Lorena, Rob, Biggie Smalls and Ella

Half

2012-01-22T16:14:00.006-05:00

Ella is officially half.

Although this picture was taken when she was 4 months.

In general, she is just my happy little angel baby. I always say that I would like to order 5 more just like her. I would happily have Irish twins if I knew it would be another of her breed. (But I can't put in orders, so don't anyone get their hopes up.)

First taste of food, yummy Swedish corn porridge

Ella 6 months

Ella wakes up happy.
She goes to sleep happy.
When it is time for sleep, if she doesn't fall asleep nursing then I can just set her down in her crib, give her a kiss, and walk out of the room. She might happily chirp for a few minutes and then fall asleep.
Since she was 3 weeks old, she would usually only wake up to nurse once in the night (barring vacations, jetlag and colds).
When I get her in the morning she greets me with a big smile and raspberries.
Sometimes I catch her staring at me across the room and she gives me the biggest grin. She'll do that to pretty much everyone, smile hugely at them if they look her way.
She just started trying food this week and she is so happy about it that sometimes she actually giggles while I feed her.
She loves to blow raspberries. Michael is jealous of this skill and gets frustrated trying to copy her (although he was equally good at her age, so apparently it is a lost skill).
She just has the sweetest presence. Everyone loves her to pieces. She is turning into a mama's girl, and I often enjoy hogging her, so it is a pretty symbiotic relationship.
She seems really smart to me, although I have nothing to say for evidence.
She has beautiful bright blue eyes and she looks just like her pops.
She doesn't take a pacifier but sucks away happily at her first two fingers (funny, she mirrors the same ones Michael sucks).
One of the more difficult times I've had with her has been adjusting back to Sweden's time zone after spending two months in the States. That's NINE hours change from California. She didn't adjust very quickly (and I am terrible at adjustment) so I was as much a zombie as when she was a newborn...maybe more. So, the fun story from all this is that the second night we were home I accidentally BRUSHED MY TEETH WITH HER DIAPER RASH CREAM! It's as gross as it sounds. Turns out that a tube of Desitin and a tube of Sensodine look almost exactly the same, and should NOT be stored in the same bathroom drawer. At first when I tasted the grossness, I thought that the toothpaste had gone stale after all that time I was gone. I was pretty tired. Also, I was doing it in the dark. But then it was just too nasty and I checked out the tube and started some pretty intense spitting. The thing about diaper cream is that it has all this zinc oxide that is meant to stick and not come off. So I felt it in my mouth the next day or two. The silver lining is that my mouth is rash-free and I have a great idea for April Fools.

Six months has happened incredibly fast with Ella. I am trying to decide if it is because she is so easy going or if it is more that she is a second child. Who knows. One thing that is definitely a second child syndrome is that I don't think I have posted a single boring video of her, whereas I have like 50 boring videos of Michael. Well, we must change that. In commemoration of her turning half, here we go. (Although Michael still tries to steal the show.)

Happy New Year

2012-01-02T12:53:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year from the Candrians.
We are enjoying our time at the beach for another few days before we return to Sweden. I'm sure once we get back home we will actually have some blog posts documenting the Christmas and New Years festivities.

Year in video

2011-12-23T13:26:00.000-05:00

My sister Andrea made this year end video, showing what happened in Candrian-dom during 2011. Enjoy

Thanksgiving

2011-12-10T08:59:00.000-05:00

We went to Utah for Thanksgiving (via DC, where I had a work conference). Lorena and the kids stayed behind, while I came back to Stockholm - since I inexplicably couldn't get six weeks in a row of work off. I'll fly back out next week and we will celebrate Christmas and New Years in California. I know they have been having tons of fun with family and friends in Utah. In their absence, I was able to go surf last week in the Baltic Sea. Yes, it was cold. I was going to go again today, but I managed to sprain my knee playing hockey, which I guess is what happens when you don't really know how to skate. Anyway, here are some pictures. I'd post more, but we remembered to take the camera to Utah, but not the camera cord, which is here with me in Stockholm.

Michaels's bike

2011-11-05T07:06:00.002-04:00

Smalls is getting pretty quick on his bike. Just like his Mom.

Actually, they are probably the same speed, right now...

Halloween

2011-11-01T16:03:00.002-04:00

I gave myself full permission this year to just buy a costume for Smalls. But the cheapness in me still won out once again and I made it. Cheap and resourceful are my two favorite ingredients for halloween costumes, and I just can't get away from it no matter how far up I move in life.
Here he is as a spider.

It was pretty shoddy handiwork and the strings holding the spider legs to his arms broke within 3 minutes. Michael couldn't have cared less, so I'll continue having my fun as long as he is oblivious to how bad I am.

We went to the Halloween party at the embassy again, and they go pretty all out in decorating offices for trick-or-treaters. I was concerned that it might scare Smalls and give him nightmares, but I let him go through anyway. That night he woke up three times scared of spiders in his crib. So, was it worth the fun? Do most kids get nightmares from stuff like that?

I made Ella's flower costume with pink napkins safety-pinned onto a pink bonnet. I hated having it on her though, so she wore it all of like 10 minutes. I didn't care because it was cheap and easy.

We had one group of 6 kids come trick or treating to our house. Halloween is not a tradition in Sweden, but over the years they have started dipping their toes in to the fun of it. So the kids were totally stoked when they saw me come to the door with a big bag full of candy. Anyway, as I went to hand out candy to the individuals, I noticed that just one kid in the group was holding a big basket, and they informed me that I was just supposed to drop the candy for everyone into the one basket. It cracked me up because that is just so, so, SO incredibly Swedish. It was just such a nice, lovely, fair way to do it and I totally wanted to teach them how to do it right instead. Poor kids will never know the pleasure of coming home with a bag stuffed full of more candy than their little brother.

Lidingö

2011-10-23T10:39:00.001-04:00

I've been feeling a bit nostalgic lately about my life here in Sweden. Maybe it's the beautiful autumn, maybe it's knowing that it's my last autumn here. Anyway, I quite love where I live. So I grabbed my camera and took it with me on a bike ride so I can capture a bit of the place I love. I decided to limit it to just the island where we live, Lidingö. It's sort of U-shaped, and probably about 7 miles from end to end.
I know I need a tripod. Even though it is a pretty boring video and it's the only way I can try to capture this place. I often think of this line by Ralph Waldo Emerson:
"I take this evanescence and lubricity of all objects, which lets them slip through our fingers then when we clutch hardest, to be the most unhandsome part of our condition."

Oh, and the soundtrack is one of my favorite songs - Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

haircut

2011-10-15T12:45:00.000-04:00

Photo Album

2011-09-22T16:17:00.004-04:00

September 22, 2011

I can't make decisions, especially small ones. Like when your family visits and you end up with approximately 5,000,000 photos, how can you decide on 5 to share? So, I finally decided to just go with an album of pictures and, wha-la, I'm no longer incapacitated. Thanks Aunt Andrea, Grandma and Grandpa Candrian for the visit and the loads of great pictures! Just click on the picture to view the album.

Two Years

2011-09-14T10:27:00.001-04:00

Michael is officially two years old now. He is the most joyous little guy, always laughing and making others laugh. In honor of his birthday, I am splurging and posting three videos. (All thanks to his aunt Andrea!)

To explain the last one he wanted to watch Elmo without eating his food, and we told him no Elmo if he didn't eat first - so he's reviewing that.

Don't Lock Your Baby in The Car

2011-09-08T10:56:00.006-04:00

Now, if only I'd heard that advice before, maybe Ella's baby blessing would have gone more smoothly. The battery on my electronic key has been low for weeks. I ordered a new battery but of course when it came on Friday it was the wrong size. At which point I should have gone to the store and bought one, but ya know, I didn't. That was going to be on Monday. Why put off until tomorrow what I can do the day after tomorrow? I was getting along just fine and I figured I always had my valet key to fall back on, although I don't really know how it works. After this whole fiasco, I still don't know how it works (I can't find any key hole). I always figured there was a non-electronic way to enter my car and turn it on, and always figured that if I didn't know that Rob knows everything and would know. Turns out he does not know everything. So clearly this was his fault.

So, we got to church and I parked and I'm gathering my things, and I decide to leave my small purse in the car and only take in my big church purse. I am a full-on mom now and need a special big mom purse for church. So I locked the car - something I haven't been doing lately because I've been afraid it might not detect the key battery, but...the purse was there and my brain was not so I locked it.
From the inside.
Because I can't lock it from the outside.
Because the key battery is too low to lock it with the key.
A shining, sparkling, gold-star moment for my decision making processes.
In my defense (do I deserve one?) I thought that the side door was open and that Ella was being taken out of the car....but nope. It got opened, and then shut again, with her still in the car. And as soon as I came around and realized she was still in the car was the same moment I realized I locked the car and my battery was really really really low and Ella starts crying and OH. NO. I just know my key is not going to work - the disaster is too perfect. It does not work, no matter how much I tell it to. So stubborn. So, it had enough battery to start the car and get us to church, but not enough to unlock it. And of course, we can't find a hole for the valet key to open it manually.

This story is too long, so let's just say that after several ideas, including running frantically in to the chapel to borrow a key from a friend to try to switch batteries (different sizes, didn't work), we ended up with a small crowd outside our car. Including the bishop. We had way missed the blessing but, hey, the party at the car was a pretty happening place.

Ella is right inside that car window crying and I am right outside the window crying.

Rob found a valet key hole to open the trunk and was making a pretty pathetic attempt to reach his hand through to unlock the door through the tiny shoebox size hole that goes in to the cab. Not even close. But then some friends offered up their 3 year old daughter to squeeze through. I thought not a chance. No WAY would she fit through. But while I was busy mugging some other poor fool for their key fob battery, the girl got in.

Then it was really fun while everyone yelled directives trying to get a little toddler - one small enough to fit through a hole a cat could barely get through - to unlock the door. After she stopped to play with some toys, read a book, and send a few text messages, she managed to unlock the door and the crowd went wild.

Ella was so sweet and stopped crying the minute I picked her up. I figured we'd already missed the time for her blessing by a long shot so I took her aside to nurse. She was like a peaceful little angel while I was still racked with stress. She totally soothes my soul. (If we were hippies, her name would have been Peacelove. We threw it around when we were having fun with names.) I hope we don't end up with one of those reverse relationships where the daughter is always comforting and advising the mother.

Oh, they let Rob bless her later in the meeting than usual, and it was beautiful. She was alert and peaceful for the whole blessing, and then just sat contentedly in Rob's arms the rest of the meeting.

And for a final note, you would not believe the number of people who told me that they had locked their kid inside the car also. Like, pretty much everyone and you are not cool if you haven't tried it yet.

Here she is in her blessing dress, hand sewn by her Grandma Candrian.

Life Right Now

2011-08-28T15:46:00.004-04:00

Cheering at Rob's soccer game.

I've been totally pampered after giving birth to Ella; between Rob's time off from work and visits from my mom, Rob's sister Andrea, and Rob's parents, it won't be until 8 weeks after her birth that I will finally have to cope with caring for a newborn and toddler on my own. I have to say that as a fair preface to now saying that I LOVE my life right now and I can't believe how manageable it has been to have a second baby.

Total fascade, I know. But I'll live in this little dreamland while it lasts. What every mother needs is a mother for herself. I was so so sad to say goodbye to mine yesterday after three weeks of being pampered. What should have been a totally hectic period of my life was instead a time that I was able to just enjoy my new life. It's a feeling of "my cup runneth over" instead of "bursting at the seams".

Rob's soccer game

Michael found the two cutest babes at the park and thought it looked like fun to hitch a ride. So he just hopped on. They looked at each other like "huh?" but then happily drove him around for like 15 minutes.

Playing at the beach with Grandma Davis.

Grandma Davis and miss Ella Mays


Michael likes to do what Ella does. She had tummy time so he copied her, complete with a pretty fierce impersonation of her moving her head about all wiggly and jerky and unstable-like. One of the best things ever that has come as a result of his copy-cat behavior is that he will FINALLY lay down for diaper changes. Thank you miss Ella for providing the good example.

Michael woke up last weekend and told Rob that he wanted to wash the windows. I now know how to get Rob to do chores.

He had no idea of this when he stuck his head through that hole. Haha, sucka.

Looking out off the balcony, one of our favorite activities.

Squishy Face

2011-08-13T15:42:00.000-04:00


Ella's squishy face. I like the black and white effect because A. It looks good. B. It hides an unfortunate amount of baby acne and dandruff.

Showing off her manicure. And her long fingers.

Mostly these two just coexist. He gives her a kiss every now and then each day and that is sweet. But he wasn't too in to holding her for a picture. The first few did not turn out too well, so we put away the camera. But then he realized that holding Ella was the key to getting his picture taken, and then he was begging to hold her again.

Is this not the coolest contraption of a stroller? Smalls is riding on a skateboard attachment and loves it. Yeah, he's pretty hip.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

2011-08-08T16:33:00.003-04:00

Another Michael video. He is still getting plenty of attention even with the arrival of Ella.
He is way into songs these days - here he is singing Take Me Out the Ball Game like a broken record until I help him remember there are other lines to the song.
Also, I love this video because it captures the way he sounds like Daffy Duck when he pronounces certain words (here: Giants and shame).

Ella's Birth Story

2011-08-02T16:04:00.003-04:00

For those like me who love to read birth stories...here you go. In a totally uncreative, time-line format. And completely unabridged.

the week before birth: many contractions each day, "false labor" for a couple hours on like 3 different days. So that by the time I am actually at my due date, I'm already feeling pathetic as if I am already a week overdue.

In my sleep Saturday night (1:00 or 2:00 am Sunday): water breaks...just a trickle so I wasn't 100% sure and just went back to sleep. I'd spent the entire previous week getting worked up over false labor, so I went overboard with non-chalance at this point.

Sunday morning: I can feel a hormonal shift in my body that makes me feel a little more certain of the ruptured membranes. But no contractions. Call the hospital. The nurse wants me to be more certain that my water broke, totally thinks I am just over eager or something. She tells me to get out and move around, go for a walk, laugh, etc - to see if it would make more water come.

Sunday midday: Having some contractions now, especially on the drive over to church - every acceleration and bump. And every time Rob makes me laugh.

At church: try to forget about it. Ha! Cry through a talk. Try to avoid talking to people, but that is impossible. A friend who is a midwife and I especially didn't want to talk to because I was sure I would burst into tears, actually succeeds in making me feel better. But, oh, all the people who say "I didn't expect to see you here today!", or ask "so when are you due?" (yesterday, thanks for the reminder). It just feels totally wrong to be at church like any other day, even filling in as nursery leader because no one is there, when you know you should be at the hospital having a baby.

After church: Go on a walk with Sir Smalls. His nose leads us down the street to the neighborhood trampoline. I was secretly hoping for that. Good kid. After a few mild bounces, I sat down and thought I sat in a puddle. No puddle there. Just my amniotic fluid, sorry neighborhood kids who use that trampoline. So there is my solid evidence of water breaking for that lame nurse. Wahoo! I was so happy with the event that I happily walked back home with sir Smalls without even a trace of shame that I looked like I just peed my pants. I was ready to happily explain to every neighbor what it was and that I was about to have my baby.

