A funny thing I have noticed about my children: one sleeps longer than the other. And they have different "morning moods." Anna typically wakes up before Marta. She lifts her little blond head and says, "ciao" and smiles. Marta, though, snoozes on. She never wants to get out of bed. I try to get up her up nicely ("please Marta, you'll be late for school"), then I get a little more firm ("you've got to get up now"), and then finally I'll probably just drag her out of bed.
I think I am more like Marta when it comes to sleep. Sleep is like a powerful narcotic. There is no better feeling that opening your eye in the morning and seeing that you can rest 30 minutes more under your warm covers. Maybe Anna is more like Epp. She has more energy in the morning and needs less sleep. But Epp can be a sleepy head too, and I make the coffee some mornings. So maybe it's hard to stereotype people. Every day is different.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
pasta petrone
I made dinner last night. Whenever I get the chance, I make pasta for my children. My recipe started with chopped onions and garlic in olive oil. Then I added sliced zucchini, diced carrots, and pignoli (pine nuts).
Sometimes I think about where I would live if I was all alone, and I always come back to this idea of the Italian urban neighborhood, where they sell stuff like pignoli at the corner store. Then I think that if I really did live in such a place, I'd get really fat, because I'd be eating cannolis with every meal.
Anyway, my favorite pasta is spaghetti. I know, how boring. But all other pastas to me seem like wannabe spaghetti. Vermicelli is like spaghetti, but too thin. Fettuccini is too thick. But spaghetti? Spaghetti is just right. The only other pasta I love as much as spaghetti is gnocchi and they are so different that they do not compete.
I like the tricolore spaghetti the most. To me, pasta should look appetizing. It should be colorful. It shouldn't just be white pasta and red sauce. That's why I put the carrot in, too, though it adds a new dimension to the taste. Occassionally, I add pesto too. I favor the Genovese pesto over pesto rosso for some reason. It's smoother.
So we are happy eaters in our home. The only problem is that I have no idea what to call my recipe. I just call all pasta dishes I make "Pasta Petrone." But if you went to any Italian restaurant, you couldn't order it. It's a homemade pasta dish.
Sometimes I think about where I would live if I was all alone, and I always come back to this idea of the Italian urban neighborhood, where they sell stuff like pignoli at the corner store. Then I think that if I really did live in such a place, I'd get really fat, because I'd be eating cannolis with every meal.
Anyway, my favorite pasta is spaghetti. I know, how boring. But all other pastas to me seem like wannabe spaghetti. Vermicelli is like spaghetti, but too thin. Fettuccini is too thick. But spaghetti? Spaghetti is just right. The only other pasta I love as much as spaghetti is gnocchi and they are so different that they do not compete.
I like the tricolore spaghetti the most. To me, pasta should look appetizing. It should be colorful. It shouldn't just be white pasta and red sauce. That's why I put the carrot in, too, though it adds a new dimension to the taste. Occassionally, I add pesto too. I favor the Genovese pesto over pesto rosso for some reason. It's smoother.
So we are happy eaters in our home. The only problem is that I have no idea what to call my recipe. I just call all pasta dishes I make "Pasta Petrone." But if you went to any Italian restaurant, you couldn't order it. It's a homemade pasta dish.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
yellow submarine
'How's the weather there?' Gray, moist, windy. Autumn. We still have more apples, though. Always more apples. Yesterday was the first day since being ill that I lost my cool. I feel like too many people are demanding things from me -- and I mean little people.
Marta usually wants something to eat or for me to program the TV the right way. She wanted to watch Casper the Friendly Ghost. I don't know why, but she has a thing for Casper. The film is even dubbed; it sounds awful. She has a cold. Maybe somehow related to my illness.
Anna wants veel pommi - it should be veel kommi -- 'more candy.' She replaces the 'k' sound with a 'p' sound. She just lives for candy, or chewable vitamin C tablets. Both girls are very independent and demanding, especially in the evenings -- they just demand to have their needs met, whether it is having another vitamin C or watching a certain program. Anna has even kicked water at me from the tub. You could say she has a bad temper.
I thought girls were supposed to be nice and sweet, but then I remember my lessons from elementary school: they only look nice and sweet. in all other ways, they can be quite mean. They'll even kick water at you.
Last night, I fell asleep reading to Anna. I was showing her pictures from the illustrated childrens version of Yellow Submarine. She likes to curl up in the nook of my armpit and fall asleep with her head resting a bit on my chest. See, little girls aren't so bad afterall.
Marta usually wants something to eat or for me to program the TV the right way. She wanted to watch Casper the Friendly Ghost. I don't know why, but she has a thing for Casper. The film is even dubbed; it sounds awful. She has a cold. Maybe somehow related to my illness.
