Category Archives: Children

At least he’s not a vegetarian *

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Poor Sophie.

* Please note, I don’t have anything against vegetarians. In fact, I was one myself for about a decade. But then I met a Norwegian. And that was the end of that.

Mission impossible

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Mission for the day:
1. Leave house
2. Buy new jeans
3. Buy sugar

Plan of attack:
12.00     Wake, feed and dress PC
12.15     Depart home
14.00     Return home

 What happened in reality:

11.30     Baby starts stirring in bed. Mommy gets herself dressed and food packed so everyone’s ready to leave.

11.40     Baby wakes, is dressed for the day and hangs out a bit with Mommy.

11.45     Baby spits up apple-avocado breakfast on his clothes.

Oh s***… Maybe damage isn’t too bad. I think we can get away without another costume change.

12.00     Baby gets his bottle (see here for why we’re not breastfeeding anymore).
Baby doesn’t burp, decides instead to vomit all over Mommy.

Oh s***. Can’t go out like this. Mommy rushes to change clothes while PC chills in the crib.

12.05     Mommy is dressed and ready to go again. 
Baby is dressed in hat and coat (amid piercing screams on his part).
Unmistakable smell of dirty diaper-ness reaches Mommy’s nose.

Oh s***. Can’t take him out like this. Might as well change his apple-avocado pants while we’re at it.

12.10     Diaper off but trashcan out of liners. 
Mommy replaces liners while Baby chills on the changing table (diaper-less)
Mommy feels drops of liquid on her head, looks up, receives well-placed shot of baby urine in the eyeball.

Oh s***. Are you kidding me?!?!

12.15     Mommy dries off face, hair and changing table, takes a deep breath and wishes Pappa weren’t out of town.

12.20     Diaper pail re-lined, Baby re-diapered and re-dressed in non-apple-avocado-covered pants.

12.30     Assorted keys, phones, wallets, food containers, bottles, burp cloths and other baby paraphernalia gathered. We’re out the door.

Oh s***. It’s raining. How did I not know that?!

12.32     Family returns inside for stroller’s rain cover. Cover attached and we’re out the door again.

Final result:
Comedy of errors continued throughout the day, leaving mother and son to return home at 14.00 without either the jeans or the sugar in hand.

Six months and counting!

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Okay great big world, today’s my half-birthday and it’s time for another status check. If you missed my first update at one month old, check it out here. So much has happened since then!

  • Eating – check!… I’ve rapidly expanded my repertoire to include apples, bananas, apricots, avocados, carrots, sweet potatoes, butternut squash, beets and – 
    my most favorite of all – pears!     (Editor’s note – he’s not kidding folks, pears really are his favorite and he screams bloody murder if mommy gets distracted and doesn’t shovel them in fast enough.)
  • Pooping – check!… I continue to set records in the Dirty Diaper category of baby-hood. What goes in must come out, much to mommy’s nasal dismay.
  • Sleeping – check!… Mommy keeps thanking someone named Jesus for my sleeping from 6pm-7am every night. I’m not sure what he’s got to do with it since I’m doing all the work. 
  • Playing – check!… I’m discovering some new friends in the neighborhood and have a not-so-secret crush on this little brown-eyed girl named Nina. What a hottie!
  • Ut på tur – check!… I love my trips in the great outdoors with mommy. I hear we’re moving to a warmer climate soon, just in time to get rid of these annoying hats and put my baby swimming skills to the test!
  • Entertaining – check!… I am a Svendsen after all, and just like my parents I love me a glass of prosecco. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, so they say…. 
  • Being adorable – double check!… I’ve inherited mommy’s giggle and love to put it on display for everyone’s amusement.

Coming attractions include sitting up, continued exploration of my toes, stage two foods and higher degrees of baby babbling.

Happy half-birthday to me!

The end is near

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Gentlemen, beware. This post involves talk of The Boobs. You have been warned.

I always planned to breastfeed Per Christian until he was nine months old. This may sound like an arbitrary number, but it was based upon the fact that we’ll be traveling to the US for the holidays this year and I wanted to easily feed him on the plane. I don’t know all the nutritional facts about breastfeeding for nine months, but I do know what it’s like to have a fussy baby on a long-haul flight. I wanted to avoid that as much as possible.

But the fact is – I just don’t have it. For whatever reason, my supply is about done. I’ve exhausted myself with pumping sessions to try and keep it up, but I’m about to forfeit the game. My mind is going numb with the rhythmic whirring sound of the electric pump; my wrists are developing carpel tunnel from the manual version. And it’s almost embarrassing to admit how skilled I’ve become at one-handed Tetris on the iPhone. I have always despised pumping with a heated passion, it’s like being at the dairy farm and having your worth measured by how many ounces you produce each day.

