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Posts from the ‘Motherhood’ Category

Serious Shoe Fetish

Esten Sleeping in His Cleats after Showering in Them for Proper Fit!?

Upon receiving my latest blog post,

Shoe Fetish,

Daddy commented,

`Kim, I just knew from the title this was going to be about Esten.´

Esten´s Backpack and SCHOOL SUPPLY Locker at Home

It wasn´t, but I understand why he would think it was.

Esten has a Serious Shoe PROBLEM Fetish.

He comes by it honestly.

 MUST READ Esten stories:

How Do You Like Your Eggs? 


The Night The Tooth Fairy Cried

Twas the Night Before a Goodness and Grit Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, (Jul in our HALF Norsk hus)
Every creature was stirring, including Farmor´s Kitchen Mus.

The stockings were hung on nails with care,
In hopes that someday a fireplace would be there.

Construction continues, but the end is near.

I hope next year is the LAST that workers are here!

So much to do, I don´t know where time went.

We had four weeks to prep, (this time we call Advent).

With each candle lit, I baked morsels of heaven.

You are not a good Norsk wife if you don´t have a choice of AT LEAST SEVEN!

Snow was a glitter under the bright new moon
Sunlight we might not see until closer to June.

I in my wool Long Johns, wool scarf and wool cap,
had just parked my SPARK, fancying a nap.

I put away the shopping and warmed up with GLØGG.

Mulled wine of sorts, with nuts and raisins in a mug.

I served the Christmas porridge ,that most call GRØT,

with excitement and anticipation…

but someone ELSE found the nut.

Yes hidden in the cereal is ONE almond to find,

and a Marzipan Pig awaits the inclined.

We went to church to hear yuletide messages,

and placed candles on gravesides of relatives who´ve left us.

We chat a bit and receive hugs from embracers

then home for pork rib and AQUAVIT chasers.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the table to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
Twas the neighbors stumbling home from a fest full of cheer.

A glance at the clock and for goodness sake

I scurry about because it is getting late.

I tuck in the children lively and quick,
Mommy´s getting tired

and there´s still St Nick.

We say our prayers and discuss what Christmas is about.

I give them hugs and turn the lights out.

Traditional Norwegian Jul can last all night

but we also have American traditions that we keep bound tight.

The best of both worlds we always say.

Take the good from here AND from there,

it´s a wonderful way!

I Dash down the staircase

to find Prancing like a Vixon

The Man of my dreams looking Donner and Blitzen!

I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!

He really is a Dream Baby, that  jolly ol elf.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon let me know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a smirk.

He gave me a kiss

and poured one Aquavit more.

A toast to bliss,

then continued his chore.

Amidst our scurry

I discover an oversight,

and run to the computer because I simply must write,

to my Goodness and Grit readers,

“Good Jul to all and to all a good-night!”

Plagsom Stalking Elves

Ulf Elf showed up fifteen years ago as a Christmas gift from Farmor (Father´s Mother) to Erling Jr.

The first year he simply sat around on the sofa during the holidays as a bit of Norwegian decor.

I imagine he was dealing with culture shock.

The next year, as Jr. became mobile, mischievous, and messy, Ulf began to follow Jr around.

He was a reminder that Santa is watching, and Jr. best mind his p´s and q´s.

Following the birth of Esten, Odd Elf appeared.

Odd felt at home right away, and was quick to follow Ulf´s lead by pointing out Esten´s forgetfulness.

Of course Eliane also came with an Elf  (with serious skirt problems) named Ingeborg.

We have a lot of giggles with our elf friends, and over the years the children have renamed them.

Jr. has changed Ulf´s name to Stalker.

Esten refers to Odd as Plagsom (Bothersome in Norwegian),

And Eliane calls Ingeborg by the name Lisa.

For the record, all of Eliane´s dolls and stuffed animals are named Lisa.

Elf reminders work!

And like magic, once things are in order the children place their elves back in the living room.

Stalker and Lisa have seemingly hooked up

and I´m hoping a new elf is on it´s way to look after Dream Baby.

If ANYONE needs an elf on his ass,  it´s DREAM BABY!

My Hard Cylinder Head Blew A Gasket

Grumpy Baby of Vigeland Park in Oslo Norway

Occasionally, the compression in my cylinder will cause a leak to form in my gasket, resulting in severe damage to my sweet husband´s feelings.

In other words, I blow a gasket!

Lately this compression problem has been exacerbated by the over abundance of rain and/or gloomy cloud coverage engulfing my hard cylinder head.

Shorter days and longer nights compounded by Dream Baby travelling most of the week seemingly causes a great deal more stress on MY head gasket.

This is NOT what I moved to Norway for.

I am certain you have noticed the warning signs… blog posts, or what is posted was actually a repost from months ago…

You see… I have this feeling, deep within my creative engine, that if my thoughts are not funny or uplifting, they shouldn´t be blogged. But these murky thoughts have got to change because venting is cheaper than therapy damn it!

Besides what´s Goodness without the Grit?

Add parent/teacher conferences to my already insane `single parent´ schedule and a hiss comes out of my mouth followed by the knock, knock, knock of my foot on the floor as I await Sr´s return from his latest business trip. Seconds after the poor unsuspecting soul walks in the door, exhaust fumes and louder noises explode from my pipe.

