Marathons & Mistaken Identities...

We flew home before Easter in order to watch my little sister run the London Marathon on the 17th April. My dad was to meet us at the airport, and the children were super excited to see him. I spotted him first, waiting for us in a cafe. I pointed him out to the kids, and they ran over to meet him. At the last minute he took a shortcut to meet us, but my son kept on running. I wondered where on earth he was going at first, until I spotted the man at the counter... I suppose he did slightly resemble my dad, but by then S had grabbed hold of his hand anyway,and was shouting "Grandad, Grandad" excitedly. Doppelganger Grandad then turned around, and the look of horror on S's face as the realisation hit that this wasn't who he had actually expected it to be kicked in, and was both slightly amusing and heartbreaking at the same time. Real Grandad however, who had watched the whole thing unfold, found it hilarious (as did my daughter)! As we left the scene (trying to console a furious small boy), it was hard to explain that nobody was actually laughing at him, it was more the situation! I guess the resemblance was the most amusing thing... both wore the same kind of clothes, they had the same hair (or rather lack of it), they each held a folded newspaper (something my dad always has when he meets us), so I guess you could completely understand his mistake. All except for one tiny little thing...he was at least half my Dad's height! Real Grandad and miniature Doppelganger Granded (who was a lovely, if somewhat bemused man), both agreed that it must have been the hair that had caused the confusion...

This turned out not to be the only calamity for poor S during our trip home. On the Saturday we had some shopping to do for my sister's forthcoming wedding... First stop John Lewis. We accomplished the first task, and jumped on the escalator to the floor above. R alighted at the top without any issues. S holding my hand, tried to get off, but suddenly hit the floor with a bang... I then realised that part of his shoe lace had got sucked into the side of the escalator, and the poor little chap was stuck fast. It's funny how in situations like this, all refinement goes out the window (not that I had much in the first place), and before I knew it, I was lying on the floor of the shop in amongst a crowd of onlookers (with one elderly lady screaming "press the emergency button, press the emergency button" at the top of her voice, whilst standing directly in front of it!!), desperately untangling a panicking four year old. It was over in seconds, but it felt like we were there for at least an hour. He was very stoic about it once he had recovered, but funnily enough, he agreed with his sister's suggestion of getting the lift back down again instead!!

On the Sunday we ventured into central London to cheer on my Little Sis, who after all her hard work for Cancer Research last year, had been offered a place to run the gruelling 26 mile course this year. There was such a fantastic atmosphere, on the most beautiful, hot and sunny day, which of course meant that the running conditions were diabolical. After watching thousands of crazily dressed dedicated runners file passed, we spotted her and were able to spur her on. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to complete the course after collapsing from dehydration at Mile 17. They wouldn't let her carry on anymore (even though she had desperately wanted to), and it was so sad to see how disappointed she was. I have to say that I don't think she had anything to feel bad about, but she felt like she had let everyone down. Personally, I think that in those conditions I would have struggled to run 200 metres, let alone 17 miles!! Ever the fighter (she's as stubborn as her big sister, bless her!!), she came away saying, there's always next year, and we will be back to watch should she chose to do it....

Part two of our trip home to follow later...

Green

I could never understand why people referred to England as a green and pleasant land, that is until we left! Whilst Denmark is a darker green, with lots of blues, browns and yellows inbetween, England is definitely green, a glorious bright and vibrant green! Even it's biggest cities are packed with trees and parks, and it really is a different shade to anywhere else I have been...

I took this picture of one of my most favourite things, in my mother's village at the weekend (more of our trip home later!). This magnificent chestnut tree, the biggest for miles around, stands proud in the corner of the churchyard. I wonder how many weddings, christenings and funerals it has witnessed over the years? I did give it a hug on the way out...no really!

Flying With Children

We fly a lot, not because I love it (I don't, I hate it with every fibre of my being), but because unfortunately with living abroad it's a necessity occasionally. One of the main reasons for my hatred of this form of transport (and I have millions believe me), is fellow passenger's attitudes towards you when you get on a plane with small children. The tuts and glares begin as you get through the door, and don't usually desist until you have landed and are out the door at the other end. Luckily my children are well used to flying, and know exactly what they can and cannot do when they get on a plane. I am not saying they are perfect, but they know not to make too much of a racket, not to argue or fight, absolutely no kicking of seats or jumping around, and generally sit quietly watching TV or with the treats that I have bought along for the ride. Yes, blackmail is involved, but it works OK (and they know nothing else is coming out of Mummy's "bag of tricks" should the behaviour change at all!)? Some tips I find useful are as follows (please note, some of these tips may only work if you are flying with two children and they are around the 4+ mark)...

* pack baby-wipes, plenty of them;

* snacks they don't usually have (nothing chocolate though, you will be dealing with enough mess believe me!)

