Harold is aging at an alarming rate.  That’s right, our son is now 1 month old and already showing signs of getting even older.  He spent the last night letting us know exactly where he was and that he didn’t really know what he wanted (but he wanted something, that’s for sure), basically keeping us on our toes.

He has definitely taken control of our little home and rules with an iron fist.

We have, however, reached a happy balance in which everyone can enjoy their days together, at least, when everyone gets what they want.  Harold is in very little control of his needs right now, as most newborns simply need what they need when they need it: sleep, food, changing, attention… and the list grows daily.  The cats aren’t getting as much time with us as they used to but they don’t seem too upset by this.  As you can see good reader, they take their moments where they can.

Elísabet needs her rest, which she gets when Harold is kind enough to grant it.  I need to finish this next week of work, after which I will go on paternity leave and have the opportunity to be a little more helpful around the house.  I look forward to it.

Harold has enjoyed many new things in his first month, including trips to the grocery store, visits from family friends (both local and all the way from Africa), meeting possible playmates and travelling to his Grandparents’ home.  Between naps, baths, meals and changings he’s grown and grown, now more than 5 kilos and rapidly outgrowing clothes that are made for 3-4 month olds.

And we couldn’t be happier.  This last month has been both the longest and shortest for our family.  Hard to believe that a whole month has passed since Harold Paul Peter came into our lives, yet at the same time we’ve been with him for every moment of his entire life.

Hard to believe that the best is yet to come.

I am a father, my wife a mother.

Without becoming overly emotional or waxing too poetic, I am starting to see the world around me with new eyes.  Not the eyes of my son, but my son’s new world through my old(er) eyes.

 My son is now 13 days old, big, healthy and hungry.  My wife is at home with Harold during the day while I am at work or at school.  It is during the time when I am not at home that I look about and see a new world, or perhaps the world again.  An example may illustrate this best.

I saw the moon this week, but it has been a very long time since I really looked at it.  The sky was that shade of blue which lends itself to the moon for daytime viewing, and the moon was a chalky detailed outline just hanging there as I walked in the woods with my students.  This moon, however, wasn’t my moon anymore.  The moon is Harold’s now, to do with as he will.

Will he walk on it someday?  Will he see a colony on the moon in his lifetime?  What was once a subject reserved for science-fiction novels and television programs may be a reality for my 13 day-old son.  What will the moon mean to my son, and how different will that meaning be from my own?

For that matter, what will Iceland look like for Harold, or Canada, or the world?  Since he was born I have been having a whole lot more “real moments” than I have in years, and they are all about him and his new world.  My view of things is changing daily, and I think my world is gradually being replaced by Harold’s newer, fresher version.  Music as well, but perhaps I’ll write more about those revelations some other time.

I can hear my son and his mother now, together in the living room as I sit here and reflect on the new perspectives he has been showing me.  I think I’ll go and see what he has in store for me today.

Have a good weekend everyone.

David

About 18 hours before Harold was born

I’m not so big and puffy right now.  Anyway, the next morning at about 6 or 7, I had the first contractions. Less than 9 hours later, Harold was born. Big and strong baby.

Harold being dressed for the first time, appr. 3 hours after being born.

I feel better today than I have in a while. I am less tired, less puffy and somehow better balanced, which is good. I am wondering if this is the calm before the storm… Well, at least we are ready.

I sent my friend a text today as it is her husband’s birthday. She called me back immediately and said that I shouldn’t be sending her messages if it’s not announcing the baby’s birth. I don’t know what’s going on with people around me. I’m not supposed to call my husband unless I am letting him know that labour has started and now, I can’t text my friends unless it’s about the baby.

I still feel fine but I am containing a lot of fluids, so now I have very nice sausage fingers and a puffy face. I told me aforementioned friend that I feel like I have silicon or something in my lips and she said:

“Not everyone would be complaining about that”

My reply:

“I probably wouldn’t either if wasn’t also in my cheeks and chin as well!”

David was really reluctant to leave for school/work today and kept asking me how I was feeling. I am feeling fine, as I have been throughout the whole pregnancy. It just feels a little weird to be waiting for something that can happen anytime in the next 2 weeks and not to have any clue as to when is the most likely time. I guess I’ll just have to be patient.

- Elísabet

I had a “real-moment” today that I thought I just had to mention.  It has to do with my wife, her pregnancy, a cat and a bird.

My lovely wife Elísabet María had just dropped me off at school, where I was teaching for the day.  She has decided that it will be best for her to drive me to work and quite often pick me up afterwards while she can.  Gets her out of the house at least once/twice a day, I suppose.

And I love her for it, because I get to the school fresh and ready.  This morning was no different.  As I have been saying for the last few days, I told her “if there was anything happening, you know… down there, anything babylike or birth-connected, then call me and I will meet you at home or the hospital or whatever I can do.”  Luckily for me the school I teach at is a ten minute walk from the hospital, or perhaps only half that at a screaming full-out sprint (which I will probably be doing).

The time was just before 10:00 am and I was just wrapping up my second class of second-graders, talking about our emotions in English and trying to recognize words for emotions written in English. 

Then the phone rang.

