Introducing Guest Blogger Mike (aka my husband)

It should be clear to all that Heidi has been extremely busy while in Norway. She’s been entertaining frequent guests, taking care of the kids, socializing with her family, working, and of course, writing her blog. Some of you might be wondering what I am doing to fill the days. Well, let me assure you that I am extremely busy.

My day often starts bright and early with a trip to the golf course, accompanied by my father-in-law, Kåre.



Kåre is an excellent player, and shows a great amount of patience as we make our way around the course.




When I come home, I get straight to work exploring the enlightening research that is my real raison d’etre. This is my time to focus on scholarly activity.




After a couple of hours ‘hard at it’ I normally take a break to go for a run.



Now, running in Norway is an entirely different experience than running in Toronto. There isn’t a single flat piece of ground for miles around! Nevertheless, I soldier on for at least 7 minutes, and sometimes 10.



After the run, I come home and spend some quality time with the boys. We normally like to sit on the couch and talk to each other about the activities of the day. The boys are particularly forthcoming about their experiences at school.



It is about this time that I entertain the family, Heidi included, with tales of my best holes from the golf round earlier in the day. This never fails to disappoint.

Later on, as night falls, I catch up with the latest news that affects my work, and ponder the larger issues shaping the world.




In short, I spend my time in a productive and efficient manner. If any of you would like to contact me, then I’m sure that I will be able to find the time to reply in a day or two.

Packing Up!

No, we are not returning to Canada just yet.

Next week is fall break for the boys [c'mon altogether now: I LOVE Norwegian school], so we are packing our bags and heading south...



... to Cyprus!!

One final airing out of shorts, tees and swimsuits before we pack away our summer clothes for good.

I've never been to Cyprus, but you can't get much further south in Europe, so we should be guaranteed good weather and warm ocean water. Which is a nice thought now that we are starting to wake up to temperatures in the low single digits here in Norway.

Today I'm doing laundry, counting socks, underwear, swim stuff - the usual when travelling with kids.

And discussing with Mike the pros and cons of bringing just hand luggage. His idea. Of course, I see the benefits of travelling light, especially when we have a very short layover in Vienna, thus increasing the chance of lost luggage. With our luck, that chance is exceptionally high to begin with.

He stole this idea from friends of ours, who managed to travel to Italy for a 10 day holiday with only carry-ons. [You know who you are! Look what you've started!] And he feels very strongly that if they can do it, so can we.

I'm sure we can, but I just hate the idea that I can't bring all the stuff I want to, just because we have to squeeze into four rolling Samsonite carry-ons! And the thought of doing laundry daily on holiday is also not thrilling me to bits.

Because I won't have time to do laundry, as I'm going to be extremely busy lounging next to our villa's private pool. Not to mention catching up with my fabulous in-laws, who are spending this holiday with us.

No Pulitzer Prize In Our Future

"What do you do if you see a kid standing all alone in the schoolyard?"

I asked, wanting to test my boys' social acuity.

"Well," said Christopher, "if he looks like he is lonely and has no one to talk to, I'd walk over and introduce myself and ask if he wants to play."

Music to a mother's ears.

That didn't do it for Benjamin. He needed another scenario:

"If he is sitting on a rock all by himself, and he is writing something, I'll go over and ask if he wants to play."

Can you tell that Benjamin has issues with writing?

The Worst Case Scenario

As I've mentioned before, we are spending the school year in Norway, half way around the world from where we usually live in Canada. Since we are returning to Canada in the spring, we did not sell our house and bring all of our belongings, but simply brought what we needed for the next 10 months, and left everything else behind.

Now...if I were of the pessimistic kind, I might start thinking about "what ifs" and "worst case scenarios". You know, worry about what bad things could possibly happen to our house in Canada while we're gone.

And if I were that type of person, something like this might come to mind:



...which is a shot taken today of the attractive popcorn ceiling in the dining room in our house in Canada. Take special note of the small water stain. That's new.

But what about this:



That's a shot of our downstairs guest bedroom. Notice the ceiling again - a slightly larger stain this time. I might also draw your attention to the drywall that looks like it's coming undone down the wall.

