Farsdag

I går fikk pappaen i huset sove lenge (helt til klokka åtte!) men jeg stod opp med barna. Lillemor tegnet pappa på farsdagskortet, med de viktigste detaljene; blå øyne, ører, hake og bein. Knerten tygde på konvolutten.

Og i beste husmorånd lagde vi jentene kanelsnurrer til gutta, og de ble faktisk veldig gode! Og veldig lett for ei som ikke kan så altfor mye på kjøkkenet… Oppskriften fant jeg på Det Søte Liv.

KANELSNURRER

Du trenger

  • 50 g gjær
  • 150 g smør
  • 5 dl melk
  • 1 egg
  • 1,5 dl sukker
  • 15 dl hvetemel
  • Fyll:

  • 100 g smør
  • 1 dl sukker
  • 2 ss kanel
  • Pynt:

  • 1 egg til pensling
  • perlesukker

Du gjør:

Smelte smør og varme melken i samme kasserolle til blandigen er lunken. Smuldre gjæren i en bakebolle, ha litt av smørmelken i og bland til gjæren er oppløst. Tilsett resten av væsken, lett sammenpisket egg og sukker. Bland i det meste av melet til en jevn deig. La heve tildekket i ca. 40 minutter.

Kjevle ut deigen på lett melet til en rektangulær leiv som er ca. 1 cm tykk. Smør på mykt smør (jeg brukte lettmargarin). Dryss over sukker og kanel. Rull leiven sammen fra langsiden til en fast rull. Skjær rullen i skiver som legges på bakepapirdekkede stekeplater. Etterhev bollene i 20 min.

Stek bollene midt i ovnen ved 220°C i 12 min.

Nam nam! Flaks at storesøster og lillebror hadde spist frokost da bollene kom ut av ovnen, for det var ikke snakk om noe annen mat etterpå 😉

Gratulerer med fast stilling!

En dag i 2008 hadde Mannen fått nok av den jobben han hadde. Det var en fast stilling som han lenge hadde likt, men av flere årsaker ikke lenger ønsker å være i. Og i fire år har han hatt to stillinger som vikar eller engasjement, og i går fikk vi den gode nyheten om at han hadde fått fast stilling. Herregud, så deilig! 😀 Det er den samme stillingen som han har hatt i over et år nå, men engasjementet går ut i morgen, så vi var mildt sagt lykkelige for å få beskjeden i går ettermiddag. Det er to vidt forskjellige hverdager å ha fast stilling 100 % og være arbeidsledig.

Sprett sjampanjen og nyt biffen!

Eller som vi gjorde: Drakk Cola og grillet burgere. Jaja, sånn er livet som småbarnsforeldre. Vi skal dra ut å feire om ikke så lenge 🙂

Hvis han fikk jobben lovte han å bake kake og ta med på jobben, så da vi fikk vite at jobben var hans spurte han: «Så, hvilken kake kan du lage?» Mannfolk, ass.

Gratulerer så mye med fast stilling, kjære mannen min! Du som har vanskeligheter med å holde øynene åpne når jeg tar bilder fordi blitzen er så skarp. Du er nå søt. Barna våre kommer til å lure på hvorfor pappa alltid ser så sløv ut på bilder, og da skal de få høre om nettene de har holdt oss våkne.

Bomullsbryllup

Kjære Mannen min!

I dag for to år siden sto vi i en varm bakgård i Lisboa, nervøse og glade. Jeg hadde litt problemer med å få på ringen din fordi jeg skalv på hendene, og varmen gjorde at vi kanskje kunne trengt litt større diameter på ringene enn da vi prøvde de i butikken 🙂

Det var bare oss to, lillemor i magen, og foreldrene våre der, men jeg synes det var helt perfekt. Nesten sånn vi hadde forestilt oss det et halvt år i forveien da vi forlovet oss. Det manglet bare en strand og blomster i håret 😉

I dag har vi ingen planer om å feire — vi skal pakke, pakke, pakke, og slappe av med god mat og en film. Vi får heller ta det igjen til neste år 😀 Kjempeglad i deg, kjære! Du er best!

