A Fig in Sweden Portland

pretty please, with sprinkles on top?

Photos by Mrs. French (Bliss blog)

I'm not sure they advocate this in parenting books, but we have resorted to bribes and threats.

"Sophie, if you don't eat more dinner, we're turning Ponyo off."

"Sophie, come here, please, we're late for school. No? OK, then no animal." (She brings an animal friend to school.)

"Sophie, do you want a cupcake? Then eat your chicken."

That last one came out of Lewis' mouth last night at dinner. I gave him an invisible parental high five for that one! We had passed this awesome-looking cupcake place, Saint Cupcake Deluxe, on our way to the restaurant. I thought to myself, that is a bribe I can fully support because there's something in it for mommy, too!

I was lured in by the cute cupcakes, but once inside I fell in love with the decor. So simple and colorful. See more on the Bliss blog post.

This new parenting strategy is probably so wrong, but it works so well. And it was so yummy.

sweet dreams, sweet girl

I had been looking for froggy all day. I found him as I was getting ready for bed.

we're not in sweden anymore

There are lots of things I miss about Sweden, particularly when it comes to kids. First of all, it is dang hard to find toddler socks with those rubber stickies on the bottom. Is it due to the propensity of wall-to-wall carpet here? Whatever the reason, we have a hell of a time finding socks that don't send Sophie slipping and sliding all over our wood floors. Probably what's #1 on my miss list is Swedish children's clothing shops. If Lindex shipped to Sweden, I would be all over it. Fortunately there is a glimmer of hope with all the hip baby clothes available in Portland, like the adorable onesie above.

Also battling for the #1 spot right now: I really miss the Swedish laid-back attitude toward pregnancy. I found a great midwife clinic here that's actually in walking distance from our house. And it's like an English-speaking version of my Swedish experience. BUT we had our 20-week ultrasound at the hospital on Monday, and the doctor was the epitomy of everything I imagined with an American pregnancy. First, the exam took 2 hours versus 20 minutes tops in Sweden. They looked for EVERYTHING. Good in one sense, but bad in another, which I will expand on in a minute.

After the technician did the initial screen for over an hour, a doctor came in to give us the results. She introduced herself and then asked a series of questions like, "Are you working with a genetic counselor?" and "Have you opted out of getting any genetic tests like an amniocentesis." Looking like a deer in headlights, I finally asked her, "Is there a reason you are asking me all these questions? Should I be concerned?" She said that no, it's just something she asks all women of my age. Over 35. WTF???!!

In Sweden, I asked my midwife if there were any special tests that I would get because of my age (also over 35 back then). She kind of gave me the look of "why?" And then said, no, there wasn't anything to be concerned about with my age. She said if we wanted any special tests we would have to go to a private doctor ... it wasn't part of the normal Swedish system.

Anyway, back to my U.S. anatomy scan ... they found something strange. She didn't really know what it was, which was kind of comforting since it didn't point to anything being wrong. But I have been more nervous than excited for the past two days. Thankfully, I got a little more clarity from my midwife today who said that it seems totally benign and is probably part of normal development. And that it wasn't until recently that we really started looking at the baby with such scrutiny — now we're finding stuff and are like what the heck is that? On one hand, it's great that we have such sophisticated tests and tools to look at stuff (like being able to find out we're having a boy!), but then it just makes you super-obsessed about every little thing you find. This thing they found is the size of a pinhead!

I know you can't have it all, but if someone could just give me my Swedish baby clothes shops and Swedish medical system, I would be a much happier Portlander. Tack.

sunshiny, seafoody seattle

We woke up with the idea of eating out for breakfast. Instead we drove 2.5 hours to Seattle. And what a great day we picked to do it — the first full sunny day in 4 weeks there apparently!

It was our first little getaway since Sophie and I arrived in October. And even though it was only for the day, it was pinch-ourselves awesome. How cool to have such a fun city in day-trip distance.

We started with the obligatory trip to Pike Place Market, where we took in the sights, devoured a cup of fresh dungeness crab and watched a fun bluegrass band, Squirrel Butter, outside the original Starbucks. Then we drove up to the Ballard neighborhood to have lunch at Ray's Cafe. Heaven. Just like our uncle Dick and aunt Kristin had their favorite Parisian places that they hit on *every* visit, we plan to make Ray's our regular Seattle lunch spot. We stood out on the deck overlooking the Puget Sound and the Olympic Mountains while waiting for a table to open up. The setting was just amazing, and so was the food. (In related news, it appears Sophie is not allergic to shellfish!) Later, I embraced my Pacific Northwest self and picked up a blueberry bush at a Whole Foods plant sale, and then we hit the REI flagship store (possibly the highlight for Sophie since they had an amazing play area) before driving back to Portland. 