I have no idea how other mothers manage. Is it all worth it, I wonder? (FYI – I know I’m not the only one out there with such fierce pumping-fueled hatred. See here, here and here for more of the same.)

I’ve somehow managed to compare the end of breastfeeding in my head to those protesters’ signs outside the Capitol building. They all predict doomsday around the corner and your inevitable persecution for being such an unworthy sloth.

Save yourself!
The End is near!
Have you prayed lately?

I know this pressure and sense of judgement is only in my head. I know breastfeeding for six months is a great accomplishment. I know my son is well-fed and happy (his heavily-dimpled arms and legs are proof of that). But still I can’t help feeling a little nostalgic already. This stage of Per Christian’s baby-hood is coming to a close and it went by so quickly. Did I appreciate it enough while it was here? Should I have spent a little less time complaining and more time enjoying the moment?

It’s sad to know that our days are numbered and we’ll never get these moments back. On the other hand, I’m so, so thrilled to be moving off the dairy farm and getting rid of that evil pump. Far thee well, you squeezer of flesh and crusher of nipples! 

Monkey see, monkey do

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Per Christian is getting to that stage of baby-hood where he’s starting to interact a bit more and play with his parents. Which is good, because mommy is home with him all day and needs a playmate.

I mean, really, who wouldn’t want to play with this little monkey?

In typical monkey fashion, he’s also starting to imitate what he sees and hears around him. This is really helpful when we’re trying to teach him a new skill like opening his mouth for food (insert mental image of mommy with her mouth wide open, hovering over the high chair with a spoon full of applesauce…) and also when we’re trying to distract him from some of his least favorite activities (i.e. anything that involves shirts over the head or arms going into sleeve holes).

His favorite sounds seem to be either screeching at the top of his lungs (see above reference about least favorite activities) or else smacking his lips together and clicking his tongue. The latter has had me thinking lately – where did he pick that up? Is he saying he’s hungry and wants more food? Or is he trying to imitate some of the buzzing sounds we make with our lips and hasn’t quite gotten the technique down yet?

But then I had a great “A-HA!” moment this morning when I was fulfilling his daily quota of 4,762 kisses. At one point, he looked me right in the eyes and smacked his lips together. Hey! Could this be the early signs of mimicking our kisses?! Could full-fledged baby slobbers be right around the corner?

Oh, I hope so, because mommy is home with him all day and needs herself some kisses!

(PS – if you’re a child development expert or otherwise experienced parent and  laughing at my naivety, please go away. Ignorance really is bliss in this case.)

Status achieved

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Apparently, the Norwegian government now recognizes Per Christian Svendsen as a Norwegian citizen fit for travel to foreign destinations. His mother and father, on the other hand, are wondering — “Who IS this person in the passport photo?!?!” Neither one of us recognize this little man as the small organism we brought home from the hospital ten weeks ago. How did time pass so quickly?

Taking Per Christian’s passport photo was an interesting experience – going down to the photo store on one of our daily jaunts, laying him out on the white mattress with the photographer standing above him, battling against every shred of sanity to actually wake him long enough to face the camera and get the shot taken. When they then developed and handed me the photo, I could hardly believe that this is how the world will see my son. He’s a good-looking chap, don’t get me wrong, but I hardly even recognized him!

Here are a few more photos from recent sunny days in Oslo. I hope you are all having a great summer and that we’ll get to see you at some point!

The two Christian’s in our Oslo family:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The lovely Larissa and Nina-to-be (Per Christian is first in line for boyfriend status):

Hmmm… He’ll have to get better at hiding his thoughts around the boobies….

Tummy-time is always rich with photo opportunities:

Per Christian bringing ganster-style to Oslo:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another sunny day and bottle of champagne in Oslo:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another sunny day and glass of white wine in Oslo:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Per Christian and Pappa:
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Per Christian & Momma:

Meeting the “Far’s”

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This past weekend, little Per Christian met his Farmor & Farfar for the first time (literally translated, “Father’s mother” & “Father’s father,” otherwise known as doting grandparents in the English-speaking world). Like any grandparents around the world, they fell head-over-heels in love with their very first grandchild. Per Christian clearly knows how to turn on the charm and, as a result, he has guaranteed himself many years of Christmas and birthday presents in the future. Smart kid.

