Friday, March 29, 2013

Eat my eggs, snobby mamas!

Yes, I rock! I am the Queen of the Paas Ontbijt or for you non-Dutchies, that means Easter Breakfast. This year yours truly, the Outcast-Expat-Yoga-Pants-Wearing Mama was asked to make stuffed eggs for my daughter's class. 

Look at these eggs! And I am the only working mother in the class! After 12 hours of working and commuting, I came home and made these stuffed eggs. I agree, they look like they are on Crack but I was cutting up the pickles at 10pm with only one eye opened.

The kids loved them and I am now the reigning teachers' pet! I arrogantly basked in the limelight while the Albert Hein Supermarket-Easter-treat buying-In-crowd Mamas scowled from the corner. I can now hold my once left-out head up high walking across the school yard, I am down with the teachers, I am Teacher's Pet, hear me ROAR!

And hello, I may not brush my hair very often and dress like I'm always on my way to the gym yet obviously never get there, but watch out all you Fashion Show Barbie Mamas on the schoolplein, I'm a creative chick!

Happy Easter!! 

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Daycare and Preschool: You suck!!

Charly and Puk with his suicase full of things to be lost

Dear Daycare and Preschool,

I would first like to say thank you for taking such good care of my babies. God knows you practically raised them and most probably taught them everything they need to know about manners, hygiene and going poo poo on the potty.

And for this, I am so grateful.

But there is one thing that I think you should know. And I know you mean well and it’s all part of this advanced teaching thing you guys have going on to try to get more kids into the daycare and preschool. I know its crisis time.

Yet, I am also in a crisis. In the last month my daughter has brought home this “logeer knuffel”or a.k.a stuffed doll that comes home with the child for a few days. I totally understand the lesson behind this Doll, but it’s just one more thing for me to keep up with (along with all the contents in its suitcase).

Trust me, my three year old is not responsible yet to keep track of this Doll. It would be all fine if she would just leave the thing home, but noooo, you guys have conditioned her to take it everywhere, give it experiences.

Come on people! The only experience this doll gets when it goes out with my daughter is its face being dragged on the street. I end up finding it left on the floor of the supermarket or behind the bench at the playground. And God forbid we lose this Doll. My daughter would be shunned by the class and  I would forever be known as “That Mother who lost Puk or Ed.”

And if this was not enough to worry about, I have to dress the damn thing twice a day. So now that’s 4 bodies I have to dress the last two mornings and nights. And to be honest, this Doll is probably the most difficult out of the four to dress because some parents must have washed his pajamas and outfits in 200F. Its clothes are like 2 sizes too small (which probably means some kid shit or snotted him all up with crusty boogies so mommy had to wash…Puke).

Great, for the last two mornings I have taken 15 extra minutes to try to squeeze this Doll into its clothes making us 15 minutes late for school this morning. So you know what I did, I called Charly’s teacher and said she was gonna be late because we were dressing that F-ing Doll.

And the icing on the cake: my daughter brought this Doll in bed with me and stuffed him practically in my mouth this morning, saying I need to cuddle him. I swear I almost vomited! Hello, germs and fecal matter from all the little snot noses who have also snuggled with this doll. So now on top of everything, I will most probably get sick!

Thank God this germ infested doll goes back to school tomorrow morning. But of course, there is yet one more thing I must do for this Doll before it goes back. I have to write all about his wonderful adventures while staying at our house IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE!!

Since I have to write in Dutch and I am warning you teachers, it will go something like this: Puk sleep at our house. See Puk run. Go Puk, go! Puk is a pain in my A double SS!

Ok, I am now finished with the bitching, so daycare and preschool, I hope you can understand why I am not too pleased with this idea. But I am only complaining to you, because to be honest, my daughter has so enjoyed the experience and I know she won’t soon for get it. So I thank you for that…



PS. Charly has lost the Doll’s teddy bear somewhere in our house and hopefully we will find it by the time she is in high school!

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Little girls are evil

The mountain of Charly's golden locks!

Little girls are evil! And I can't believe no one told me! And all this time I thought my son was the trouble maker and my sweet baby girl was the one that wore the halo!

Wow, was my bubble burst last week during the school holidays. Yet, it all started a week earlier when my sweet princess asked me repeatedly if she could go to the "kapper" (Dutch for hairdresser). I said "No", because Baby Daddy had forbidden me to cut her hair until it grew long.