Anna wants veel pommi - it should be veel kommi -- 'more candy.' She replaces the 'k' sound with a 'p' sound. She just lives for candy, or chewable vitamin C tablets. Both girls are very independent and demanding, especially in the evenings -- they just demand to have their needs met, whether it is having another vitamin C or watching a certain program. Anna has even kicked water at me from the tub. You could say she has a bad temper.
I thought girls were supposed to be nice and sweet, but then I remember my lessons from elementary school: they only look nice and sweet. in all other ways, they can be quite mean. They'll even kick water at you.
Last night, I fell asleep reading to Anna. I was showing her pictures from the illustrated childrens version of Yellow Submarine. She likes to curl up in the nook of my armpit and fall asleep with her head resting a bit on my chest. See, little girls aren't so bad afterall.
Friday, September 25, 2009
sick/well
Being sick is painful, but it can also be a humbling experience. All other problems of the world are replaced by very physical problems -- tonsillitis, fevers, aches, pains. You feel as if God himself was beating the crap out of you, just to show you who's the boss. Ok, God, you win.
People are nice to you when you are sick. Epp made me teas and helped take my temperature. I fell in love with her again. Isn't it nice to have a spouse? Isn't it nice to have someone there to bring you more Theraflu? My parents were also concerned. Like they say on the soap operas, 'after all this time, after all we've been through,' they still care.
When you start to feel better, you are peaceful. You haven't watched the news in days. You aren't up to date on your e-mail. No one really expects anything from you. You worry -- Am I going to lose this tranquil feeling? Will all it take is feeling well again and some coffee to make life so crazy again?
I've decided, I'm going to take it easy from now on, sick or well. I may be six-foot-something, but I am still a fragile organism. I need to take it easy. I think the people around me will appreciate being around me more if I just take it easy too.
People are nice to you when you are sick. Epp made me teas and helped take my temperature. I fell in love with her again. Isn't it nice to have a spouse? Isn't it nice to have someone there to bring you more Theraflu? My parents were also concerned. Like they say on the soap operas, 'after all this time, after all we've been through,' they still care.
When you start to feel better, you are peaceful. You haven't watched the news in days. You aren't up to date on your e-mail. No one really expects anything from you. You worry -- Am I going to lose this tranquil feeling? Will all it take is feeling well again and some coffee to make life so crazy again?
I've decided, I'm going to take it easy from now on, sick or well. I may be six-foot-something, but I am still a fragile organism. I need to take it easy. I think the people around me will appreciate being around me more if I just take it easy too.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
older
So I'll be 30 in about two months. It doesn't sound that old to some people. In comparison, my 90-year-old grandma was 30 back in 1948. If I live as long as her, this could be the beginning, a sort of prolonged youth.
Today was what could be thought of as a normal day. Marta to school in the AM. Anna's scholastic future undecided. If we only watched her, she'd wind up getting tutored by Elmo and Harold all the time because life demands we be online. Anna loves Elmo. I like him too. He's a funny fuzzy red little guy. So I envision something more cooperative for her. She's still so small. Only 2 years and 2 months.
I watch the American health care debate from afar. People ask me at conferences, why doesn't America cover everyone, like everywhere else. I tell them, the private insurance companies are very influential, and politicians depend on them for their livelihood. There you have it.
My kids are refreshingly apolitical. Marta knows that Obama is president. That's it. She has no memory of Bush. Estonian politics? We have local elections here in a month, but she is blissfully unaware. If she ever catches me watching a political show on TV she tells me to turn it off. She wants to watch H20. I asked her how school was: "Marta, how was school?" "Mmm. I don't know." I remember giving the same answers. How do you respond? What happens in school, stays in school.
Today was what could be thought of as a normal day. Marta to school in the AM. Anna's scholastic future undecided. If we only watched her, she'd wind up getting tutored by Elmo and Harold all the time because life demands we be online. Anna loves Elmo. I like him too. He's a funny fuzzy red little guy. So I envision something more cooperative for her. She's still so small. Only 2 years and 2 months.
I watch the American health care debate from afar. People ask me at conferences, why doesn't America cover everyone, like everywhere else. I tell them, the private insurance companies are very influential, and politicians depend on them for their livelihood. There you have it.
My kids are refreshingly apolitical. Marta knows that Obama is president. That's it. She has no memory of Bush. Estonian politics? We have local elections here in a month, but she is blissfully unaware. If she ever catches me watching a political show on TV she tells me to turn it off. She wants to watch H20. I asked her how school was: "Marta, how was school?" "Mmm. I don't know." I remember giving the same answers. How do you respond? What happens in school, stays in school.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
back in the saddle
Tuesday morning, up at 8 am to begin transcribing more of the 10 interviews I recorded at the conference in Tallinn, then off to Veski to bring Marta to school. Marta seems to be enjoying it. Today, she told me that she wants to be a doctor, so she can "see under people's skin." I actually think it's not a bad career choice -- the world needs doctors, right? Her school is near a Catholic school. She said that sometimes they see the nuns. She didn't know the word though ("You know, they wear black and white.") The kids from the Catholic school and her school play on the same playground. Some even remember her from when she was there a year and a half ago.
