And neither are my kids.

Skype is great and all, but it’s no substitute for the real thing.

You can’t play baseball on Skype.  You can’t give kisses on Skype.  You can’t help with baths on Skype.

But I’m not one to give up or let depressing things take over.  I’m one for solutions.

And this solution takes the form of a Playmobile Firefighter.

Internet, meet Grandma:

Two days ago, in a flash of brilliance, I asked Moomintroll if he wanted to play baseball with Grandma.  Moomintroll (played by Benjy) enthusiastically agreed!  I searched for the nearest thing to play Grandma, and this is what I found.

Benjy happily accepted this doll as a temporary replacement for the real thing, and everyone- Moomintroll, MoominMamma, MoominPappa, Niisku, Niiskuneiti played baseball with Grandma until it was time for the Moomins to head to sleep.  And even then, Grandma was allowed to sleep with them in their fantastic house.

The awesome AWESOME thing is that Grandma’s firefighter replacement will only be needed for another five days.  Because that’s how soon Grandma will be here!   I can’t wait for my mom to come and see the new digs and spend some days walking around our fabulous new neighborhood.  I’ve ordered sunshine and just enough snow to keep things pretty, but not enough to make walking a chore.  We’ll see if my order is delivered.

However.

This was BENJY’S Christmas.  This was the first Christmas where a child actually understood what was going on.  And I’d wager a bet he had the best. Christmas. Ever.  Of anyone.  Anywhere.  At any time.

Evidence:

Assembling his Foosball table immediately after opening it.  All present-opening halted.  He only had eyes for this:

Opening his Muumitalo- the house where the Moomintrolls live.  Complete with Moomin figurines.  He was ECSTATIC.

Playing cowboy with his new stick pony.

And he looked so dapper through it all.

But of course, all good things must come to an end- even Christmas.  After days of little sleep, a ton of sugar, and even more excitement, it was safe to say Benjy had had too much Christmas.  Witness the Christmas meltdown.

We had a great few days.  But it was great to get back to the normal routines.  Namely daycare.  :)  I hope you all had a happy, happy Christmas.

But skating with Benjy for the first time was magical.  We took turns holding him up.  Took turns fetching his puck.  Took turns picking him off the ice.  Took turns laughing.

And took turns marveling at the smallest skater on the ice and his unquenchable enthusiasm for the sport of hockey.

Being there, on that ice, was also important for me- for my journey into understanding Finland.  I’ve lived here for well over 7 years now, and yet this was the first time in 12 years I’d gone ice skating.  I bought my first pair of ice skates ever right along Benjy.

Ice skating on that outdoor rink made me hate winter a little less.

Surrounded by all these Finnish kids, who are raised on the ice, who live, breath, eat, sleep, and bleed hockey- watching them as they flew from one end of the rink to the other, deftly maneuvering  around each other, shooting the puck between themselves- I understood how this small nation can have the best hockey team in the world.

I felt a part of something.  It was a strange feeling- knowing that some of these 7 year old will go on to be famous international stars- and knowing that Benjy had his first skate among them.

Apart from, of course, my other son and husband…

There’s no tutti to be seen!  No tuttis for miles around!  We are a tutti-free household!  Well, okay, a Benjy’s tutti-free household, since we still have hundreds of Henry’s lying around here.

This last weekend was the fabled “Big Boy Weekend.”  A movie in an actual theatre (Benjy’s first- he saw Happy Feet 2.  Alas, I did not attend, since it was in Finnish, but Olli says Benjy was spellbound the entire film), an evening at the indoor waterpark, a night in a hotel, a ginormous hotel breakfast, and then ICE SKATING on REAL ICE with a hockey stick and puck (those photos will come later).  All in an effort to reinforce the notion that Benjy is now a big boy and no longer requires a tutti.

Last night he whispered “Tutti, tutti,” very softly until he finally fell asleep.  Today, when we got back to our flat for a nap, he threw a tantrum instead of sleeping.  I fear the same will happen again tonight.

Big Boy weekend sure was fun, but it’s not had the effect we were hoping for.  Nevermind.  This is the stuff parenting is made out of.  I know when he’s 16, I’ll long for the simple drama of pacifiers and tantrums.  I shudder to think what will cause me torment during his adolescence.

