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Showing posts from 2015

Fairtrading Bags

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New cotton shopping bag from Lidl! I use these sturdy cotton bags for everything - carrying recyclables to the container, sorting laundry, hiding gifts or food (non transparent!) and of course for groceries. I had been eyeing the new style for a while but already had several of the old cream-colored ones at home.  Today Pippin and I stopped spontaneously by Lidl on the way back from the park and I got more groceries than could fit in my backpack. Alas, we had to buy a new bag :)

Helmets and Homes

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I left the helmet in the hall, put my toddler to bed with extra careful kisses. Then I opened a message to my husband. I wanted to text, "I'm done here. Let's move back home." But I couldn't. Because we are home. And whatever the USA or Poland or other countries used to be to us, they're not home now.

The Painter

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“Hello!” the painter calls cheerfully. Pippin hides his head in my shoulder, peeping out as I walk closer and say hello back. The painter dusts the blue doorway lightly with a clean brush. Then he offers the brush to Pippin. “For you?” “Do you want to help paint?” I tease my little boy.

Recipe for Unforgettable Smoky Sweet Chicken

Marinate chicken, fry it on high. Start to set the table, soothe a hungry 1 year old, then hurry back to the kitchen when you remember the stove is still on. Hurriedly remove now-smoking chicken from heat. Open a window before the smoke alarm starts, then whirl to rescue bottles from 1 year old who is exploring the usually gated kitchen. Yell accidentally at 1 year old, remove 1 year old from kitchen, remember to turn off fire while still holding smoking pan. Put chicken down, shut kitchen gate, and apologize to the now-crying 1 year old. Kiss husband when he walks in the door in the middle of the chaos. Accept compliments on the smoky yet sweet flavor of the new favorite dish.

Speedy Child

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Our house is relatively child-proof, but Pippin keeps getting older and faster. If I leave a door open, he finds it, guaranteed.

Cool Kid Corner

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Nike high-tops and slouchy cool clothes, a cigarette in one hand and a phone in the other. The epitome of an urban "Cool Kid", a young man leans against the corner of a cafe as I walk by with Pippin. Or try to walk by.                     

Donate Your Blanket

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It has been a long quiet spell here on the blog, maybe because life outside the blog has been busy. Ideas for blog posts (like our Breda city trip and Pippin's birthday party) have been floating around in my head but never actually made it into posts. What's nudging me back onto the blog today though is the refugee crisis in Europe.

A Procrastinator's Guide to Dejunking

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Tip 1: Breakables Place breakables on a 'Awaiting Decision' shelf. Allow a child or clumsy friend to knock them onto the floor. Then throw shards in the trash, vacuum floor, and carefully wash off feet. Decision over. Award food to everyone in the room. Tip 2: Boxes of Junk Stuff box of junk under bed. Pull it out at least once a week in search of earplugs, earrings, or small children. Repeat until sick of box. Take to donation center. Do not donate small children. Tip 3: Toys Take photos of old toy to be sold online. Place toy in closet until buyer appears. Wait two unsuccessful weeks, removing small child from closet and forbidden toys periodically. Feel guilty, allow small child to play with old toy. Find small child standing on toy, about to jump off and break it or her/himself. Replace toy in closet. Apologize to husband when toy attacks him upon opening of closet. Wait one more week. Take toy to donation center and breathe sigh of relief. Tip

Morning Milk

He makes a little chirping noise to let me know he's done with his morning milk. Once he has my attention, and I'm not looking at my phone or eReader, he pushes the empty bottle out of the way and squirms into a more comfortable position on my lap. There he cuddles quietly against me for 2.5 seconds. Then he dives, face first, off my lap. He speed crawls towards the window and spends the next minute patting the glass and making sure the neighborhood is safe. Then he crawls away for the next adventure.

Inside and Outside a DutchInLaw Life

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This month some of my family are coming to visit (so exciting!), which means that I get to show them around my DutchInLaw life. It would be fascinating to introduce them to more DutchInLaws – foreigners married to Dutch spouses – because everyone has a different way of interacting with Dutch culture. This is mine. There's the inside world: I drink tea, read and write, and take care of my little family. There's the outside world: I bike around town, have coffee with friends, and take Pippin to the shops and the library.

