Category Archives: Family

Over the river and through the woods…

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…. except there were no rivers, and there were no woods. Ooops.

The Svendsen family packed themselves up for a 13km hike in the hills behind our house this past weekend. The scenery is dry, dry, dry – just as you would expect on this arid, volcanic island.

But then, in the midst of it all the dust, we stumbled upon a small Norwegian oasis of trees, shade and picnic benches. Actually created “in honor of the people of Norway” from the mayor of Mogan. Unbelievable…

And every once in a while, we turned a corner and – BAM! – there’s the water again. Getting out and about reminded us that we live on this incredible island, which is an honor we sometimes forget amid the daily grind.

The summer season is really beginning now, we can feel it in the morning air that’s lost its briskness and the shade that’s lost its cool. I expect we’ll be taking a lot more of these weekend hikes with our little chap:

Hope you all had a great weekend!

Two scenarios

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Scenario One : Mommy and Per Christian go to the grocery store in the middle of the day. He’s well-rested from his morning nap and ready to charm the world. Per Christian happily sits in the front of the shopping cart, mischievously reaching for and grabbing things off the shelves every time I turn my back. Despite these setbacks, the cart is filled with wholesome fruits, vegetables and various other items that perfectly correspond to my carefully prepared shopping list. We spend less money than expected and leave well before any cranky restlessness sets in.

Scenario Two : Mommy and Per Christian and Pappa go to the grocery store on Saturday, the timing of which is based on Pappa’s work and Premier League schedule. Per Christian happily sits in the front of the shopping cart, giggling at Pappa who is mischievously reaching for and placing unknown items into the cart every time I turn my back. I start to wonder whose cart is next to me, its only recognizable feature being the handsome little boy in Osh Kosh overalls grinning up at me. Because of these setbacks, the cart is filled with only some of the things from my carefully prepared shopping list, and more likely includes beer and spicy sausages and cases of wine and Cava and strawberry cheesecake ice cream and frozen pizzas and – wait – who put these totally-addicting-and-therefore-totally-forbidden potato chips into my cart?! We spend way more money than expected and leave well after Per Christian’s cranky relentlessness has set in.

Scenario One is certainly enjoyable and much more peaceful. But, truth be told, Scenario Two is a lot more fun and results in a lot of laughter between Mommy and Pappa.

Which scenario is it in your house this week?

A lesson in personal space

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Dear Son,

We understand that you enjoy being with us. We give you love and support, and we make you feel safe and secure. Plus, we’re oftentimes pretty cool people when you allow us enough sleep.

We also love to be with you. Your giggles lighten our lives and start our days with smiles.

But sometimes….. maybe, just sometimes…. you could give us a bit of space?

Pappa’s shower time in the morning just took on a whole new dimension.

Then again, scratch that. We’d have to be crazy to miss out on all this fun!

A recent conversation

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Mommy : “Good morning, Per Christian! Did you sleep well last night?”

PC : (standing in his crib and pointing to the ceiling fan) “Dubbidida dubba da da gugu ga!”

Mommy : “Oh, was it too cold in your room last night? Was the fan too cold for you?”

PC : (now pointing to the door) “Dubbidida dubba da da gugu ga!”

Mommy : “Oh, you want to say good morning to Pappa? Let’s go visit Pappa while he gets dressed for work.”

Pappa : (speaking in Norwegian) “God morgen, lille gutt! Har du sovet godt?”

PC : (this time pointing at Pappa’s shirt button) “Dubbidida dubba da da gugu ga!”

Pappa : “Oh, you want to help Pappa get dressed for work? Such a sweet boy, thank you for helping Pappa with his buttons!” (Pappa passes PC back to Mommy so he can re-button his shirt.)

Mommy : “Per Christian, can you say bye bye to Pappa before he leaves for work?”

PC : (waving his hand at his own face) “Ba byyyyyyyye… ba byyyyyyye….”

Mommy and Pappa melt.

Such a good start to the day.

Weekend getaway

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Per Christian’s farmor and farfar were skiing at Mt. Blanc this past weekend and invited us to join them. I have no false illusions about this invitation – it means, in reality, that they wanted to see their grandson while they’re in Europe, but they’d be happy for his parents to tag along as well.

Unfortunately, Pappa S is a Very Important Man, and couldn’t escape the rigors of hotel life to make the trip. But being the typical loving, supportive wife that I am, I left Pappa behind in Gran Canaria and took Per Christian anyway.

It was Per Christian’s first introduction to the snow, which is quite surprising given that he’s 50% Norwegian material. Even the 50% of his American material has spent a great deal of time in the Russian tundra, so the poor chap is seriously lagging behind in cold weather experience.

Here are a few photos from our weekend getaway. Hope you all had a good weekend also!

