The Language Barrier

Pappa Kas and I normally manage pretty well language-wise with each other’s parents, but today was a day where it all got mixed up.

I speak terrible Spanish. Aitxite Sebas once said that I speak like Tarzan. I actually took that as a compliment; I thought he would say that I spoke like a monkey. Despite attending a couple of different courses my progress is slow. It comes down to mainly one thing- I do not practice enough. At home we have fallen into the trap of mainly speaking English between each other. It has always been that way. However we’re trying to raising Little H as bi-lingual, Pappa Kas speaking Spanish and me Norwegian with her. Of course that makes us pick up a word here and there but the vocabulary is somewhat limited and not very usable when not talking to someone older than two (or another monkey).

Today we had a hitch.
cc

Grumpf and Gran

 It was a lovely day and I had taken some time off to spend quality time with the little “Lady” (she’s very stroppy these days, and I think that Lady is a suitable nickname for someone as fuzzy and determined as her).



Grandma B was suffering from Little H withdrawal syndrome, not having seen her “Little Princess” for about a week. We agreed to meet in the city centre of our lovely town -Drammen, for a stroll and a picnic by the beach (- yes, we have a beach in the city centre, and it is rather nice for the little ones. I would not be seen dead sunbathing there, but for the young, fit and hip ones it is a place to show off, and good for the kiddies when they get tired of shopping with their parents).

Before leaving the house I had spoken with Amama and aitxite about the possibility of meeting up in the town centre around 4 pm. What I thought I said was that I would call Pappa Kas (at work) and ask him to call his mum IF we were going to meet to avoid misunderstandings due to the language barrier… Apparently, what I said was something like: if I do not call, we will meet on the square around 4 pm.

So when me and her Royal (pain) Highness returned home and disturbed Aitxite in the middle of “the Tour” he got confused. After stuttering, pointing and playing pantomime (you should have seen it) I understood that Amama had gone to the square to meet Little Lady Stroppy and myself. Crap! When these things happen I go completely off my hinges, I called Pappa Kas and demanded that he sorted the situation, as if it was his fault... Then I got really really sorry and wanted to go and fetch Amama with the car, as she must be getting tired of staring at the pigeons and the pensioners on the square.


Amama and Little Lady H



But Little Miss Totally-Unreasonable was overdue her snack and would rather be placed in her bed (as if) than back in the car seat. There was no way I could take the car to go and get Amama. After calling Pappa Kas a hundred times whereby he called Amama for then to speak with Aitxite (standing next to me, but we were unable to go into details of what to do due to my Tarzan-Spanish and his limited Spanglish).



After countless telephone calls while trying to feed Little Miss Grumpf, we all agreed (I think) that Aitxite and Little (now) Miss Sunshine (funny how the mood changes as soon as she sees her grandparents) would walk to meet Amama. So now they’ve hopefully met somewhere, and what am I doing? In true Lady B style I am baking Amama’s favorite chocolate cake and practicing my Spanish verbs as to try to make up for all the trouble caused and to avoid similar misunderstandings in the future. ..

Grandparents and Little Miss Stroppy

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!

The working week is coming to an end and it’s time for a re-cap of a rather eventful week.

I do not know whether it was all the positive energy I was channeling by wearing all my favorite items this week (not all at once, I would have looked like a mix of a Christmas tree, a school teacher and a bag lady). But a drip here and there.

On Tuesday, while using my favorite black leather fits-absolutely-everything bag I became an Auntie. Auntie T, it has a certain ring to it hasn’t it? Little Laia was born, perfect, small, dark and healthy at a hospital in Northern Spain. Congratulations to Tia Eli and Tio Inigo, the proud parents.
Little H is now a big cousin and I am sure that she's proud. She looks and points at the baby photos on our phones and says (in true H style) - det det det det (“it” in Norwegian) which is how she express her likings of people, food, tractors and pigeons a. o. So she is definitely pleased with another family member on her own age.

Little Laia

My initial thought when I heard the news was: Hurraaaa! My second was: Oh Crap! My babysitters, Amama Socco and Aixixte Sebas might want to go back to Spain to spend time with their newborn granddaughter as soon as possible.
We knew that this could happen, but had our fingers crossed and hoped Laia would come on the calculated day of arrival . The Castro’s had had a family meeting before this summer was planned, and fully flexible tickets were bought and all eventualities were discussed.

Little H hard at work

I started toying with the idea of bringing Little H to work and lock her in one of the glass cubicles next to my desk or have her rumble around in the open landscape while singing and dancing (screaming and babbling at the top of her lungs while swaying back and forward and/or wiggling her bum). Pappa Kas would have to endure the same for a day or two. We share the responsibilities 50/50, in bad times and in good ones. Next week looked like a challenging one for us and especially for our colleagues.