Mwah!

Jeg savner midjen min

Ikke at den var den flotteste eller fantastisk bra, men den var i hvert fall der. Jeg har nevnt det til Mannen at jeg savner den, men han har bare trekt på skuldrene, og så har samtalen liksom vært over.

Her om dagen da jeg gikk ut av rommet sa han plutselig: «Du har jo midje! I hvert fall bakfra!»
Jasså? «Mener du dette?» spurte jeg og pekte på den delen som er smalest på overkroppen.
«Ja!» svarte han entusiastisk, før han spurte forsiktig: «Er det ikke midjen din?»
Nei, kjære mannen min, det er ikke midjen min. Det er brystkassen min — den eneste delen av overkroppen min som ikke har blåst opp, og derfor er der jeg er smaleste akkurat nå. Men du skal ha for forsøket…

På navneleting igjen…

«Er Ariel også et guttenavn i USA?» spurte jeg Mannen mens jeg så gjennom en liste over populære guttenavn.
Han, litt distré mens han kjørte bil og så på veien: «Men het ikke den sjøhesten Ariel?»

Hm.

Valentinsdag

I dag er det to år siden jeg kom sliten hjem fra jobb og fant denne lappen på kjøkkendøra:

Jeg kastet meg på sofaen mens Mannen, som da var Samboern, lagde meg middag, og jeg ikke hadde noen anelse om at det var mer enn bare middag.

Kjære mannen min! Jeg elsker deg! Kjempeglad for at du hadde plukket ut en ring til meg og fridde 😀

What I know about Emmy

It’s strange how time flies when you have a baby. I can’t believe Emmy is 2 weeks tomorrow! I’m in a daze, and the hours just fly by. I actually use this app on my iPhone called Total Baby to keep track of when I last breast-fed. Crazy.

Anyway, 13 days to get to know Emmy, and this is what I’ve learned:

  1. She likes to hold on to her ear.
  2. She has really smelly poop. I mean, I was told baby poop was more or less odourless, but that’s a lie. A LIE!
  3. She doesn’t like to take baths. So far. She’ll learn to love it 😉
  4. She doesn’t mind the dogs’ wet noses. So far.
  5. She gets angry if her mommy is taking her time when she wants the boob.
  6. She doesn’t like to get weight. All I can say is she’s a girl, what did you expect?
  7. She’s breaking my heart when she’s crying.
  8. She makes the most adorable sounds.
  9. She also makes the most hilarious grimaces.
  10. She is strong.
  11. When she lies on her side she likes to rest her head on her fist. her tiny, tiny fist. Tiiiny.
  12. She likes to sleep with her arms up by her head.
  13. She hiccups when she’s on daddy’s lap. We have no idea of why.
Husband with Emmy, 9 days old.

Pappa og Em

The birth story of Emmy

This is a warning that 1) It’s gonna be a looong entry, and 2) I’m not sure I’d want to read this if I was pregnant… At least now you were warned.

So, as I blogged about before, we got an appointment at the hospital for inducing labour on Dec 29th. My blood pressure was very high so the doctors were worried, but I didn’t have any subjective symptoms. So we met up at 9 AM and I got pills (I guess they were prostaglandins) in my you-know-what at 9:30 AM, 1:30 PM and 4:30 PM to induce labour. As nothing really happened, we decided to just sleep through the night and see how I was in the morning as I needed the sleep. At 10 PM I was starting to have contractions, and I was getting a last checkup before the night when I told the midwife that if the contractions didn’t slow down or got less painful I’d need something to help me sleep through the night. She told me I’d need a new checkup if she was going to give me anything, and it turned out that I now had a dilated cervix of 4 cm, plus a sky high blood pressure, so she needed to break my water. She told me to take a shower and get ready to go to the delivery room.

