Well, I'm 36 today. And in case that wasn't enough to depress hell out of me, it's a rainy cold gray day. And Ben and I just bought our plane tickets to leave Norway. We fly to San Francisco on November 16. There is a slight chance we'd come back after a long visit, but I doubt it. So the plan for now is to visit visit visit--with our family in San Francisco and Santa Barbara, with our family in New England, and with friends all over, including up in Portland, before settling....where? Wherever Ben gets a job. I'm so excited to see everyone--and part of me is deeply sad at the thought of leaving Norway. I don't know whether lack of sleep is making me emotional, but I feel very torn and kind of gray today.
I'm going to put on some music and clean the heck out of the house. Maybe make myself feel better. Ben took Leo for a bit. On the roster for the weekend is lunch with Kristin and Thor, Therese and Thomas, and Ian tomorrow--and bowling this afternoon (Ben's idea, of course).
Happy birthday to me.
Love,
Susie
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Hi
hi gang,
doing a lot of one-handed typing these days, as my main computer time is when leo is on my lap doing something like nursing or snoozing. so forgive my lack of caps.
sunday morning, ben and i are half-listening to a podcast of "fresh air," and leo is waking up on my lap. okay, now leo is shrieking, a rare occurrence of late. i think maybe eating half a head of romanesco (like fancy broccoli) last night might not have been the most brilliant idea. ben is walking him around as he arches his back in pain. poor little guy.
[Interlude. I feed Leo some fennel tea. He pukes on the floor. Ben takes over, rocks him underneath the stove fan, Leo's favorite noise. Susie cleans the house frantically while she has two hands free.]
And now Leo is on Ben's lap, and I have capital letters again. Life as a mom continues. Oslo is spectacular these days: crisp, sunny, breezy, and all the sorts of things that happen in summer somewhere else happen in September here: the nighttime candle-lit walk along the Akerselva (the river that runs through East Oslo), the two-day farmers' market extravaganza on Karl Johans Gate. It's great to have diversions and things to do when you have a new baby and your husband is simultaneously writing a Masters thesis and looking for a job.
I have up and down days. I'll admit the lack of independence can get to someone as happy about her free time as I am. But Leo is steadily becoming more joyful to be around. I feel like we just had a couple breakthroughs that have made my life feel more complete and a little less chaotic. One, he seems to need to eat a little less frequently, or maybe I have figured out that he wasn't really eating the whole time he was camped out on my boobs for 45-minute long sessions that took place every 90 minutes (let's just say, Leo is a breast man at the tender age of eight weeks). And, and I almost hesitate to write this lest I jinx it, he seems to have become a better sleeper in the past five days, napping more consistently and, better yet, falling asleep on his own (i.e. without a parent rocking him to sleep, which we had to do every time before now). The funny thing is I would have just kept on rocking him, assuming he wouldn't fall asleep on his own, had Ben not unceremoniously dumped Leo in his basinet one night because his back was hurting and he was sick of standing up with him in his arms—only for us to find three hours later that Leo had fallen fast asleep and stayed that way. Oh joyous day. He compensates grudgingly for this move of independence by wanting to be carried a lot during the day and taking at least one nap cradled in my arms. To be honest, I don't mind one bit. It is, to use the Norwegian word, one of the most koselig things I can imagine, having a little warm cute guy all snuggled up in the crook of your arm. These days don't last forever, so the experts tell me.
And he's smiling; looking at books with pictures of dots and circles and things. I'm singing to him and reading him poetry. He tends to start crying when I read the poetry. He smiles when I sing.
Not much else to report. Today is a little gray and we're going to go for a walk in the city, maybe get a coffee, stroll around. My thoughts are starting to turn to home and so are Ben's, though there are days I don't want to leave Norway at all. Part of this is practical—the medical care is incredible here. Seriously. Any of you, or your relatives, who wants to hear about my experience with socialized medicine, I am happy to share. And I have made some really good friends, and of course the thought of leaving the Steen and Brook Steen families makes my heart break. But I really miss my family...Ben's family...tacos...
Here are a couple of recent pics.
