After a few months of leisurely calm, things have taken a hectic turn in Norwayland.
First of all, I'm struggling under an avalanche of urgent translation assignments. My work load usually increases after the holidays, but this year is crazy. Judging from all the requests for translation of MRI/SPECT software and user guides, Norwegian medical clinics have apparently all decided to upgrade to new and better machines at the same time.
It never ceases to amaze me how companies will spend years - not to mention millions of dollars - on R&D of these extremely complex medical machines, and yet only a few weeks to localize the accompanying documentation.
You'd think it would be worth a bit of time to make sure the users actually understand how to operate the machinery. Especially since this is equipment that could kill patients if used incorrectly.
It also sucks BIG TIME that I may be very busy the last few weeks and months in Norway. I'm trying not to think about it too much. I'm ostrich-like that way. If I ignore it, it'll go away, no?
I guess not.
On a brighter note, Emil was baptized today, followed by a reception held here at our house this afternoon. He was such a good boy! Not a tear was shed, but he did make a grab for the Priest's Bible in her hands as she was speaking.
I'd love to show you a picture of his adorable self, but I apparently altered the camera option to the 'blurry only' setting this morning.
As we drove away after the ceremony, Christopher commented that he didn't know priests could be female. Mike explained that the term 'priest' in North America usually refers to Catholic priests, and that the Catholic Church does not allow female priests. The Norwegian Protestant Church, which also uses the term "priest", makes no such distinction between the genders.
This moment was too good to pass up, so I seized the opportunity to launch into a lecture about gender discrimination, and soon Christopher caught on and compared it to racism, which we all agreed was terrible and wrong.
I was bathing in the glorious light of good parenting, thinking somewhat smugly to myself that one day, one day, my daughters-in-law would thank me for raising such liberal and open-minded boys.
And how my daughters-in-law and I would be best friends. And they'd call me when they got pregnant with my first grandchild. Even before they called their own mother!
How wonderful it all would be.
But then Benjamin opened his mouth:
"Luckily, there's no 'discrimation' in Star Wars Battlefront*, mamma."
"No, even girls can be snipers in Star Wars Battlefront."
As the vision of my daughters-in-law and I running happily arm-in-arm disintegrated before me, I was at a loss for words.
I could have tripled sighed, but instead I burst out laughing: "Where's the computer when I need it?"
*For those good parents who do not allow their children's minds to be wasted by electronics, I should clarify that Star Wars Battlefront is a PlayStation game. I do not think I need to clarify that it consumes too much of my youngest child's consciousness.