It’s so quiet here right now that I hardly know what to do with myself. Yrsa is asleep in the stroller, Olof and Brynja went to the store, Tage and Petra are at Farmor’s, and Lydia’s in town at her friend’s house — see, I really do have to count everyone out, just to make… Read More Pause

The sad state of my blog lately is, if nothing else, proof positive of what a hands-on baby Yrsa is. I just hardly have a minute free to gather my thoughts, let alone to sit down and type them out. There have been so many times in the past several weeks that I’ve had something… Read More Scattered

I noticed last summer that Asbjørn had a lump on his right side, next to his ribcage just behind what would be his armpit. Due to his age, his breed (half Labrador), and his well-documented corpulence, I suspected it was just a fatty tumor, but since it seems to have gotten bigger in the intervening… Read More All clear

Oh, this baby. She is very sweet and cute and nice and easy-going, but man, oh man, is she ever one of those wants-to-be-held-ALL-the-time babies. She simply will not sleep unless one or the other of us is holding her, and it is wearing me right out. It feels like the only times I’m not… Read More Musings

How can an entire month already have passed since little Yrsa came along? Thirty-one whole days … judging by the look on her face, I’d say she can’t quite wrap her mind around it either.

While they were out walking this morning Petra said to Olof, “I’m going to find out your secrets, Dad. Then you’ll have to buy ice cream.”