Even the bestest French toast ever couldn't have topped this day.

 

the long swedish winter ain't looking so bad right now

I should have paid more attention in my college geology class. The part where they explained subduction zones and how they produce the most destructive earthquakes. And how there's one running down the entire Pacific Northwest coast — the Cascadia subduction zone. The last time it quaked was in 1700, so we're due. It could happen next week or after we're long gone.

I started putting two and two together on Saturday when I realized that 3 sides of the Pacific ring of fire have had big events this year. First New Zealand, then Chile and then Japan. We sit on the remaining, yet-to-quake side.

Where have we moved to??!! Just then the hardship of the cold, dark winter in Sweden seemed comparably better. I mean months of freezing temperatures won't reduce a house to rubble.

And, then, just as I was coming to terms with the risk of living in an earthquake zone, radiation started leaking from those Japanese nuclear reactors. Suddenly 5,000 miles of ocean didn't seem like it was far enough. I made the mistake of Googling the risk of radiation reaching the West Coast. By the time Lewis came home that night, I was already mulling over the idea of driving East.

Thankfully rational thoughts prevailed. (Don't get me wrong: I'm still glued to any and all nuclear news and I signed up for the EPA's RadNet last night so I can monitor radiation levels myself.) Instead of completely panicking, I called our insurance company and signed up for an earthquake rider. And I started an emergency kit.

I told Lewis last night that life was so much simpler before that earthquake happened a week ago. He reminded me that all those poor people in Japan are thinking the same thing.

where sidewalk fun begins

A $5 box of sidewalk chalk...

A used Radio Flyer scooter found on Craigslist for $10...

And now I'm selling stuff on Craigslist to feel less guilty about forking over $129 for the ultimate sidewalk fun-maker: The Raleigh Lil' Push balance bike, which she fell in love with at REI.

Seriously, this is the one area where "keeping up with the Joneses" seems to get to me. It has nothing to do with outdoing the neighbors — all the kids around here have loads of sidewalk toys, and I feel like Sophie is definitely deprived in the outdoor play department. I've found that recently I can't resist wanting to get her everything. Part of it is seeing her face light up when she's tried the neighbors' scooters, trikes and bikes. And part of it is just loving that we are already enjoying 60-degree, sunny weather (in between the rainy days) and wanting to be out in it.

Is this tendency to spoil an American thing? Nah, I don't think so. I think it's purely parental. It's just a hell of a lot easier to indulge her here.

QT with or without our cutie

A few weeks ago, I told Lewis that I thought we should look into hiring a babysitter so we could have our first night out since Sophie was born. After all, it seems like we moved smack dab into the middle of babysitter central, with babysitting teens on all sides of us.

Lewis' response surprised me, mainly because I thought I was the big worrywart in the family. He said, "I don't feel comfortable with anyone but family watching Sophie." But what about the preschool teachers who watch her three days a week? "They're trained to take care of young kids," he said.

Fair enough. I can't say I really feel 100% comfortable with a random 15-year-old watching Sophie. She's only 3, and lately she's been extra clutsy – taking at least one bad fall a day. Growth spurt, maybe? Anyway ... yes, a part of me felt deflated that Lewis and I wouldn't get a chance to spend a nice evening together, but I also agreed with him when it came to Sophie's well-being.

Then, like a gift from the heavens, Sophie's preschool sent out a date-night email signup a few days later. I forwarded it to Lewis and said, "We are going OUT!!!!!!!" He replied, "OMG!"

Our big night was Saturday night. I made dinner reservations at a hip nuevo latino restaurant, Oba, and did hours of research to figure out what movie we could squeeze in beforehand. It was going to be Black Swan.

Yes, "going to be." Because when we woke up on Saturday morning, Sophie was coughing up a storm. I admit it, I sulked most of the morning. And when Lewis said what I was already thinking — that perhaps she wasn't well enough to go and we should cancel — I cried. I went for a walk in the park and clung to my last bit of hope that Sophie would wake up from her nap in better shape. Instead she was barking like a seal. It was a no-brainer ... I called her school and the restaurant to cancel.

I thought it could help the inflammation in her throat if we took a walk outside in the moist air. So, for an hour, we explored our neighborhood and walked by a house we had been outbid on (blessing in disguise) and admired some of our neighbors' homes and gardens. And you know what's funny? That hour was the highlight of my weekend. It may not have been the exact kind of quality time I had in mind for the evening, but it was quality time nonetheless. And maybe that's what really matters?