Our first snowfall.  And if I have anything to say about it, our last.

Today is a new day.  I thought.  Today I choose to be in a good mood no matter what the demon child throws at me.

Because, it seems, that is what Benjy has morphed into.

And you never know when the demon might attack.  Monday night it was because Olli zoomed him up the four steps outside our building instead of allowing Benjy to walk himself.  Yesterday morning it was because he didn’t want to put on his winter gear to go to playgroup.  Yesterday afternoon it was because I put his Bandaid on wrong.  Yesterday night it was because Olli took him to play floorball outside instead of at the floorball arena.

And just now, it was because he didn’t want to take a nap.

These aren’t just a few heated words.  These are full on 10 minute screaming, running, flailing meltdowns.  Apparently Benjy’s tantrum last night lasted from the minute they got outside until Olli returned with the boys 20 minutes later.  What a pity I had to work instead of go with them…

But today, because of my commitment not to throwing a tantrum myself, I very quietly turned off all the lights in the house, got my blanket, and crawled into Benjy’s bed, where I waited for him to join me for our two minutes of obligatory pre-sleep snuggle time.

It diffused the situation immediately.

Let’s hope I can keep my cool for the next 3 hours, 45 minutes- until Olli gets home.  Then it’ll be HIS turn to wrestle the demon.

In fact, recently, he has told me that he NEEDS it.

The literature written by the experts, however, says it’s time for the tutti to go.

Now normally, you know how I feel about literature and the experts.  Each child is different and they’ll figure it out in their own time.  But in this instance, I have to agree.  Benjy’s already got what looks like the beginnings of an overbite.  And you know what an overbite means- messed up teeth and braces.  And braces means pain in his mouth and pain in my wallet.  All because of a 2 buck piece of rubber and plastic.

A friend of mine had said all she did with her daughter was to tell her that when she turned three, she’d be a big girl and she wouldn’t need the tutti anymore.  Come her third birthday, Maija willfully handed it over, and that was the end of that.

So, for MONTHS- all summer, in fact, we prepped Benjy for his third birthday.  ”No tuttis” he’d dutifully repeat.  We were ready.  His third birthday came and went, but the tutti stayed.

Fail.

We’d also heard from a few friends and internet reading that if you just cut the tips off the tutti then they’ll realize they’re broken and won’t want them anymore.

Great!  Let’s try it!

Total meltdown ensued.  It wasn’t a tantrum so much as a total panic attack.  He begged Olli and me to fix them and didn’t believe that we couldn’t.  We caved and gave him another one.

Double fail.

So now we’ve learned that we just have to take them away.  He’s not going to hand them over, he’s not going to accept they’re broken- they just need to be physically removed.

And they will be.  In a month.  When we have our Big Boy Weekend- the weekend that celebrates what a big boy Benjy has become.  The weekend that involves ice skating, hockey, a waterpark (indoor, of course), a movie, McDonald’s, and a night in a super fun hotel with Mommy and Daddy and NO TUTTIS.

My hope is he’ll be SO EXHAUSTED that he’ll just conk out without it being an issue.  And then that’ll be that.  I’ll keep you posted…

Last week, the plan was that on Thursday morning, my Mother in Law would join me and the boys for our monthly American Women’s Club meeting- this month’s topic “Women in War- Forced to be Strong.”

On Monday, the plan had changed.  My MIL would stay home with the boys while I attended the meeting.

Yesterday, the plan changed again.  Today was picture day at Benjy’s daycare, so the plan as I understood it would be that Olli takes Benjy to daycare for his photo then returns him home after I’ve left for my meeting.  Sylvi would still be at home with Henry.

This morning, however, the plan changed YET AGAIN when Henry woke up covered in hives and his lip and eye swollen to twice their size (photo taken two hours after swollen lip discovered- ps. He also has a cold.  And asthma.  It’s been a pretty rough week for this kid, but more on that later)

We deduced it was a soy allergy (he had tofu for the first time last night.  Combined with the copious amounts of soy milk he’s been drinking (convinced, as I was, that cow’s milk was constipating him)  it was a recipe for disaster for a kid with a heretofore undiagnosed soy allergy) and since the health center receptionist didn’t seem concerned, we weren’t either.