As I took it out of my pocket, not thinking anything particular at the time, I looked at the caller’s ID.  Time, at that point, slowed to a near stop and the second-grade girls all looked at my rapidly whitening face.    Silence reigned.

“Hello?”

“…hello.” she said, with a throaty edge.  I thought this was it, and thirteen days early at that.

“The cat brought in a bird but didn’t kill it.  She let it go in the office and now it’s flying around and there are feathers everywhere.  What should I do?”

I never really understood from personal experience what was meant by ‘reality check’ but I can’t say that anymore now, can I?  In that moment between recognizing the picture of my wife that my phone displays when she calls, and answering her question about what to do when a cat brings a live bird into the house, I suddenly had all the responsibilities of father with a new child and a wife in labour and I needed to get home to her right away.

That moment was probably the most real one I have had since she agreed to marry me.

Just thought I’d share that with all of you.  My wife has since been properly chastised for almost making me faint in front of a group of six-year old girls.

David

I am well aware that I/we have not written or typed at this location in a good long time, since we were in Norway or somesuch.  Nothing has made me more aware of this than the fact that my dear and pregnant wife is in her last few weeks of pregnancy, so I can truthfully say that it has been at least 8 or 8 and 1/2 months since there has been any bloggin’ going on.

Much has occured since that time.  Here’s the highlights:

• we are both working like fiends: Elísabet is still running the translation company while I am an English/outdoor-ed/swimming teacher for my private school system
• my wife got well and pregnant, but not with the triplets I had been hoping for 
• I started my Masters degree in Folklore
• we expect our child to arrive at the end of October; I have requested that she hold him/her in until the 31st, for what should be obvious reasons

Yes, all this has occured and even more, which need not necessarily be discussed here.  A teaser: I am a viking now, full costume and everything (including swords & shields).  However, I/we have returned and will soon be mommy and daddy.  A scary thought, to say the least.

I am, of course, experiencing all the emotions attributed to the expectant father.  I am nervous about the birth, because my wife will be in pain.  I am afraid that the life-lessons I can teach my child will not be enough, because I haven’t got the lesson plans drawn up or a curriculum to work from (a little teacher humour for all of you out there).  I am sad for the future of my children because the world is worse today than it was yesterday.  I am full of hope that this next generation of my family can do better than mine has done.

I am also full of hope that the child has my wife’s looks, bless her.

Slowly the days are getting shorter here in Reykjavík, and the winds have come for the fall season.  As my mother, myself and two very good friends of mine were born in this month I can say that there are worse months to be born in.  October is the exchange, the gateway between the light times into the darkness.  It’s a good balance and a great time to be born.

Even though my wife is sick , and my back is very sore due to a slipped disk, we both were almost on our feet when the yanks finally pulled their goalie and we spanked them to a 7-4 win.  Now Ottowa is singing our national anthem and the entire country swells with pride.  That has to be one of the best games I have ever seen, and promises a future of incredible hockey in the NHL.  Pride.

Happy New Year everyone.

We have travelled many long miles, braved icy winds and the cold northern climes of Manitoba.  Now we triumphantly return to Winnipeg and my Mother’s comfortable guest-room with it’s pull-out-couch.

We drove all day on Monday last, arriving in Swan River after 6 o’clock in the evening.  My sister was an excellent host, as was her husband Kevin.  That’s saying something, as I am a very demanding guest.  We ate many wonderful meals, including real ham, turkey, ribs and fine soup.  My wife and I brought with us the Icelandic hangikjot, which is smoked lamb boiled and served cold (though I prefer it hot).  The smell of the boiling meat fills the house on December 23rd and also makes my mouth water.  We had the opportunity to visit my Uncle’s farm as well and had an excellent meal made by my Aunt Betty, just as she made when I was young.  My Uncle invited me to hunt elk with him in the New Year before I return to Iceland, and with amy luck I will be able to take him up on it.  It has been almost a decade since I last hunted, and it would certainly be a welcome experience to do so again.

Sadly enough the cold temperatures (-30 celsius) prevented us from many activities such as sleigh-rides and sliding, but we managed a good walk on a brisk -35 day.  Christmas brought with it many gifts, and we were all very fortunate.  We now have a computerized picture frame that downloads several digital pictures and cycles slowly through them.  A wonder.

The most spectacular gift f our holiday season, I must say, was my sister’s wii, complete with nunchuck and fit-expansion.  I hope I got that right.  We all played the wii games, but it was my sister who reigned supreme in boxing and baseball.  I don’t think I have ever had as much fun playing a video game.

On boxing day we went to the curling club and took part in the family bonspiel, which was my wife’s first experience with curling. As she puts it she can no longer laugh at curling on the television.  Now she knows it is a lot harder than it looks.

Sadly, our holiday in Swan River was not entirely fun and games.  The slipped disk in my back takes it’s toll daily, and Elisabet caught a cold.  This layed us both on the sofa for almost an entire day, our last day at my sister’s home.  Today a large breakfast of ham and eggs gave us the strength to make the long trip back to Winnipeg through Dauphin, Ste. Rose and Neepawa.  And this leads us back to the pull-out couch and a glass of single-malt whiskey.  Not too bad so far, this holiday in Canada.

More to come, as more comes to us.

P.S. I hope someone got the Simpsons reference in the title.