Anna still has a little cold and has bandaids on her face so that she doesn't scratch her remaining bug bites as they finally heal for good. I estimate by the end of this week, her cheeks will be all better. Poor little kid.
We talked about Soviet realism in class. One task was to discuss Estonian women's magazines from the 1950s. Did you know that back then, men were not even allowed in the delivery room? Birth seems like it was a very sterile and modern affair to be handled by professionals only.
Anna still has a little cold and has bandaids on her face so that she doesn't scratch her remaining bug bites as they finally heal for good. I estimate by the end of this week, her cheeks will be all better. Poor little kid.
We talked about Soviet realism in class. One task was to discuss Estonian women's magazines from the 1950s. Did you know that back then, men were not even allowed in the delivery room? Birth seems like it was a very sterile and modern affair to be handled by professionals only.
Friday, September 11, 2009
surprises
Yesterday I couldn't find my phone. I called it using our landline. It was in the second drawer of Epp's side of the desk, ie. a small, blonde person probably put it there. Today, it was the same story. I called using the landline, and found it at the bottom of a bag beside the desk. Looks like the same small person hid it on me.
She also hid two apples in my bag, or someone did. My bag still doesn't smell too good, unless smelling like fermented apples is acceptable. You can take the boy out of Tartu, but you can't take the Tartu out of the boy. Or something.
Marta went to Veski today. She was so excited. She even got up early in the morning and begged us to take her there. "But it's not even open yet," we told her. She didn't care. The kasvataja (literally 'grower') asked her "Should I call you Marta or Marta Maria?" and held out her hand. "You can just call me Marta," Marta grinned.
I am here in Tallinn at a conference, but I can still slightly smell those apples. Your family is always with you, I guess.
She also hid two apples in my bag, or someone did. My bag still doesn't smell too good, unless smelling like fermented apples is acceptable. You can take the boy out of Tartu, but you can't take the Tartu out of the boy. Or something.
Marta went to Veski today. She was so excited. She even got up early in the morning and begged us to take her there. "But it's not even open yet," we told her. She didn't care. The kasvataja (literally 'grower') asked her "Should I call you Marta or Marta Maria?" and held out her hand. "You can just call me Marta," Marta grinned.
I am here in Tallinn at a conference, but I can still slightly smell those apples. Your family is always with you, I guess.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
babies
I can't believe it's been a month since my nephew Liam was born. I only met him twice so far (which is more than most of his relatives probably have anyway by this point, I mean he's only a month old), but I have a feeling I know what he's up to -- eating, pooping, sleeping, slowly becoming aware of the vast world around him. He's new. Fresh. Tabula rasa. My hope for him is my hope for everyone -- that he grows up to know himself and live a satisfying life.
Here in Tartu, our friends Tiina and Kristopher welcomed a new daughter this week -- Meia. They have Matilda, Melanie, and now Meia. Three Ms, just a handful of years apart. Our daughters have New Testament names, which is funny, since I am not religious at all (years of being an altar servant kind of killed the mystery). Or maybe I am religious. I just believe in the force. Use the force, young Jedi.
Epp saw little Meia. She said she's very small. I saw Kristopher yesterday. We agreed that he's a tüdruku vabrik -- a daughter factory. Like me, I guess.
The girls are good, though with school and work and life it's hard to sneak quality time with them. Anna played a game with Epp's toes this morning: hernes, hernes, hernes, hernes, uba
(it means, 'pea, pea, pea, pea, bean!'). When you grab the uba, the bean, you grab the pinky toe.
Maša the babysitter took off Marta's bike's training wheels to teach her how to really ride a bike. Maša's a doer. A go-getter. So Marta will learn. It's hard though. I remember.
Here in Tartu, our friends Tiina and Kristopher welcomed a new daughter this week -- Meia. They have Matilda, Melanie, and now Meia. Three Ms, just a handful of years apart. Our daughters have New Testament names, which is funny, since I am not religious at all (years of being an altar servant kind of killed the mystery). Or maybe I am religious. I just believe in the force. Use the force, young Jedi.
Epp saw little Meia. She said she's very small. I saw Kristopher yesterday. We agreed that he's a tüdruku vabrik -- a daughter factory. Like me, I guess.
The girls are good, though with school and work and life it's hard to sneak quality time with them. Anna played a game with Epp's toes this morning: hernes, hernes, hernes, hernes, uba
(it means, 'pea, pea, pea, pea, bean!'). When you grab the uba, the bean, you grab the pinky toe.
Maša the babysitter took off Marta's bike's training wheels to teach her how to really ride a bike. Maša's a doer. A go-getter. So Marta will learn. It's hard though. I remember.
