…- you get it. So I have had no chance to sneak away and polish that cutlery. There’s always an excuse.



Nissejente



It’s that time of (the) year again…

We’re speeding into the run-up to Christmas and as usual I am behind plan. It is needless to say that home-made presents, seven types of traditional Norwegian Christmas cookies, Little H’s home-made Christmas outfits, yes outfits: Santa, reindeer, gingerbread cookie and so on, are still on the drawing board when we have three weeks left to go. It’s never gonna happen.
BUT I have not given up; I’ve just come to my senses and am going low-key this year.
It is time to put my feet up, make some mulled wine, spiked with vodka of course, and snap the heads of some gingermen cookies, while looking into the fire and listening to Bing's "White Christmas". This time of year is all about being cheezy and I cannot help it, but I want "Last Christmas" with WHAM as ringtone on my phone. That way I can fine-tune the moves in time for this years Christmas Night out at Picasso's.



Little H is too small to get involved in the festive fuzz so I am in the clear for all the work which comes with having kids in schools and nurseries - for now. I am thinking cake sales, making costumes for the nativity play and so on. I cannot wait…
Don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas, the shopping, the decorations, the eating and drinking which comes with all the get-togethers with friends and family. I am longing for to the smell of pine, oranges cloves and cinnamon. But I feel that I am already running late, which takes away some of the pleasure of it all.
The new plan could be to start preparing next year’s Christmas in March, because then I might be able to make half of the things I would want to by December 2011, but then again I will probably be sick of all things remotely Christmassy by mid-summer. It's not ideal.
So what’s the plan for the weekend? Making Christmas decorations, knitting on little H’s Santa Hat, have Christmas porridge for dinner when Pappa Kas is on his Christmas Night out with work, attending a pre-Christmas get together dinner, going to turkey tasting at Granny B and Grandad G’s and sort the boxes of decorations that have been taken down from the attic and hopefully buy some presents.

Who said low-key?!?

Soon six months after Little H’s arrival, I am starting to get into a proper routine, but there’s always the occasional surprise to throw us off schedule. The margins are small from
us leaving the house stress free strolling down to meet the other mummies with no spit-up anywhere and our winter hats the right way round, to wearing my sweater inside-out and Little H covered in a facial cream of milk, porridge and snot (It’s her own recipe and I bet it is good against the winterly temperatures we're currently having).

If you know us, you have probably heard the story about Pappa Kas forgetting the wedding bands he (he would say we) had been entrusted to bring safely to church for Tio Ini’s wedding…. - and other amusing stories of how forgetful we are. Another classic is how we went to spend the first night in our new house, having traveled by bus and train, and then walked 3 kilometers uphill with two 80 liters backpacks full of essentials in minus 5 degrees and snow, only to discover that the house keys were back in Oslo.

I will therefore proudly retell this 100% true story.

We were recently in Ikea to buy a carefully selected chest of drawers - obviously out-of-stock... Well, no excursion to Ikea is a waste of time, there’s always candles, napkins, meatballs and other must-haves to stock up on. While standing in the queue at the tills, we had a crisis situation. Little H, who has yet to understand the appeal of the Swedish furniture-and-stuff-everyone-can-afford heaven, was at the end of her tether, and did not politely want to wait in line so that her parents could pay for their essential must haves (candles and napkins).

Pappa Kas took Little H up from the pram and held her in his arms. It did not help; he was just showing the other customers that we had a screaming toddler. Pappa Kas then firmly planted the dummy in Little H’s mouth to stop the racket, only for Little H to spit it three meters away in distaste. Then, as the super mummy I am striving to be, I opened the side pocket of our baby-all-essentials-bag, took out a small Tupperware box, opened it and found a clean dummy within seconds. It went so quickly that the young couple standing behind us, who had cast annoying glances at our singing angel only seconds before, dropped their jaws in amazement before the girl said: “wow! Look at those organized parents!”

I have never been so proud.

Happy Hanna in her new potty-like chair.
Thank you Ashley, Audrey and Adriana!