I think we are getting closer to a "bad scenario".

Which means I don't know what category to place this one in:



A fabulous shot of a cabinet door in our kitchen, adjacent to our dining room and above our downstairs guestroom. Apparently, this cabinet is coming apart completely.

Some of you have probably figured it out already, but for those of us with less insight into building-related matters, the answer to the million dollar question is...a leak! Apparently, a pipe burst in the boys' bathroom directly above the kitchen/dining room, and now we have major water damage in three rooms. And that's only what we can see. Who knows what things look like behind the walls.

Those 5000 km separating Norway and Canada feel pretty darn long today. Fortunately for us, we have friends staying in our house, who undoubtedly saved us from more extensive damage.

Even luckier for us, our good friend Keith was able to come over on extremely short notice to take a look at the situation and provide a short-term fix until we can get a plumber in there.

So here I am...in Norway...BUMMED in a major way...

NEW CEILINGS AND A NEW KITCHEN...WOO-HOO!!

Nominee for Hero of the Day: Keith.
Nominee for Acteur of the Day: Cyril for doing a great pointing job in the pictorial evidence.

You Will Never Guess What I Did This Weekend

...not in a million years...

We went to see the European Championships in Sheep Herding! Did you know that sheep herding is an official sport? It has a website and everything. You need to check it out. The English translation is a joy (excerpt: "Here you will see the best trained sheepdogs in Europe working with sheep").

Regarding the objective of the sport, I have one thing to say:

It's. Really. Exciting.

We lasted all of 20 minutes. Hey - it was cold! Not to mention the fact that the dog runs a long way away from the spectator stands to gather up these sheep, and it takes forever for it to do so. Leaving us to look at a black dot chasing twenty or so dirty-white dots.

Kinda like Pac-Man. Except outside, with winds gusting and the occasional shower.





Don't we look thrilled to be there?

Chalk one up to experiencing life!

In other weekend news...



...I got my baby fix, courtesy of blissfully happy baby Emil (although still trying to figure out a way to keep him)...




...and because I am crazy or have some kind of cleaning fixation, I let B boy and Mathias make their own brownies.

God and the Devil

I don't mean to be turning this into "The Benjamin Show"...but this was too good not to blog about:

Friday mornings always seem a little more pleasant - Mike and I have the 'ah, the last rushed morning before the weekend' feeling, and even the kids are more animated and chatty while eating breakfast. On that note, Benjamin stole the show this morning.

You have to know that our household is non-religious. Mike is a self-proclaimed atheist, and I'm...well...I'm still thinking about it, but tending towards the agnostic side of things. However, we tread gently when it comes to our children. We do not want to push our views onto them, but rather let them have a chance to make up their own minds in due time.

Benjamin, having just turned 7, has been deemed too young to really talk to about this as of yet. So we've kept it at the level of 'some people believe...' and 'other people believe...', and tried to instill in him respect for different beliefs and the idea that this is a really private and personal matter.

Clearly, we need to do better, because unbeknownst to us, Benjamin has already acquired a lot of information on this subject. I almost coughed out my toast when this headliner came out of my lastborn's mouth as he finished his yogurt:

"God was lucky to die first!"

Mike and I looked at each other in stunned silence. 'What?!'

"What do you mean?" I inquired.

Well, that just opened the floodgates - God was lucky to die first because he got to go to Heaven and become God. Everyone else died after him and could not become God, because that job was taken.

Although Jesus was a nice boy who helped God and all the others. Benjamin's enunciation can be a little off sometimes, so 'Jesus' came out as 'cheeses'. Mike didn't get it first, and asked "God was helped by cheeses?". Only a man.

Benjamin also informed us that the Devil is made of fire and stone, and has a spear. He is not very nice, because he uses a weapon.

And when it comes to Heaven, well, it is divided into two. The first half is God's side, which is about 72000 miles. The other half is the Devil's half, and it is only 2000 miles. God's side is larger because Jesus helped him.