Early evening: Contractions every 5 to 15 minutes now. Go to the hospital, they confirm ruptured membranes and say I will be induced the next day. Luckily, Sweden has changed it's policy regarding inducing labor for women with ruptured membranes. When this happened with Michael they waited 3 days, but now they want to do it within 2 days, thank goodness. (In the U.S., policy is to do it within 24 hrs to avoid infection, which is why I felt the nurse who sort of snuffed my call was especially lame.) I feel disappointed that my body is not going into full-on labor on it's own and I will have to be induced - the same exact scenario for the second time in a row - but I am at least calm about it this time and feel relief to know that I will have my baby the next day. It feels good to know it will happen one way or another. As opposed to Michael's birth, this time I just try to relax as much as possible - not frantically trying every home method to get labor going. I know I will need my energy and peace!

Throughout Sunday night/monday morning: Contractions still irregular - 5 to 15 minutes apart. But getting stronger. I catch a few zzz's in between contractions, but that is a pretty messed up night of sleep! I break out my TENS unit (I loved it so much with my previous birth that I went out and bought my own this time) in the middle of the night to help me cope with the pain and it worked wonders for me! Love love love to the TENS.

Monday morning: Rob tells me what a bad night of sleep he had, "thanks to a certain someone who shall remain nameless". HA! I shed a few tears on his behalf and apologize profusely.

Monday lunchtime: I pick up the baby sitter. Rob and I head to the hospital. Rob has fun pretending it is an emergency and drives too fast. I feel like a lamb going to the slaughter. I feel less convicted about natural childbirth this time than I did with Michael - I've hardly thought about it this time around and just know I'm going to do it like I did last time. I remember the torture a little louder than I remember my convictions for taking it raw. But I don't want to think it through again, I just want to do it the way I know how. I trust that I had the right reasons with my first birth, although I forget what they were as I deal with the pain.

Noon: arrive at hospital. Wait around foooooorever till a midwife comes to check me. Around 2:00 I find out that I am actually dilated to 5 or 6 cm!!! Contractions still irregular - 5 to 10 minutes apart - but the midwife says I won't need pitocin. WAHOO! She decides to give my membranes a bigger rupture to help move things along (although for some reason they don't get around to that until about 4:00.)

Afternoon: A midwife walks in as Rob is giving me a demonstration on birthing positions and the faces to make to help with giving birth. My laughter may have induced labor as much as the midwife puncturing the membranes.

Late afternoon/early evening: Rob tries to make a joke, and I inform him that NOTHING is funny anymore. I am in the SERIOUS throws of labor now and must be in my zone even between contractions because I have such intense back pain. It feels like my lower backbone is breaking. The back pain is so intense that I don't even feel the contractions in the front at all. In fact, I don't even feel my uterus contracting - I just know a contraction is coming because it feels like my back is breaking even more. The pain stays even once the contraction is over, it is just a little less intense. Still loving my TENS although it isn't as helpful now. Loving the music mix I made for labor.

The midwife's helper, like the student aide or whatever - is totally nice and trying to help but driving me batty. She keeps asking the same questions that HELLO, I ALREADY ANSWERED and suddenly I totally understand the Toby character on The Office. She is my Toby. My disdain is totally unfounded but real. Why should it bother me to have someone ask me if there is anything she can get me and bring me sandwiches and drinks and hot packs? She was totally nice and yet I wanted her to get lost. I warmed up to her once the birth was over and we had some good conversations and I mentally apologized.

Around 6:00, maybe?: At one point, I feel a hormone shift and start trembling. I give the TENS unit the boot - it can't even put a dent in dealing with the pain now. Before labor, when I tested it, an intensity of 20 was the most I could take. I had it cranked up to 37. At that point, it was sending my back into an arch and still not helping me deal with the pain so it became a little counter-productive.

I feel like I will puke, but I don't. I know I am in the transition phase - the most awful, difficult to deal with part of labor. Perhaps pushing and delivery is more actual pain, but you don't have to sit there and try to relax through it. My whole body keeps getting the shakes. I start feeling the urge to push. The midwife says I still have a little to dilate still before I ought to push, so I try to relax through the contractions. But finally, I get this contraction that possesses my body like a demon. My whole body pushes and writhes and mocks me for telling it to relax. It was absolutely agonizing. In my mind, the scene was like something from a horror movie, but Rob says he couldn't tell anything like that was going on. Luckily, the midwife checked me immediately after and said I was totally dilated then. She said to just listen to my body from then on - push if I had to, but relax if I could. Amazingly, the next several contractions let up on me a bit and I was able to not push. This was good and I think allowed me to stretch more gradually so that I didn't tear too much. Finally, my body became possessed again by the pushing demons, and it only took a few contractions - good looong contractions with multiple pushes - until I felt the "ring of fire" that made me want to rip my own head off. In heavy breaths I asked WHAT! IS! THAT!? and the reply was "the head!" and I was like, Okay, then I can end this. Pushed with every fiber of my body. Gave one unintentional scream - the moment that is truly unbearable to continue and makes me scream is the moment the baby is born.

7:08 pm: Out she came. I could not believe it was over just like that. There she was. It is so unbelievable. I exclaimed over and over "my baby, my baby, my baby..." There she was beneath me. She cried the second she was out. I was on my knees for birth, and this time the nurses thought to bring her toward me instead of out toward them - so I actually got to see her with the cord still there. I was a lot more with it this time than I was with Michael and although I was shaking, it was manageable enough this time that I could hold her right away. Rob cut the cord. It helped that I could focus on her as I had to deliver the placenta and get stitched up (only one stitch this time, yay!) - a good distraction from even more pain. She was a model nurser from the very first latch. I had plenty of time to just stare at her every feature while she nursed and run through a gamut of emotions. Childbirth is truly the most amazing, profound experience...anything short of that would not be fair, considering it is also the most excruciatingly painful. I suppose I could make a nice analogy of it to parenthood in general - sacrifices and trouble that only the pure joy and love of a child could outweigh. I'm so in love with my little Ella girl!

Blue Eyes

2011-07-27T16:35:00.000-04:00

She is so, so, so lovely in every way. I can't get enough.

More Ella pictures (and one of Smalls)

2011-07-22T03:49:00.000-04:00

Because that is what the people have demanded!

Sleeping

Sleeping some more

Hi Ella.

Michael, taking a walk down memory lane...

Ella: World; World: Ella

2011-07-19T15:09:00.000-04:00

Here she is...

Yeah, she kinda looks like an alien. But a cute little alien. (fyi I think that most babies look creepy, please don't kill me for saying so).

Funny story for all of the grandparents, relatives, and those with kids already (if you don't have kids and aren't related to us, you will think this is just another one of "those" stories that people with kids tell. I remember, before having kids, hating blogs where all people did was talk about their kids. Now look at me.): When I brought Michael to the hospital this morning to meet Ella, he was really excited because he got to ride an elevator up to Lorena's floor. Smalls loves elevators and escalators. He could ride them all day. Over and over and over and over...Anyway, walking down the hall to the room, I was trying to tell him about how he was going to meet his sister, and all he could think about was riding the elevator again. He kept saying "elevator, elevator." When we brought him into the room, we took him over to look at Ella and I told him to say "hi" to his sister. And Michael, in a really sweet voice, walked over to Ella and said "Hi. Hi baby Ella." And then the moment ended, and he reverted to form and said "Elevator?" and wanted me to take him back to the elevators.

Hello Ella

2011-07-18T16:55:00.003-04:00

Ella arrived at 7:05pm on 18 July 2011. Both the beautiful little girl and her beautiful mother are doing fine. Pictures and stats tomorrow.

ABC 123

2011-07-16T10:20:00.002-04:00

Michael is a hoot at this age. I am finding it especially funny when he says things to me that I have not taught him. For example:
"Daddy hates Teletubbies."
Then a couple days later he tells me "Michael hates bunnies."
Yesterday it was "raisins gross!", as he was happily devouring them. I still have no idea who the source is on that one. Rob and his Boo-pa both deny it but I smell fish.
Another funny thing I hear way to often for my liking: "nervous" or "mommy nervous". I know to rush over as soon as I hear it because it always means he is doing something a little dangerous.
If he finds something interesting, he shows it with a deep, throaty "Whoa! Whooooooooooooaaa! Whoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaa!" He went on like that for an entire bus ride once, to the amusement of plenty of passengers.
His affirmatives can be pretty hilarious too - he is always sooo eager to do things. For example, asking if he wants to go on the swing can be met with a long, enthusiastic reply of "Kay. Okay. Yeah. Alright. Do it. Try it. Kay. Alright. Do it."

This is certainly a time when I wish I could capture a hundred different cute things he does on video, but I'll consider myself lucky to have caught these couple tricks. He is even more obsessed with letters and numbers now that he has seen himself saying them on video. Now he usually skips straight to 18 19 20, or WXYZ because he's learned that is where the wild applause comes in.

Fun with Boo-Pa

2011-07-04T09:16:00.001-04:00

Big Michael came to visit little Michael for the week. Both Michaels where in heaven. Smalls doesn't even know what to do, now that his "Boo-pa" (Michael's name for his Grandpa) has left and gone back to his house. He is confused because Lorena and I won't do everything he tells us to. Boo-pa would, so why won't we? Boo-pa brought him some cool gifts (not pictured: licorice and potato chips) like a Giants had and some sunglasses. He also took him on walks, took him to the beach, went on a boat ride, and generally did whatever Smalls wanted to do. Smalls was pretty sad when he woke up from his nap on Saturday and realized that Boo-pa wasn't there to be his buddy. It was even sad for us (not just because we had a free babysitter for a week, but it was sweet to see how much Michael loves his grandpa and vice versa.) It was a lot of fun having him here, and we can't wait until he comes back out with Grandma in two months to meet Ella.

Midsummer

2011-06-26T09:38:00.002-04:00

This video below is really not that great except for the sake of seeing Michael. I guess that's probably true of this blog in general, so I don't know why I feel the need for the disclaimer.
The first part is Midsommarsafton, or midsummer's eve. It seems like one of the most celebrated holidays in Sweden. There are lots of big gatherings where the tradition is to pick wild flowers and greenery to decorate a huge maypole, raise it up, then sing and dance around it. And decorate flower wreaths to wear around the head. And eat disgusting things like pickled herring with mustard. Most include lots of beer, but since our party was mostly mormons, that part was left out. For many Swedes it marks the beginning of their looong summer vacation to their summer cabins - often 4 to 6 weeks - and the city really empties out.

The second part of the video is later the same day, and just shows Michael doing his favorite activity - pushing his stroller. He begs all day every day to go for a ¨little walk¨, which is basically 30 - 60 minutes of him pushing the stroller around where ever his nose leads him, until I've had enough and put him into the stroller (screaming, of course) and push him back home.

Gröna Lund

2011-06-18T06:21:00.002-04:00

We took Smalls to the local theme park - Gröna Lund. He really really really liked the train. I think we rode it 10 times. The conductor would blow a horn before each ride, and Smalls would say "Choo Choo." Besides the train, there was a blatant "Dumbo" ride rip-off, which he liked. Even though those were his favorites, when we would ask him which rides he wanted to go on, he would point to all the big roller coasters, that spin and go upside down, etc., and say "that one!". Occasionally, he would even take off running towards them. But his plans were always foiled by the blasted height restrictions. Sorry, buddy. You are too small. We bought a season pass for one adult (since Michael gets in for free) so that all the people who come visit this summer can take him on the rides.

For real?

2011-06-10T15:47:00.001-04:00

Thanks for sending me this link, Anna. Although I can't believe that so many of my current adult friends think of me when they see something like this. You go to ONE little cat convention when you are like 8 years old, and man, that sort of thing follows you around for decades.

Tallin

2011-05-27T16:48:00.003-04:00

This week we decided to take a random trip to Tallin, Estonia. One of the things I should have mentioned in my previous list of things I dig about Sweden is the cheap cruises we've been able to take. For a grand total of something like 80 bucks, Rob, Smalls and I got a cabin on a round trip cruise to check out the city for a day. I really love short trips like that, and I really really love great deals like that. And I quite like doing the cruises every now and then. It feels like camping to me, in a totally non-camping sort of way. (In my mind that statement makes perfect sense.) And then when you wake up you are somewhere new. Love that.

The city was pretty cool. Supposedly it has one of the best preserved old towns in the world. Buildings still in use from the 1300's. I didn't know much about it's history except that it used to be part of the USSR until 1991. I learned that it has been occupied on and off by Russia and Germany for a good deal of it's recent history, and it was humbling to walk down the streets and realized how much the every day citizen has been through to finally have their recent independence. We went to the Museum of Occupations, where they had rather basic stuff on the main floor, and all the impressive huge statues of past oppressive leaders were sort of thrown into a darker basement with zero fanfare. Great statement.

While I'm at it I have to brag about the trip I took a couple months ago to Helsinki. The cruise ship gave some free tickets to the embassy, which combined with the free bus ride (anytime if you board pushing a stroller), got me and Smalls all the way from my living room to Helsinki and back without paying a penny for even so much as gas. Lovely. I hope all of my deal-loving and extreme-couponing family members are impressed.

Looking inside my finger

2011-05-20T04:50:00.002-04:00

I had my sixth surgery today (three on left knee, one on right knee, one on left achilles, and now my right pinky finger). This was the first one I was able to be awake for. It is a bit surreal looking inside your own hand. I was under local anesthetic for this one, as the surgeon needed me to be able to flex my hand to make sure that everything was attached with the right tension, so I would have the right range of motion. About halfway through, the doctor asked if I wanted to look in, and I couldn't say no - morbid curiosity got the best of me. It was really interesting seeing the bone, the ligaments, etc. It wasn't as freaky as I thought it would be, probably because there wasn't that much blood. It was also really weird having my hand be numb, but still feeling the pressure and pulling associated with re-attaching a tendon to my finger. It was a bit painful when they attached an anchor to the bone in my finger that would be used to re-attach the tendon. I guess they aren't really able to numb the bone.

For those that are wondering what I did to have surgery on my pinky (generally regarded as the wussiest of fingers..) It seems I tore a tendon off the bone playing hockey back in December. The finger slowly felt better over the past few months, which is why I didn't go to the doctor. Two weeks ago, while playing soccer, I re-injured it. When the doctor saw it on Wednesday, she said: "That is the most unstable finger I have ever seen, that someone can still move." I wanted to take a picture of the surgery, but I wasn't allowed to bring a camera in. Sorry.

What Smalls dragged in

2011-05-18T17:17:00.001-04:00

Look what sir Smalls dragged in. Especially appetizing considering I was cooking dinner. I hear him eagerly run in from the patio off the kitchen proclaiming "snail! snail!". He chased me around trying to give it to me. He was quite proud of it and really wanted me to have it. The garden variety snail is quite large here, much bigger than anything I ever encountered growing up in CA.
I have cleaned up all sorts of diapers and other nasty stuff since giving birth, but I must say that cleaning slimy snail scraps off his fingers and fingernails has been the most repulsive of all. Just fyi, snail gut scraps do not simply rinse off.
In addition, pregnancy and having a young child makes me disturbingly empathetic to all creatures, and I've thought way too much about the fate of that poor snail.