How to Scare an Egg

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My husband is standing at the counter, trying to peel off a sticky shell. "You didn't scare the eggs? I'm losing half of it," he says.

Spring Fever and Capsule Wardrobes

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Pink and white trees are blooming all over Rotterdam. Pippin and I have been to parks twice in the last week and played on the swings and slides. The sun shines through the windows and has coaxed me to pull out some Tshirts and shorts. Not long ago, my sister sent me a link on capsule wardrobes. A few days later, my mom sent me the same link. And then a few days after that, a friend messaged me with " Random question: do you do a capsule wardrobe? " Either spring fever is in the air or they've all been conspiring together. Maybe both.

Meeting The Faceless

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Since we've had a baby, I've become very aware of the next-door-neighbor-through-the-wall. Since he's in the next building over, we don't see him in our stairwell and say hi. We don't know his name or whether he has a significant other. We just know that there's a good chance that our crying baby bothers him and that his loud music definitely bothers us. When someone is faceless it's easy to reject them. To sigh in frustration, make snarky comments about their music taste or laughter, and yet be uncomfortably conscious that we might be annoying them too. To grumble about the parties they throw and yet never actually get to know what sort of person they are. On Saturday I met our neighbor.

One Small Act

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One of my favorite websites for eco-friendly living is One Small Act . I discovered it when my life went through a makeover in October 2012 – new house, new city. I started chasing minimalism and conscious consumerism. I blogged about the start of the journey here . Did I have any idea how the journey would unfold, or the friends I would "click" with? I doubt it. But I'm glad I started down that road. "Recycle a piece of cardboard" It's interesting to look back at how much I didn't know then about eco-friendly living. My family had always been frugal. My mom can stretch a grocery budget further than anyone I know, and my dad was always the one to explain how solar panels or cycling crops worked. And of course I knew how to recycle, compost, and use up leftovers. But I had never really thought about the chemicals in shampoo and makeup. Or what made Fair Trade food fair. And I hadn't known that there were other "normal" people like me

Be Yourself

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Poster for sale. Inspiration for free. "Be yourself, don't try to be normal." Good thought for those of us who never totally fit in.

Instagram

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Instagram. The virtual home of hipsters who drink organic green smoothies, display nail art and Crossfit abs, and spend hours writing songs in Starbucks. Since I do none of the above, I obviously do not belong on Instagram. Or so I thought.

DutchInLaw Blogger Interview

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One Foot in Both Worlds "Meet Lee, an expat who lives with her husband and baby in Rotterdam, in the Netherlands....." Read more here at  expatwoman.com

Learning the Language

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A Hungarian Poster "Study the language. The language is key to the culture. This doesn't, however, mean you have to attend class (thank goodness). Just turning on the radio is a big help - you'll become familiar with the speech patterns/intonations/dialects, the popular music, and what's going on in society. You can also watch movies in the language (especially with subtitles), take up a hobby outside the home, or get a language buddy. Then, of course, there's the Internet - podcasts, language websites, and online forums. If you enjoy classroom learning, there are classes at different language levels....." I'm drafting my response to interview questions on an expat site. Some of my answer I've already put into my draft of DutchInLaw, the book. It's fun to think through, but I feel like I'm missing some of the answer because it has been so long ago that I first set foot on Dutch soil. And the way I look at language learning as a 29 year o

Shopping Moments

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When I go on errands with Pippin, certain moments occur. And repeat. Often. So much so that I decided to note them here.   Start Line.  This is a 15-25 minute period in which we get ready. I dress Pippin, check the weather (see below), re-dress Pippin to suit the weather, find my own jacket, collect any articles that need returned, pause to give Pippin a drink or a snack, hunt for any receipts needed, put on Pippin's jacket and his shoes, pause to put a water bottle and a snack in my own bag, find his pacifier in case we run into his naptime.... Ever heard the phrase, "Slower than a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter?" That would describe us.  Weather Report.  This is the part where I read online that it's going to storm, and then there proceeds to be gorgeous sunshine as Pippin and I get outside. Or I read that there will be sun and it rains as soon as we step out the door. Sometimes there's even hail. 