Wanted : Genius solutions for Casa Svendsen

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Okay peeps, here’s the deal. The Svendsens have a house here in Gran Canaria that needs some tender loving care. Our greatly-anticipated bombardment of guests begins later this month and continues throughout the summer, so it’s time to get serious and finally unpack those boxes lingering in the basement. We need to transform Casa Svendsen from a temporary rental into a semi-permanent home.

However, anyone who knows the two Svendsen parents also knows that we’re not much of a DIY couple. We admit it completely – we’re really more of a “Can’t we hire someone to fix this for us?” kind of pair. You’d think that Pappa S (being from the hotel industry) would have all kinds of secret knowledge about how to fix/organize/decorate things, right? But no, that’s what he has employees for.

Duh.

And as for Mommy S? Well, let’s not even go there…

So we need help putting this place together and I’m totally at a loss. Therefore, I’m hereby relying on the much-lauded magic of social networking to fix our problems. Write in, comment, send photos, send finely-worded insults about our lack of decorating prowess – whatever floats your boat and is at least mildly constructive.

(Note: the “Where’s Waldo?” impersonation in the photographs below was generously made available by our local resident baby model.)

Ready… set…. go!

ISSUE 1: The Non-Existent Third Bedroom

We really, really wanted a house with three bedrooms so Per Christian would still have his own room when we have guests visiting. Our son is a loud, grumpy and restless sleeper – he was booted out of our room when he was three months old and thank goodness for that! In order to sustain any sensible amount of personal sleep, we need to keep this kid out of our room and in his own space.

However, we’re having no luck finding a suitable house for rent with three bedrooms in Arguineguin. We do, however, have a soon-to-be office space that could be used for a temporary nursery during guest visits. There’s no door and it’s entirely open into the upstairs hallway, so we need to do something to partially seal it off or prepare it somehow for part-time office space and part-time baby sleeping.

How do we turn this bland space into something suitable for double-duty office and baby space? How do we section it off so there is some semblance of a separate, quiet room for PC to get some sleep?

ISSUE 2: Protecting PC from the Stairs (or, more accurately, Protecting the Stairs from PC)

Our little meatloaf is now a very agile and mobile meatloaf, zooming around our non-carpeted floors with great gusto. And like all good parents, we’ve put up a baby gate on the first floor stairs down to the basement, and we also have a gate that will soon go up on the outside terrace.

However, the stairs from the second floor to the first absolutely confound me. They’re kind of “recessed” in a way, so that any traditional baby gate (the ones that screw into each side of the wall or railing) would only begin from the third or fourth step down.

This makes no sense to me! Stylistically, I’ll agree that it’s a good look, but if we don’t figure out a gating solution soon I fear the baby police will be knocking on our door. How do we manage to install a gate from the very top of these stairs so that mommy doesn’t have a stroke every time Per Christian goes zooming down the hallway?

ISSUE 3: Making the Most of our Tiny Kitchen

The kitchen is a particularly painful predicament at Casa Svendsen. When we originally moved here, we thought its demure size wouldn’t matter that much since we’d be eating every meal outside on the terrace anyway (we were very smug back then). The reality, however, is that it does actually sometimes get chilly here (notice I did not say “cold” – I wouldn’t dare insult my Norwegian or Russian friends by labeling this as “cold”), so we need to take advantage of our inside kitchen space.

We have insanely limited cabinet space, and I’m even a bit embarrassed to show their pathetic-ness in these photos. I thought these swinging metal shelves would be a great solution, but I can’t seem to find a system that actually works. The dishes are in disarray, the pots and pans are a disaster, the overhead food storage is a mess… and my poor little spice collection – boo hoo!

How can we arrange this kitchen to resemble the pictures of organized tranquility I see all over Pinterest these days? We haven’t even unpacked the majority of our kitchen gear yet – I’m having a hard time understanding how it will ever fit in here!

(Note: we live on an island in the middle of the ocean, people. There’s no miracle mecca like The Container Store to answer our prayers. However, anyone with brilliant ideas and willing to ship them our way, be my guest!)

ISSUE 4: Turning the Place Green

My green thumb is actually more of a greenish-brown color, as if it was sliced open and then left to fester for too long. Nope, it ain’t green, my friends.

My sister and my father have skills in this area that you wouldn’t believe, but they’re selfish and didn’t pass along that part of their DNA to me. My entire relationship with green plants can be boiled down to one pathetic attempt at a few planters outside our balcony in Oslo. Those poor flowers died a sad, lingering death, and I fear that I was to blame.

We now have this large terrace and I have great plans for it. Great plans! I want one of those cozy outdoor areas that make people linger and drink lemonade, the kind of place that feels cool in the shade, even when it’s boiling hot outside. How do I get that? I mean, is this dirt even useable? Do I need, like, tools and stuff? I know this seems ridiculous, but I’m serious! Total and complete ignorance beyond a vision in my head. Where does one even begin?