I am sure that there was a Castro emergency conference call where an agreement was reached. The conditions were tough: If Amama & Aixitxe could be in telephone contact at least twice a day with the new parents and getting photos of the little angel (she sleeps all the time), and as soon as they got out of the hospital be available on Skype 24/7 they would stay with Little H for another week.
It’s all fine by me :-)

Monday and mood-lifting jeans

Yesterday was Sunday, a rather bleak, rainy and boring Sunday. Dark clouds and blue skies were constantly fighting but the threatening clouds definitely had the upper hand.

There was nothing else to do than to make sweet buns, snuggle and play with Little H, watch “So you think you can dance” (I love it!) on TV and knit ferociously on a present for Little Cousin L due to arrive in a few weeks. As if I am going to complete my “knit-work” it in time. Poor time-management yet again.
Brought the knitting on the train this morning, and I’m sure the ladies around were scrutinizing every knot and thinking what an amateur, and the young trendies thinking what a sad almost-middle -aged housewife. Tomorrow it is back to reading books with impressive titles (important for the image amongst the fellow commuters).
Well, this week I am going to wear and write about some of my favorite items. Yesterday, as I did not leave the house and was constantly close to snot, spit, spaghetti and other stain-makers I lounged around in my comfy trousers, t-shirt and cardigan. Nothing worth mentioning here really.

So today it was back to business, but since my carefully beloved item of clothing required extensive ironing, it was never going to happen. I had to opt for a newly acquired favorite. My dark, even suitable for work jeans got worn patches on their knees after my maternity leave, where I spent a lot of time crawling around on the floor. Good fitting jeans are not easy to find, especially if you do not want / can afford to spend an arm and a leg on them.

THE jeans (on a model of course)

The jeans should not be too tight fitting,but have a little bit of stretch for comfort, not too low on the waist, not too tight around the tummy as not to leave too much flab “hanging over”. The fabric should be soft, but still firm. They should fit nicely, but again not too tight over the bum. The list of requirements are endless.

Well, I have found (until now), the most perfect jeans I have ever owned. They tick most of the boxes above and has cool pockets at the back too.

These jeans are another item I love and they certainly cheered me up on a grey Monday. I even got a compliment from one of my colleagues, so those jeans made my day!

Do you have an item of clothing that makes you happy?

These are a few of my favourite things...

For the next week I am going to use something I really love every day. Do we not all have favorite items of clothing, jewelry, shoes, bags – and other treasured belongings that we “save” in our wardrobe because we love them so much? What rubbish! I remember talking to a friend about this one time of how we women buy beautiful things but hide them so that they’re not to be worn out, broken, stained or marked in some way. Why? If you have beautiful things show them to the world and use them!

I got inspired by a blog I follow Girl about Oslo  and liked the idea so much that I decided to copy it and do the same.
My theory is that by my mood will lift, my heart will beat a bit faster and I will become more confident as I wear these things for the next week.

The most precious thing that I would really love to wear again is my wedding dress, but that will have to wait, but the shoes though? Hmmm, they might be used this week...

This is one of my most beloved items

I got the bracelet as an 18-th birthday present from my grandparents. I rarely wear it as I am scared or scratching it, breaking the lock or losing it. But whenever I wear it, I look at it and think that it is a lovely piece of jewelry and extra special to me as I got it from my grandfather, whom I hope is following my life from somewhere nice.

What are your favorite things?

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?

Little H the mermaid

Our little H is not only a cheeky monkey, a fruit monster, a ‘snuggle bum’, but now also a little mermaid.

On Sunday the sun was shining, the temperature above 20 Celcius and we had the whole day ahead of us for some family fun. We decided to go to a lake nearby to dip our toes in the, probably, freezing water. But first: Little H needed her nap, we needed our lunch, we had to make smoothies to bring, we needed to localize the sun cream and to pack a bag with all other necessities, change and dress Little H, apply this sun cream and get her highness into her seat in the car .


The list was almost endless of ‘to dos’ and ‘need to bring’ and when we finally sat in the car, it was not only us who were heading for the lake, but also some very dark, very big clouds, bursting with raindrops. Great.


Little H has had a rather ambivalent relationship with water. She loves being in her little blue bathtub. She used to hate the shower, these days she cannot get enough of running water and has a tantrum every morning if she is not allowed to join either me or Pappa Kas in the shower.


She liked her baby swimming classes. Sometimes so much that she squealed in delight and scared the other babies. Other times she got silent, clingy and very cold, looking at me with blue lips and sad eyes to tell me that this is neither fun nor comfortable ( I could not agree more).


So how would she react to the real thing?

We were optimistic. Swimming diapers were on, we had brought a bucket and a spade for playing in the sand, and only the rain could stop us from having a jolly good time.