* lollipops (sugar free if necessary) for take off and landing. Little ears suffer more with the pressure (make sure you stipulate the no crunching rule though, or you will be stuck!);

* plenty of comics, activity books, new pens, and things like sticky mosaic kits are invaluable;

* split them up. By not letting them sit next to each other you can prevent arguments, and it makes it easier for you to divide your time between them;

* make it clear that one will get the window seat for the outbound journey, and vice versa. They will not care if it's a night flight, or that the window blind may be shut by the grumpy person in front of them, it's a window seat and their sibling isn't sitting next to it;

* take empty bags for rubbish;

* Pack a spare change of clothes as well for longer flights. After being projectile vomited over on a long haul once, I now also take spare clothes for me too (hastily found business class pyjamas are not a good look)!

* keep an eye out for when the toilet queue is quiet, and ask regularly whether they need to go. They don't tend to understand that they can't actually get out of their seats during take off and landing(or when it's turbulent) when they are desperate for the loo...

* audio books are a lifesaver, especially near bed time;

* last but not least, if all else fails, remember you will never see the people around you again...!

I am sure there are hundreds more, so if you want to add any tips please feel free - I am always on the look out!

By the way, it is unusual for your children to get a word of praise from anyone around you, even if they haven't uttered a peep for the duration of the flight, so I like to make a point of telling a child how good they have been at the end of the journey should I be sat near one - it's the little things isn't it?... Oh and if you should hate flying like me, take solace in the fact that taking any flight with children makes it feel like you are on a supersonic jet as time seems to go a lot lot quicker!

Easter Bunnies....

Happy Easter!

A Brief Interlude

...From the heart of the beautiful UK countryside! The bluebells arrived around a week before we did, and they are at their peak at the moment. I took this last night at sunset when the colours were just incredible!

My internet access is highly sporadic here, but I will return shortly with tales of mistaken identities, escalator rescues and gargoyle inspections.

Back soon!

Gallery Gallavanting

A rainy inset day spent at the National Gallery of Denmark (or Statens Museum for Kunst as it's better known in these parts), with my miniature art critic. She had wanted to visit the children's workshop similar to the fantastic one in Louisiana, but it's only open to school groups during the week unfortunately, so we watched a quirky art video called "Wild Horses" instead. She pronounced this "far more interesting than Black Beauty" (and it was also much shorter thankfully)! R decided she wasn't in much of a drawing mood on this particular occasion, which I couldn't help be secretly disappointed by as I was hoping for a similar masterpiece to her Little Dancer Portrait that she did at the Glyptotek...

It is worth a visit though, if not only for the building itself - the Danes do big architectural spaces well, and some of the exhibition rooms are beautiful (plus it's free to get in!)! Do check beforehand though if there's something you particularly want to see, a big section was closed for rehanging this visit, and the advertised Children's collection was nowhere to be seen...

Evening Sun...

When the weather is as nice as it was yesterday in Denmark, you have to make the most of it, as I promise you it's not going to last that long. In a country where the weather is usually pretty bad, or at best dull for over half of the year, you will notice that a high proportion of it's population favours a bright orange hue thanks to sunlight addiction (whether manufactured or real), and at the first sign of the real stuff at this time of year, they are all out in it soaking up the rays (as are we!)...

Picking up my daughter from a friend's house in Rungsted yesterday evening (we have been here long enough now to know you have to make the most of it when it first arrives), we went straight to the harbour there (Fiskerikajen not open yet - after Easter hopefully!), where we managed to get a table outside for a pizza on the seafront. R was telling us that she had been crabbing here at a summer camp she attended last year. She swore blind that the food that caught the most crabs was pieces of seal. I am pretty confident she actually meant sild (herring), but there is no arguing with this child sometimes, and she got quite irate with her parents (which considering the topic was quite amusing), and drew a couple of bemused looks from the orange folk around us. On the way back to the car we happened upon a bucket of crab fishing rods outside a shop and bought our own for future expeditions. No "seal" to be had though, but we found a bit of icecream cone, which of course floated at first! However I am married to engineer, so he soon came up with an ingenious pebble weighting system and the crabbing began. It turns out that crabs don't like ice-cream cone, but it was a beautiful evening and one I will remember. I am very glad we made the effort, you can just guess what the weather is doing today...

A Walk in the Park...

Some pictures of beautiful Dyrehavn from this morning... So gracious of the nice weather to put in an appearance after the galeforce winds of last week (which were so strong at one point, outgoing flights from Copenhagen were cancelled)...I am amazed that the little red guy on my last picture was able to cling onto the tree without being airborne, but perhaps it explains why the picture looks a little fuzzier than it actually should? Or perhaps it's because it's about time I learned how to take pictures and use my camera properly? As with everything, there's no time like the present, so I began with a morning's photography walk with the lovely and very talented Heather from H2o Photography, starting at Bellevue Beach. The lifeguard station there is quite iconic as it was designed by Arne Jacobsen (of egg chair fame no less), so it was nice to finally find it and take its portrait (no naked swimmers this morning unfortunately, not cold enough I expect!)!... After half an hour on the beach discovering settings on my camera I didn't even know existed, it was time to go into the deer park itself. It stretches over 11 Kilometres so we only had time to explore a tiny corner, but it was really nice to just snap away, taking photos of nothing in particular... and the best thing of all I caught all day - the sun, it's nice to have you back, we have all missed you!...