An unexpected by-product of the visit was some much-needed R&R for Per Christian’s parents, who took advantage of the visit to get some extra sleep and to enjoy a bit more wine than usual (at least Mommy did – two glasses of red wine on Saturday night and I was back in true form…).

Below is a summary of the weekend’s events in pictures.

Farmor meets Per Christian for the first time:

Farmor utilizes special Jedi mind-tricks to take charge:

Per Christian’s great-grandmother takes a spin as well:

Per Christian gets a bath (okay – not necessarily weekend-related, but still incredibly cute and news-worthy):

Per Christian meets his Nordic lineage – four generations of Svendsen men:

Farmor takes charge again (seriously – the little man has zero ability to resist her powers):

Per Christian smiles (this is apparently an important developmental milestone and, besides that, it’s just so darn cute):

Farfar demonstrates his own calming techniques, which include a cozy lap, wine and/or beer + copious amounts of Pavarotti:

Uncles Thor and Dag also participated:

Per Christian, who never before accepted a bottle, was reduced to putty in Farmor’s experienced hands (Note that Mommy & Pappa are quite happy with this development as it means we can possible dump share our wee one with various babysitters):

Per Christian went for several long walks in the lovely Norwegian countryside:

And he took his first sailing trip too:

Per Christian chilled outside for a little while:

And Mommy relaxed too:

But finally it was time to head back to Oslo (I don’t usually dress my son for the arctic, but it was actually a bit cold and rainy that day – don’t let the sunshine streaming through the windows fool you…):

Thanks for the visit, Farmor & Farfar – see you again in July!

Hello World – I’m 1 month old today!

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It’s been a busy first month for me, adjusting my tiny body to the heavy demands of the outside world. But I’ve learned a lot already – as have mommy and pappa.

Here are a few achievements I’m especially proud about:

  • Eating – check!… Boobies – yummm. Bottles – nope, not so much
  • Pooping – check!… I mastered the Art of the Dirty Diaper in record time
  • Crying – check!… Although not as bad (or as often) as originally feared, I can still belt out a real earth-shaker when the mood suits
  • Cuddling – check!… I enjoy long cuddles on the couch while mommy watches all this Royal Wedding nonsense
  • Sleeping – check!… OK, so mommy would disagree with me here, but she also repeatedly says that I’m perfect, so I’m checking this off the list
  • The Stroller – check!… I love my daily walks around Olso, it’s the only time I get a guaranteed nap with lullabies of horns honking and city noise in the background
  • Entertaining – check!… I have an uncanny ability to be on my best behavior around company, as long as mommy doesn’t try to put me to bed and miss the party. Forget that – duh!

And last, but certainly not least….

  • Prosecco-tasting – check!… Much to mommy’s relief, I can handle a daily glass of Prosecco well enough to make any Svendsen proud

Stay tuned for more fun to come!

Our Brady Bunch

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And now for something completely different, a cultural reference lesson for the non-American readers among us…
 
“The Brady Bunch” was a very popular TV sitcom back in the early 70’s that portrayed the trials and tributions of a blended family from two separate marriages. Three girls on one side and three boys on the other, learning to live together over five years of predictable sitcom life.
 
” … There’s the story of a lovely lady with three very lovely girls… lalalala…. and a man named Brady with three boys of his own, this group formed a family and that’s how they all became the Brady bunch…. lalalala…“
 
If this still doesn’t ring a bell, check out this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brady_bunch

Per and I have our own spin on the Brady bunch here in Oslo. Our amazing circle of friends has become our blended family in this first month of newborn bliss. (And by “bliss” I of course mean every emotion from tears of joy to tears of frustation…) With our much wiser and more experienced parents residing in faraway locales like Sri Lanka and South Carolina, our friends have stepped in to fill the gap. “Our friends are our family,” is a saying often repeated these past few weeks in the Svensend household.

Our friends have entertained us, fed us, walked with us, cleaned our floors and pushed our child around grocery stores ever since Day One. They have held Per Christian when mommy & pappa needed a break, and they have lavished so much love upon him that the poor child is miserable when his lackluster  parents are the only ones around. Per Christian already bears the typical Svendsen mark of never being able to miss a party – he refuses to sleep when there are visitors in the house for fear that he might miss one more cuddle or one exciting moment. Such is the Svendsen cross he’s born to bear….

So this post is an Ode of Joy to all our friends out there that have ushered Per Christian into being this first month. Thank you for caring for our newborn and his parents. Thank you for being our own personal Brady bunch family.

And now, some photos….