Ultrasound

Anja sat perfectly still at my side the whole time, looking gravely at the ultrasound tech. A bit different from two years ago when Elina scolded the lady for putting "yucky water" on my belly and explaining angrily over and over that the baby on the screen was HERS and not theirs. Of course, Elina was 3 years at the time, and Anja is only 21 months. Anja still has time to let her personality blossom.

Everything looked good on screen. All the parts are there. And it's a girl. We tried 4 times before she saw it. I picked up kids at school and then went back again for a fourth try.

And Mark and I are hopeless at agreeing on girl's names. It is all but impossible for us to narrow one down, because we have such intense dislike to the other's favroite picks. So please comment with your favorites. Keep in mind, must work in both languages.

Girls

Elina and Anja

Elina manages to squeeze Anja into the toy stroller - a game they both LOVE.
I am not as enthused.

The call of "Niiiiina!" echoes through the house as 20 month old Anja loses sight of her soon-to-be-five year-old sister, Elina. Isak tries bravely to hide his disappointment at not being the favorite sibling. But he just isn't as good at playing with dolls and the play kitchen as Elina is. True, Anja has been known to engage in light saber battles but she would rather put shoes on Barbies or serve elaborate meals at the little table. And then Elina and Anja have every morning until noon to play without Isak while he is at school and before Elina leaves for afternoon pre-K. They play well 75 percent of the time. The other 25 percent of the time consists of screaming, pulling hair, biting and pushing. If Anja has inflicted injuries she is the best about comforting her big sister, non-grudgingly hugging and patting. Not so great the other way around. I sometimes force Elina to retreat to her top bunk (where Anja cannot climb) and play with her itty-bitty pieces and special things undisturbed.

One day while doing dishes in the kitchen I hear Anja crying in their room. I walk in to inspect which doll they are fighting over. Instead I find Elina hugging and kissing Anja to make a boo-boo better. "What happened?" I wondered. "I had some trouble getting Anja down from the top bunk," Elina replies. [Silence while I try to form a reply] "But you did not have any trouble getting her up?" I finally asked. "No, that was easy!"

Sort of like when she took the dog for a walk without telling me and after circling the neighborhood on my bike several times I find her 7 minutes walking distance away. "I told you not to worry about me, mom!" (She did say that before she went outside, presumably into the YARD). "But I did worry about you. I did not know where you were!" "But I am not bugsquashed, I look both ways before crossing the street." Good thing! She crossed about five of them to get to where I found her. "But what if a bad guy comes?" I asked. "Sadie would just kill them!" Hmm. Yeah, I can see the headlines now. "Child perpetrator licked to death by Labrador while trying to get to his 4-yr old victim." No, I actaully have lots of faith in Sadie, our dog, to protect her pack in all sorts of incidences. It's the over-confident 4-yr old I don't trust.

Merry Christmas, and Lucia

Before I had three kids, our Christmas cards were usually prepared right at the beginning of December and sent with ample time to reach Europe. Now I send most electronically, and the hard copies that are sent this year will land somewhere before New Years - I hope.

Anyhow, here's a Christmas wish from our house to yours. And below, a picture of the Lucia celebration in Dallas on the 13th. Elina can be seen to the right of the Lucia herself, Isak is in one of the two star boy hats. Yours truly is somewhere on the back row. The light is not the best, but clicking on the picture should help.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

A bit of December

We went to Dallas for a truncated weekend. My kind brother-in-law not only lets us stay at his nice condo, he literally evacuates to let us have it all when we come down. The kids are so enthralled with urban living, the grand view over down town from the balconies, and the stores and people just below. When we were there we saw horse carriage rides every night, below on the street! Elina was in heaven. We saw the Dallas Temple (spire above) and met all the Swedes of Dallas for the annual Christmas celebration.

No pilgrimage there is complete without an IKEA stop, especially before Christmas when we have to stock up on essential Swedish Christmas food supplies. (I may add a video later of the Lucia performance). No pictures were taken. Mark had his hands full with Anja, I guess, and the rest of us were in the performance. Elina endured the entire dress rehearsal then backed out of the actual performance because she did not feel well. Sure enough, at IKEA later that evening, she threw up after I - very motherly - insisted that she take "two more bites." Elina throws up no matter what her illness is. This time it was upper respiratory.

At the IKEA cafeteria, minutes before Elina 'personalized' our area, poor thing.