The Revenge of the Sock Snatcher

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Somewhere I have a photo of an over-full sock drawer. Or I might have deleted it because it was just too demotivating. Instead you get a picture of shoes of me and one of the sock owners. It so happened that I spent nearly a year as a nanny for three adorable little girls. We had lots of fun together, and the photo is from a day when we all went to the park to feed ducks. The thing about going on an adventure is that you generally have to wear shoes.

Eco Guilt

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You become a mother, and you start looking around at other mothers who are doing it better. They make all the baby food from scratch. Create fantastic, imagination-stimulating nurseries in coordinating colours. Maybe even sew baby clothes from organic cotton.  A feeling of inferiority sets in. It's known in modern terms as "mommy guilt." Based on the amount of magazine articles, blogs, and web pages it's hugely prevalent. The cure, if there is one, seems to just be to remind yourself that you're doing the best you can for your child. And that all the other mothers are doing the same thing, so it's not worth comparing. Do what you can and don't worry about the rest. If you want to get better, take baby steps - don't give up just because you're still in progress. Enough is enough for now. 

Want vs Need

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One of the things I noticed while I continue my house hunt is that I'm very focused on us and on what we want.  Is there a garden for me? A play place for Pippin? Room for a workbench for Faramir? Can we all enjoy our hobbies and follow our passions? Is the neighborhood safe for us? Can I go running and not be paranoid? Can Pippin go out to play at a park when he's older?

The Happy At Home Moments

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Some days, being a stay-at-home-mom bothers me.  Some days I miss being able to just escape the house without having to bring extra diapers, an increasingly heavy Pippin, and a carrier or buggy. Some days I miss being able to move around the house and make noise without having to take naps into account.

Do Something

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When I Was More Dauntless-Divergent

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I was reading "Insurgent" today, after having seen "Divergent" last summer. Both are treasures. I love it when books and films leave me wondering about a new angle on my own life. Taking the aptitude test online, I wasn't surprised to see that I'd fall under the Divergents as well, instead of fitting into one of the normal factions. My answers were a mix of Amity ('I am Peaceful'), Erudite ('I am Intelligent') - and then either Dauntless ('I am Brave') or Abnegation ('I am Selfless') as a third. Taking a few more quizzes, for fun, led to the same result, or when 'Divergent' wasn't a permutation, I would get the other answers; Candor ('I am Honest') was the only faction that wouldn't welcome me, apparently. Amity and Erudite were the highest, but what really made me stop to think was that things have changed in the last few years.

Sweet Streamlining

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From this... to this. From this... to this. My kitchen will be so much tidier now. And the Het Goed 2nd hand store should be rather pleased (I hope) when they sort through the stuff we brought them. Stuff that we have appreciated, and enjoyed, and are now ready to pass on to someone else who will use it more than we do. Storage issues and moving possibilities aside, it bothers me when we hold on to things that we don't use. My ever-patient husband is great at reminding me to stop and consider whether we need something before I buy it on a whim ("I think you need a lightsaber") or toss it on a whim ("It's summer - let's get rid of the fat scarves.") I'm good at questioning whether we need to keep certain things that rarely get used in our lifestyle. Vases? Ice skates? File binders? Some things go in a give-away pile; some stay but get better organised. Meanwhile, Faramir and I sit together on the couch in the

Bowling Over Budgets

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Last week I wrote about when logic and frustration came together sweetly... and I replaced all of our mugs . I'm starting to give our bowls the Stink Eye this week. And I spent about an hour yesterday washing and inventorying all our baby bottles and parts. There's something immensely satisfying about actually taking action on a frustrating area of life. No matter how small. And I know in the grand scheme of things it. does. not. matter. that we have mismatched bowls and mugs. If we lived in a seaside cottage or sprawling farmhouse, I think it would be great fun to have whimsical mugs and cups and bowls that visitors would choose favourites from. When I visit my parents' house, I recognise the special mugs that my uncle sent to my brothers about ten years ago. The mugs sit next to The Cup that my mum has measured out ingredients in for her (famous) homemade biscuits for the last fifteen or so years. And there are new little mugs and bowls that they have picked up on trav