Leo with grampa Tim, who visited a couple weeks ago:
Leo with Auntie Jorin, who surprised us, armed with raw goodies and John Lennon onesies and fancy Italian leather baby shoes:
And Leo and me in the Vigelands Park. In case you were wondering, yes, the gorgeous thick hair I had for nine months is falling out in clumps. Fleeting pregnancy hormones, ya bastards.
Cheers,
Susie
doing a lot of one-handed typing these days, as my main computer time is when leo is on my lap doing something like nursing or snoozing. so forgive my lack of caps.
sunday morning, ben and i are half-listening to a podcast of "fresh air," and leo is waking up on my lap. okay, now leo is shrieking, a rare occurrence of late. i think maybe eating half a head of romanesco (like fancy broccoli) last night might not have been the most brilliant idea. ben is walking him around as he arches his back in pain. poor little guy.
[Interlude. I feed Leo some fennel tea. He pukes on the floor. Ben takes over, rocks him underneath the stove fan, Leo's favorite noise. Susie cleans the house frantically while she has two hands free.]
And now Leo is on Ben's lap, and I have capital letters again. Life as a mom continues. Oslo is spectacular these days: crisp, sunny, breezy, and all the sorts of things that happen in summer somewhere else happen in September here: the nighttime candle-lit walk along the Akerselva (the river that runs through East Oslo), the two-day farmers' market extravaganza on Karl Johans Gate. It's great to have diversions and things to do when you have a new baby and your husband is simultaneously writing a Masters thesis and looking for a job.
I have up and down days. I'll admit the lack of independence can get to someone as happy about her free time as I am. But Leo is steadily becoming more joyful to be around. I feel like we just had a couple breakthroughs that have made my life feel more complete and a little less chaotic. One, he seems to need to eat a little less frequently, or maybe I have figured out that he wasn't really eating the whole time he was camped out on my boobs for 45-minute long sessions that took place every 90 minutes (let's just say, Leo is a breast man at the tender age of eight weeks). And, and I almost hesitate to write this lest I jinx it, he seems to have become a better sleeper in the past five days, napping more consistently and, better yet, falling asleep on his own (i.e. without a parent rocking him to sleep, which we had to do every time before now). The funny thing is I would have just kept on rocking him, assuming he wouldn't fall asleep on his own, had Ben not unceremoniously dumped Leo in his basinet one night because his back was hurting and he was sick of standing up with him in his arms—only for us to find three hours later that Leo had fallen fast asleep and stayed that way. Oh joyous day. He compensates grudgingly for this move of independence by wanting to be carried a lot during the day and taking at least one nap cradled in my arms. To be honest, I don't mind one bit. It is, to use the Norwegian word, one of the most koselig things I can imagine, having a little warm cute guy all snuggled up in the crook of your arm. These days don't last forever, so the experts tell me.
And he's smiling; looking at books with pictures of dots and circles and things. I'm singing to him and reading him poetry. He tends to start crying when I read the poetry. He smiles when I sing.
Not much else to report. Today is a little gray and we're going to go for a walk in the city, maybe get a coffee, stroll around. My thoughts are starting to turn to home and so are Ben's, though there are days I don't want to leave Norway at all. Part of this is practical—the medical care is incredible here. Seriously. Any of you, or your relatives, who wants to hear about my experience with socialized medicine, I am happy to share. And I have made some really good friends, and of course the thought of leaving the Steen and Brook Steen families makes my heart break. But I really miss my family...Ben's family...tacos...
Here are a couple of recent pics.
Leo with grampa Tim, who visited a couple weeks ago:
Leo with Auntie Jorin, who surprised us, armed with raw goodies and John Lennon onesies and fancy Italian leather baby shoes:
And Leo and me in the Vigelands Park. In case you were wondering, yes, the gorgeous thick hair I had for nine months is falling out in clumps. Fleeting pregnancy hormones, ya bastards.
Cheers,
Susie
Monday, September 14, 2009
Back!
Hiya--well, Leo is seven weeks old tomorrow and I thought I'd at least make an effort to start writing my blog again. It is exceedingly difficult to get things done with a newborn! Leo...