But before we weren’t concerned, we WERE concerned, so the plan was that I would go to the doctor with Henry and miss the meeting, my MIL would watch Benjy after his photo was taken after Olli dropped him back at home.

Except that Olli couldn’t drop him off at home, because Benjy needed to be there for the GROUP photo and we didn’t know what time that would be.  So, someone- not Olli- would have to pick Benjy up from daycare.  And by this time, we were unconcerned about the lip, so Henry was to be watched by Sylvi while I went to my meeting.

But expecting Olli’s mom to shove Henry in a snowsuit, walk a half mile UPHILL pushing a stroller, then find the daycare, get Benjy dressed for winter, and walk home was not really what she’d signed up for.

Enter Olli’s dad- who had a singing engagement at 11:00, but could help as long as the group photo was over with by 10:00 or so.

Alright, so the final plan was set- Olli would drop Benjy off at daycare.  Seppo would pick him up and drop him off with Sylvi who was watching Henry at home.  I would go to the meeting and be home before Benjy’s nap.

It vaguely resembled the original plan…  vaguely…

“We’ll see,” I’d reply and the tantrum would recommence.

Of all the sorts of tantrums to have, my absolute FAVORITES are the uber-public ones.  The ones where everyone and their mother can hear for miles around.

Remember, dear readers, we don’t have a car.  So, if he starts a tantrum in the park and continues the entire way home, screaming, writhing, crying, and snotting- it’s for all the dear pedestrians, shop-keepers, bus drivers, etc. to witness.

Today’s tantrum was so bad, someone actually came up to me and asked if I was okay.  She wanted to make sure I had a support network here- friends.  It was really sweet of her, and helped break my horrendous mood.  Because I have never NEVER been so angry with Benjy.

I was so angry I was shaking.

Today’s battle began because Henry and I were cold and we needed to go inside at the park.  They have lots of toys inside.  They even have a Foosball table, which Benjy is normally DYING to play.

But today he wanted to play with his hockey stick outside.  And so he refused to come inside.  Mini tantrum ensued.

“Not coming inside?  Okay.  We’ll go home.”

“Nooooo!  Nooo!  Inside!  Okay!”

But by then it was too late.  Bad behavior is not rewarded in this family.  Tantrums are not rewarded.

“No, you’re being naughty.  Now we have to go home.”

I collected the hockey stick, the puck, and Henry.  I put them all in the stroller.  I then picked up Benjy and carried him off whilst pushing the stroller.

Well, that wasn’t sustainable, with all the kicking and wriggling he was doing.

Alright, into the stroller then.

He climbed out.  While the stroller was moving.  He’s apparently in training to be a stunt double.

Then he ran away.  I ran after him, caught him, and held on tight while I shifted Henry to the bottom seat and Benjy to the top, where he could be strapped into the five point harness.

He escaped from the five point harness.

I then pushed the stroller using Benjy’s shoulders as my steering bar- it was the only thing keeping him in place.

We got to our building, I heaved him out, walked up the steps opened the door, slung him down and shut the door very quickly so he couldn’t escape.

I got Henry and the stroller upstairs and through the door being careful not to let my beast of a child escape.

Then the elevator.  Oh dear goodness.

I called the elevator and tried to tune out the wretched screaming while we waited, saying silent “I’m sorry’s” to anyone disturbed in the building.  The elevator came, I ran to get Benjy, unceremoniously heaved him into the stroller (I think he was on his head, if I remember right), shoved us all in, got to our flat, and miraculously got us all through the door in one piece.

One sniveling, sweaty, fuming piece.

He eventually calmed down.  I calmed down.  Benjy begged for his tutti.  Henry and I had lunch.  Benjy begged for his tutti.  We read a story.  Benjy begged for his tutti.  I gave him his tutti.  They both passed out.

It’s a good thing I don’t drink or my toddler would turn me into an alcoholic.  As it is, I relied on some peppermint tea, chocolate, and cheese to steady my nerves.

Someday I’ll read this and laugh.  But not today.