Toys for Me... I Mean, for You

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The problem with having a six month old baby is you can't really justify buying certain toys for them now.... Like Star Wars Lego sets. Or Christmas countdown trees of boxes to fill with mini-suprises. Or Nativity scenes with little figures. And yes, I did stand there and try to figure out how long before he could (safely) enjoy them. And whether the fact that they were on sale would help in the justifying process. I finally, regretfully, put the boxes down and managed to leave the store without anything more exciting than ziploc bags and frozen green beans. On the bright side, Pippin has gotten some fantastic toys for Christmas and his half-birthday.  Like a Noah's Ark with soft little figures to hug and squeeze. Like a toolset that he can chew on and we can pretend to saw off toes with. And a too-cute hedgehog named Chester who rolls up into a pouch and is not prickly at all. There will be enough time later for Lego and toy food, God willing. We even ha

People Who Don't Hate You

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Today was a pleasant day with visiting family, skyping with other family and a friend, and just general cosiness. I found myself thinking just now, "Always nice to hang out with people who don't hate you." And then I had to think about that for a few minutes. I never hang out with people who hate me, and I'm not even sure if there's any one out there who actively dislikes me. Then again, I don't hang out much in general so I probably wouldn't notice. Maybe the thought was just another moment of amused hyperbole. Maybe it was an unconscious reminder that just because friends move away or we fall out of touch, it doesn't have to mean we don't care about each other. Not always, anyway. Faramir and I talked about moving today. That was rare because normally it's just me talking about moving. As in every few months. As a TCK , moving makes me feel safe. It's exciting. Challenging but in a familiar way. Staying in one place for too long makes

Asking Questions and UPGs

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** Note: This was a tricky post for me to write. Including this note, hesitating between typing 'Please don't be offended by this post' and 'This is what is on my mind so it would be dishonest for me to pretend it isn't.' So now you know. Challenging post ahead. ** Yesterday, while running errands, I stopped in front of a window display in an otherwise vacant store. On a platform was the largest and most intricate Nativity scene I had ever seen. There was a castle tower with the Wise Men and a camel emerging, a courtyard with a well and humble shepherds and sheep. An angel and stars hung above the stable roof, where Baby Jesus spread open friendly arms and the visitors (and sheep) climbed a few stairs to greet him.... And on the windowsill below the scene were a few Buddha statues and a lost angel or two. Welcome to Rotterdam, I thought, and snapped some photos.   As a kid, I read the book "You Can Change the World." It was about praying for d

Consultaties, Compliments, and Crackers

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A friend commented once on Facebook that she wasn't a big fan of the Consultatie Bureau (a sort of 'Youth Health' system). I've heard several people agree with her, but I'm more on the side of a mutual friend who commented back something to the point of, 'Funny, I like going there - where else do people want you to talk nonstop about your child? :D' I'll also be honest and admit that I enjoy the compliments we get there. Of course I'm a biased parent who thinks that my child is funny and smart and adorable. But it's not a hard duty to show up and have nurses, secretaries, and random other parents exclaim, 'What an alert child!' 'What beautiful eyes!' etc. After the secretary finished cooing at Pippin (and remember, she probably sees 5-10 babies a DAY) I undressed him down to his diaper for the checkup. I once saw a mother pull out a miniature bathrobe for her little one, and commented how clever that was. I informed Faramir the

Baby Nursing to Solids - The Next Adventure

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There is a heap of newly sterilised storage bottles and caps and plastic pieces in my kitchen. They'll dry, then be packed away. They'll go in a cupboard or box with other "outgrown" baby stuff. The drinking bottles are still in the kitchen, and they'll be joined by little pots and spoons as we go on the adventure of solids. There will be solids, and there will be formula, but there will be no more pumped milk or nursing. I've already given Pippin tastes of solid foods, and laughed and photographed his face while he gnaws on green beans and spits pumpkin out with a grimace. It will be an adventure, I tell myself. Together we will brave the world of pureed broccoli and regurgitated banana, and I will make sure he gets his vitamin drops. It's all just happening sooner than I would like. Maybe the next baby will be one of the cool kids who gets "real" milk up to a year or two. I made it to six months with Pippin,  and I know I should be