Billy Ray Cyrus

So last week during the holiday I was in the kitchen and I heard their cousin, who was over playing say "Luca don't cut Charly's hair."

I ran to the room and what did I find? My baby girl standing there, looking all victimized and half bald with a mullet in the back. She looked like a mini Billy Ray Cyrus in his "Achy Breaky Heart" days.

The Tiger Mama (the literal one) came out in me and all I could think was how dare he scalp my sugar dumpling? I carried him to my room where he got more than an earful.

He just sat there and let me lecture for God only knows how long. And my daughter, she just watched with tears in her eyes, devastated that her hair was gone.

But little did I know, things were a bit different than what I had perceived. You see, when Baby Daddy came home, he got the real scoop of how Luca became the Butcher and my daughter the evil three year old mullet wearing redneck!

Prior to Baby Daddy's investigation, this is how I thought it went down :

Luca: Charly, I'm gonna cut off your Barbie's head if you don't let me cut your hair.

Charly: No, Luca I will do anything to save my dollies head. I will even sacrifice my own beautiful, long golden hair.

Luca: Don't scream for Mama or I will take these scissors and cut up your Dora shirt.

Charly: Ok, Luca do what you must do...I will do anything for the love of Dora.

But this is really how it went down...

Luca: Look what Mama forgot to put up on the shelf, the forbidden scissors. Lets cut some paper.

Charly: Are you always gonna be such a snore?? Cut-up something fun, here cut up my hair. Mama won't take me to the hairdresser anyway. So why don't you cut it? I will be your best friend.

Luca: But no, Mama will get mad.

Charly: Show her who the boss really is in this house. Here (grabbing her bangs) start here.

Luca chops away...

Charly: Now Mama will have to take me to the hairdresser and I will get hot chocolate and a lollipop!

Charly manipulated her brother into cutting her hair.

The next day I made an appointment with the hairdresser to see if there was some miracle she could perform. We got inside and Charly was all smiles, almost singing because she was so happy she was finally going to sit in the special chair and get treats.

I told the hairdresser what had happened and she took one look at Charly's head and said "I am so sorry Charly, you will have to wait until your hair grows out, there is nothing I can do."

Charly was devastated, all of the manipulation and lying for nothing. We walked out and I couldn't help it, I had to rub it in. So I said, "Well Charly, if you had waited for the "kapper" to cut your hair then she would have given you treats like she gives your brother."

Big girls are evil too...especially when it comes to teaching life lessons!

My latest guest post

Read my latest guest post on the Amsterdam Mama's website about how I discovered the true definition of family when I returned to work after my maternity leave.

Monday, March 4, 2013

How IKEA keeps me from jumping off a bridge

If you don't have a car, just rent a bakfiets to get your stash home!
Of course I would never really jump but I have to confess, sometimes when I have had it, i'm going insane and I need a time-out, I take my daughter to IKEA. I drop her off at the "babysitter" Smaland, she gets a number stamped on her hand and faster than you can say Swedish meatballs, I am ass and elbows, halfway up the stairs to the cafeteria. No, not to shop, i'm just hanging out in Ikea to relax! And I get there in time for breakfast, so I can stock up on croissants and boiled eggs and tea for €1!

Once I have my stash, I find a quiet corner on one of their Ektorp couches, pig-out and read all the trashy mags I can (that they offer.) I really don't care because for the next hour, I have a FREE babysitter and breakfast for €1!! And I am ALONE!!

Of course, the hour goes quick and I always dart back to the daycare (with my eyes closed so I am not tempted through their commercial maze) to pick up my daughter before the IKEA police come get me.

Of course, she is the happiest girl in the world thanks to the jumping balls and I have found my sanity while smelling meatballs! We like each other again! Yay!

And if I really want to splurge, on the way out I buy the little snot nose a soft ice cream cone for 50 cents! You really can't beat that with a stick!

So see, you can buy your sanity, and like everything else cheap in the world, you can buy it from IKEA and just like everything else you buy at IKEA it doesn't last long!

Friday, March 1, 2013

Takin' out the trash

Tired of taking out the trash? No need to stress, the trash container can come to you! I am not sure why, but when I walked out of my door this morning, this really excited me! And of course, I had a brilliant idea to save time and energy: I could just build up the trash on my balcony until all three balconies are full, or until the neighbors complain that the balcony smells like a giant diaper dump then have this guy swing over to my house (just across the street). And since Baby Daddy always conveniently forgets to take out the trash, I could save time not only lugging the trash down, but  hours I spend nagging!