Silent Sunday....

Learning to Help...

These pictures were drawn by R&S a few days ago and sent along with a little note and a new pair of socks to people displaced by the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. It was nice to find them something they could also get involved with to help after listening to them playing the other day. A particularly complicated scene had been set up with good old Playmobil (they spend hours creating ornate microcosms that are spread out all over the place, and can last for days), when R tripped over the corner of the table and sent it all flying. Thinking on her feet (to prevent another kind of scene with her little brother) she explained that everything had been knocked over because of the giant "salami"... She may not have been able to pronounce it, but was obviously aware of what was happening, and said they had been discussing it at school and talking about what they could do to help. Through this lovely blog I found out about this, so R&S set to work drawing and composing notes, which we asked a friend to translate for us. They decided that they would like to send the socks to a man as they felt that men might not be getting as many parcels as women and children for some reason! R chose to draw some ballet dancers to help take the person's mind off things, while S just wanted to draw something to do with pirates, so chose to draw a parrot for them. If you are looking to do something alongside sending money, please take a moment to have a look at the website and read about the work they are doing. Some of the people they are reaching have lost everything, but have said it helps to know that someone else is thinking of them.

An Unconventional Mother

I was presented with two beautiful Mother's Day cards on Sunday along with a big pot of daffodils. The cards I will no doubt squirrel away, along with all the other cards and pictures created by my children that are special to me. One day, they will help us reminisce about days gone by (and will no doubt make me weep about how old and wrinkled I am...). For the very first time my daughter had written her card all by herself, which made it even more special, and my son had had some help with his writing, but had drawn a picture on the back. "That's lovely darling, is it you and R on a slide?" I asked, "No", came the reply, "it's granny on a sledge". Now "Granny" and "Sledge" might not be two words that you hear together very often, but this is my mother we are talking about here. If ever the term Carpe Diem were more aptly to apply to anyone, it would be her (much to the concern of her three daughter's sometimes at some of the stuff she gets up to!)! Not one to sit back and think about having a go at something, she likes to jump straight in at the deep-end, whether it's bell-ringing, crop-circle chasing, or pyramid hunting in Egypt! She might be surprised to hear this, but if I aim to aspire to be like anyone at all, it would be her. Never grumbling or miserable, never one to judge or criticise, and always looking for the best in people, something we could all do with doing a bit more. Elegant and beautiful (apart from when she's on a sledge), I had a couple of male friends when I was a teenager who I am now sure kept visiting because they wanted to see her! Luckily one of the most important qualities about her I think I have inherited, and that is to always try and look for the humour in life, it helps puts a different perspective on everything. I am proud of my unconventional Mother, and I can but hope that one day my children will say the same about me.



This post was inspired by The Gallery, this weeks' theme Mother Love, pop over and take a look at the other entries!

Close Encounters of the Dirt Kind...

Our children have always welcomed a plethora of imaginary friends into our home, starting off with my daughter's partners in crime, Dolla and Dilla, who arrived when she was around 15 months old. They lived with us for around two and a half years before taking themselves off "on holiday" never to be seen again. Recently I asked her whether she had heard from them, to be told rather matter of factly that they are now dead. She didn't seem too bothered by this, but I did feel a pang of sadness that this part of her childhood is now over. My son also has a couple of imaginary friends currently in existence, who are also (rather conveniently) his hands. "Bulgus" and "Dinty" are "brothers" who have lived with us for around two years now, and are to blame whenever something has "happened". It wasn't me, it was my naughty hand, is quite often heard in this house (imaginary friends do come in useful from time to time though, especially when having to tidy away things, or serving them food that they are not so keen on, "it wasn't mummy it was so and so", calls their bluff a little sometimes!)...

You can perhaps appreciate then at being told by my four year old that there was a man in a top hat in the garden, I just muttered "oh really, that's nice" without really bothering to look. Then I discovered that there was actually a real man in a top hat in the garden, and thus we met our first Danish Chimney Sweep in full traditional regalia. When he worked out I wasn't Danish, he wanted to know if I had ever heard of Hans Christian Andersen, pointing to his outfit (which initially made me quite worried that he wasn't actually there to do any chimney sweeping, he just liked dressing up), but no, he was actually "a dentist for fireplaces" after all. After the winter we have had, I imagined our fireplace would probably need a few fillings after trying to get through that pile of wood we had ordered. So I let him in (although I hadn't booked an appointment, this is the time of year he normally comes apparently!), and seized the opportunity to ask whether I could take his picture. He seemed a bit surprised that I should want a picture of him in his elaborate gear though, "don't chimney sweeps in the UK wear this?" he asked, and then went on to tell me how it took him 8 years alone to be allowed to wear his top hat. When I told him that chimney sweeps in the UK usually just wear overalls and carry vacuum cleaners, he looked crestfallen and said he felt very sorry for them.