Mug Shot

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I realised the other day how much nicer it would be if we had 10 or so decent-sized harmonious mugs living in our cupboard instead of  3 huge mugs 2 bitty striped mugs from a set of 4 (I probably broke 2 over the years) 6 tea glasses (I probably broke 2 or 3) 2 medium sized coffee mugs (1 was broken and got replaced, 1 was ug-gly and was given away) A few small coffee mugs are currently either hiding in a give-away bag in the cellar or have already been dropped off by Het Goed. In particular a set of tiny blue ones we bought to set up our first home together (awww) that went from 4 to 2 over the years. In other words, a hodgepodge of mugness. I don't need a perfectly matched set of mugs (especially not expensive ones, given my talent for breaking things). But I like things in my house to be harmonious, and 7 different types and sizes of receptacles for hot drinks was just too much. Especially when there are mugs, and then tea glasses, and then coffee mugs. Since the

Music Analysis

After thoughtful analysis, I conclude that my musical tastes run overwhelmingly to soft rock in a low key with a dash of existential hope/angst and a sprinkle of soothing undertones. And apparently there are fewer female artists who specialise in this because only one made it into my top 15 list....  Switchfoot Mat Kearney Ludovico Einaudi Coldplay Zucchero Blof Shane & Shane John Mayer Mark Knopfler Owl City Andrew Peterson Jamie Cullum Dido Five for Fighting Newsboys

Obligation

Read a fascinating post today on  " Why Switchfoot Won’t Sing Christian Songs" My favourite part: " My songs are a part of my life. But judging from scripture I can only conclude that our God is much more interested in how I treat the poor and the broken and the hungry than the personal pronouns I use when I sing. I am a believer. Many of these songs talk about this beli ef. An obligation to say this or do that does not sound like the glorious freedom that  Christ  die d to afford me. I do have an obligation, however, a debt that cannot be settled by my lyrical decisions. My life will be judged by my obedience, not my ability to confine my lyrics to this box or that." - Jon Foreman, Switchfoot Full post  here

Groceries Again

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After yesterday's errands, I sat down to blog eloquently about moments of human kindness encountered outside of my temporary apartment. After today's errands, I fried the cracked egg and cleaned up the leaking milk that were casualties of my hurry when someone tried to cut in front of me at the grocery store because they were confused about when the cashier had said they could ring up an extra shopping bag. And by the time I cleaned up the mess, I found Pippin trying to sneak a nap on my bed before the authorised time. Yes, I do go to two grocery stores. Often weekly. With a 7-8 kilo child strapped to my front and several more kilos of groceries in my backpack and little 'oma karretje' at my side. Which all need lugged up our apartment stairs. I feel my muscles should be much more defined than they are, but at least the workout is enough to burn off the handfuls of fresh nuts now available in the bulk bins at Lidl and the bitter chocolate at Dirk. Another recen

Temporary

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Some days I get frustrated with living here. The traffic noise. Cigarette fumes in our apartment building stairwell that drift into my house. Litter on the sidewalks and street, kids who ride their bikes without respect for anyone in their paths. There are few people, if any, who take pride in their neighborhood. And why should they? The apartment blocks are, for the most part, faded or dingy. The streets are narrow (which is, to be fair, normal for Holland) and cars shuffle in and out of spaces, dodging bits of glass or rubbish that may be on the ground. The 'Te Koop' and 'Te Huur' signs that constantly pop up in windows show how often new people arrive to buy and rent. The piles of trash left on the curb at moving day show how often people leave again. Of course, there are positives to our neighborhood. Within a five minute walk are the shops, cafes, the post office, and great public transport. There are green parks and a fascinating stream of people from dozens