DutchInLaw

Sometimes I feel like writing a blog post about the fun and interesting things that come our way while living in Holland. Sometimes I just feel like dropping a ton of photos into a post so there's at least some sort of recap. (Also sometimes (most of the time) I take so many hundreds of photos that my computer fills up and gets upset at me, which means I really need to get better about clearing them out.) So, here you are. Alsjeblieft .  This is hagelslag (literally, hail-strike), the chocolate sprinkles that Dutch people put on bread. But this particularly kind is so fancy, it's called HAGEL-SWAG. I can't even.  Soft summer evenings with bike paths up the dike. Beautiful but annoying to bike up.  Sometimes we do school outside. Because, why not? Pippin continues creating with pattern blocks. His six-year old explanations of what he has made are not brief, but they are entertaining.  Our blueberry bushes give us about a handful a week.  Friends come over for pl...

Because sometimes the photos and videos fill up my computer faster than I can think what to do with them. Photos from a trip to Rotterdam last August, when the weather was typically Dutch - rainy for a few hours, then glorious sunshine after that.  The metro is the easiest way to get to and from downtown Rotterdam - no parking fees, no crowded streets. A quick swipe of an OV chip card, and you're on your way. One solution to car parking shortages downtown: buy a tiny car and park it sideways. Trams (above-ground public transport) have the right of way and ring their bells in warning.   The city architecture is a mix of new, old, and very old, but there's always somewhere to lean a bike while you run errands or check out the shops.                                The Koopgoot (literally 'Shopping Gutter') is an open sort of tunnel that cuts through downtown and is full of shops of all ...

One of the things I find fascinating in mainstream Dutch culture is the way normalcy is prized. Calling a person  " n uchter " - down-to-earth - is  a compliment. (It's also the word for sober, and I was very confused when I read a medical document that called for blood taken on a ' nuchter ' stomach. In that context, it just means empty, not that for other blood tests it's fine to show up totally drunk.)  Doutzen Kroes, the famous supermodel, said in an interview that she considers herself  nuchter , and values her simple background in Friesland, one of the northern provinces. Googling ' nuchter ' and Doutzen Kroes brings up several hits, including a page that even calls her, translated, 'the Dutch downtoearther'. High praise for a globetrotting international beauty. But if she keeps fame and fortune from going to her head, shouldn't we all? A common phrase I've heard here, especially from parents, is " Doe normaal ." Act...

In Dutch, there's a phrase  mee bezig zijn.  It translates literally to 'to be busy with', but it means more than just being busy and extends to the idea of being occupied. If you asked, I could say, " Mijn blog? Daar ben ik niet zo mee bezig, de laatste tijd ." I haven't been occupied with my blog lately. A word you can use in combination with  bezig  is  druk  - which also means busy. Work can be  druk , traffic can be  druk , a hyper toddler who wants to touch everything and run everywhere in our new house is definitely  druk . And together, the words come out as (very) busily occupied, which is what we've been since we signed papers to buy a house in August. Since then, we've been packing, moving, unpacking, and renovating a huge house in a quaint old neighborhood, down the river from Rotterdam. Or up the river, depending on what way you're looking. It's a beautiful old house, dating back to around 1910, but is also a major fixer-upper,...

Some days we just burble along here. Other days are OSSIM. Today was an ossim day.

"Can you call me instead of ringing the doorbell when you come? I just put Pippin down for a nap...." I text. The sanding machine starts up with a roar five minutes later. The workman warbles. The ladder creaks. I debate my choices. It's been a good morning. My mother-in-law came by for coffee this morning, then 'parked' a bag with us to pick up later. "No problem, we'll be home all day," I had told her cheerfully, but that was before the workman arrived. A friendly bear of a man rang the doorbell holding a bucket and asked politely for some warm water. He said he'd be sanding and scraping today, and working on the old white wallpaper in the stairwell (who wallpapers a stairwell in the first place?) Since we three inside were having coffee and pastry, why not share? My parents used to make entire pots for workmen, and I feel very grownup to be able to offer some from my own kitchen. The workman returns the coffee cup and plate at bre...

Our lives are made In these small hours These little wonders, These twists & turns of fate Time falls away, But these small hours, These small hours still remain -Rob Thomas I'm sitting on the kitchen floor with my toddler. Lasagna is in the oven and we're licking the sauce pot. Soon he'll be off to play with blocks or demolish a pile of laundry, but for now, it's perfect. It's the kind of homey relaxed moment I want my life to be filled with as a mama. There are a lot of those moments in my days and weeks. But there are also other moments that are everything but homey or relaxed. And who takes photos of the tough times, or talks about those tear-my-hair-out and we-may-never-have-another-kid moments?

We received an official letter with a notice of upcoming painting scheduled for our apartment building. The letter included a warning that all inhabitants of our building will be equally billed if painters have to clear the public spaces. A week later, there are still broken bikes and old couches in the basement. Since we have several foreign neighbors, I printed a friendly note in English and dropped a copy in everyone's mailboxes. Then I saw a to-the-point Dutch note already hanging in the hall.  It's fascinating because this sort of issue brings up conflict. 

I often see comments and questions in the expat facebook group from people who have just moved to Rotterdam from another country. I had a chance to adjust gradually - 5 years in a village in the north of Holland, then a year and a half in a town nearby Rotterdam. By the time I actually moved into this metropolis I was fluent in Dutch and knew my way around the city. But to come here directly... that could be quite a shock.

I'm a member of a Rotterdam expatriates Facebook group. It's a great place for discussions on Dutch culture,  travel tips, and articles on parenting.  Today a parent referred to James Dobson's attitude that sleepovers should be discouraged for safety reasons. Not surprisingly, other parents commented with their own opinions, and it turned into a fascinating discussion. Is the discouraging of sleepovers just f ear-mongering? Or a good policy for concerned parents in today's world? Some people responded to the post in just a few words, while others wrote long replies . Here's mine. As expats, we're already creating a different-than-average life for ourselves and our children. We question educational methods, the price of renting-vs-buying, and the safety of biking in the city. Then we decide what is right for our own families. Why not question the value of sleepovers?

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.

“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.

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.                     

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.

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.

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.

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 ...

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...