I have to admit that I swim like an old lady (breast strokes, no water in my hair- thank you very much), and do not go swimming in lakes or in the sea unless it is +22 C and no other people around. Would Little H take after her mother, as she does with her appetite for strawberries, a belly a Buddha would be proud of, and blue-grey eyes? Or would she take after her father, and swim like a dolphin, fight the waves and not to care about her hair whether in salt water or water with chlorine.

Here I am glad that the Spanish genes came through. While I was sitting on our picnic blanket, sipping smoothie and supervising from a distance, the two Castro’s were jumping from small rocks and into the water, splashing around, walking out to water high enough to reach the belly (Little H ones that is), in water that to me “looked” like 12 degrees warm.


Oh, have I told you that the in-laws are here? Watch this space…

Happy Birthday to H, part 2 of 2

First of all: my apologies for not updating the blog for more than a week, ehrmmm close to two. I am ashamed and sad to have disappointed my fans ;-) and most of all you.

Not sure who's got most butterflies

Well here we go:

Little H’s birthday weekend disappeared in a flash. After Friday’s extravaganza we still had cupcakes left, but the marzipan cake was put in a tupperware and given it to my dad, the cake monster, the ice-cream monster, who can eat tons of desserts and chocolate in one go. The only person whom I know to be able to match his dessert stomach is Pappa Kas dad, Aitxitxe Sebas. And I am not far behind myself.

We made it!

On Monday we had invited the Skinheads, Sergio’s (Pappa Kas) Senoritas and other dear friends to come so that I could show off my baking skills and Little H her 7 teeth (some say it's only six, but the bitemarks on my arms says differently). Being a public holiday we were aiming for few guests (sorry), so that they day could pass in peace and quiet. Never happened, almost everyone came and the ones who did not, had all valid excuses.
The weather was fantastic and we had such a great time. Little H was on fire, but Pappa Kas had her all under control while I chatted with the mummies to get the latest updates. How many teeth’s does Julie have? Can Oscar say mamma yet? When will they start to eat peas? And other “must know” information.

For the big day, I had of course cheated a bit on the catering side. I did not want to make a lot of sugary cakes and snacks, but made buns with whole meal flour and blueberries inside, had lots of different fruit chopped up and had made cupcakes, both chocolate ones and pink ones (OMG! What kind of mummy -monster have I turned into? PINK cupcakes!


As you know I do love baking, but it can be a bit much sometimes so I cheated and bought cupcake mix, who Jespers mum, Marita, told me was just like the real thing. I made the pink cupcakes as it said on the pack, but improvised a bit with the frosting. Sadly no photos were taken, but they looked exactly like the ones from Magnolia bakery. That was to be my downfall…


When all the guests were gathered and inspecting the table of temptations, the very same mum who recommended the ready mix said out loud “Oh, I can see that you used the readymade cup cake mix, not to worry, they do taste really good”.


Thanks a lot…

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





An amateurs mistake

The sun has been shining over Lier the last couple of days, so we have removed Hannas wollen clothes from her drawer, bought a small inflatable pool and stocked the fridge with ice-cream. Of course it’s pouring down outside today. It seems like the summer is over.

Nevertheless this is a “sunshine story”:

After our holiday in Denmark, Little H has suffered from diarrhea from time to time (if this is too much information, don’t read the rest, it gets a lot worse…) the poor little thing. Luckily I have been to work when it’s been at its worst, so Pappa Kas has suffered the consequences of a little daughter with a lot of runny poo - the hard way. Well, that is what you get on paternity leave; it is not all fun and games.

Since the weather has been so nice and little H’s bum so sore, I decided to give her sore parts some “air”. After a change, where I put on a super cute pink and green cotton dress with girls and umbrellas on it (sadly it is in the washing machine, so no photo) but left out the rest of clothing - and the diaper. Big mistake.

We went out on the veranda to watch Pappa Kas cut the grass. He is the best gardener even when it brings out his allergy he cuts and fixes the garden relentlessly. He’s the best! To see over the veranda railing I held little H on my arm and while we were standing there waiving to the super gardener I felt something warm running down my arm, and heard a splat on the veranda floor. I bet you can guess the rest.

The tummy trouble had returned and while little H waved to Pappa Kas brown yellowish stuff was running down my arm onto my trouser and on the veranda. What could I do? It would be stupid to run into the house, down the stairs and to the bathroom and put her in the shower. The whole house would be full of shit (literary). So I stood there until her face turned from bright red back into her normal Spanish glowing complexion.

I then ran downstairs to the bathroom and into the shower with our clothes on. Both little H and I was crying. After two rounds in the shower, the second one without clothes, we were ready to face the world again (read- clean the veranda- ugh), this time Little H with a diaper.

Bums will not feel the summer breeze for the foreseeable future.