Well, Leo is a pretty amazing little guy. Ben and I are loosely practicing something called attachment parenting, which as I interpret it means giving your kid a lot of love by responding to him when he needs something/cries. There are other factors, like carrying the baby close (in a baby sling, for example), (breast)feeding on cue rather than on schedule, etc., but the responding thing is really the main idea. The whole stick-your-kid-in-the-crib-and-let-them-cry thing doesn't play. Frankly, I don't imagine it would work for most babies or parents anyway, theory be damned--unless you have a huge house and could lock your kid in a room where you can't hear him crying, when the kid starts to shriek, it does something to you psychologically and you want him to stop. IMMEDIATELY.
Why am I telling you this? I guess just to impress upon you the amount of work involved in parenting a newborn when you don't believe in letting him screech for hours. And I think Leo is a little bit of a higher need baby anyway, but maybe not. Let's just say, there have been weeks when we were not able to put Leo down. EVER. We might get an hour or two of unattached sleep a night, but otherwise we were holding him, rocking him, or carrying him in a baby sling 24 hours a day. Wow, exhausting. And sometimes even when we're doing everything right, he just fights us--fights off sleep, fights while nursing, fights while getting changed.
But, friends, I think all this holding and loving is paying off. Kristin (aka Tante K) told me that the first six weeks are chaos and after that you have some semblance of normalcy, and I think she might have been right. At least, I all of a sudden have a very sweet, smiley, happy baby who will even hang out by himself in his crib occasionally while his mom does the dishes. Does he still lose his mind occasionally? Of course. But we're coping.
So it goes in Oslo. More soon.
Susie
Well, Leo is a pretty amazing little guy. Ben and I are loosely practicing something called attachment parenting, which as I interpret it means giving your kid a lot of love by responding to him when he needs something/cries. There are other factors, like carrying the baby close (in a baby sling, for example), (breast)feeding on cue rather than on schedule, etc., but the responding thing is really the main idea. The whole stick-your-kid-in-the-crib-and-let-them-cry thing doesn't play. Frankly, I don't imagine it would work for most babies or parents anyway, theory be damned--unless you have a huge house and could lock your kid in a room where you can't hear him crying, when the kid starts to shriek, it does something to you psychologically and you want him to stop. IMMEDIATELY.
Why am I telling you this? I guess just to impress upon you the amount of work involved in parenting a newborn when you don't believe in letting him screech for hours. And I think Leo is a little bit of a higher need baby anyway, but maybe not. Let's just say, there have been weeks when we were not able to put Leo down. EVER. We might get an hour or two of unattached sleep a night, but otherwise we were holding him, rocking him, or carrying him in a baby sling 24 hours a day. Wow, exhausting. And sometimes even when we're doing everything right, he just fights us--fights off sleep, fights while nursing, fights while getting changed.
But, friends, I think all this holding and loving is paying off. Kristin (aka Tante K) told me that the first six weeks are chaos and after that you have some semblance of normalcy, and I think she might have been right. At least, I all of a sudden have a very sweet, smiley, happy baby who will even hang out by himself in his crib occasionally while his mom does the dishes. Does he still lose his mind occasionally? Of course. But we're coping.
So it goes in Oslo. More soon.
Susie
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Leo Andreas Eichenberg
...was born on Tuesday, July 28, at 6:14 p.m. Oslo time. He weighed 3.2 kilos and was 51 cm long.
Here he is yawning (or trying to make out with Sophie La Giraffe, a present from our friend Deepak--we're not sure which).
Love,
Susie
Here he is yawning (or trying to make out with Sophie La Giraffe, a present from our friend Deepak--we're not sure which).
Love,
Susie
Monday, July 20, 2009
DIY Diva? Or: an ode to my talented friends and family
For one who considers herself to be pretty crafty, and who has, since school ended OVER A MONTH AGO, had a lot of time on her hands, I have made shockingly little for this impending baby. My mother in law asked me last night if I've been knitting and sewing and making stuff for the babe and I had to admit that I really haven't. I've worked on my book a lot, and made a few things for other people in the past month (Mexican-style glass candle holders, made for Lauren and Julie, pictured below on our tiny deck)...
...but I have been a total slacker as far as the babe is concerned. But I realized that partially, this is because I have had other people making such gorgeous stuff for me. I thought I'd post some pictures of some of the beautiful handmade things Ben and I have received from friends and loved ones.