Bin Laden made me homesick

2011-05-03T14:16:00.001-04:00

I am a little surprised at how stoked I am that they got bin Laden. I didn't expect to be so hooked on the news and get goose bumps so many times. But it sort of makes me glad that I feel this way considering the fact that when a friend mentioned on Friday that she wanted to stay home to watch as much of the royal wedding as possible, I wasn't exactly sure what she was talking about. Me: Wedding = huh? Death = goosebumps. Interesting self-analysis.

My point in this is that I want to give some high fives and be part of the revelry at home that we got him. I was reading a Swedish newspaper today, where it is also headline news. However, I was a little let down that I couldn't find a single line of excitement that we took him out. I've read American headlines that proclaim "Rot In Hell", "We Got The Bastard", "Dead", etc. To contrast, the front page I saw here had a picture of bin Laden and stated something like "Swedish people after bin Laden's death - Half believe this will cause new terrorist attacks in Sweden". Other articles' headlines were "Terrorism not dead with Osama" and "There will be reprisals for Osamas death". Another article just outlined many of the other most-wanted terrorists still out there and talked about another leader who is about as powerful as bin Laden and still alive. True, true, true, and true. But a total buzz-kill. I'm not, and Americans are not (I don't think...) in denial about anything. But I didn't read a single positive note about the fact that at least this one awful, most-wanted-terrorist is gone for good. What the what?

I guess I kind of get it - he was not their monster. And there are other different-frame-of-mind factors that I am starting to understand better now as well. But still, I am homesick today. I want to revel in it with my country.

A list of random things I like in Sweden

2011-05-01T15:41:00.002-04:00

1. Good bike paths everywhere.
2. This bread called Guldkorn that is sold in a loaf with NO END PIECES and every slice is the same exact uniform size. I didn't know how much this mattered to me until I found this bread.
3. The traffic lights turn red and yellow at the same time before they turn green. I know driving is not supposed to be a race, but my analogy is that in the States driving is like being in a race where you line up and someone suddenly just says "go". Here, it's like "ready, set, go", and it really relaxes those type A people like Rob and I who would make an analogy of racing to driving.
4. Open preschool - a parent accompanies their kid to this, but it is free. It's mostly just babies/toddlers playing around, and then a music-time, but there are open preschools all over and, yeah, it's free.
5. Pappaledighet - the right that fathers have to get paid leave from their job to take care of their baby. I don't know the exact laws around this, but together the father and mother get a sum total of 1.5 years paid leave from work (I think...). The clincher is that if the father does not take some of that time (like 3 months or something) then it is simply lost so then they don't get the full year and a half or whatever it is. At the open preschools I have gone to, it is pretty common to see more fathers there with their kid than mothers, which I think is quite the novelty that I just can't get over. (This is because it is common for the father to take over baby-duty when the kid is a year old, which also coincides with when a lot of people start going to open preschool.) I mean, what full-time-mother hasn't fantasized once or twice about trading places with their husband for a couple months?
6. Loooooong vacations. Many people take like 6 weeks vacation in the summer and the whole city changes, like a college town. (I think everyone is legally entitled to something like 5 weeks of vacation.)
7. Free bus rides if you are pushing a stroller.
8. Cheap balls of fresh mozzarella.
9. No one honks in traffic. Actually, this is love/hate, because sometimes someone really needs to be honked at like 5 cars ahead of you and no one will get the job done. But when you compare the peacefulness of it to DC drivers (angry honking haters), it is definitely worth the trade-off.
10. Entire school classes will go out on bike rides together. I once saw a class of grade schoolers out for a ride with their teacher giving them instruction about cycling. And the bike lots are overflowing at the schools.
11. I was reading the Swedish Book of Mormon the other day where it has the same passage as the Bible that says "And whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council". I've never really known what that word "Raca" meant until now. The Swedish version essentially interprets it as "Dumbhead". So enlightening.
12. Brännboll - a nicer, friendlier version of baseball. There is no such thing as an out and even if you strike out you still get on base. Probably more like wiffleball than baseball, but nice for things like the family friendly picnic setting. I played this for the first time with my church youth group last week, and I didn't quite understand it yet, and they must've thought I was a little crazy the first couple of times I was yelling "OUT!!!" at people before I realized there is no such thing in this game.
13. Non-competitive attitudes here, in general. As witnessed in too many occasions to count (for example, #12) Another recent example I noticed was in the Easter tradition of the egg-hunt. Here each kid gets just one giant egg, and once they find it they are done. Okay, so I think it isn't quite as exciting, but no kids are left in tears because they found 2 eggs while someone else got 18 eggs plus 4 chocolate bunnies.
14. Everyone exercises and eats well and does stuff outdoors. Okay, not everyone, but it sure seems that way. It is rare to see anyone overweight here.
15. A friend was making an argument for living a healthy lifestyle the other day, and it seemed that the pull for it isn't so much centered on "healthy = good for you", but more like "healthy = good for society". It seems the stronger argument is that things that make you unhealthy make you a burden on the system and others, so don't be that person. I'm positive I am way over generalizing here, but perhaps a thread of truth to that mentality.
16. Dogs are soooooo loved.
17. Kids who ride the bus to school use the public bus system, not a school bus. And they use the public bus and metro for things like field trips too.
18. Valborgmässafton - a holiday that was celebrated last night. From what I gather, it is basically a pagan holiday celebrated with ginormous bonfires to ward off evil and burn away the dry and dead of winter. The fire I went to burned up a heap bigger than a garage and the flames reached higher than the trees. There were no ropes to hold people back for safety and no waiver forms to sign. Just a picnic like atmosphere with a good old fashioned "mind your own safety" before they set the biggest blaze I've ever seen.
19. The floor heater we discovered this winter for our bottom floor tiles. Mmmmmm, Toasty.
20. Saunas saunas saunas.
21. Lack of american modesty in dressing rooms. Nowadays when I use a locker room it is usually to go to the pool with Smalls, and that kid is crazy and likes to make me chase him around whenever possible. If we were anywhere but Europe, I would have had some really awkward moments in the locker room.
22. Swedish meatballs (I'm hooked) and Wallenburgers.

Things I wish would make their way to Sweden
I'll keep this brief because it's all nit-picky stuff that doesn't really matter in the scheme of living in a really great place that I love. Just random stuff I've missed here and there.
1. Disposals in kitchen sinks.
2. Juice sold as concentrate.
3. Screens for windows and screen doors. Actually, I saw a screen door for sale once in a magazine that was about the equivalent of Sky-Mall magazine. Hey guys, check out this crazy cool contraption!
4. High watt light bulbs. (Can't find anything above 60.)
5. Drive through fast food.
6. Fitted bed sheets.
7. Air conditioning.
8. American size cribs (teeny tiny ones here).
9. A Target store or something of the like.
10. Authentic Mexican food...who here wouldn't love a grubbin' Beto's burrito?
11. Pick up of recyclable trash. It's like mile round trip walk for me to go to the recycling bins and back, plus you sort it yourself, so it is definitely less convenient than I am used to. (Don't worry, I still do it.)
12. A massive aisle of the grocery store dedicated to hundreds of different delicious cereals. Wouldn't Swedes just love Cinnamon Toast Crunch? I think they would.

Actually, I think the above list is a testament to how awesome it is here, if that is all I can find to wish for.
I am sure there is tons more I will find myself wishing I had put on each of those lists, but I've gone on quite long as it is, haven't I?

This is my son...

2011-04-26T15:09:00.001-04:00

He put the ice cream bowl hat on his head on his own volition. He thought he was so funny. The Gorbachev thing he has going on... he fought the stairs and the stairs won...this round.

Say Cheese

2011-04-05T14:02:00.000-04:00

Lorena had to take a picture of Michael so that he can get his VISA and not be an illegal immigrant in Sweden. He wasn't enjoying it too much until she taught him to say "Cheese" and then he thought it was pretty funny.

Before "Cheese" (more like a mug-shot)

After "Cheese"

Portugal

2011-03-21T17:50:00.002-04:00

Rob made a comment today about how sad it is that Michael has traveled all over the world, but still has never been to California. Since I am pregnant, it almost made me cry. All this traveling and yet he's never been where I call home.

Anyway, our trip to Lagos, Portugal was heavenly. Rob's parents, sister Amy and her husband John met up with us there, so Smalls had all the attention a little attention-craving boy could ever dream of, and Rob and I had all the free time the parents-of-an-attention-craving-boy could ever dream of. It was a lot of fun to have a full house of good company on vacation. There were even some decent surf spots for Rob, so it was perfect!

Is there anything cuter than baby bum? He was so excited about the ocean that he escaped as I was trying to get on his swim trunks.

More baby bum. He's a bit on the skinny side and can't keep up his trunks. Half moon the whole time.

Michael and his grandpa, or as he calls him, his boo-pa. Every time Smalls woke up, he immediately exclaimed "Boo-pa!" and wanted to go on a hunt to find him....even if it was the middle of the night. They are true love.

Our villa. We had this place all to ourselves for the week for cheaper than if we all got rooms at a Motel 6. It's nice to be married to a man who must've been a travel agent in his past life.

Couldn't wipe this smile off his face as long as we were at the beach. Oh, all the trouble I've gone to entertaining Michael through the long cold winter, when he is happy as a lark just to play in the sand and water.

There were some hikes through some seriously cool rock formations, although this is a poor shot of it.

Gotta love the sand-in-mouth expression of Sir Smalls. Sorry to my mil Joy for posting an eyes closed picture, but you still look cute anyway and I couldn't help myself. He was asking for you this morning.

Best News EVER (to a pregnant woman)

2011-03-10T07:25:00.000-05:00

My due date is OVER THREE WEEKS SOONER than I thought it was all this time. I thought the pregnancy was 18wks 2 days, but I just found out at the sonogram yesterday that it is 21wks 4 days. Seriously, how awesome is that?! I couldn't stop laughing with giddiness of the news, to the point that I think the sonogram lady thought I was a little unfit to be bringing life into this world. Maybe even Rob is wondering. But I think any pregnant woman would back me on my over-the-top reaction.

If I could sell something like "subtract 3 weeks from your pregnancy" on Ebay, I'll bet it would go for enough money to start up a Taco Bell and Titos Tacos and Beto's in Stockholm in order to put an end to the cravings I've endured without them during this pregnancy. During the last week, I recall at least 4 nights with very realistic dreams about me and Mexican food. One was a nightmare where I was chewing out a worker at Taco Bell because I had been waiting around for hours for an order of a tostada and nachos supreme, while they handed out food to everyone else, and then they told me they were all out. I woke up Rob with my yelling.

Okay, and now on to other news I am ecstatic about...it's a GIRL! We've been calling the baby Chilla for a long time (long story), but now that we know it is a she, her name is Ella. I know that news should come first, but the fact is I was expecting it to be a girl or a boy and either case would have left me on cloud nine. The first news was totally a surprise and I have since had to figure out alternate explanations to happenings with my body that led me to definitively think I was not pregnant in October when in fact I was. Anyway...I guess I ought to leave it at that although I would love to chat more because it really was quite surprising. The new due date is July 16th. Rob will tell you July 22nd because that is what the ultrasound lady said, but the ultrasound lady contradicted herself and made a mistake. I'm sure we will be making a bet about who is right very soon and I will be winning all sorts of back and foot massage time out of it, thank you very much ultrasound lady.

Slides

2011-02-27T16:47:00.000-05:00

To say that Michael loves slides would be an understatement. He talks about them all the time. Well not about them, he just says "slide" a lot. Look at the pure joy on his face. By-the-way, every other kid going down this slide was at least 2 or 3 years older then Michael. He doesn't care, in fact, he is pushing kids out of the way to go down it. He has no fear, and it is fun to watch. Not sure how that will play out in a few years when he is even crazier and still has no fear, but oh well.

Spring Training

2011-02-21T14:02:00.000-05:00

In honor of Spring Training starting up, Michael and I wore our Giants World Champions shirts. Lucky little kid, he is a Giants fan for one whole season and he gets a championship. I had to wait 31, and my Dad had to wait 52 (I am counting since 1958, when the Giants moved to The City.) Last year, even living in Sweden, I was able to make it to 4 Giants games (including 1 playoff game against the Phillies). We will see if I am able to make it out to any games this year.

The Artist

2011-02-11T16:11:00.001-05:00

Check out the serious look on his face.

Fish

2011-02-04T17:07:00.002-05:00

Here is Michael's new favorite video. (And mine.) No surprise that he started making the sign for fish this day. Doesn't have the hugest spoken vocabulary, but he is picking up signs left and right...I have to keep learning more.

This is at the Butterfly house in Stockholm with my friend Krista and her son Ben. The best part of it was that they have to keep it at a tropical climate for all the butterflies and so it was the first time in months that we could feel like we were outdoors and be comfortable in a t-shirt, and Michael could play in the dirt. Honestly, it was worth the price of admission just to let Michael play in the dirt since it's been so long since we've seen any, let along gone outside without gloves. That's okay. Life is good here.

Pickles Pickles Pickles

2011-01-22T18:00:00.002-05:00

I can't stop thinking about pickles. It is almost 11:30 and I have not yet gone to bed because I can't stop this raging debate between my watering taste buds (evil) begging for a pickle, and my brain (good) telling me that it is going to make me feel so gross later. Honestly - I have literally been thinking about pickles for almost 2 hours.
If you haven't caught on yet, this is the delirium I am subject to only during pregnancy.* Back in November, when I was about 2.5 weeks along - well before any test could confirm the truth - I found myself sitting on the couch after having plowed through almost an entire jar of spanish olives, when I took a step back from myself and looked at the scene and went, Omigosh, I'm totally pregnant. I didn't explain that scenario on my first visit to the OB/GYN when she asked about when I first had my first positive pregnancy test and I told her I never took one. But the spanish olives incident was pretty much proof in the pudding (yum!) for me, and of course it's only gotten worse (better?) since then.
The cravings aren't so bad when it's for tacos or whatever else, because I just eat it. But pickles and I have had a rough history where I start and just can't stop until I've downed half a jar. It never ends well. I always end up feeling totally gross with that awful aftertaste for at least 24 hours.
Last month I even wrote myself a journal memo where I made myself write "Pickles are a mistake" ten times with a vow to remember that next time the craving hit. I think I ate 4 or 5 in a row that day and it wasn't good aftermath.
The cool thing about this pregnancy is that food tastes better than it has ever tasted ever. I am constantly proclaiming that this or that is the best thing I have ever eaten, and it really feels that way. The other day it was just a simple artichoke that I wanted to write poetry about. I was still thinking about how good it tasted days later and sincerely asked Rob if it wasn't the most amazingly perfect delicious artichoke he'd ever had, and he went "???????????".
Besides the fact that I spend way too much time thinking about food lately, I think this is one side effect of pregnancy that I can be grateful for. I am not a fan of almost anything else about pregnancy, so I'll take the gift of taste as one little gift amongst the headaches, tiredness, blahness, poor sleep, and nausea.
I have many other thoughts to share, but in the middle of writing this, I broke down and ate a pickle. It was one of the best things I have ever eaten. So I think I am able to go to sleep now. It's sad but true, food is honestly that controlling of me lately.
*The baby is due on August 8 - my Bday!