I am also adding some pictures of the annual Christmas photo shoot. Last year we somehow managed to get everyone facing the camera at a snapshot in the church foyer. This year blood, sweat and tears would not get my kids to cooperate much. And forget taking them to the photographer. The photographers tear their hair out before we leave and insist that every picture is "really cute", just so we will leave, even though my otherwise gorgeous kids look like caricatures of themselves. Isak and Elina did fine during my hopeful session, but Anja would have none of the posing stuff, would not be still for even a second and never mind looking in the camera. Isak and Elina came up with the idea of chasing Anja down and putting her in an upright wrestling hold. It worked better than any other thing we tried. My kids just don't get enough practice posing, I guess. Worse things could happen to kids, but I would like just one good Christmas picture one of these years. Is that too much to ask? (All I want for Christmas is a frameable family picture, or one of the kids.)

Anja, 19 months

Isak, almost 6 and a half

Elina, 4 and a half

How to make hair like this, you wonder? After bath, let dry without any brushing. Voila.

The trick to making Anja sit long enough to snap this picture: removing one of her new shoes. "Ko!" she says while putting it back on, her version of the Swedish "sko" meaning "shoe."

Cold Blooded

Elina: "Mamma, can I go outside in my swim suit and play with the water hose?"

Mamma: "It is only 5 Celsius outside (41 F), that's really cold. You'll freeze!"

Elina: "No, I won't. Only for a little while, please?"

Mamma: [plan response, anticipate answer, form retaliation, steel myself against the emotional fit...Is there not a better way?] "Hmmmm. Okay. "

Elina: "I can?"

Mamma: "You can."

Elina zips through the house and in no time is dressed in her swimsuit.

One of those affordable lessons, right? She'll learn it is cold, come in on her own and then we won't have to have this discussion in December again.

She stayed outside, undaunted. Then I remembered that she has Viking blood, and despite the 3% body fat, playing with water outside is simply too much fun to give up just because it is, well, winter. The eighteen-month old on my hip (the one with the runny nose) moans and whines. She, too, wants to get down and play. Ouch. Plan has backfired.

Cousins

And they all bear the same last name. This was taken on Thanksgiving Day at grandma Donna's house, before we found the battery charger to our camera and it had so little charge left I was in a mad rush to just get the pictures, and had no time to concern myself with smiles etc.

Seated by age, mostly. Donna's grandkids: Anja (2007), Sebastian (2006), Merritt (2005), Elina (2004), Eliot (2003), baby Iliam (2008), and Isak (2002).

Lake Thunderbird

One of our favorite spots to visit this time of year is Lake Thunderbird. Our dog loves it too. Sometimes I wonder if Sadie thinks every time we get in the car and go somewhere we go somewhere fun, like Lake Thunderbird, since the only time we ever bring her in the car is when we have such a destination. Poor Sadie, if that is what she thinks. No wonder she moans when we leave her behind on a daily basis. Those cruel humans.

The cut on Mark's forehead? Caused by razor sharp front teeth from the very angel on his shoulders.

Halloween

Yoda. Cuter than the original?

A one-time wonder with the old, chewed uploading cord. Mark jammed it in there, man-like. I don't think we'll try that again or it will likely ruin the camera port. But, we now have PICTURES.

First things first, my favorite American holiday: Halloween. To me, this holiday embodies the essence of what made me fall in love with this country back in 1993. I can't very accurately describe it. I guess it is the open hearted, living-it-up sense of fun. My dad said it best, I think, during a regular OU game (which equivalent sporting event would have to be the European Soccer Championship FINALE). "It's not the crowd. I've seen plenty of crowds before. It's the 60 year old men wearing foam prairie wagons on their heads." One of the many reasons I love this land.

Obi-Wan is feeling the force and Yoda is not. Or the other way around?

Dragon and farmer have got the moves.

Modeling the costume.

Elina was done trick-or-treating long before the others.
"I really don't want more candy. I have enough."

Elina at her school.

Halloween party at the Balkmans.

I did not dress up. I was too busy sewing Isak's costume to perfection... That's my excuse.

Mothers Without Borders

My camera battery charger is lost. I think the kids did something with it, because I never move it - it is one of two places at all times. But until I find it, I cannot upload pictures. The camera is filled with all kinds of things, Halloween pics, most notably. But also other adventures. I'll try and deep clean the house this weekend and find it.

The newest news in our family is that we have been adopted by a CAT. Five days went by and it would not leave, even though Sadie did her "roaring lion going after a gazelle" impersonation on the poor cat several times. Elina named the cat "Skittles," after the candy. Her inspiration was the classroom pet hamster Jelly-Bean. Jelly-Beans and Skittles do look a bit a like, I suppose. I finally broke down and fed the cat, and tonight for the first time we let it spend the night in our entry way, and made a bed from an old towel. It is not heated, but well-insulated, wind-free and won't freeze. I even bought a bag of cat food, and I am not a CAT PERSON! If anyone in Norman wants to adopt a cute, sweet tabby cat that is fond of children, let me know. I have yet to find a lost-cat ad, and I have checked.

