I’ve always thought I had a pretty good relationship with my in-laws.  They’ve always taken good care of me in the absence of my own parents.  They feed me, watch my kids, fold my laundry (only occasionally), and give me movie tickets for special occasions. But they clearly secretly hate me. And clearly are conspiring for my early demise.  A slow, painful death by harmonica. Because that’s what they gave my kids.  A harmonica.  To bring home with them.  And “play” incessantly. My dear mother is also in on the conspiracy (what did I ever do to you, Mom?), for in her latest care package she sent a “How to teach yourself the harmonica” book, which has inspired OLLI to pick up HIS harmonica and give it a go as well!  (He’s playing Auld Lang Syne in this photos.  Afterwards, he said to me, “This part [of the harmonica] isn’t working properly.  I wonder if I should get it fixed.”  Oi!) Okay, but truth be told the harmonica isn’t the worst noisy toy to have.  It’s at least 20 times better than a recorder.  If my in-laws ever send one of those home with the kids, it might get “lost” pretty quickly. Ps.  This is clearly a joke.  Clearly my in-laws don’t hate me.  Clearly I’m kidding

Yesterday, while Olli’s dad was busy sweating his way through a 50km cross-country ski competition, Olli and I took the boys to sweat our way through some sledding with our two beautiful boys. A few things. 1.  Both kids are helmeted.  We take our sledding very seriously here. 2.  Henry wasn’t particularly keen on the whole sledding thing as evidenced by photo 5.  He chose to spend his time walking down the hill, instead.  And then he’d ride the conveyor belt back to the top and do all again. 3.  Yes, I said CONVEYOR BELT.  We didn’t end up sweating.  At all.  There was this little ski lift kind of conveyor belt to the right of the sledding slope.  We’d simply go down and ride back up.  Olli felt like we cheated- like we missed part of the fun of sledding.  I felt like we won the sledding lottery.  Pretty sure 90% of my readers will agree with me. 4.  After this, we opted for eating some ice cream instead of grabbing something warm to drink.  Finns are crazy about their ice cream in all weather. 5.  Benjy ended up going down this sledding hill by himself a few times.  I didn’t take photos, because I was too terrified he was going to die.  But he didn’t die.  The first time he went down by himself, he was nearly at the bottom

We are not morning people in this house. I mean, we wake up in the morning, don’t get me wrong.  Sometimes SUPER EARLY morning, thanks to Mr. Henry. But it seems IMPOSSIBLE to get moving. We wake up. We snuggle. We play. We start breakfast. I clean the kitchen from dinner the night before (I’ve never been one to have the energy to clean the house after the kids go to sleep.  Once the kids are in bed, that’s it- I’m done.  Time for watching mindless TV or losing myself in a book or wasting lovely hours on FB). We continue breakfast. I argue with Benjy about finishing breakfast. I give up on breakfast. The kids play some more. I shower. I check email or FB. I remember things I MUST do right then- clip my fingernails, pay a bill, print some address labels. I start changing the kids’ clothes. That takes roughly an eternity and a half. Then I might notice the light is great and snap some pics of the boys doing nothing particularly special. And then the REAL fun begins.  The part where I get to track down each child and each child’s winter coat and each child’s winter mittens and each child’s winter scarf and each child’s winter hat and each child’s winter boots and wrestle and roll and bribe and threaten to move to Tahiti

I shared a pic on Facebook the other day (not my own pic) of the insane state of Helsinki’s streets at the moment.  Apparently, we’ve received as much snow in one month as we did the entire winter last year.  And that’s saying something, because last year was a record year for snow. Since a lot of my friends and family live in Arizona, you can imagine their genuine shock.  Shock and disbelief that I would choose to live somewhere so stinkin’ cold. First, let me say that I’m not here for the weather.  I’m here, because Finland happened to produce the most fantastic man on the planet and then the universe dictated I marry him.  And then we had kids and the awesome social benefits kept me here.  And now I have a business and friends and a life in the city. So, while I’ve got a lot of reasons to stay here- the weather is not one of them. That being said. There are some winter mornings which are impossibly sunny and warm (relatively speaking) and the park beckons to you and your kids.  And their skates.  And hockey sticks.  And your camera.  And it doesn’t matter that the basket broke on your winter stroller and you have to carry all the stuff while pushing the stroller and two kids with one hand up a hill of ice

The worst thing about living in Finland is not the snow, the sleet, the hail.  It’s being away from my family.  It’s knowing that I can’t just call my parents and invite them over for dinner.  Or just pop by my sister’s for an impromptu movie night.  I’m not a three hour flight from my Wisconsin family.  When things are good or things are bad, I’m not physically there to celebrate or mourn. 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

Yes, I know I have two sons.  Yes, I know one is just as cute as the other.  Yes, I know that it’s important I give attention to both children. 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

Not sure who was more unsure- Olli or Benjy. 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

What is missing from these photos? 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

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

When he’s famous in 20 years, I’ll release this photo to the press and say, “It all started here.&#