The Mormon Bachelor

2011-01-16T17:19:00.000-05:00

So Rob's sister Andrea was selected to be on The Mormon Bachelor - check it out. Basically, a web version of The Bachelor, and mormon-y, so I'll consider hand-holding a steamy display of public affection.
I think Andrea is awesome in this and I am having so much fun following it all! I'm pretty confident she'll be selected for a date #2 and can't wait to peek in to more of the action....

2010 Favorites

2011-01-14T08:26:00.000-05:00

I don't think the first two actually came out in 2010, it just happened to be the year I discovered them.

Favorite Movie - Son of Rambow - Best movie I'd never heard of till I saw it. One of my favs ever maybe. I'd never even heard of it and watched on a fluke on DVR. Wasn't at all what I thought I was getting based on the title.

Favorite Book - The Hunger Games - Once I got to the heart of the story, it was really obnoxious to put down until I was done.

Favorite Music - To The Sea, by Jack Johnson - Love it when I get an album and every single song makes me happy.

----------------------

I feel so out of the loop sometimes way out here in Sweden and have missed so many good books, movies and music during my years here. I need some new stuff and want your recommendations! Even if it hasn't come out recently, give me a good book, movie, music, whatever. But yes, I have heard of Avatar, even out here it was hyped to the ridiculous proportion that it actually hit my radar. Thanks!

Here is a great picture of Smalls, for your viewing pleasure. He was trying soooooooooooo hard to make it; you should have heard his grunts.

Winter Sport

2011-01-04T15:07:00.000-05:00

I really can't wait for the summer, but in the meantime, I am making the most of the mounds of snow and having plenty of fun with it.

The best part is XC skiing. I can start from my front door and be in this beautiful hilly forest in under 10 minutes. I love it! It's the best full-body workout there is and so much fun too.

We do as the Swedes do and pull Smalls around to places in the sled. He thinks it is the best thing ever and likes to drag his hand along in the snow for added fun.

A little sled ride down the hill that is our "yard".

Christmas 2010

2010-12-31T05:50:00.000-05:00

Here is a random compilations of videos we took on Christmas.

Funny story as follow up about Michael saying "Jesus" - I was so impressed with how well Michael could point out Jesus in any random picture. At church all over the walls he can see a new picture of him in any context and happily proclaim that it was Jesus. But, then we were at a pool the other day and in comes a man with long hair, a beard and moustache. You can already see where this is going. Michael points and excitedly proclaims "Jee-sah! Jee-sah!". The guy totally notices and smiles, so then Michael vigorously tries to wiggle free from us to go over to the man (as we hold him back, laughing), excited beyond belief to see him in the flesh.

It's been cold and snowy

2010-12-17T16:20:00.002-05:00

While I haven't give up on commuting by bike, mother nature hasn't been making it easy.
Sweden is apparently in the middle of the coldest December in 100 years! Global warming - ha! My usual 20-25 minute ride without snow has been taking about 40-45 minutes with snow. Oh well.

Christmas Spirit

2010-12-12T14:15:00.001-05:00

This is why I love Anna and Jeff.
If I had thought of this first, maybe I would have sent out family picture Christmas cards this year.

Thanksgiving

2010-11-25T10:09:00.000-05:00

I am thankful for:

Her

Him

Them

This


This


And most definitely this.

And that I am going to eat crab instead of turkey today.

Mad Skills...

2010-11-20T04:10:00.000-05:00

Climbing on things: check.
Figuring out the sorter: not quite.

Germany

2010-11-06T08:12:00.002-04:00

Traveling with a one-year-old can be, uh, interesting. But I think that in the end we had a good enough time to make it worth it....right Rob? Right???
The best parts of the trip were visiting one of Rob's best friends, Cuddy, his wife Nicole and their cute twin babies; checking out the Heidelberg Castle; and all the moments like this -

I won't go in to all the not-so-shining moments, but let's just say we are reconsidering our Thanksgiving and Christmas vacation options. Anyone have any good advice for vacationing with a crazy one-year-old? Where? What? How? And do you actually come home feeling like, ahhhhhhh, that was nice?

Just outside the Heidelberg Castle

The GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT!

2010-11-01T22:33:00.004-04:00

Waking up at 3:00am to watch baseball never felt so good.

Halloween and Giants

2010-10-30T14:38:00.002-04:00

I bought this dog at a thrift store so I could cut off an ear and use it for Rob's Swedish Chef eyebrows and moustache. Now, much to my amusement, this one-eared second-hand dog seems to be his favorite stuffed animal. Such compassion.

KING BABY!!!

King Baby, Pippi Longstocking, Swedish Chef
At the American Embassy halloween party

My friend Krista and her cute kids, the lady bug and monkey

This next photo series is Rob cleaning Smalls ears. Smalls really likes to admire what we find (he would also really like us to let him eat it). I meant to just take some pictures of them in their Giants jerseys, but this is what was going on.
It would be nice if the Giants win the World Series in 4 straight so that Rob doesn't have to keep getting up in the middle of the night to watch.

Sorry I didn't wipe his nose before I snapped this...you sort of just want to wipe a rag right over the picture, don't you?

Early Winter

2010-10-24T12:35:00.003-04:00

Ironically, I took this picture the day after my "Fall" post.

I'm going to take pictures of the beautiful, white winter. I will take Smalls out for all sorts of fun in the snow and cold, bundled up in our appropriate gear to make any outing possible. I will get excited about the ski kit conversion to the stroller. But truthfully, this is a "fake it to make it" thing. I'm a California girl who totally misses her flip-flops. And mexican food, while I'm at it.

Fall

2010-10-21T10:28:00.003-04:00

I'm pretty stoked about the rain pants/jacket I got him (and boots from Carin - thanks, David, for your enormous feet and growing out of them way early). Not because it allows him to play on a rainy or wet day, but because now that I bought it I feel pretty much required. He loves it. I love it. Love all around.
Now that it is getting into the sub-freezing temperatures, I was starting to search out toys and stuff I should buy him to make indoors more entertaining through the long winter. But that is not it. I just need to make sure we have the right equipment to just keep getting outdoors.
Sweden tidbit: In their daycare and school (government sponsored starting at 18 months) there is almost no such thing as a "rainy day schedule" or "snow schedule". They all have to have their special snowsuits, boots, etc. at the school at all times and the kids HAVE to go outside to play, almost no matter what. Last year was a rather harsh winter, even for Sweden, and I guess there was only one day they got to stay inside. According to a kid I talked to. I love that mentality.
Now I am just rambling, but when Michael was an infant and not sleeping well, a neighbor gave me the hint to bundle him up and sleep him out on the balcony for naps. All through the winter. This is what they did at the daycare her son went to and she said they slept wonderfully.
I love learning random things like that from them.

Costume Idea

2010-10-21T05:42:00.002-04:00

The killer thing is that you just never know how they are going to turn out.

I had this idea for us all to dress up as something Swedish. Rob - the Muppets Swedish Chef, Smalls - a swedish king (perfect since he is "King Baby"), and me - Pippi Longstocking. I was browsing the internet for ideas on how to put these costumes together and many pictures I saw of Pippi really got me going on the idea. But then I came to one that now has me scared that perhaps this is not a costume for adults. Scroll and see. I am laughing so hard, but considering I might do it anyway, I should probably cry.


darling as can be

spunky

cute

Uh-oh

Tjur Ruset (The Bull Run)

2010-10-19T08:42:00.000-04:00

Last Saturday I ran in one of the most fun races ever, Tjur Ruset.

from http://www.marathon.se/news/article.cfm?NewsId=965003

We ran through rivers, streams, ponds, swamps, mud, marshes, man-made obstacles, a motor-cross course with tires and pipes, over dumpsters, etc. It was a muddy, messy, freezing mess.

from http://www.marathon.se/news/article.cfm?NewsId=965003

It was supposed to be a 10k, but then I guess the course ran a little long (I heard someone say 11.5k), and then out of the 5000 participants, of course I happened to be in the group of about 40 women who went off course and ran around for an extra 2k or so. So my total was something more like 13k. They had the ladies run first, and the race leader missed a turn and everyone just followed blindly until we knew something went wrong. Somewhere behind us someone must've had their head up and gotten everyone else back on track, because then by the time we made our way back there were hundreds of women ahead of us.

from http://www.marathon.se/news/article.cfm?NewsId=965003

In a way it was kind of nice because 1. I was having a really fun time, so I really didn't mind the extra distance. 2. It messed up the arrangement of faster to slower, and since it was trail running it was difficult to pass. This meant that I was usually slowed down and didn't have to endure the physical discomfort of pushing myself. When it was impossible to pass, I just enjoyed that aspect guilt-free! 3. It was probably safer to go at a relaxed pace anyway. There was one section probably about 1.5k long through a freezing cold marsh (anytime I tried to pass people and went off the beaten path, I was cracking through a thin layer of ice). So, after about 15 mins or so of running through ice-water, you could not feel your feet and when we hit solid ground again everyone was falling over. I twisted my ankle a bit but it never hurt or swelled, I suppose because it was already frozen anyway. But the point is, I was glad to take it easy until I could feel my feet again. I think if I hadn't already thrashed my time by going off course then I likely would have injured myself in that section. 4. It is mentally nicer to pass than to be passed.

I don't have any actual pictures of myself, because I was a mean-ol' wife and told Rob not to come with Smalls and cheer me on. Smalls had been rather cranky and whiny for three days straight and I just wanted the time to relax on the car ride over, all to myself, listening to the radio and singing along and being free.

Getting muddy from head to toe and wearing yourself out is really, really good for the soul.

Who's coming to do this with me again next year? So far I've got Rob, his dad, and I'm working on Krista. Who else? Bueller? Bueller?

Michael at 13 months

2010-10-12T08:54:00.002-04:00

Here is a summary of Michael at nearly 13 months. He is so cute at this age I don't ever want it to end. Kind of.


He was being awfully quiet while I was in the kitchen doing dishes....	Rob has now learned to better protect his cookies.

Eye color: mysterious. But I think they sort of match the rug in this picture, don't they? I can now rule out blue, but they don't really look like my brown color just yet. So either brown or hazel, I suppose, but they are still sort of this mystery color. When he was younger there were many days I thought they looked like they were going to be blue. But that hue has disappeared.

Favorite word: titta. It's swedish for "look!", and he goes around all day pointing at everything and saying, "teeeee-tah! tee-tah!".

Other words: dada, mama (although today he was looking at my (Lorena) picture and proclaimed "dada!", so we still have some ground to cover...), Jesus (we have a little Christus statue that he is fascinated with lately and he points and says "jzzzz-ah".), and just yesterday - goose (ghhhzzzzz). He thinks that word is hilarious for some reason and would laugh with glee the first 30 or so times I said it.

Comfort item: his Bear Suit (the brown sleep sack), although he'll sort of snuggle up to almost any fuzzy blanket or stuffed animal. He makes these sweet sounding gurgly gggggggghhhhh and mmmmmmmm sounds when he grabs it and puts it to his face, and I can tell without even looking that he must've found his Bear Suit.

Bedtime books: The Going to Bed Book, by Sandra Boynton - this has been read to him literally every night almost since his birth.
Rob also reads him a pop-up version of "Guess How Much I Love You" before bed, which is one of the cutest books on the planet, I believe. At least it is when Rob reads it to Smalls. Oh, and Karl the Chicken.

Favorite toy: books. He just can't get enough of books. If it was almost anything else I might be worried, but I guess no one ever read too many books. If it is not him wanting to be read to, then it is him pulling them off the shelves, or sliding them across the floor, or flipping through them himself. I guess to be more general, he just loves pictures. Because he always begs to look at the pictures on the walls also.

New interesting activity: dropping stuff off the second floor opening to the bottom floor and watching it crash. Today he did it with an apple and that became a bit messy.

Favorite things to find and point at: fans and lights. Last week we went to visit Rob's office and Smalls made his way around every room finding and pointing to every fan on the whole floor. The other day we were at a friend's house, he wandered off, and sure enough I found him in her bedroom pointing at the fan and yelling "teee-tah! teee-tah!". There are many more examples.

Other random fascinations: sewer caps, drain grates, and plant pots. He will find them all and pick away at them. It's not so much the plant pot, per se, but the dirt or rocks that are inevitably in the pot. He loves flowers too, but that is obvious. Who wouldn't.

Signs: butterfly* and slide. He surprised me yesterday when he did the slide sign back for the first time. I was pretty excited. Both totally useless, but it is fun, which is the whole point of it to me anyway. The ones that would be potentially more useful, like "more", "food", "all-done", or "I'm bored - entertain me!", I usually have no mistake interpreting from him anyway. Usually.**

Favorite playground activity: the slide. The swing lost best-thing-ever status once he learned to walk.

Favorite food: grapes. He practically levitates with excitement when he sees these at the grocery store.

Funny new development: likes to feed us his food. Soooo cute. When he gets really into it he starts to take the food out of his own mouth to feed me. I tell him, "no, I want this" and I hand him another piece of food from his tray for him to put in my mouth. But then he puts that piece in his mouth too, before he takes it out to feed me. Gross. But I don't really care because he's my boy and it's fun.

And, finally, Rob and I both think it is pretty awesome that he drinks from our sports bottles. For a while he refused sippy cups and bottles and would only use our sports bottles. Now he'll drink from whatever, but we think it's pretty cute with the sports bottle and we have like a million of them from my biking days. He has refused milk ever since he was weaned at 12 months, so it's just water. I have to make sure he gets plenty of cheese and yogurt.

*credit to Roxanne for teaching him that. :)
**This leads me to a random question. Suppose, hypothetically, that Rob and I were bad parents and forgot to give him his snack right on time because we were trying to get us out the door for our little outing. And Smalls was being WAY whiny. And it took me several minutes to remember that it was because he was well overdue for his snack.
Okay, now here is the question: If he was capable of saying "I'm hungry - feed me!", would he have? Do you think that at 13 months, he would even have enough bodily awareness to know that he was being whiny because he was hungry and wanted food? Of course he eagerly ate his food as soon as I presented it to him and was immediately in a better mood. But I just wonder. Because even as an adult I am prone to certain moods from things like fasting (fast Sunday yesterday), or an achy back, or a case of "the pmmms" (as Rob calls it), and I don't even realize the root cause until later. So I wonder if a kid could say "I'm hungry" at that age, if it would even do any good. I sort of doubt it, barring the extreme. I feel like there might have to be some real neglect - way past the whiny mood stage - before they thought "I'm hungry". But I obviously don't really know. Just curious for any thoughts. Perhaps from the owner of a 3 year old who is capable of saying it. Do they? Or do they still just act whiny?

Ahhhh...

2010-10-04T14:29:00.001-04:00

Cuddles. Ahhhhh.
Sadly, he wouldn't do this if it was just me, minus the bear suit (the brown sleepsack) and minus a hurtful accident.
Before I entered motherhood, I hadn't stopped to consider just how nice it would feel to comfort to my monkey.
p.s. Thanks for the pic, Anna. It relaxes me just to look at it.

