DutchInLaw

2 September, 2014 Some days a little person wakes you up from your (short) nap and then insists on finishing his while collapsed on your shoulder like a potato. At these times it's important to remember that the only person who cares if your house is clean is you. Certainly not the potato, and probably not guests, as long as they get to hold the potato. 12 September Urban babies take the metro . ‪#‎urbanbabies‬ ‪#‎babywearing‬ 12 September Baby asleep on shoulder, warm lamplight, tea, pajamas, and new book with a Ludovico Einaudi soundtrack. Hard to top this for a Friday night.... 16 September New hobby: leaving video messages on skype for family and friends when the little wiggly guy is feeling talkative. 20 September Expensive cars and blingy clothes are so last year. Want attention? Walk around town with an adorable baby in a carrier. Not enough admiring comments? Bring along a friend with her own adorable baby in a carrier. 21 September Watching the ...

I'm charmed by this hospital. Since being pregnant and having Pippin, I've been to four hospitals in the area. A few months ago Faramir and I joked that before long we'll have visited every single one, and we're making good progress on that. So far, the Havenziekenhuis is one of my favourites. For one thing, it's relatively small, which seemed to translate to less patients and staff, and less rush overall. Despite being under construction- or perhaps because of it - the atmosphere was cheerful. The men putting bookshelves together chatted with passing medical staff ("It's certainly not Ikea furniture!"). The receptionists exclaimed over Pippin's photo ID, and then even more when I pulled back his buggy shade so they could get a better look at the real deal. "Ah, so cute! And he was born the day after my grandson!" The doctor I had the appointment with was professional and friendly, and was willing to dialogue over possible issue...

This morning I had found an advertisement for some bottles and pacifiers from a seller on Marktplaats, a popular buying/selling website. Over the months I've found several similar ads, from "We bought too many size 1 diapers" to "My baby has grown out of these clothes." Sometimes I can go pick up the items for cheap, sometimes for no charge. When they're free, I like to take a box of chocolates as a little 'thank you' gift. Only, I've recently run out of my gift stash and needed to get some more tonight, as well as groceries. I tucked Pippin into his baby carrier, dropped a kiss on Faramir's cheek, and headed out the door. We passed a boy sitting on his doorstep by the mailboxes, next to a pile of letters, with a woman behind him as he talked to her in Italian. Translating? "If everything is not paid..." It's about five minutes walk to the grocery store through my multicultural neighborhood. Three if traffic is light - no car...

I'm cooling down after a run, walking through my neighborhood with headphones in and tired muscles protesting. My attention is drawn by two policemen, in black sweaters and trousers, using a scanner to check license plates- an easy way to tell who has paid for parking. And who hasn't. The beeping continues behind me as I reach the next corner and am accosted by five excited kids. I've seen them before during runs; a mix of black and white, girls and boys. I'd guess their ages to be between five and eight. It's not unusual to see kids of all ethnicities out playing on the sidewalks in our neighborhood. Having grown up myself with a big yard and the beach 20 minutes away, I wonder if they even know what they're missing, limited to concrete sidewalks and a few parks . And I wonder if their parents ever worry about them, in our area where there's a high housing turnover rate and it's not uncommon to smell weed. "Mevrouw, mevrouw!" the kids say ...

Today Pippin and I strolled our way down the road, under the bridge, up the hill, and around the corner to my old office. There he was.made a royal fuss over by my friends. Fortunately, it was a slow day at the nonprofit office, but I imagine a busy day wouldn't have mattered much to them anyway. The secretary, I., even answered the door for some clients while holding Pippin, and came back laughing that she had had to explain,"He's not mine! He's a colleague's!" Since I've only come in on a project basis for the last year or two (and not even that for the last few months) there were a few new faces at the office. I shook hands with the one, as M. proudly explained, "She's been a volunteer here for a long time, but has been pretty occupied the last while...." "I can see why. Congratulations!" Another new face belonged to a male intern, and while he also shook hands politely, I felt sorry for him trying to do his work and use the ...

I sleepily think about timing as I sleepily grope for a diaper. Our heavy curtains do their job well, blocking out the autumn city glow at 3am the way they blocked out the bright-til-11pm summer skies. I'm on the lookout for a small lamp or nightlight, but until then I turn my smartphone on and start changing Pippin by its light. He wavers between anger and panic, convinced that every second of delay could be the end of the world. He's too young to understand that a 30 second soggy change now prevents a three minute blowout change later. It equally past his comprehension that washing my hands helps prevent hin getting sick, and that we pad from bedoom to living room so his papa can get some extra sleep and have more energy to play with Pippin tomorrow. The most ironic moment of all comes when we finally settle on the couch, Pippin still upset. He resists as I try to replace his pacifier with a bottle. "Hey," I tell him softly, " the bottle is so much better....