So there you have it – four issues that need solving! Please post below your (semi-helpful, or at least fully-humorous) suggestions for either (1) what we can do personally or (2) who we can hire to fix this for us!

Ciao, farewell, and hasta luego from our resident “Where’s Waldo” star!

Two weeks in a nutshell

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It’s been a busy few weeks for the Svendsen household, traveling to London and back, and then (finally!) receiving our furniture shipment from Norway. I find it incredibly ironic that all our cold weather winter gear arrived right after we made our trip to freezing London, but as my five-year-old niece likes to say, “c’est la vie….” (PS – don’t feel too bad if your own five-year-old doesn’t know French yet. We clearly have genius genes in our family.)

Amid all this chaos, our own little meatloaf has decided that pulling up on all types of furniture is a fun thing to try. Per Christian is moving so quickly now, I’ve had to switch my camera to the “Sport” setting to even try and catch him in action. He’s also had his first two days at his new barnehagen, with a few tears shed by us both. I finally decided on a small, local Spanish baby centre right across the street from us, and it seems like a good fit for the entire family.

And if that’s not enough already, he’s also starting to wave and babble something shockingly familiar to “bye-bye.” I’m now trying to convince him that – yes, he can say bye-bye to everyone he sees on the street and to anyone in his life, except for Mommy. Because Mommy will always be there. He will have no need for any other woman in his life, because Mommy will always be there. No bye-bye’s for Mommy, forever and ever and ever…

He seems a bit hesitant to absorb this critical information, but I think we’re making progress.

And now, a few recent photos for all the doting aunts, uncles, grandparents and farmor‘s in the audience:

Big barnehagen decisions…

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The “barnehagen” in Norway is like daycare or nursery school in the US, except that it’s free for everyone (via our enormous tax dollars). But although you’re technically guaranteed a barnehagen placement by law, I’ve heard too many woeful tales to believe it. For example, you might get your place as promised, but it’s in a school across town from where you work, or you have two siblings in two separate schools at opposite ends of the city. Or you can have your place, but only beginning in August whereas your maternity period ends in February, thereby leaving you stranded for six months. The theory is great, but it sometimes falls apart in practice.

On the other hand, I love the concept because of the below photos – this is what you see around Oslo on a daily basis in good weather (and sometimes in rain… remember that there’s no bad weather in Norway, only bad clothing and lots of skoposer).

The Norwegian barnehagen lifestyle is unique because the kids are always out and about. No worries about liability or other nonsense you would have at home, they’re all dressed in florescent vests and out they go. I’ve seen them in the parks, walking down the sidewalk and overtaking the public trams and metros. Loud, rambunctious and lively without anyone complaining – how good it is to be a kid in Norway!

Now that Per Christian is reaching his first birthday, we’re looking for a similar environment down here in southern Canaria. There is a Norwegian barnehagen practically opposite Per’s hotel, which is a great option. It’s filled with Norwegian children and teachers, so I’m sure he’d feel right at home. It seems normal enough – toys around the room and someone keeping a close eye on the kids. It’s clean, convenient, has space available and is in our price range. Simple decision, right?

Not so much.

Yesterday I visited another option, one that I described to Per as the “Cadillac of barnehagens.” It’s a 20 minute drive from our house to the town of Maspalomas, and wow – it was impressive. A big open space with children as young as three months and as old as three years from all over Europe, including Norway, UK, Finland, Germany and Spain. The working language is Spanish, but they do teach some English and German songs when they’re in the oldest 3-year group.

Per Christian was taken to the “La Luna” playroom for children under one year while I had my tour of the school. When we came back 20 minutes later, he was staggering across the floor in one of those baby walkers (which we don’t have at home), sharing a toy with another boy in the group and looking at me with the hugest smile. In typical Marguerite fashion, I did a very poor job of hiding my tears. (I can’t even blame this on post-pregnancy hormones anymore, I’m truthfully just a bucket of emotions wherever my son in concerned.)

So this option is also nice, they have space available, it’s in our price range, but it is not convenient. I know my mind is already made up though, I noticed it as soon as Per started questioning the school last night and I kept defending it even though I’d only spent one hour there during the day. My gut says this is the best place for Per Christian, but it really makes no logical sense since our perfectly good Norwegian option is right around the corner.

It’s kind of like the car decision we made last year – we ended up going for what we wanted even though it wasn’t necessarily the smartest choice. For better or for worse, this is a typical Svendsen family decision.making trait. I guess we haven’t suffered too badly from it in the past, but should we allow it to guide our big barnehagen decision as well?