Grandma and Grandpa Candrian's Visit

2010-10-02T15:51:00.001-04:00

...been meaning to post some pictures from Rob's parents visit.
It was great to have them here. I think they are so enamored with Mr. Smalls that they could not have cared less if the rest of us were around. But who could blame 'em?

We all cheered on Rob's dad as he ran the Stockholm Half Marathon. How many grandpas can claim that?


Three generations of Candrian men: Robert Michael Candrian, Michael Candrian, and Michael Robert Candrian. Is it any wonder that I accidentally wrote Smalls name incorrectly on his birth certificate? Luckily Rob caught it in time before we sent it in.

Grandpa Candrian was STOKED to see Biggie Smalls cheering for him as he ran past, and picked him up like he was a trophy at the end of the race.

Fun with grandma.

Small's first birthday.

No one makes him laugh like his gramps.

Basking in every minute of attention from his grandma. (Behind them is an old church in Sigtuna, from the 1200's.)

Facebook?

2010-09-27T15:14:00.000-04:00

I don't have a facebook account. I'm not going to get one. I am 31 years old. Does that mean that I am an old curmudgeon? In 20 years will Michael laugh at me like I'm one of those people who refuses to get a cell phone. Perhaps. Or maybe I subscribe more to what Malcom Gladwell says in this article.

Mt. Kebnekaise

2010-09-22T16:59:00.000-04:00

Starting out on our way to those mountains waaay in the distance.

Last week my bff Anna and her husband Jeff visited us at the same time as Rob's parents, leaving us with the magnificent opportunity to leave Smalls behind for the first time since his birth and go on an adventure together.

We hiked the highest peak in Sweden, Mt. Kebnekaise. It is way up north, within the Arctic Circle. I had a wonderful time - I LOVE that sort of thing and this was the first time I've ever done a hike that required multiple days of backpacking in, staying at a base camp, and doing a climb that was more what I would think of as mountaineering than hiking. It was so revitalizing for my entire being. But sometimes I wish I could get that from a hobby like, say, scrapbooking. Why I am so drawn to outdoor things that make me so sore and tired and cold and uncomfortable and fearing for my life?

Anna, jazzed up on life and likely singing camp songs.

A Sami hut. Or at least I like to believe that is what it is.

Anna's trusty old hiking shoes...not so trusty. The soles started coming off several miles into day 1. Luckily Jeff is a pretty clever engineer and came up with a pretty clever trick of threading them on. Worked well enough to get her to base camp where she borrowed some boots for the summit.

Rain clouds moving in...uh-oh

Super Best Friends Club

Thick fog moving in

Getting higher...and colder...and at a couple points we were getting pelted hard in the face with hail. If I was Smalls I would have cried.

No more trail. It was pretty tricky finding the markers for the path to the top in this thick fog. We were glad to have met up with a few others who also made the summit that day and form our own little "international expedition group". Four Americans, two Swedes, and two Kiwis. Together we found our way to the top, but we all agreed none would have made it on their own. We were like our own little organism, sending our feelers out till we found our way to the peak.

Oh...there is the marker. Try finding that little red spot when it is covered in snow and thick, thick fog among all the other rocks.

We made it! It was surreal near the top - the fog was so dense and white you literally could not tell the difference between the white air and the snow covered ground. It gave a few of us a feeling of vertigo. We had to be very careful - if you didn't pay close attention you could walk right off a ledge thinking the air was ground. Five of the eight of us actually stopped several meters short of the small tip-top (yay for GPS!), as it was a glacier and quite slippery and dangerous. Rob was one of the three who went to the top, but when he had a scary slip on his way up it sealed my decision that I was close enough to call it good....

"I'm Anna and I'm awesome!"

Beautiful vistas on our hike back down.

We were past that mtn behind us, up an even taller one!

Add caption

The happy honeymooners. A one year delayed honeymoon, hiking Sweden's highest peak, sharing a tiny little nook of a room with Rob and I in the base camp lodge. They are so cool.

The shoelace remedy for Anna's boots gave out a couple miles before the end of the trip, making her rugged boots look more like elf shoes. Not even that could wipe the smile off of Anna's face. Just gave us more amo to giggle about.

Birth Story

2010-09-12T16:28:00.000-04:00

Michael turned one today and I have way too many sentiments floating around in my head to write anything cohesive. Among other things, I can't help but revisit the actual birth that happened one year ago today. It set into motion the most difficult weeks of my life directly after his birth, but then of course the innumerable moments of joy that flood our lives now.
So, in honor of this day and my reminiscings, HERE is Michael's birth story, as I wrote it in my livejournal way back when I remembered it a lot more clearly than I do now. I am too self conscience to have it written directly on my blog - there are some womanly, female, estrogen packed details - but I figure if you go to the trouble to click on the link now then you asked for it.

Happy Birthday Michael

2010-09-12T04:51:00.000-04:00

Today is Michael's birthday. It is crazy to think of how much our lives have changed in the last year. I'm sure Lorena will have something more entertaining to write, but I wanted to post some of my favorite pictures of Smalls during the first year of his life. His transformation from a crying, grumpy baby to a happy, curious little toddler is amazing. He is luck enough to have his Grandma and Grandpa Candrian and his godmother Anna and her husband Jeff travel out to Sweden just for his birthday. Happy birthday Michael Robert Candrian aka Biggie Smalls, aka King Baby, aka Goober. You are loved by a lot of people all over the world!

Nintendo Skills

2010-09-06T17:05:00.000-04:00

Lately I find myself thinking back to my days as a kid playing Nintendo. Or to be more exact, trying to get the Nintendo to work. Usually when we put in a game cartridge, it wouldn't work simply by sticking it in. Getting it to work was half the fun of Nintendo.

One of my brothers discovered that it would work if you blew on the cartridge's metal strip first. Problem solved.
But then that stopped working, so we had to get creative:
One looooooong blow. Three short blows. Make the strip wet by licking it. Lick it, then blow. Clean with shirt, lick, blow. Blow in it through your shirt. Lick, under the shirt blow, then another lick....
When those methods failed, we got creative about how we entered the cartridge in to the Nintendo. First it was veeeery slowly and carefully. Later we were slamming it in. Then it was other slight of hand maneuvers. Finally, some sibling (Glen, I think) discovered the trick of wedging a screwdriver head into the machine that held the cartridge at just the right position to function. He was regarded as a genius. Soon we were stuffing all sorts of objects into the Nintendo to make it work.

I'm not sure that in all my negotiating with my mom to get more video game time that I ever thought of the reasoning that I was building important mothering skills. I think I came up with the usual "hand-eye coordination" and "driving skills" stuff that even I didn't really buy into.

But everyday as I work with raising my little monkey (who sometimes passes as a human baby), I find myself trying trick after trick after trick to get him to eat, to get him to nurse, to get him to drink, to get him to sleep, to get him to stop crying, to keep him entertained, to keep him still for his diaper change, to keep him quiet at church, to get down his vitamin D, to...to...to.... I find one solution, I regard myself a genius, and I hold on to that solution as the holy grail of solutions. But then it stops working. I regard myself as incompetent. But I keep trying, I get creative, I find a new solution, and the cycle repeats.
When it comes to nursing, the other night I actually found myself repeating the secret code for infinite lives to that game Contra. (Up up down down left right left right A B start.) Because the first several steps of the Contra code seemed to be quite similar to the secret pattern for getting Smalls to finally settle down and nurse. Left may not work, right may not work - but left up left up right up right up left up right - that was the secret code that finally worked.
Feeding at meals. Oooooooooooh, I could go on for ages about the special tricks to get this to happen: Spoon. Only spoon if in my lap. Peas, he loves peas. No spoon, only hands. Only hands if it was MY food. Spoon if it was MY spoon. No spoon, no hands, only fork. Only fork if he could hold the fork. This piece of cheese, but not THAT piece of cheese. Peas, he hates peas. Throw food off the tray to show me he is done with lunch. Put him down on the ground and discover he is NOT done with lunch as he eagerly devours his table scraps. Hands and spoon and fork, it's all good now. Yogurt - no way. Now give me that yogurt! He's not hungry, so out of the high chair and into my lap, and now he IS hungry....
I just feel lucky that Nintendo prepared me for how to deal with all of this.
Thanks, mom, for letting me play.
But Smalls will probably not get one. I hear video games function much too reliably these days.

Racing the Swedish Way

2010-09-03T16:41:00.003-04:00

Last weekend I rode in my first bike race, called the Vasatrampet, in about 2 years, or basically since becoming pregnant with Michael. It was a lot of fun, although it was quite different than the road racing I used to do in the States.

To clarify, here is a broad generalization to contrast our two cultures; I feel like Americans thrive off of competition and quest for the extreme, while Swedes thrive off of cooperation and moderation. (I've heard enough Swedes make similar statements and seen enough examples to know that, although a stereotype, it has a basis.) A saying in Sweden with roots back to the viking era is "Enough is best", or in other words, get just what you need and no more. It can be looked down upon for anyone to stick their head out - for example to be wealthy or to try to be too good at something or too competitive. You see this in the political ideals - really really high taxes (so it is difficult to get too wealthy) but the payoff is that everyone is pretty much taken care of. I also notice it in the way salespeople have no pushiness whatsoever. I notice it in the serving sizes at restaurants. I notice it in the houses (sure there are some nice ones, but not the abundance of mcmansions I'm accustomed to seeing in the States.) But I probably have noticed the most examples in the biking culture.

So back to the race. It was 55 miles, and I would say that the first 53 miles of it didn't really feel like a race against each other; it was more like a race with each other. Like a team time trial, basically. Even at the end, the speed ramped up but there was no major battles that I could see. We pacelined the whole way. Of course it naturally broke up into groups - probably only about 15 people could keep the pace of the lead group - but within this group it was like we were all just trying to get to the finish line in our fastest time, all everyone together, regardless of the team. Although I must say that the vast majority was Team Magnus (the team I joined a few months ago), so it made sense we were helping each other. But no one seemed put off by other individuals mooching off of our draft. There were no attacks, EVER, even in the end, as I learned that here, for this race, that would have been very, very bad sportsmanship. But I am used to attacks being the name of the game, part of the competition aspect of a bike race. Anyway, I am sure that part of that was due to it being a mass start style amatuer race (I'm sure their pro races would have the attacks and competition), but I still know that even the most amatuer of races in the States would have attacks and plenty of flashes of testosterone and battles for dominance.

I got caught behind a crash right before the last mile or so of the race, so I was disappointed that I did not get to see how the end played out among the race leaders, but the guys who placed all said that there was no sprint at the end. Yes, it was fast, but they did not do a proper sprint. I almost feel like they would hold hands across the finish line if they could. There was only one other girl who also kept up with the lead group with me, and I figured that my only goal (besides simply having my curiosity filled to do a Swedish bike race and see how they do it here) would be to try to beat her. However, she was one of the people who crashed in front of me so we didn't really get to race it out at the end. And now I am thinking that was a lucky thing we didn't race to the finish together because maybe I would have looked really bad if I was out there being all tactical to draft behind her till the finish and then trying to out-sprint her at the end, while everyone else just held their position....I would have felt so dumb! So I was lucky to have been sparred that embarrassment. I am learning the Swedish way. But it is so against my highly competitive nature! But it is good for me at this point in my life when I am doing this sort of thing "just for fun" (which, ironically, I've found is actually less fun than when I used to take it pretty seriously...). I later learned that they don't even post or keep track of the placings for the race. But it was definitely, decidedly a race. Would that even be legal in the States? (Along the same lines, they do not get grades in school here until they are in eighth grade.)

Anyway, it was a good time. It was fun working with teammates and non-teammates, without those surging efforts of people trying to rip my legs off and me trying to do the same to them, since I really don't have the fitness for that now anyway. And I am enjoying Sweden more than ever. There are a few issues, as you can see from what we were wearing in this side picture in ***AUGUST***. But overall, I feel happy and at home here, and I am having fun figuring out the culture and language and food (I fed Smalls blood pudding the other day, at the recommendation of his nurse. Yes, bloody bloody blood pudding. More on that in a future post. I was trying to play it cool like I'm-so-Swedish, but really I wanted to puke.).

Below: In our hotel the night before the race.
Bedtime Battle Winner - Biggie Smalls! What little boy could possibly go to sleep when this must CLEARLY be a slumber party! How could he go to sleep when he knows we are RIGHT THERE, omigosh, BEST THING EVER. The child was as hyped up as we've ever seen him, crawling wildly from one spot to the next, wheezing in and out like he was going to hyperventilate, and falling over in fits of excitement. It was just like puppy flurries.

Grandparents Visit

2010-08-24T10:26:00.000-04:00

It's not too often that your parents go on a mission and that means you end up getting to see them more often, so we feel like we won the lottery with their assignment to Helsinki. They got to come visit us last weekend and the novelty of getting to play tour guide in such a beautiful city still has not worn off on me. It was a great time!

Toilet Paper

2010-08-20T16:47:00.003-04:00

Somehow I feel like this discovery is like the official marker for entry into toddlerhood.

(He found it in my nightstand drawer. What is t.p. doing in my nightstand drawer? I ran out of tissue. You can take the girl out of the ghetto, but...)
I cleaned up the mess and threw it in the trashcan, of course. About 10 minutes later I had some other distraction and came back to find this:

Secondary evidence of an emerging toddler is the other classic favorite activity:

It was not that long ago that I took this picture, but for the life of me I can't remember why he got away with this bare-naked. A little dangerous for poor innocent Clifford The Dog.

Games with Dad

2010-08-14T15:32:00.000-04:00

Here is a cute game Rob likes to play with Smalls:They are not dressed alike on purpose. We're pretty cute and all, but not that cute.

Technologically Advanced Toddlers

2010-08-14T15:31:00.002-04:00

I am posting what is truly a boring lame video unless you look at it through the following lens:
this was taken by a 2 year old.
My nephew Samuel apparently got hold of my camera, without ever having used it or being taught how to turn it on and make it shoot a video (you have to push a special button to start and stop it) or anything. We simply found this surprise gem on it when we got home. What is it with kids these days and technology? Rob and I were cracking up when we watched it.

Glen and Maren, this is for you. Life through the lens of your 2 year old.

Favorite parts: when he says "remote" and later when he pauses on the Steve Madden game.

Turning 30

2010-08-14T15:31:00.001-04:00

Last week I turned thirty. I didn't think much of it, or I should say I didn't think that I thought much of it, until I looked in the mirror after getting ready for church and realized I was dressed like a girl. I had on:
a] purple leggings. I have not worn leggings since the 80's, and certainly not purple ones.

b] a pink floral dress I have not worn in years and I'm sure I bought in the juniors department way back when.
c] hair clips I have definitely not used since I was 20.
I am sure my attire was not a coincidence even though I certainly did not enter the day consciously wondering what I could wear to make myself not feel like such an honest-to-goodness-really-for-real-now-adult.

Maybe it's because Rob was singing that song "the old gray fru she ain't what she used to be, ain't what she used to be, ain't what she used to be" all that week to me.
He made up for it by having a surprise birthday party and cooking up a really great BBQ and strawberry shortcake (my favorite!) and then even cleaned up.