The thing that has absolutely CONSUMED me lately is AIDS orphans in Zambia. I have since very early in life had a strong desire, no yearning, to be part of a solution for Africa. I remember the Christmas my parents bought the single "Do they know it's Christmas time?" I was 6. I listened to it over and over and had my mother translate the words for me, because I did not understand English at the time. I watched the documentary behind the making of the single with my parents when it aired on TV and the melody haunted me along with the images of desperation in Africa. I remember the feel of the single cover and I must have spent hours looking at the image of the two starving Ethiopian kids. And yes, the argument "Think of the children in Africa" usually worked to get me to clear my plate.

We lived without television for 4 years, Mark and I. But a few years ago we got satellite, except we pay only for the outdoor channel, a la carte. It's 5 bucks a month and we get twenty or thirty free channels. They are obscure ones, but we like them. BYU TV, UCLA TV, and a bunch of other university channels. We also watch China News and Al Jazeera in English and other Middle Eastern, British and German news casts along with American news and funky world music on LINK. We also get DOC, the documentary channel. That is where I saw the documentary "Their Brother's Keepers: Orphaned by AIDS" (will air again Dec 11, 6 pm central time) that kept me up crying like I haven't cried since I said good bye to my family at the airport in June, worse actually.

I mean, anyone who has not lived under a rock for the past 10 years knows how AIDS is ravaging Africa, but to see and follow day-to-day life for child-headed households in Zambia was almost more than I could bear. Ten year old kids care for their younger brothers and sisters, sleeping on burlap sacks on dirt floors, eating a few times a week. They wash them, play with them, comfort them and sing to them, telling them everything will be alright.

My response is always the same. I go into a mental frenzy on how to make insane amounts of money, get resources and just pour it into these children's lives and their communities. But fact is, I will never make that kind of money. But I am insanely rich already. I have MANY changes of clothes, as do my children. I have a warm house with all kinds of furniture, food, books to read and DVDs to watch, pretty things and things I don't want or really need. I eat too much. My kids are getting a great education. I have a college degree. I have a freaking cell phone! Would I give it up to feed an orphan child per month in Zambia? Absolutely.

I am not too trusting of charitable organizations, except The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints whose Humanitarian Aid program donates 100% of funds directly to the people in need, thanks to an all volunteer staff. Plan is the name of the organization that made the documentary I saw, or at least they were connected with it somehow. They use 22% of donations for administration and advertisements. If they had not, I would never have learned about Zambia the way I did. So I think 22% is fair. Someone has got to get the word out, or nothing gets done.

But then I looked at the organizations the Church works with in Zambia. They only work with the best. Here is a map of the Church's humanitarian efforts world wide. It has been Mark's and my dream since we got married to one day serve a Humanitarian mission for the Church, once the kids are out of the house. One of the charities the Church works with in Zambia is Mothers Without Borders. They use 94% for children's needs. An absolutely AMAZING organization now that I have looked at it. But again, they are not likely reaching the audience that Plan does, because they do not spend money on advertising. So I may do a one time donation to Plan to encourage them to keep up the good work. But Mothers Without Borders is in my heart and will be part of my life from now on. Perhaps I will be able to sleep at night.

Of Pitbulls and girls

Elina and Isak have both been thoroughly indoctrinated to be wary of Pitbulls, since they have such steep statistics against them when it comes to turning on their owners, resulting in grave injuries - not to mention attacks on strangers which is equally high for this breed. (We have several Pitbulls in our neighborhood, and my feeling is: If you want a sweet dog, get a Lab for goodness sakes!)

Elina, home from school is outside swinging in the back yard where Mark is getting some tools. Ten minutes later she comes in crying mad and furious tears.

Elina: "Pappa is not telling the truth! Jasmine at school has a nice Pitbull. It is not mean! He doesn't know that it is a nice Pitbull." Tears streaming down her face and wailing like she got her finger stuck in the car door.

Mamma: "I think what Pappa meant is that sometimes even nice Pitbulls can become mean, suddenly, even when no one is being mean to the Pitbull."

Elina: "No, that is not what he said! He said he wanted to kill Jasmine's Pitbull! I am angry with him!"

Mamma: "He said that? He should not have said that. I'll tell him."

Elina goes back out in the yard again, still red faced and upset, but not wailing.

Enter Mark.

Victoria: "Honey, did you tell Elina you were going to kill Jasmine's Pitbull?"

Mark: "No, I didn't. I just said they taste better when fried."