And boy, was there steam this time…

It has been a VERY long time since my last childlike temper tantrum episode  blown gasket, and this time the message was evidently clear and to the point. Dream Baby said nothing. He simply walked up the stairs with his suitcase.

NOT his typical response!

Before I could mentally review the scene, which must have resembled the not so mature pissed off grumpy baby pictured above, I hear him on the phone saying something about Rome not being warm enough. Better make it Barcelona. There were airlines mentioned and hotel discussions, then he hangs up. Before returning downstairs, I hear him on another call talking to his parents about babysitting.

This time I had really done  it.

Vigeland Museum/ Frogner Park Oslo, Norway

He returned downstairs; and to my relief,  he was stripped of his sports coat, shoes and suitcase.

I waited for the explosion.

He opened a bottle of red, poured two glasses, and as he handed one to me, he quietly said,

`Babe, we are going to Barcelona in a week and a half.´

(our first kid-free vacation in many years)

Better than a catalytic converter, he had neutralized my hazardous exhaust before I could further pollute the atmosphere of our world.

Beginning to understand the name Dream Baby?

Vigeland Museum/ Frogner Park in Oslo, Norway

Got a similar unexpected response story?


Esten´s Joke….Caution Contains Bathroom Language!

Meet Esten

Our middle child Esten, is twelve years old going on six.

Yesterday he came home from school bursting at the seams to tell me his latest joke.

Having heard an Esten joke before, I braced myself for the unfiltered kindergarten material that was about to spew from his adorable 7th grade mouth.

 Per Esten standards, it was filled with bathroom talk and did NOT disappoint.

Esten´s Joke:

A couple was in bed

 and suddenly a strange sound came from under the comforter…

(Esten used the word fart).

The lady asked, `What was that?´

The man replied, `Game on! The score is 1-0.´

It wasn´t long before another `strange´ sound occurred,

this time the MAN questioned: `What was that?´

The lady responded `Tie ballgame´ and went back to reading her book.

Then a much louder and longer sound came from under the covers.

 (A productive fart was Esten´s description)

And the lady asked, `What was that?´

The man,

with a look of surprise on his face said,

`Half-time change sides!´

(I believe Esten used the word poop)

I´m Not Afraid, But I Think I´ll Hide

There’s something sitting on the porch out there

I think it´s grinning on the porch out there

I’m not afraid cause I’m safe inside
I’m not afraid, but I think I’ll hide.

There’s something screaming and yelling out there

It looks pregnant as it glides on a broom through the air

I’m not afraid cause I’m safe inside
I’m not afraid, but I think I’ll hide.

There´s something howling on the fence out there

I can´t tell if it´s meowing as I stare

I´m not afraid cause I’m safe inside
I’m not afraid, but I think I’ll hide.

I think I see a big bear out there

and a scary man with a hammer, I SWEAR!

I’m not afraid cause I’m safe inside
I’m not afraid, but I think I’ll hide.



I loved singing this song each Halloween in elementary school music class!

Of course I changed the text a bit for this post, but not much!

While We Are Still On The Subject- a repost

The Night The Tooth Fairy Cried…

In a house filled with small children, it rains baby teeth. And when Esten, our middle child, lost his top front tooth, he was in his glory. We were on vacation in Spain. He spent the entire day spitting pool water through the new perforation in his funny looking smile, and  he continuously tried to whistle. There were giggles because certain words sounded funny when he spoke, and he exaggerated the difficulty of eating solid foods. In fact, Esten decided from that day forward, he could only eat ice cream. We had so much fun watching him marvel over this simple little wonder, that we hated to see the day end.

That night when everyone was sound asleep, the tooth fairy came for a visit. She was excited about her first exchange of tooth for Euros, and could not wait to make the transaction. With a smile on her face and generosity in her heart, she tip-toed upstairs to fulfill her destiny. To her surprise the bedroom door was locked. She tiptoed back downstairs and began searching for a key. Then, she began searching for anything to pick the lock. She tried several different things, but the big Spanish door defeated her.  A feeling of relief swept over her as she remembered the open window. She climbed on the roof, but the security bars, typical in Spanish architecture, shattered her elation. The tooth fairy was crushed. She climbed down and cried out of disappointment and frustration.

The next morning Esten awoke happy as ever. He came downstairs announcing that the tooth fairy had come!  She had left coins in a cup of water on his windowsill. There was a note announcing her plans to return tonight to claim the tooth that is rightfully hers. There were detailed instructions for Esten to put the tiny white prize in the same cup of water he had found coins and return it to the windowsill.  She also mentioned door locking could be a scary fire hazard and suggested he not do that anymore.

Never doubt the powers of a fairy, my dear. Her cleverness outwits most of us here. Her love and compassion soar beyond rooftops and time. She gains strength from teardrops as we drench sorrows in wine.

Esten (on the left) announcing THE TOOTH FAIRY CAME to mommy and daddy who were having coffee poolside

To find out what the Tooth Fairy does with the teeth she collects read:

Even the Tooth Fairy Has Royal Wedding Fever!