Here is a little clip of the song they sing for birthdays in Sweden. The story line of the song is like this:

May she live till 100 years old.

Yes surely she will live till 100 years old.

And when she lives till 100 years, then shall she be shot in a wheelbarrow.

Or something like that.

More Vacation Pictures

2010-08-06T11:41:00.002-04:00

Since Rob did the last post about the Candrian side of our summer vacation, I guess it is time that I posted a bit about the Davis side!
We loved getting to have my brother Troy and his fun family out to visit us in Stockholm in July.
Here are some pictures from their visit:

(Troy had a talent for finding many signs like this.)

And here are some of the only pictures I took while we were in Utah. I guess when I have times in life with too many great moments all at once, it's too much and I pretty much just bag picture taking and blogging all together.
In addition to Amy's wedding and everything Rob posted about, it was fun getting to see my old friend Missy, playing tennis with Kelly and meeting her cute baby Ollie, and mountain biking with Craig.
Here are a few with my family at Park City taking the lift up for the Alpine Slide. It was so great to get together with most of my family - although we really missed you mom, dad and Garth!

Starting from scratch

2010-08-04T16:50:00.000-04:00

Rob called down to me from upstairs tonight, randomly wondering what I would do if he shaved off all of Smalls hair. I paused for a brief moment to conclude I would probably just laugh and he could do whatever he wanted. Maybe it will turn out better with a fresh start.

Bald is beautiful.

Like father like son.L

Utah Trip

2010-07-30T16:55:00.001-04:00

Here are some pictures from the Utah trip:

awwwwww

Note: we didn't take any pictures. We brought our camera but I guess there were enough people snapping photos that we just spaced it. So all of these pics were taken by others...

Short recap:
- Michael was able to visit his real home country, AMERICA! He was so excited to go to America that he was on his best behavior for the whole flight. We were seriously amazed at how good he was. Random strangers were offering to hold him and were taking pictures because they thought he was so cute. It was a wedding miracle (not people thinking he was cute, but him being good for more then 15 mins.)
- Michael met his buddy and Candrian cousin, James, who is two months younger then him. Michael found him interesting for about 15 mins that then decided that the most interesting thing about James was his pacifier - which he could steal. But not steal to suck on (like most kids) steak to chew on. He is weird.
- Amy got married to John in Manti - the same place where my grandparents were sealed back, back, back in the day. It was hot out so Smalls decided to try and charm everyone at the wedding lunch by going shirtless.
- Michael got to hang out with his Grandparents and go on a swing! Smalls loves swings.
- Michael got to go to Park City.
- Michael met his Godfather, Craig (no pictures)
- Michael got to meet almost all of his Davis cousins (sorry no pictures) and go swimming and play with a bunch of cool new toys.
- Michael got to hang with his Grandparents again.
- Michael met Noah (Ali and Steph's cute kid, who is almost two) (again, sorry, no pictures)
- Michael travelled to Minnesota where we spent the night at Mike and Sara's new house and had fun chasing Max, Alexis, and Kermit (the dog). (no pictures)
- Michael again amazed us by being a super happy, nice baby while we flew back to Sweden.
- Michael and Lorena have jet leg, and Michael returned to his sometimes happy, sometimes grumpy ways.
The End.

P.S. Since we had tons of great family around who were willing to watch Biggie Smalls (he has a way of charming people into wanting to watch him) Lorena and I were able to go on the Alpine Slide and Coaster in Park City, play tennis, visit friends, go mountain biking, see a movie, and go out to dinner. This was the first movie we had seen in a theater in a year and a half (we don't watch a lot of movies anyway, but still...)!

Smalls, James, and Amy at the wedding lunch.

We tried to give Michael and James a bath together. They were not enthused.

matching outfits, thanks Aunt Andrea

meeting James, trying to steal his pacifier

sweet, a piano

Grandma and Grandpa were nice enough to try and entertain me when I woke up at 6:00 so my parents could keep sleeping. Here I am with Grandpa's glasses

For some reason, my Grandma loves me so much it brings tears to my eyes...

fun at the pool in Park City

Grandpa and his grandsons

Summer Vacation part two

2010-07-29T14:54:00.000-04:00

Sorry for the long absence. We were in Utah for Amy's wedding.
We forgot to take pictures, so we are waiting for my Mom to post some of hers to shutterfly or something. Once she does we will get an awesome post up with many great pictures of everyone's favorite 10-month-old, Biggie Smalls. Until then, here is a picture from a few weeks ago:

South Africa

2010-07-07T13:50:00.000-04:00

The trip to South Africa was awesome. I wish I could have stayed longer (I'm sure Lorena wishes I hadn't stayed so long!). Everybody we met was super friendly, the scenery was amazing, and the soccer was great. I am already making plans to attend the World Cup in 2014 in Brazil, but I think I will take Lorena and Smalls along to that one. The only negative was that South Africans didn't seem to be the best at giving directions or estimating how long it would take to get somewhere. The usual answer to our inquiry about how to find something or get somewhere was "Oh, you just go down the road and you will see it." Or, when asking how long it took to get somewhere "Oh it's just a few hours." A few as in three, four, five? "Four or so." Well both times we were told something was four hours away it ended up being seven! Oh well. Tyson (my buddy who is living in Brazil) and I were able to attend four games and visit Kruger National Park to go on a safari. One of the highlights of the trip was sneaking (multiple times) on to the FIFA VIP bus that would leave from our hotel to get free rides to the games - complete with police escort, so we could get around traffic and get to the games on time!

We saw Mexico - Argentina, Brazil - Chile, Paraguay - Japan, and Uruguay - Ghana.
In Kruger we saw: Lions, leopards, giraffes, elephants, zebras, wildebeasts, impalas, kudus, springboks, civets, hippos, ostriches, baboons, some crazy looking birds, and some other versions of gazelles whose names I can't remember.

Here are some pictures:

I'm Biggie Smalls, I can do what I want!

2010-06-30T15:38:00.004-04:00

An ode to my baby:
Oh, my lovely little monkey Michael, you practically came out of the womb exclaiming this.

They said that once your water breaks, your baby will almost always come within 24 hours. You made the doctors induce labor to coax you out, THREE days later. You were like, "I'm Biggie Smalls, and I will come when I want."

They said that newborn babies are supposed to be super drowsy and want to sleep all the time.
You were super awake and wanted to nurse all the time. ALL the time. ALL THE TIME! As soon as I thought you might be asleep on your own for a minute and tried to pull away, you would wake up crying and proclaiming "I'm Biggie Smalls and I defy your attempts to make me sleep!"

A couple weeks into your life they said to breastfeed your baby between 25 - 45 minutes. You took 10-15. You were always done so fast, proclaiming "I'm Biggie Smalls, and I will not conform to any book!"

They said a baby will not first smile until they are six weeks old, at least. You smiled at two weeks. Right after a horrendously long fit of crying. But you just smiled up at some angel off in the distance while singing "I'm Biggie Smalls, and I'll smile whenever I want!"

They said swaddle your baby. You broke out of every single swaddle like Houdini, proclaiming "I'm Biggie Smalls and I defy your weak attempts to contain King Baby!" (Until we got the miracle blanket. Even Baby Houdini can't crack that one.)

They said give your baby a binkie to calm him down. You spat them out, proclaiming "I'm Biggie Smalls and I defy your unsatisfactory attempts to calm King Baby!"

They said to breastfeed your baby when they wake up for their naps, otherwise if you feed them to sleep they will learn a bad sleep association and not learn to fall asleep on their own. As if you can just offer a feed to a baby at any time and they will take it if they are hungry. HA! Any time I try to feed you when you are not in a drowsy state, ready for sleep, you're all cheeky like "I'm Biggie Smalls, so tell me why would I ever breastfeed at a time when I am awake and ready for action?"

My friends said their babies chased the spoon around at mealtimes. Baby sign language people said to teach your baby the words for food and hungry first, because mealtime is supposedly something they are really interested in. When I try to feed you, you are exacerbated and declare "I'm Biggie Smalls, and I'm not going to open my mouth for any spoon of yours. Also, ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

RR!!!"

I thought that changing a baby's diaper was to be done with the baby lying on their back. Nowadays, it happens like this only one in a dozen attempts, if that. You twist and squirm and scamper away the very second I place you on your back. I chase you around the room like a circus clown with my fresh diaper. I've learned I can only succeed if you are occupied in a standing position, generally up at the bookcase pulling out the books one by one as I burn off at least five Swedish meatballs in my attempt to secure the diaper around your on-the-go body. You're like "I'm Biggie Smalls, and I don't slow down for diapers!"

They said that when babies learn to pull themselves up to standing, they sometimes cry because they then can't get back down to sitting. And it often helps to teach them that skill. You just plopped right down on your cute little bum or hands without ever once getting stuck standing, boasting "I'm Biggie Smalls - you don't scare me, Gravity!"

And even through all of your activeness and neediness, at times you even defy that. You will sit calmly in my lap for 30, sometimes even 40 minutes at a stretch as we read and read and read your books together. Your like, "Mom, I'm Biggie Smalls. And you can't put a label on me!"

People say that babies can be cranky and whiny and needy when they are teething. Since that described you for say, the first 7.5 months of your life, people were always saying "Oh, he must be teething". I can't even tell you how many times I heard that to explain your behavior. But you were never teething. Then, right before you turned 8 months, when you finally had your longest stretch of days in a row of pleasantness of your entire life, your teeth broke through. Same now with your top teeth coming in. You've been great! Your like, "I will be cranky when I am not teething, and awesome when I am - just to confound you, suckas! I'm Biggie Smalls and that's how I roll."

And now I was almost positive that you were supposed to get your middle teeth before the ones to the sides. But of course, you are The One Biggie Smalls, and so what else should I expect than that you would will the top side teeth to come in before the top middle ones. Just to show everyone that you are Biggie Smalls, and you can do what you want.

You are going to look like the biggest goof ever if those middle top teeth don't come in soon hereafter!

World Cup or Bust

2010-06-26T03:08:00.000-04:00

Ok, Smalls isn't going, but if we don't post pictures of him, I don't think anyone looks at the blog.

So today at 7:15 pm I am getting a plane for South Africa! I've always wanted to go to Africa, I've always wanted to go on a Safari, and ever since the US hosted the World Cup in 1994, I've always wanted to go to a World Cup. So I get to accomplish all three at once. I'll be meeting up with my good buddy Tyson, who is traveling from Brasilia via the US; over the course of a week, we will be attending four World Cup games and visiting Krueger National Park. To say that I am excited would be an understatement.

The only (minor) negative (besides leaving Lorena and Biggie Smalls aka King Baby behind) is that I will probably only get to see the 2nd half of the US-Ghana game tonight (my flight lands in Frankfurt at half time, and then takes off about 10 mins after the game should end). If the game goes to extra time, I may have to find a way to make my flight leave late - I don't know if I will be able to wait for the 10 hour flight from Frankfurt to Johannesburg to find out if the US will advance or not. Normally I would have been happy for the US to simply make it out of the group stage, but...if the US wins, we will have tickets to see them play next week! Here are the games we will be attending:

Argentina - Mexico
Brazil - Chile
Paraguay - Japan
and the winner of US/Ghana v. Uruguay/South Korea

I mean, this trip will be cool, but if we somehow get to see the US play in the Quarterfinal - well, here's hoping they beat Ghana today (and that they beat them before I get on my flight!).

So look for us in the crowd. If we are lucky and get to see the US play, I will be wearing my US jersey, but I will not have my face painted. There are some lines that adults shouldn't cross, and painting your face is one of them.

GO USA!

A Royal Wedding

2010-06-19T16:30:00.002-04:00

I can't stop watching this video and laughing at my little marching boy. He was sooooooo happy. After this video was taken, he broke into a full on run/prance along side the royal army and kept at it for seriously the longest time. Kind of a ridiculous distance considering that at nine months he is technically still a baby. There were two different ladies who thought it was so funny that one took his picture and another starting filming him, adding more evidence to my theory that he is the cutest thing on the planet.

The reason for the royal army parade was that the Swedish crown princess got married today. Above is my futile attempt at catching the wedding procession on camera. Go here if you actually care to see pics. The last royal wedding was in like the 70's or something, so it was a Big Deal to the swedes. I don't know what the newspapers are going to do with themselves now that it is over. Kinda cool and interesting, also kinda odd and pompous.

p.s. We do not spike Small's hair on purpose. It's just that his hair is so sparse that we have to put sunscreen on his head (he takes off his hat) and it just ends up working like hair gel.

Embassy Soccer Tournament

2010-06-11T17:01:00.002-04:00

Last weekend Rob organized a "World Cup" soccer tournament between a bunch of different embassies in Stockholm. It seemed like everyone had a really good time, which I guess means it was a success! If we measure the success of the tournament by the amount of fun that Smalls had, then it was an uber-success. I think the monkey had the time of his life. It was big goofy grins the whole time. He quite likes to watch his dad play soccer! Of course after getting all these cute pictures, I then realized that he had a piece of pasta stuck on his face the whole time. I guess that just makes it tell the true story of the day.

You Gonna Eat That?

2010-06-09T07:30:00.001-04:00

Please consider your own eating habits before you judge my upcoming statement in the same category as nose-picking and armpit-smelling.

I eat my child's baby food.

And I like it.

And I am considering keeping on with this habit even when Michael outgrows it. Because I have finally found a convenient enough way to eat my vegetables. The beautiful thing about baby fruit and vegetables is that it is 100% fruit or vegetable. If I buy carrots, the ingredients are.........................wait for it........................................carrots. Not carrots and salt and dehydratedmaltodextrinizedcoagulatedsulfer. If I buy prunes it is prunes, not prunes and sugar and heavy syrup. AND did you know that baby food pureed prunes are good and not at all gross and hard to swallow like real prunes? And they are especially good when mixed with Totally Natural, No-Added-Sugar-Or-Anything Yogurt. Yuck, right? That's what I thought. But it's good. I swear.

I went to a slight bit of trouble to make some homemade pureed green beans for Biggie Smalls a few days ago, but I don't think he liked the texture. And the beauty of all this is that instead of feeling kinda bummed about wasted effort and wasted food, I'm like ALL RIGHT! Healthy snack for mom. I saved a bunch of old baby food jars and froze a big supply of what I made, so I've got all these healthy little green bean shots (along with the pureed prunes, carrots, peas, and lentils I've made for Smalls but am stealing for myself) ready to roll for snacks now. I am aware that microwaving some frozen green beans is about just as easy, but for some reason I just never would do that. And it would require more chewing. I'm talking LAZY nutrition here.

Although that's not really the whole truth. It's probably only like a small little baby-sized pie slice (yum!) of the truth. The real impetus for my baby-food eating habit is this: I want what you are eating. Especially if you are a kid, for some strange reason. I am not sure about the psychological implications of that. But have you ever seen a 3-year-old eating Cheeze-Itz? And not totally hoped that they would get distracted by a fly or something and left their little Cheeze-Itz cup unattended? But you could have a whole box of them at home and not give it a second glance. Or chicken nuggets. I never want to eat a chicken nugget... until I see it on the plate of a child, that is.