Here are two gorgeous quilts, made by the baby's two future grandmothers. The first is a quilt my mom made from fabrics that actually came from my grandmother, Gladys (my dad's mom). My mom found these scraps in the attic when my grandmother died, and made our family a beautiful wall quilt of them a few years ago. When I told my mom I was pregnant she decided to see if she had enough to make a little quilt for our baby, too. The fabrics probably come from 1940s flour sacks and they are almost all different. It is such a nice thing for me to see these fabrics that come from two generations back, and each one is really beautiful and sort of surprisingly exotic. My mom is an amazing quilter. She is very methodical, has this wonderful sense of layout, and redoes her quilts until everything lines up right. This is not a skill I have. Last year I decided that if I wanted to stick with sewing I had to basically make a pact with myself to stop measuring unless I absolutely had to, because measuring was making me crazy. So, I admire my mom all the more, because her handiwork is just so good.
The second quilt just arrived in the mail this morning from Ben's mom Ann. It is stunning. Ben's mom has an incredible sense for color and is willing to be bold at all times (we have a bright orange and green winter quilt that she made us to take here to Norway, to stave off the dark winters--it worked!). This quilt has this beautiful centerpiece that is sort of off-kilter, and Ann's friend Linda helped her quilt it (i.e., do the part where you drive all over it with the sewing machine/by hand and make it puffy and quilted). I really love it. In fact, I am thinking that it might get hung on the wall instead of go on the baby's bed. But then, I said that about my mom's quilt at first too, and have since agreed that the babe can have it if he really wants. Speaking of which: there are an awful lot of pinks in Ann's quilt. She is pretty convinced we are having a girl.
Here, you can see Mr. Stuffed Rabbit, who arrived with Ann's quilt this morning. He was made by Linda, the quilter. I love Linda--she used to own this fabric store with lots of batiks and other beautiful exotic fabrics, and she makes these amazing creations out of them even though she's now, I think, a real estate agent. This rabbit is so cute and so very cool--again, more art piece than baby toy, and he might have to wind up on the wall instead of in the baby's crib. We shall see. He is totally sturdy, with all these nice subtle touches, and frankly I think Linda should really go into business selling these guys! In the second photo, Mr. Rabbit wears a pair of terry cloth baby booties, also made by Linda.
Now, a pair of warm-makers. The first is a Merino wool blanket that my friend Catherine knit. Isn't it incredible? I'm not sure how this pattern works at all, but the swirl in the middle is sort of groovy and beautiful at the same time. It's so soft and nice, too (and can be thrown in the wash!). Ben and I were stunned when we pulled it out of the package (also arrived today. What a windfall). Catherine is a hell of a knitter and has that same kind of patience my mom has. She once made this knitted robot for her husband Jay that was so funny I kind of wanted one for myself.
The second photo is of this duvet--duner, is I think how you spell that in Norwegian, but I could be wrong--cover that my friend Stine made. You remember I have two wonderful Stines in my life. In fact, I like them both so much that I have considered Stine (pronounced sort of Steena) as my Norwegian girl's name--until my mom, who had only read Stine and not heard it pronounced, referred to Stine as "Stein" and I thought, uh, no, that won't work for an American. ANYWAY, this is the Stine who is the mom of Dagny. She loves nice things, organic stuff, just like me--and she sewed us this duvet cover with animals all over it. It's so sweet. Here it is with a duvet inside. I was always sort of a European sleeper, but after a year in Norway I am fully converted to the no-top-sheet routine, and looks like our baby will be too.
Last but not least: a lovely wool sweater my mom knit, complete with hat and GIANT pompom. This sweater might fall into the category of things you dress your children in that they would be not caught dead wearing themselves, if they knew how goofy they looked.
And here, friends, is my big contribution to the baby effort. Fabric breast pads, to stop leakage. Triple-layered cotton batting for extra absorption.
What can I say? I'm pretty crafty.
...but I have been a total slacker as far as the babe is concerned. But I realized that partially, this is because I have had other people making such gorgeous stuff for me. I thought I'd post some pictures of some of the beautiful handmade things Ben and I have received from friends and loved ones.