Giving thanks abroad

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I’ve been living overseas on and off since 1999.

That’s a lot of missed turkeys.

Thanksgiving abroad is a mixture of blessing and curse – if you’re willing/able/crazy enough to put on a feast for your local friends, it’s a day you’ll never forget. Thanksgiving is probably the one remaining 100% American holiday that hasn’t been exported abroad, so your presence is essential for it to happen. And you go so far out of your way to do everything “properly,” things you’d never actually consider doing at home… ordering a freshly-butchered turkey weeks in advance, cleaning an entire pumpkin for hours to bake a real pumpkin pie, making stuffing and gravy and cranberry sauce from scratch because the boxed versions aren’t available.

Per and I made a traditional turkey dinner with all the trimmings for eight friends in Stavanger in 2009. Naturally, as there were Norwegians involved, the festivities lasted until 3am the next morning. We had an apartment slightly larger than a shoebox, so the table stretched from the far wall to the kitchen counter. It was tight, cramped and absolutely fabulous. A real Thanksgiving.

But if you don’t have a group of friends yet or they aren’t readily available, it can be a recipe for one gigantic, disastrous case of homesick-ness.

This year is a bit unique, as you might expect since I’m typing from my lounge chair in a bikini top. There’s no big dinner planned at the Svendsen house, but I can still do my slightly-cynical list of thanks. Over the years, I’ve discovered this to be a pretty good remedy for delaying the onset of turkey-induced homesick-ness.

So here goes….

  1. I’m thankful that I haven’t accidentally killed, disfigured or injured my son yet. Well, there was that one big tumble off a bed last month… so scratch the injury part. The other parts still apply.
  2. I’m thankful that I’m typing from my lounge chair in a bikini top. Until I look down and see my post-preggers pooch-y stomach laughing at me… so scratch the bikini part. The lounge chair thanks still applies.
  3. I’m thankful that I have very special guests visiting this week and next. And that afterwards I’m traveling to visit very special friends and family during the holidays. Except that means long hours alone on the plane and the road with Per Christian, who has entered his I-hate-being-strapped-into-anything-and-everything phase… so scratch the travel part. The friend and visitor thanks still apply.
  4. I’m thankful that I have a husband who apparently still loves me despite all my CFM madness. I suspect he spends a lot of time laughing at me behind my back, but it’s probably well-deserved.
  5. I’m thankful my grandparents are still alive and will join us for Christmas this year to meet their 28th great-grandchild. No joke – that’s some serious family, folks.
  6. I’m thankful that we have a bit of money in the bank. It’s not a lot, it’s not even a medium amount. But it’s enough that we don’t have to worry about where we’re going to live or how we’re going to eat. The number of people who can’t say the same thing grows every year, so we should never take this for granted.
  7. I’m thankful that I don’t live in the US and therefore don’t have to deal with vicious Black Friday shopping crowds tomorrow. Except that I am seriously craving a bit of retail therapy (the absence of which probably accounts for #6 above), so scratch that…
  8. Most of all, I’m thankful that my son just napped long enough for me to write all this down. I feel much better. Except that he’s awake now, so scratch that too….

Happy Thanksgiving everyone, and pass the turkey!

Nature vs. Nurture: Is beach snobbery genetic?

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After three weeks in Gran Canaria, the Svendsen family finally hit the beach.

It was NOT a huge success.

Per Christian isn’t a stranger to water. He’s been swimming in Greece, he’s been sailing in Norway, and he’s been in the pool for several baby-swimming classes.

But the poor chap didn’t care much for the crowed beach of Amadores this weekend. Being packed like sardines in the sand is apparently not his idea of a good time. I wasn’t heartless (or resourceful) enough to snap photos of his misery, but rest assured he looked something like this for the entire 20 minutes we were there:

To be quite honest, his parents agree. Call us beach snobs if you will, but crowds, heat and sand do not mix well in our opinion. Apparently Per Christian inherited those genes, which is just fine with us.

So we gave up the beach and went in search of something else. We passed by all the obnoxious boardwalk restaurants where waiters hustle the tourists with cheap beer and cheaper food. That’s also not our thing.

We finally stumbled upon the Amadores Beach Club. And then Momma, Pappa and little Per Christian lived happily ever after….

Later that afternoon, we created our own little exclusive beach club at Casa Svendsen. Baby nudity is allowed and in fact encouraged here, but I’ve been informed that those photos are not for public consumption:

We also made our first venture into Las Palmas this weekend. We only checked out a tiny portion of it for now, reminding ourselves that we actually live here and don’t have to absorb everything in one trip. So more on that another time.

Per Christian also started his Spanish lessons, which so far consist of tearing pages out of mommy’s Spanish dictionary. We’ll keep you updated on his progress.

Hope everyone had a great weekend!