happy birthday marta!

Tallinn, Estonia - Dec. 31, 2003 (Marta is one day old):


Port Jefferson, NY - Dec. 30, 2004 (Marta is one year old):


Hoboken, NJ - December 2005 (Marta is two years old):


Setauket, NY - Dec. 30, 2006 (Marta is three years old):



Setauket, NY - Dec. 30, 2007 (Marta is four years old):


Tartu, Estonia - Dec. 30, 2008 (Marta is five years old):

tuttoo tlott

Anna broke my parents' cuckoo clock yesterday. But Anna doesn't say cuckoo clock. She says 'tuttoo tlott,' because she replaces all 'k' sounds with 't's. This sounds quite funny in Estonian. She doesn't said kaelkirjak tuli tagasi (the giraffe came back), she says 'taeltirjat tuli tatasi.' She doesn't say, 'Issi, come here,' she says, 'Issi, tome here.' Poor Anna. Epp's aunt Reeli said that her son Tommi was three when he started making the differences between 'k's and 't's. Good thing his name is Tommi and not Karl or Kalle or something like that.

c'mon barbie, let's go party

I guess it was bound to happen that Marta discovered the song "Barbie Girl" by Aqua. She's been singing it for days.

I'm a Barbie girl in the Barbie world
Life in plastic, it's fantastic
You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere
Imagination, life is your creation

I have a funny relationship with this song. In 1997, when it was released, I was working in a music store. And people used to come in and ask for the single "Barbie Girl." They usually had a strange look in their eyes, like they were a bit mad, and they would say something like, "I just can't get that song out of my head. I have to buy it."

I knew then that the song was very dangerous. I was afraid that if I too heard "Barbie Girl," then I would get the same look in my eye and wind up buying the single just because I couldn't get the song out of my head. And so years passed without me hearing the song. If it came on the radio, I would quickly change the station. And even when I heard it, years later, its effectiveness had worn off, and I paid it little attention.

But then Marta discovered it, and now I really can't get its vapid lyrics out of my head. It's taking me back, way back to 1997. I know that doesn't seem like a long time ago, but Martha, Marta's babysitter, said the song came out when she was a little girl. And Martha is 15, which means that she was only about three years old back then. She really was a little girl. For some, songs like these create feelings of nostalgia.

mr. mom

I've been the only parent running the show for the past few days. Epp went to paastulaager, fasting camp, where they drink tea and get massages and do yoga. Each day my alarm goes off at 7 am. I rise, make fires in the furnaces, clean up all the mess from the previous night, sweep the floors, do the dishes, and get the place presentable for school. Then I wake the girls up. Anna gets up first and she only whimpers. I potty her, dress her, and get her some breakfast. Marta sleeps like a log. I usually have to pull her out of bed and force the clothes on her.

Here's a fun exercise. Name three good things about your kid and three bad things about him or her. Marta: Marta is creative, boisterous, and trusting (she hugs nuns, what else can I say). BUT, Marta is also bossy, loud, and self absorbed ("You said something? Oh, I'm sorry, I was watching my movie.") Anna: Anna is cheerful, sensitive, and loves good food. BUT, she's also known to hit with a fierce karate chop, possessive (It's mine!), and fussy (I didn't want to drink from the yellow cup, I wanted to drink from the white cup!)

These are my children. I think they will remember me as part fun and part edgy. I can lose my temper with them if things get out of hand. Like in the car after we dropped off Epp. Marta kept whining and whining and whining and whining about some new toy she couldn't figure out. And I kept telling her that, I'm sorry, but I am driving, and I can't help you. But she kept whining and whining and whining until Mt. Vesuvius erupted and I had to yell "shut up, goddamnit!" just to get my point across. Then she cried and I said I was sorry. See - at least I say I'm sorry. And you know, later on, Marta told me to shut up! Kids are always learning.

Most nights I've indulged myself by making them food. The first night was an attempt at "pasta calabrese" -- I mixed some spicy cayenne pepper in to the sauce and added olives. I also made fried zucchini -- you mix parmesan cheese with bread crumbs, dip the zucchini slice in whipped egg, put it in the mix, and fry it in olive oil. Oh my God, so delicious. I'm definitely making that again. Last night we had some "pollo a la playa" - chicken doused in garlic and lemon juice, potatoes, and fried onions. That was ok. Just ok. Tonight, I tried "pasta siciliana" -- eggplants and peppers, mmm. Very good. They even asked for more. See, I'm not a bad dad, even if I lose it sometimes.

At night, we watch movies or read books and then, when I am tired, it's lights out. And they actually go to sleep. It's hard to do basic things, though. Complicated things too. Imagine this: I managed to get the car inspected, do the laundry and put it away, clean the upstairs bedrooms, take Anna and pick up Marta. drop them off at Elo's, go to school and talk about media regulation (while proofing articles for my job on my laptop), pick up the girls, walk home, take the car, drive to the office, load the car with books for tomorrow's trip to Tallinn, come home, make pasta, finish proofing, serve and clean up dinner, and bake a cake (and write a blog post about it). All within a few hours. How crazy can a person be? That's just what it's like being Mr. Mom.