My favorite of Biggie Small's food is this stuff here called Majs-Vällning. I'm guessing maybe there is an equivalent in the States, but I don't know what it is. It's like rice cereal (blah), but yummy corn-based deliciousness instead. YUM. I always mix up extra so that I can steal some bites as I feed him. Bite for you, bite for me. Fun fact - we actually first got this corn slop stuff as dog-food for Chewy (the breeder's used it to wean the puppies) and had half the bag left over. So you could say Michael's first food was dog-food.*

I wonder if I will feel the same when I am no longer crazy-hungry breastfeeding woman???

Also, this makes me feel a little safer about getting older, in case I make it to 92 and have to go on one of those geriatric diets. It's a good card to have in my pocket.

*Grandma alert: this stuff is, in fact, sold in the baby food section of the store, not the pet section. I promise.

Asleep on the Job

2010-06-07T18:00:00.000-04:00

He often likes to crawl around in the middle of his naps, but then gets tuckered out right in the middle of it. Invariably it involves a big pool of drool.
Dena, remember how you taught your dog Annie to do that command "Show me your bum"? Cutest dog trick ever, by the way. When I find Michael like this, I always think of your sweet dog Annie performing that trick.

My Shadow

2010-05-28T01:41:00.004-04:00

I saw my shadow at the mall today.
She was pushing a stroller, but there was no baby in it. She was carrying the baby while the stroller just served the purpose of a cumbersome accessory. She made my day.
I am a baby-carrying, empty-stroller-pushing mom the majority of the time I go out with The Smalls. We pass a lot of strollers every time we go out, and almost invariably there is a child in it. Strange how that works. As I juggle holding my baby while pushing his empty stroller, sometimes I point out the other baby-carrying strollers to him and how cool the other babies look hanging out in their strollers. But he's just like, so what? I'm not into being trendy and don't you go try putting me down in that thing again or I will sound the alarm.
I see those baby-carrying strollers everywhere and I wonder what that must be like.
Bless that woman in the mall with her non-trendy baby! For some reason it felt really, really nice to see another woman with the same breed of baby as mine. I wanted to invite her to lunch to talk things over. Instead we just smiled.

Our Little Snot-Nose Crawling

2010-05-25T06:45:00.001-04:00

This is Michael's favorite video. Of himself, of course. He gets really happy when he sees himself get really happy.

Duathlon

2010-05-23T15:50:00.002-04:00

So I competed in my first duathlon yesterday. Basically, a triathlon for people who aren't swimmers. Run-bike-run instead of swim-bike-run.

It was fun, although about 100 times less fun than I used to have road racing and mountain biking racing. But, as a trade off, it was also about 100 times safer. So I guess I consider that sort of trade-off more at this point in my life when I have a baby who relies on me every minute of every day. It was also almost within spitting distance of my house, which was great because I could be at home nursing Michael one minute and on the course warming up literally the very next. Nursing always makes me super relaxed (or drowsy to be more exact) and that was a nice way to ensure a really calm start. Although then I found it difficult to really find a very competitive spirit. I wonder if I will ever feel that competitive drive and passion again like I used to. I mean, it was fun, I tried, and I did well, but I just couldn't get myself to care too much. I was hoping that a race would magically fire me up again.
Afterwards, we met up with some friends at their parent's summer house in the archipelago. It was beautiful! Rob reveled in the chance to put some more time on his paddle board, as well as had the chance to try out wind surfing (verdict: tricky!).

Biggie got The Memo about Mother's Day!!!

2010-05-09T10:31:00.002-04:00

It's a Mother's Day miracle.
All I wanted for Mother's Day was to sleep in a little bit, and somehow, Michael got the memo.
6:38 am!!!
Hey, it's all relative. He's been waking up between 4:58 and 5:52 (the exact time you see on the clock really gets etched into your mind when you are forced out of bed this early) for the last couple weeks, so 6:38 was pretty big.

But wait! There's more!

Then, as we were staring out the window together (another trick that soothes him), we had a magical moment as a mother and baby deer walked right by us through our yard and stopped to graze together in our foliage.

Then when we went to church, I didn't have to take him out ONE SINGLE TIME! He was so good, in fact, that I listened to every single speaker and actually got something out of it.

Then he ate by far the most he has ever eaten, without even requiring me to employ any trickery (like, Here! Play with this toy! Then as soon as he opens for the toy shove my spoon in.)

Also, today he gave me a happiness-to-whining ratio that is off the charts high for this boy.

But wait! I haven't even gotten to the best part yet.
Drumroll please....

HE SAID MOM TODAY!!!
And MAMA and MA'AM and mmmmmmmmm and muhbah and all sorts of other jibberish, but he clearly said mom and mama several times. He has never even made the "m" sound before today.

The bottom line is this:
My son, who is still only 7 months old, made my Mother's Day feel like something that could qualify for one of those tiny little Hallmark books that are way over-priced and no one really reads even though they seem like a cute token gift.

Finally, to my mom and mother-in-law: here is a little video of Michael that I put together for you. I know it is a little self-serving, but I hope you both like it too! (Since putting this together a couple weeks ago, he has learned to crawl...so I guess that means I need to make another one soon.)

Helsinki

2010-05-05T15:22:00.001-04:00

Smalls and I decided to party it up while Rob was away for business and went to visit the grandparents in Helsinki. As illustrated by the way Michael is hanging upside-down*, it's hard-core partying when my parents are involved.

We saw cool buildings, ate kabob, visited their mission office, and watched the city fill up with drunken madness as the Finns celebrated May Day. Smalls saw cool new walls he could scratch, ate his fingers, visited two older people who smiled at him a lot, and watched as the city filled up with shiny metalic balloons as the Finns celebrated May Day. It was like the best luck of his life when he was staring at a big cluster of balloons a street vendor was holding, and then a strong gust of wind caught them all and blew them right into the stroller, inches from his face where he could just reach out and touch them. Even Mother Nature doesn't want to hear Master Smalls whine.

*This seems to disable Michael's whining mechanism. Since this discovery he spends a lot of time upside-down. It's good for healthy brain development.

2010-04-25T15:23:00.014-04:00

Spa Weekend
This weekend I left Smalls for the first night of my life (!!!) and took a short trip up north to a little town called Jävle with a bunch of girls from my church (I help with the Young Women group) for a spa weekend. It was a great opportunity to explore more of Sweden and dig my roots a little deeper into the culture. I imagine that if I were asked to chaperone a bunch of teenage girls for a sleepover that required a two hour drive, a much too late bedtime, a need to pump every time I would have fed Michael otherwise, with a group of people that I virtually knew no one - I probably wouldn't have been too excited about it if it were last year. But at the moment I am all about seizing opportunities to explore and expand and experience, so I was excited.
Also, I am semi-slow and thought that we were actually staying at a spa and having actual spa personnel treating us, all for no more than what amounts to about $13. Sometimes I honestly have this problem of believing what I hope to be true instead of objectively critiquing my ideas. All I knew about the activity was what I saw on the flyer that said things like "Spa Weekend" and "top-to-toe treatment" and "massage" and "sauna". I want to say that I take things more literally for some reason when they are written in Swedish, but that isn't really a legit explanation because I've been prone to these mistakes of judgement plenty of other times as well. Like the time I went to Mexico with a bunch of college friends and somehow got the notion that we were going to some place where the dolphins were so friendly and abundant that you could just jump on and hitch a ride. Yes, I still earned a degree from BYU and taught the youth of our nation for the last 8 years.
But back to my topic.
It was basically a big slumber party at someone's house with a spa theme. Fun idea, but I was a little sad when we got to the address, it was a house, and I realized that my $13 was paying for food and not some crazy ridiculously reduced price for a full day of hanging out in a robe while being fanned with palm leaves, fed grapes, and my body being worked over.
That would have been cool.
Once I got over my ridiculous notion of what I thought it was going to be, I quite enjoyed the experience. I got out of it a chance to...
...stay at a really cool huge old Swedish house that was built in the middle of the 1800's.
...make a good leap with my swedish.
...learn that even way out here, people still turn to tacos and spaghetti (not together) to feed big groups.
...try ketchup on top of my spaghetti - something Swedes love (and they say Italiens HATE them for this transgression!)
...listen to ghost stories in Swedish and learn some different nuances of their language
...learn that even out here they sing kumbaya, teenagers write on their arms, and girls will be girls in all the same ways as I grew up with.
...discover that sauna treatment can practically cure pollen-induced allergies! I had allergies so bad for a few days that besides the sniffles and headache, my sinuses were so swollen even my face hurt. I almost let it stop me from going. Then we did the thing where you go back and forth from the sauna to jumping in the freezing cold river (See the top picture. Yes, there is still snow on the ground! Now you understand the expression on the girl's face in the second picture!) over and over, and I immediately felt a million times better. Even now a day later I still feel better than before. The sniffles are back, but my head does not hurt at all any more. (Rob and I have become HUGE fans of the sauna since moving here and use ours all the time for the healing effect it seems to work over our body and mind.)

2010-04-17T08:43:00.003-04:00

The Hair
The hair problem continues.
No matter what we do, it always ends up like this.
I guess I could do as my friend Bonnie suggested and just shave it all off, but in the end, I think we actually kind of like laughing at his bad hair. The kid gives us enough grief, the least he can do is allow us a few laughs at his expense.
Also, I think he is hinting for a trip to Six Flags.

2010-04-07T07:04:00.002-04:00

Back in The Saddle Again
Tonight I went to my first group ride in one and a half years. It was wonderfully motivating and wonderfully discouraging, all at once.

I've been looking for information about group rides, races, etc. since before even coming to Sweden. But all my internet searches seemed rather fruitless and it had quite the demotivating effect on my desire to start training again postpartum. If there were no races and no group rides, then what was the urgency of getting fast again?

Then last night, miraculously I finally uncovered the secret website with information on a nearby group ride for tonight. Suddenly I wished I'd been training all winter. But I figured "oh, well." Nothing will motivate me like a good old fashioned lashing and getting spit out the back. So I decided to show up anyway.

I started by dusting off my old race bike. Literally, I dusted it off. It has not been ridden outdoors since the early-pregnancy-era. (I had to ride my CX bike since the aggressive position of my road bike was impossible while preggo.) After riding only my cross bike on low tire pressure for so long, I could hardly believe how fast and responsive my old race bike felt under my body. Ahh, Spanky 2.0. So nice to reunite with an old friend.

I then choose my riding gear as thoughtfully as if I was going out on a first date. Knowing I would show up as A. the new one, B. the girl, and C. the foreigner who speaks crappy Swedish, I didn't want to add "D. the one without style" to that list.

Cyclists are a peculiar little bunch with all sorts of funny little codes that take years of riding to crack, and style is a Big Deal. Unfortunately, I am not a very stylish person so it took some learning and then a lot of hard work to make up for some of my lack of style by being fast. I am not fast anymore, ergo I need more style. I think that part of cyclists hang up with style is that if you have the right style, the coordinating kit, good bike, etc., then people assume you are experienced and know what you are doing. Which is a really, really important thing when you draft and ride a breath away from each other and a dumb maneuver by a rookie could bring you crashing down.

Even so much as the wrong pair of socks could mean that people will be anxious to ride too close to you and you will be decidedly less welcome as a newbie to a group ride.

So I was a little hung up on the fact that at the end of my last season I had two crashes that cracked two of my fancy, stylish, coordinating helmets, and all I was left with was a lame blue helmet. It didn't coordinate with my choice of kit or my bike or shoes or anything. Tonight I cared deeply. It's hard enough finding your place as a new mom in a foreign country. I feel like, SHOOT, I'm slow and don't know anyone. Can't I at least show up looking good?

So, the ride time comes and I rolled on up to the group of about 30 guys waiting at the round-about. I am the only female. I am new. I feel like all eyes are on me as I park myself among them. Not much chatter going on. Swedes are not a gregarious population. No one says anything to me but I can feel myself being sized up, eyes darting my direction. My real feeling is one of awkwardness, but my brain tells me to hold my head up, act confident, and make the first move. I find someone who looks stylish. (I soon realize that my radar sent me correctly to the leader of the group ride. See. Style matters.) I decide to introduce myself to him, but my general awkwardness is compounded to the 10th degree multiplied by a gazillion when I try to speak in Swedish. I started what I meant to be a much longer statement/conversation with "I am new". Here's how it went.

Me: Jag är ny...(pausing to think about how to say my next thought)...
Stylish guy: (looking a bit confused) Hey, Jagärny (holds out his hand). I'm Fredrik.

I was so flustered that I choose not to explain that my name is not Jagärny, mostly because that would require more talking on my part. And maybe it was better that he thought I had a horrendously strange name than that I sounded so bad he couldn't tell what I actually meant to say. After another awkward pause as I contemplated how to proceed (keep on with the crappy Swedish or revert to English already?), I asked in more broken Swedish what to expect from the ride. The dumb thing is that like most Swedes, he speaks pretty much perfect English. I'm not sure what exactly I am accomplishing by my efforts. Anyway, the upside is that he talked for quite some time in Swedish and I understood it all without having to say much more. Small victory.

Next dilemma: I am new, I am the only female, I am slow, I have an unstylish, non-coordinating helmet. Do I alleviate their fears about riding next to me by slipping in that I used to race pro back in the States? But then I am one of those people. Ugh. If I was still pro, I would not have to mention a thing. You are fast and that speaks for itself.

I took the lame route. I slipped it in. I felt stupid enough already. Even if I was new and female and stupid-sounding and slow, I at least wanted them to know that I knew how to pace-line and I wouldn't crash them out. But mentioning that meant a need for including the I-just-had-a-baby excuse for why I am slow now. Great. "I used-to-be" and "here's-my-lame-excuse" both spewed out like vomit within 5 minutes of joining the group. Is this what I have become? Ugh.

We rode. We pace-lined. I took a few pulls. I got tired fast. I lasted 25 minutes. Wow.

It is what it is. But I hate HATE HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE it when I can't join the boys and show them that I am every bit as good or better.

Because I know what they were thinking about the random girl with the special-ed helmet and I want with all my heart for them to be wrong.

But I knew they would be right this time.

Do I show up again next week?

2010-04-07T06:14:00.008-04:00

Andrea Visits
Last week Michael and I got to take another break from our daily routine to play tourists with Rob's sister Andrea. It was so much fun to have her here and to have a good reason to explore more parts of Sweden that I haven't gotten to yet. And it never hurts to have an extra person around to give Michael the constant attention he craves. Man, how it would be nice to have some family near by!

2010-03-26T08:32:00.003-04:00

Våffeldagen
Yesterday we celebrated Våffeldag in Sweden. It means Waffle Day. We ate waffles in the morning and again at night. Our kind of holiday.
The last holiday we celebrated previous to Våffeldag was Fettisdag. Fettisdag means Fat Tuesday, and it is a day when everyone eats these types of pastry called semlor (pictured). Also our kind of holiday.
The next upcoming holiday is obviously Easter, and in Sweden everyone gets Good Friday off of work, as well as the next Monday. One of the many beauties of having a foreign post with the government is that not only does Rob get all of the US holidays off from work, but he also gets the Swedish holidays as well.
Cheers to new holidays!