Friday, September 4, 2009
no ducks
Epp went to Tallinn today and I had Anna most of the day because she's still a little sick. Feeling better, she rejoined lasteaed at lunch, but because she slept so late, I took her out during their naptime. First we went to the nearby store and picked up some necessities -- toilet paper, eggs, toothpaste. Then we left those at the house and walked down to the river to find some ducks. But there were no ducks. The river was very low too. Instead, she ran on the beach and played on a little playground. We were the only ones there.
Anna mixes her languages. She has some words she favors over others. She prefers the English word 'apple' to the Estonian word õun. So she might say something like, 'Justin, tule 'iia, apples! (Justin, tule siia (come here) apples!)
Marta went to lasteaed today. It was princess dress-up day and Riinu and her had a great time. Marta has very sensitive hair -- it's very difficult to comb it, she doesn't like it one bit, but I managed to get her dressed and presentable in the morning. She also went to gymnastics today, the first session of the year. Helen, Riinu's mom, took her. I need to buy her new slippers for gymnastics, or maybe she has them somewhere and I just don't know where they are. Any help here would be appreciated.
Marta also makes slight mistakes. The biggest one is that she always says 'that's because' when she explains things. "Marta, why did you slam that door?" "That's because you wouldn't let me watch my show." This is a translation from the Estonian sellepärast. I've tried to correct her, but it hasn't taken root yet. I am not too worried, though. She'll get it.
Anna mixes her languages. She has some words she favors over others. She prefers the English word 'apple' to the Estonian word õun. So she might say something like, 'Justin, tule 'iia, apples! (Justin, tule siia (come here) apples!)
Marta went to lasteaed today. It was princess dress-up day and Riinu and her had a great time. Marta has very sensitive hair -- it's very difficult to comb it, she doesn't like it one bit, but I managed to get her dressed and presentable in the morning. She also went to gymnastics today, the first session of the year. Helen, Riinu's mom, took her. I need to buy her new slippers for gymnastics, or maybe she has them somewhere and I just don't know where they are. Any help here would be appreciated.
Marta also makes slight mistakes. The biggest one is that she always says 'that's because' when she explains things. "Marta, why did you slam that door?" "That's because you wouldn't let me watch my show." This is a translation from the Estonian sellepärast. I've tried to correct her, but it hasn't taken root yet. I am not too worried, though. She'll get it.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
sensitive
If Anna ever looks at photos from the summer of '09, she'll see a lot of bandaids and bugbites. It started months ago. I left her outside to sleep in her stroller, and when I came back she had a few bites on her cheek. Those never really went away, and so she went to the doctor to get special cream to kill the infection. In the US, my mom went to work trying to clean it up with rubbing alcohol, and it was almost better, especially with all that salt water to which she was exposed. But when she got back, she scratched one bite and I put bandaids on her cheeks to keep her from doing it. Now it seems she has an allergic reaction to the glue in the bandaids! So the process of healing her cheeks starts all over again. Yikes.
UPDATE: the mentool piiritus (rubbing alcohol) has helped. Her face already looks better.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
sicky sicky
Anna has transmitted her airplane-acquired cold to Marta, who has a runny nose and all the other things you associate with sick kids. I am not feeling so hot myself. Nothing like looking at a computer screen in the morning and knowing it may be one of the last things you see before you go to sleep. Here's a photo from my blip of a summer vacation. It's Anna on the beach in Cape Cod.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
salmon soup
I managed to pull the photos off that card, but it might be awhile before I upload them anywhere -- it is production day. Today was the first day of lasteaed -- kindergarten. There are six kids Marta (age 5), Riinu (age 5), Ats (age 2.5), Anna (age 2), Kiki (age 2) and Pärtel (age 2). The were all measured for their first day. Marta is the tallest -- she is 119.5 cm. Riinu is 112. Ats is 94.5 cm, Anna is 92 cm, Pärtel is 91 cm, and Kiki (her real name is Kirke) is 90 cm. Anna is a bit tall for her age -- her birthday is in July, but Pärtel is March and Kiki is April (I think).
For dinner, I made salmon soup. Boil two cubes of fish bullion with two carrots and three potatoes in 1 liter of water. When the vegetables are tender add 500 grams of chopped salmon (about half a filet) and a tablespoon of chopped dill. You can turn off the heat, because the salmon cooks so fast -- it took about 5 minutes. I also added salt and pepper to taste. Mämm mämm!
For dinner, I made salmon soup. Boil two cubes of fish bullion with two carrots and three potatoes in 1 liter of water. When the vegetables are tender add 500 grams of chopped salmon (about half a filet) and a tablespoon of chopped dill. You can turn off the heat, because the salmon cooks so fast -- it took about 5 minutes. I also added salt and pepper to taste. Mämm mämm!
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