I have to admit, for a fleeting second after he said this I was tempted to turn this into a math problem (they are doing fractions at school). You know, 'is it really two halves, if one side of Heaven is bigger than the other?' But I wanted to hear the rest of it - and besides, that would just be such a lame 'mother' thing to do; turn everything into a lesson.

God's side - which is also called Heaven (yes, I see the inconsistency, but this is what you get when your poor son is left to his own devices) - is cloudy with water, and it looks like you are on the clouds, except you don't fall off. The Devil's side is called (lower your voice to a whisper) - Hell - but we are not allowed to say that, because it is a bad word. So we only say the Devil's side. It has red clouds and has fire, and you sleep on spikes.

As I said, we were stunned.

But wait...there's more... Benjamin wants to be the God of Thunder. Apparently that position has not been filled. Because the Norwegian God of Thunder - called Thor - died when he killed a snake, and it killed him back just before it died (this was a bit confusing, but he was adamant they both killed each other). Then a French God took over the thundering! Mike - and his British ancestry - was quick to seize this opportunity, "So we can blame the French for the thunder and lightning?", but Benjamin explained that the French God had died, too.

And there you have it. Any questions?

What are you thinking now?

My Benjamin boy, you are such a funny little guy.

Remember when you were goofing off with Joakim on the side of the soccer field your brother was playing a match on? I noticed your pants kept falling down, and you were holding onto the waist with one hand, hampering you in your valiant attempts to tackle Joakim. I wondered why your pants had suddenly gotten so much bigger on you. I even thought that it would not be good if you lost weight, small as you are! When I went over for a closer look, I saw that your pants were not buttoned. You obviously had not been able to do so, and didn't want to ask for help. Since you dress yourself in the morning, your pants were probably on the verge of falling down all day. In school, in the after school program, on the trampoline...

And what about that day when we came home late from dinner at mormor and bestefar's house on a school night, and you and Christopher were given strict instructions to change, brush your teeth and hit the sack. Right away. I quickly checked my emails, and as I went back to check on the two of you, I saw Christopher was done and in bed. Good job. I went into your room. You were lying on your bed - that's a start - but wearing a new, clean shirt and reading a book. You looked up with that big smile of yours when I came in. Your dirty clothes were strewn all over the floor, a pile of clean clothes that had been placed on the bed was now also on the floor. Your PJs were the only clothes still on your bed, untouched. I asked you what you were doing, and you said you were in bed. I asked you what you were wearing, and you said your PJs. I asked you to double-check, and when you did you looked up in complete surprise "Oh..."

Then there was the time when I came by school to pick you up. You were supposed to be outside playing, but I finally found you in your classroom, alone, where you were looking through a shelf full of drinking glasses to find yours. Except I knew right away that you didn't have a glass there, because you'd never told me you needed to bring one. When I mentioned this, and tried to find out exactly what you thought you were looking for, you became very vague. I guess you were thirsty and just hoped a glass would magically reveal itself to be yours. The very next day you had a very cool looking Bionicles drinking glass with you in your bag. With big letters on it - "BENJAMIN".

I often don't understand how your mind works. In some ways, you seem to be living in your own "Benjamin world". You never tell me anything about your day, and when prompted you do not seem to remember a lot of what you do at school. You could have been on a field trip, but have little recollection of what you saw. You do not recall the names of many of your friends, even though I see you playing with them daily at school. I suppose these details just aren't interesting to you.

On the other hand, you will surprise me with your insight into things that I consider far beyond your 7 years. Things that you really should not even be aware of. Your loyalty to your family and your friends touches me on a daily basis. You show a level of empathy and generosity that is extraordinary, and I'm sure you'd give away your most prized possessions if someone you cared about asked.

And you are a brave boy! You have taken on this task of going to a Norwegian school with gusto, and not once have you cried, protested or in any other way indicated that you found it difficult. Even though I know it must be hard to sit in a classroom with kids you do not know and - at least in the beginning - could not even communicate with. I imagine you having to pretend to listen to your teacher, when you have absolutely no idea what she is talking about. And you still come home every day and tell me that school was great, and that you give it a 9 out of 10.

You are a puzzle to me, my cutie-boy. But a sweet and incredibly happy little puzzle.