Husband was timing my contractions, and I remember thinking that if they hurt this much now, then I wasn’t sure if I could do without any pain medication. So I went to the bathroom to pee, and while sitting there, my water broke. This was at 11:30 PM. I managed to take a shower, which is supposed to give some pain relief, but I didn’t feel any difference, really. And then the contractions was lasting about one minute with intervals of 25 seconds. If you were wondering: NOT GOOD. I hardly had any time to breathe between two contractions and all I could do was squeeze Husband’s hand. I was almost crawling to the delivery room, and I’m not sure how long we were there, breathing through the contractions like I’d learned at preggie yoga, when the midwife, who had been asking me several times if I wanted an epidural (and I had told her no every time), grabbed my hand and told me that she was now calling the anaesthetist to get me one, cause I couldn’t go on with the high blood pressure and the close contractions too long. I just nodded my head as I didn’t feel like talking at all, and all I could do was whisper: «Oh, here comes another one…» to Husband who probably was pretty numb from me squeezing him.

The anaesthetist had to give me the epidural during contractions as they came so close, and I was terrified that it would hurt or that she’d do it wrong if I flinched, but I could hardly feel it. I remember wondering why she was yelling at me asking if I was a hemophiliac or had any allergies, but I was only whispering through the contractions so she probably thought I was in my own world. Which I almost was. But still. Anyway, the epidural worked wonders, and soon I was feeling normal again. The downside was, of course, that it slowed down eeeverything. So we were awake during the entire night, chatting, trying to sleep, eating an apple, drinking lots and lots of fluids, and vomiting it all up again. I had checkups at least once every hour, my cervix slowly dilated up to 8-9 cm, and at about 10 AM they decided the baby had to get out because my blood pressure continued to rise.

So the midwife called on a doctor to check the position of the baby, and of course she was a stargazer, meaning that if I lie on my back, she’d be looking up, which meant that her head would be harder to push out. Great. They tried to get an ultrasound to confirm it, but it was hard since her head was in my pelvic area 😛 So they decided to try to push her out if my blood pressure could handle it. So I tried. I first tried standing up as I remembered a colleague saying she’d refuse to do it any other way with her next child, but then the baby’s heart rate dropped, so I had to try lying down. Better for the baby, worse for me, cause we weren’t going anywhere. So after 35 minutes of pushing (and because of the epidural, I didn’t have any urges to push, I could only slightly feel a change in the contractions even though they gave me less epidural and more i.v. fluids to get contractions) the doctor came in to use a ventouse. Oh lord. The ventouse cup was too large (too much information, you say?) for me so they had to do an episiotomy to get it on the head. I looked at Husband, terrified, as I realized what they were doing, and said: «They’re cutting me!» and he looked pale and answered: «I know.» It didn’t hurt though, because of the epidural, plus they gave me local anaesthetics too, but I was horrified.

At least with the ventouse I felt how I was supposed to push, because all I had to work with before was the midwife who told me to push almost like when you poop. Well, okay, what’s almost? And when I did she’d go: «Yes, just like that!» Anyway, I think I pushed about 12 times until they got the little wonder out. The doctor was almost in a horizontal position pulling the baby out. At this time I was exhausted, and I fell half asleep every second. I got little Emmy, covered in blood, on my chest for about 5 seconds until the midwife told us that she was a little bit weak and she needed to take her. I noticed that she didn’t scream, but was told earlier by others who had had a baby that it takes some time before they scream, and I shouldn’t be afraid if my baby didn’t scream the second she got out.