2010-03-24T16:52:00.005-04:00

Spain
We recently took advantage of our proximity to all sorts of great European destinations and headed out to Barcelona for a few days. Here are a few random notes about the trip:

- I Love to explore new places through running and biking. The highlight of the trip was long meandering runs through interesting streets, past cool buildings, markets, monuments, the beach, etc. - SANS STROLLER!!! Yay! Rob and I played tag team with the Smalls at times so that we could each enjoy some pure, unadulterated freedom.

- One of the times I did go running with the stroller, I accidentally made a bit of a scene. Smalls and I like to play this game I made up called "Runaway Baby". Here's how you play: when you get to a downhill, you take your hands off the stroller and cry out "Runaway baby! Runaway baby!" in a way that amuses your kid while you chase right behind. Or you just yell "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah" as you run behind. Ideally, you really should do one of those two things in an exaggerated way that shows passersby that you are just having a good time. More ideally, you only do it when there is no one around to witness. I messed up the game and forgot those rules and out of no where a Spaniard comes sprinting towards us, great distress written all over his face, trying to save this seeming runaway stroller.
Ooops. I hope he got a laugh out of it. No authorities came knocking on my hotel door later that night, so I guess all's well that ends well.

- Barcelona does not stink nearly as bad in March as it does in July. Seriously. Don't go in July.

- Where ever we travel in the world, Rob always finds an Adidas shop that he has to go into. He has a radar. I am not sure what the appeal is when we just went to the same store in Stockholm. Then he called me out on my strange need to go into that cheap, full-of-random-crap-store you also find in every city. But you just never know what you might find! We'll call it even.

- We got to visit with some old friends from our Malibu ward, the Schroder kids and Amanda Carr. Rob used to be their Sunday school teacher and I used to tutor math to Amanda. It was fun to see them so grown up. Something charming about meeting up with old friends in a foreign land several years later. It was cool to see that Amanda is studying to be a nurse. I felt so proud of her. It made me feel a little wistful that I could have ever taught at a single high school long enough to have old students come back years later and see what they'd made of themselves. I always used to think that when teachers said to come back and visit that they were just being polite, but now I understand differently. Seeing the kids in Spain made me think of all sorts of students who I grew to love and would enjoy seeing as adults. (I actually quite miss teaching!)

- Restaurants in Spain don't open till 8:00 at night. Which is funny because in Sweden pretty much everything but the dinner restaurants are closed down by 8:00, or way before. I think these two countries are about as polar opposite as you can get when it comes to social things. I've also become so accostume to Swedes quiet disposition that the outgoing, gregarious nature of the Spaniards kept catching me off guard.

- Now that I am finally thinking in Swedish, all of my Spanish has gone to pot. Too bad. I had to think surprisingly hard even just to come up with "gracias".

-Vacation is fun.

2010-03-22T16:06:00.002-04:00

Traditions

I got a sweet Giants jersey for my first Christmas. It even had my name on the back. I thought that would be a good tradition for Michael: he gets a new jersey every Christmas. Here is the first of many jerseys, although I don't think we will put Biggie Smalls on the back of all of them.

2010-03-12T12:50:00.003-05:00

Hey, Michael Robert here, aka Biggie Smalls, or just "the Smalls" if you want.

So today was my half-year birthday. I am now officially "half." I thought I would get some presents or cake or something. Instead I got some shots and peas. Lame. Maybe my one year birthday will be better.

Here are some things I like:
- playing in the bath
- seeing my grandparents (either having them visit or going to see them in Finland)
- things that are shiny
- whatever mom and dad have in their hands (but usually they won't let me take it.)
- being naked
- The Giants
- wind in my face
- watching sports (for 5-10 minutes)
- walking around in the baby bjorn
- the Muppets
- jumping
- rolling over
- seeing myself in the mirror when I am happy (that kid makes me laugh)

Things I don't like:
- wearing clothes
- sleeping in
- naps
- The Dodgers
- sitting still
- doing anything for more then 5-10 minutes
- being buckled into my car seat
- seeing myself in the mirror when I am mad (that kid makes me even angrier)

That's all folks. (I like watching Looney Tunes, too.)

2010-03-11T06:24:00.002-05:00

Grandparents Visit
I decided it would be fun to learn how to use iMovie on the Mac, and it was. So here are some shots from last week when Grandma and Grandpa Candrian came to dote on their grandson. He sure loved their undying attention, and I sure loved the freedom to go ski every day and get a few nights out with my man!

2010-03-09T15:44:00.002-05:00

The Steam Roller
Michael is learning to travel quite efficiently by rolling. Can't crawl yet, but he found a way to get around anyway! He is such a determined little guy. I see so much of myself in his little personality. That realization is a little frightening. But it helps me understand him.

A couple weeks ago I had many sleepless nights because every time he would come into a light sleep and normally just go right on with sleeping, he decided instead that it would be a great time to practice his rolling trick and inevitably get stuck in the most awkward* positions in the corner of his crib. Of course he would start crying for me, so I would go in, roll him back over to the other end of his crib, and then before I could even get back to my bed he would be grunting again for another rescue. One night I had to resign to just sit on the chair next to his crib for an hour from 3am - 4am while he practiced his trick and got stuck over and over and over and over....
*I think awkward falls under the category of words that are self-descriptive.
And now that I am on the topic, here is a riddle to make yourself mad with: Does the word non-self-descriptive fall under the category of words that are self-descriptive, or non-self-descriptive?

2010-03-03T11:50:00.003-05:00

Happy Birthday Mahn!
One year older, but not a day more grown up (since the day he turned 12).

2010-02-22T06:57:00.004-05:00

Watch This
and just try telling me it doesn't make you want to get out and ride your bike.
I know I just wrote a post about how much I love xc skiing, but honestly, I am dying to go on an epic bike ride like this. I always miss California the most in February. Especially right now when I live in a place where the amount of sunlight I have seen over the last few months couldn't even be counted in days, rather in hours and minutes. It has a real dampening effect on energy and motivation. But this video just got me all stoked.

Thule "Bike Spot" from Nathan Avila on Vimeo.

To all of my biking friends, please check out this Aussie cycling blog (where I saw the above video). It is my new favorite website. You will like it or your money back, guaranteed.

2010-02-21T16:34:00.004-05:00

Random Stuff I Feel Like Writing

Today I gave a 10 minute talk in church, in Swedish. It felt good to use what I have been trying to learn. Although I resorted to my least favorite method of speaking, which is reading from a script I wrote ahead of time. A pre-scripted spontaneous joke is sort of an oxymoron, you know?

At first I tried to write it in Swedish, but that totally stifled all creative thinking. So I cheated and wrote it in english and then used translate.google.com (amazing!) to make the translation process faster and more accurate. Even though I explained that before I began my talk, I don't think very many people, if any, realize what that website is and so now everyone I go to church with thinks that I am way smarter and better at Swedish than I actually am.
Normally I totally wouldn't mind people thinking I am smarter than I am, except that now they expect me to understand much more of what they are saying to me than I actually do. Just because I can read Swedish doesn't stop it from still sounding like jibberish when I hear it.

I got to throw in a great quote:
"Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow." - Mark Twain

Michael was sitting in the pews making squaks, farting noises and blowing raspberries the whole time. At one point I made the mistake of looking at him being a total clown and making a ruckus, and I broke mid-sentence with the beginnings of laughter before I regathered myself. He is such a goof.

In other uninteresting news about my progress with the Swedish language, a couple months ago I actually read an entire book in Swedish. Matilda, by Roald Dahl. I think I read it as a kid in like 6th grade or something. It was really fun to read again and totally enjoyable as an adult. And I don't think I have felt that sort of pride for reading a book since I was in like 2nd grade. I was beaming when I finished. I wanted to make a book chart for myself so I could put a gold star on it.

It has been a really, really long winter here. So dark and cold. Shoveling snow off our driveway is a harder and harder task every time, because the stack on the side is becoming a pretty high fortress to throw the snow over. All winter I think there have only been a total of two sweltering hot days when the temps reached a high of 33 degrees - so nothing ever melts off.

One thing I took up to make the winter more fun is cross country skiing. I LOVE it! There are groomed trails all over our island, but the ice is thick enough that I've even been out skiing over the ocean. I've also gotten out before the snow plow came and skied literally right out of my driveway. This is honestly a dream come true for me. One day I went to a local spot with good groomed tracks and decided I was going to have fun and "race" some people. They did not know they were racing me, the poor fools. It was some of the most fun I've had since pre-pregnancy. I really really need to find a real race to enter sometime soon, even though I will totally get my butt kicked once anyone is actually aware of the fact that they are in a race.

Rob is pretty amazing, getting through the long winter by refusing to wuss out on his bike to work goal even on the most blizzardy of days. He had studded tires for the ice, but it hardly helps when it is fresh snow. He has slipped, but then he landed in a nice soft pillow of deep snow so that it was no harm and actually sort of fun. He is a strange mix of hot-and-sweaty yet cold-as-ice when he comes in the door at night, with grime all over. What a man!

Here is one of Biggie Small's favorite activities this month:

2010-02-13T16:23:00.002-05:00

What.

2010-02-09T07:44:00.005-05:00

Our time with the Smalls is spent 50% having fun, and the other 50% poking fun.
Poor kid and his hair. Maybe if he was born in 1988 then his rat tail would have made him the most stylish baby on the block.

2010-02-08T15:23:00.002-05:00

Overdue post:

Looks like we are overdue on a post. I'm sure everyone was waiting for pictures of Smalls, so I will give you an update on my commute:

17 days out of a possible 21 so far this year. Eh...not too bad, but not perfect.

Pictures of Smalls to come...

2010-01-19T06:57:00.011-05:00

My Stinky, Stinkin Dog

I drove all day yesterday to take Chewy back to the breeder in Kil. I've cried so much over the last several days. This morning it was because Michael spit up all over the floor and Chewy wasn't there to happily lick it up. But just a week and a half ago it was because I could hardly make it through the day because the puppy and the baby were too much to handle at the same time, particularly on days when Rob had an extra meeting after work and didn't get home until quite late. It was non-stop neediness between the two of them and it was toasting me. I hardly had time to take care of myself, let alone household chores and dinner and shopping and all that frau-type of stuff. Personal time, work-outs, etc., all had to go out the door. I was sinking.

Then Rob told me that if it was too much then he would let me return Chewy. I was totally overwhelmed and knowing I had that option open provided some relief. But then as soon as I decided that that was what we needed to do, I couldn't accept that either. Even though Chewy was stretching my limits, I quite liked him. I'm officially one of "those" people who becomes way over-attached to a dog. (I remember as a kid having a friend who took a day off of school because his dog died and I thought it was a little silly and overly dramatic. I totally didn't get it.)

Somewhere in the multiple walks a day, many bathroom trips in the freezing cold while I stood outside waiting for him to go so that I could then reward him, playing together, training sessions, cuddle time, attention, enduring his barking/whining at times when I had to put him in the crate, correcting his bad house behavior and rewarding the good, chasing him down and lodging open his mouth to retrieve things he had stolen, play dates with other dogs, laughing at the many "Oh, Chewy" moments (like finding him with Michael's binky in his mouth - in the correct sucking position and all!), getting my face licked and ears tickled till I was laughing hysterically, the tilted-head-gaze he’d give me while begging for food in the kitchen, ruffling my hands through his beautiful fluffy coat, watching him progress as he learned to follow me, obey commands and take risks (like finally climb the stairs) - I fell in love with him.

But taking care of him was clearly stretching our limits too far, as I felt especially in those moments when Michael and Chewy both begged immediate attention at the same time. What do you do when your puppy steals your baby's beanie that was hand-stitched for him by his aunt, right as you are in the middle of nursing your son? Or when your baby starts whaling and needs to go down for a nap right as your puppy is about to pee in the house if you don't take him out that very second (in sub-freezing temps outside so you can't bring the baby along)? Or when you need to pick up your dog at the same time you are wearing your baby in the Baby-Bjorn? Or when you are trying to push the stroller as you teach your puppy to walk on a leash, but he keeps tangling himself up with the stroller. And every time you have to stop for him, your baby starts crying because he's annoyed that you stopped moving. Those are just a few of many, many examples I could point out.

Well, you work it out. And you even enjoy the chaos in a way. It can be done, just like the headstrong me knew it could be done before we ever picked up Chewy. But you get worn really thin. Too thin for it to make sense. But then you think of how much you love your dog, and you change your mind again - it does too make sense! It is hard, but you can work it out. And it will all be worth it a few years down the line when you have a well-trained, calm, adult dog who you love and your son loves and your husband loves. But then you realize that then you will then have another child, and how could you possibly keep up with your exercise and training routine for that dog when you have another newborn baby? You can't. So you are back at square one. You can't keep this dog. The Portuguese Water Dog is an energetic, smart, working-dog and requires hours of time every day for exercise and mental stimulation. So you have to take him back. Which makes you feel much too sad and so you tell yourself again that you can do this, and so the cycle continues over and over like that 100 times again until you realize you have to just make the hard decision and go through with it.

I tried so hard this week to prove that I could make it work with Chewy, that I fell really hard for him. I didn't want to let our dream of Chewy die, so I put my whole heart into it. Just dove in head first. Which caused him to leave an even bigger hole in my heart, but at least I know I gave it my all.

It helped when I got home after driving all day to bring Chewy back and Rob had just spent his first whole day taking care of Biggie Smalls alone, and he told me that it was exhausting and he couldn't believe I'd been doing that with him and Chewy all these days. It brought him clarity that we'd definitely made the right choice.

I still only narrowly stopped myself from turning around and driving back home with Chewy as I was half way to the breeder's house. I love that stinky dog. Although it is nice to just sit here and have a free moment to type this up, I miss him. I wanted to come home and take him for a walk. But I did not want to go for a walk by myself. It is not the same.

Chewy introduced me to a lot of my neighbors, and helped me make some new friends. One acquaintance came over one day to teach me some things about training him, and I found out that she is a great person who I think will become a good friend. My neighbor and her eleven-year-old son loooooved Chewy and came over often to help me out by taking him for walks. They are good people and new friends. The poor boy was so sad to see Chewy go - he had come to like Chewy even better than his own dog!

One night when I was out with Chewy and fresh snow had fallen, I bent down to play with Chewy and noticed the most beautiful, perfect flakes I'd ever seen. The snow crystals were so perfect and distinct I couldn't believe they were real. You always do the snowflake cut out craft thing as a kid, but I'd never seen them like that before. And I thought about how I wouldn't have seen that if it weren't for Chewy and needing to take him on that evening walk. He made Rob get out of the house for a walk every morning, and he made me and the Smalls get out for a walk every afternoon, and then me again every night. And I loved it. It is good to have a reason to get outside lots every day in the long dark Swedish winter, no matter what. But it's just not the same without a pooch.

When Chewy was just our little fantasy pooch, Rob and I used to argue over who he was going to claim as his Alpha master. At least we've put that debate to rest. He was my boy. Before he was brave enough to climb the stairs, he would sit at the base and whimper when I went up and then just wait there until I came back down.

Ooooooh, Chewy. Why do I miss you so much when you were seriously such a pain in the butt?