Sometimes the only thing- and I mean the ONLY THING that will calm Henry out of a tantrum is if I give him my sunglasses. He’s been known to wear these sunglasses in combination with some Mardi Gras beads my mom gave him when she was here, but I haven’t been able to get those on camera, yet. So, you’ll have to take my word when I say he gives Elton John a run for his money

When Henry was a wee little lad, we set about gathering all the necessary documents to register him as an American (Yes, because I am an American citizen, he is automatically an American.  However, if he doesn’t live in America for x amount of years after he’s 12, his children will not have the right to be citizens).  There were many documents that needed to be gathered for such a wee lad, all of which were delivered to the US Embassy in plenty of time for him to receive his passport for our trip Stateside last spring. However. The embassy was in the middle of an insane renovation. The entire foreign service was changing the way it processed foreign birth registrations. Henry’s name was too long for their new system and everything went pear shaped. So, although we submitted our paperwork to the Embassy three months before traveling, we were issued only an emergency passport the day before we were due to travel.  And THAT was only good for a year. Yipee!  I get to do this all over again! thought I, as I received the news. Well, it’s already one year on, and thus time for his second round of passport applications. I was going to suck it up and take him to get his passport photo taken at the shop where they would have ROBBED ME BLIND (

I know that different children have different personalities.  I know that a lot of that is genetic.  But I also am convinced that birth order has something to do with it. People who are the oldest children in the family tend to be quieter, more cautious, more reserved, more responsible.  I’m not saying EVERY eldest child is like this, but that is the trend. The youngest is usually louder, more demanding, and more independent. And this is because they MUST be.  If they want to be heard, they’ve got to scream.  If they want something, they’ve got to take it before it’s gone.  And since Mom is too stinkin’ busy taking care of everyone else, well they’ve just got to entertain themselves. Henry is all of these things.  Loud, demanding, and independent. Oh, so independent. He will sit quietly and play all by himself long enough for me to vacuum the whole house, clean the bathroom, and get lunch ready. And I feel TERRIBLE about it.  Of course I want him to be independent.  I want him to be able to think for himself.  I want him to have his own imagination and own ideas.  But I feel HORRIBLE that he’s so independent at such a young age, because I’m too busy/bored/whatever to play with him. I think it’s safe to say I’ve not much improved with my Happiness Project

A few people have asked about backlight recently, and since I a) try to answer questions from my loyal readership and b) am happy to find an excuse to look over photos from when there was actual LIGHT to backlight photos because it gives me hope that there will someday, once again, be light in this country- I thought NOW would be an excellent time to talk about backlight. Backlight is exactly what it sounds like- lighting your photo from the back.  It means shooting INTO the sun.  It means your background might be rather bright, but your subject is lit well. Here are some examples: Some benefits of backlighting your photos: 1.  If your subject is looking at you, then they are facing away from the sun.  No squinty eyes from looking INTO the sun.  Lovely, natural faces. 2.  Beautiful pastel tones. 3.  Convenient.  There isn’t always a huge rock or building to provide open shade.  You don’t have to put away your camera just because the light is too intense.  Just backlight. Jose Villa- a brilliant, brilliant photographer- takes it one step further when he backlights.  He tries to get something behind his subjects to break up the sun- branches from a tree, a fence, whatever.  Just so the backlighting isn’t so dramatic. For instance: Things to remember when backlighting your photos: 1.  You need to expose for

Day 2, Photographer’s Log: Tried the flash out on Henry.  Got some interesting results. Without flash:  One sad little boy, looking quite pathetic.  Overall atmosphere quiet post-nap tears.  Sweet.  Sad and sweet.  But somehow calm. With flash:  One sad little boy, perhaps sadder due to flash?  Overall atmosphere bright, loud, energetic.  Still sweet.  But loud and sweet. Of course the expressions are different in each.  But I also think the light really changes the feeling of the picture.  I like them both.  It’s just different.  This flash thing is going to take some getting used to. More practice coming tomorrow… Ps. Tears caused by the desperate need to poop.  It’s tough to be a 16 month old. Pps.  16 months TODAY!  Also, Henry’s name day!  Happy Name Day, Henry!

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