Well, it turned out that she didn’t breathe on her own. She had a heartbeat, but was given oxygen for several minutes to help her breathe. I remember either going in and out of consciousness or sleep, still don’t know which, when they came in with her again and gave her to Husband. By that time I had lost more than a liter blood, my fingertips were turning blue and my blood pressure was dropping from 180/90-ish to 70/50, which is kind of, ehm, bad. I remember that I was shaking, but had also been told by a co-worker that she was shaking after she had had the baby, but a woman was trying to insert a venous catheter in my other arm and was telling me to keep still. And there were about 10 people in the room, running around, asking me questions like: «Can you feel this?», «How do you feel?» (the answer being: «Cold.») and «Hanna, can you hear me?», and I remember Husband crying, and I thought it was tears of joy, but he later told me he was afraid I would die.

I was sent to post-op observation for an hour or so, while Husband was with Emmy. And each time someone asked me how I was feeling I answered: «Thirsty.» And I must have asked that poor nurse a hundred times after something to drink, cause when I was awake and she came in and I was trying to wet my tongue in my non-existing saliva, she just said: «I’m sorry, but you can’t have anything to drink, yet.»

At least this story ends well, I got a visit from the proud dad and my daughter until he had to go home to take Aurora for a walk, and I had to rest for another two hours until I could see them again, but Emmy is well, and I had given birth without pain, so it was Husband who had the worst experience. He now doesn’t want me to give birth the normal way, but I’m opposed to cesarean sections if it’s not medically indicated, but we’ll have a while to figure that out 😉 What I do know is that I want more children 😀

You normally spend 3 days at the hospital here before you go home, but since it was New Years Eve the day after, I tried to convince the midwife to let me go earlier, but they wanted to take blood samples and monitor my blood pressure. New Years Eve was quiet. We were looking at the fireworks from our room, which had huuuge windows, while I was breastfeeding Emmy. Quite special for us 😉

I hugged Husband for a long time today. You kinda forget to take time for your man when you have a one-week-old demanding all your time. He didn’t hug me right back, just held his arms around me, and whispered: «I’m afraid you’ll break.» It broke my heart. He must have been through hell that morning.

Emmy, 4 days old

Induction

I was hoping little Baby Doe decided to say hello to the world on her official due date which was Dec 27th, but that didn’t happen. I did, however, have some contractions that didn’t go anywhere.

So we went to the checkup today. First I had another cardiotocography, which was fine, did an ultrasound that was fine (the baby’s weight was estimated to 3500 grams, that’s, btw, a bit scary as it was estimated to 3200 grams on the last ultrasound Dec 22nd), but the proteinuria was at 3+ and I still had a high blood pressure, so after a nasty pelvic exam (stripping my membranes) he told us I had preeclampsia, and I was going to get induced tomorrow.

It depends on what happens tonight, if the stripping helped, but I’m going to be a mom either tomorrow or the day after tomorrow! 😀 Poor Baby being born at the end of the year though. At least now I have no reason for «holding her in» until New Years like everybody’s told me to 😛

I’m actually quite calm about it all. I kind of had a feeling they would induce me today, so it wasn’t such a shock for me, but Husband is a bit freaked out here now. I love him!

Week #39: And while we’re still waiting…

I can’t believe it’s Christmas next week! I’ve been so caught up in all this pregnancy thingies that I’ve totally forgotten that what we’re also counting down to is Christmas Eve. We bought a Christmas tree last week, and Husband decorated it like only a German can. I mean, they are so much better than us Norwegian with decorating a Christmas tree.

Anyway, we’ve already put the presents under it, and Rora is checking them every now and then. It’s funny how half of the gifts are for the baby even though we don’t even know if she’s born by Christmas Eve 🙂 Fortunately I’ve gotten all the presents shipped on time so I don’t have to do the usual panic shopping this year.

But you know what else? I’m REALLY looking forward to be a mom, and not be pregnant, and to lose some weight and have our little girl in our arms. Really, really. I’ve tried everything said to help induce labor: Cleaning windows, walking up steps (two at a time), eating cinnamon and licorice, acupressure, that sex thing, spicy food, pinapple(?) and walking.

Pleeeaaase, Santa, I’ve been good this year!