Here are two gorgeous quilts, made by the baby's two future grandmothers. The first is a quilt my mom made from fabrics that actually came from my grandmother, Gladys (my dad's mom). My mom found these scraps in the attic when my grandmother died, and made our family a beautiful wall quilt of them a few years ago. When I told my mom I was pregnant she decided to see if she had enough to make a little quilt for our baby, too. The fabrics probably come from 1940s flour sacks and they are almost all different. It is such a nice thing for me to see these fabrics that come from two generations back, and each one is really beautiful and sort of surprisingly exotic. My mom is an amazing quilter. She is very methodical, has this wonderful sense of layout, and redoes her quilts until everything lines up right. This is not a skill I have. Last year I decided that if I wanted to stick with sewing I had to basically make a pact with myself to stop measuring unless I absolutely had to, because measuring was making me crazy. So, I admire my mom all the more, because her handiwork is just so good.
The second quilt just arrived in the mail this morning from Ben's mom Ann. It is stunning. Ben's mom has an incredible sense for color and is willing to be bold at all times (we have a bright orange and green winter quilt that she made us to take here to Norway, to stave off the dark winters--it worked!). This quilt has this beautiful centerpiece that is sort of off-kilter, and Ann's friend Linda helped her quilt it (i.e., do the part where you drive all over it with the sewing machine/by hand and make it puffy and quilted). I really love it. In fact, I am thinking that it might get hung on the wall instead of go on the baby's bed. But then, I said that about my mom's quilt at first too, and have since agreed that the babe can have it if he really wants. Speaking of which: there are an awful lot of pinks in Ann's quilt. She is pretty convinced we are having a girl.
Here, you can see Mr. Stuffed Rabbit, who arrived with Ann's quilt this morning. He was made by Linda, the quilter. I love Linda--she used to own this fabric store with lots of batiks and other beautiful exotic fabrics, and she makes these amazing creations out of them even though she's now, I think, a real estate agent. This rabbit is so cute and so very cool--again, more art piece than baby toy, and he might have to wind up on the wall instead of in the baby's crib. We shall see. He is totally sturdy, with all these nice subtle touches, and frankly I think Linda should really go into business selling these guys! In the second photo, Mr. Rabbit wears a pair of terry cloth baby booties, also made by Linda.
Now, a pair of warm-makers. The first is a Merino wool blanket that my friend Catherine knit. Isn't it incredible? I'm not sure how this pattern works at all, but the swirl in the middle is sort of groovy and beautiful at the same time. It's so soft and nice, too (and can be thrown in the wash!). Ben and I were stunned when we pulled it out of the package (also arrived today. What a windfall). Catherine is a hell of a knitter and has that same kind of patience my mom has. She once made this knitted robot for her husband Jay that was so funny I kind of wanted one for myself.
The second photo is of this duvet--duner, is I think how you spell that in Norwegian, but I could be wrong--cover that my friend Stine made. You remember I have two wonderful Stines in my life. In fact, I like them both so much that I have considered Stine (pronounced sort of Steena) as my Norwegian girl's name--until my mom, who had only read Stine and not heard it pronounced, referred to Stine as "Stein" and I thought, uh, no, that won't work for an American. ANYWAY, this is the Stine who is the mom of Dagny. She loves nice things, organic stuff, just like me--and she sewed us this duvet cover with animals all over it. It's so sweet. Here it is with a duvet inside. I was always sort of a European sleeper, but after a year in Norway I am fully converted to the no-top-sheet routine, and looks like our baby will be too.
Last but not least: a lovely wool sweater my mom knit, complete with hat and GIANT pompom. This sweater might fall into the category of things you dress your children in that they would be not caught dead wearing themselves, if they knew how goofy they looked.
And here, friends, is my big contribution to the baby effort. Fabric breast pads, to stop leakage. Triple-layered cotton batting for extra absorption.
What can I say? I'm pretty crafty.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Could people see those photos?
I had a weird paranoid moment when some woman I've never met, named simply "Kate," added my picasa album as one of her favorites, so I made my albums unpublic--but in the past, people to whom I've given the link could look at my unlisted albums anyway. A friend said she couldn't see my pics--can anyone else? Let me know if not and I'll make them public again, Kate be damned. There are some good ones.
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