A fi Mos Craciun

Ca tata al doi mici baieti, Craciunul inseamna o groaza de jucarii de cumparat si o groaza de ciocolata pentru ei. Multa lume se streseaza legat de toate cadourile de cumparat, sa nu uite ceva sau pe cineva, evitat toata aglomeratia si nebunia. Eu nu - am o sotie care se ocupa de tot, anul asta si-a cumparat pana si propriul cadou de Craciun!

Ea a avut grija sa trimita lista pe care D. a facut-o pentru Mos Craciun bunicilor si apoi a cumparat tot ce era pe lista pentru ca ei luasera alte jucarii. I-a trimis un mail surorii mele cu alte jucarii pe care copiii le-ar vrea. A cumparat si trimis cadouri pentru copiii prietenilor nostrii. M-a intrebat ce vreau, a cumparat si mi-a luat in plus si un alt cadou 'surpriza'. Si si-a cumparat si pentru ea niste parfumuri

Vazand toate astea, nu puteam sa stau cu mainile incrucisate, asa ca l-am rugat pe D. sa ma ajute. Stiam ca radioul din masina sotiei se stricase, asa ca am cumparat un altul online si am cerut sa fie livrat intr-un magazin. Si dupa aceea baiatul meu si cu mine am inceput sa avem un secret, 'vom fi Mosul pentru mama'.

Intr-un weekend i-am spus sotiei ca ne ducem sa ne plimbam - ceea ce si am facut, dar la intoarcere ne-am oprit la magazin si am luat coletul. Apoi, acasa, l-am ascuns sub haina mea pentru cateva ore. Imediat ce sotia s-a dus da faca un dus, D. a iesit, a luat pachetul si l-a ascuns in 'ascunzatoarea lui speciala'. A doua zi sotia s-a dus sa-si astepte parintii la aeroport - momentul perfect pentru a ambala cutia si a-l pune pe fiul meu sa scrie 'MAMAN' cu scrisul lui mic si tremurat (de-abia a invatat sa scrie). Apoi inapoi cu pachetul in 'ascunzatoarea lui speciala' (dupa canapea...)

Dupa asta a trebuit sa asteptam ajunul Craciunului. Si se vedea cum D. fierbe de nerabdare, incercand din rasputeri sa tina secretul. A reusit pana la urma - dar tot i-a spus ca exista un secret. Si apoi si-a dat seama ca avem o problema: cand o sa punem cadoul sub brad? Pentru ca pentru mama nu Mosul i-l aduce, ci noi. Iar dimineata cand se trezeste, cadoul trebuie sa fie acolo...

... asa ca in seara de Craciun D. si cu mine i-am spus sotiei sa se duca sus cu cel mic SI SA NU SE INTOARCA, in timp ce noi mai stam jos sa ne jucam cu niste pokemoni. Imediat ce au urcat, D. a fugit sa ia pachetul si sa-l puna sub brad. Era asa fericit de reusita ca sarea in sus de bucurie, la propriu. Apoi eu i-am propus sa mergem si noi sa ne culcam, doar ca el m-a oprit: 'Tata, TREBUIE sa ne jucam un pic cu pokemonii, nu vreau sa o mint pe mama!'.

In momentul ala l-am imbratisat mult de tot... iar a doua zi mama lui chiar si mai mult, atunci cand a descoperit ca Mosul nu a uitat-o.

Being Santa

As a father of two little boys, Christmas is all about buying lots of toys and giving them lots of chocolate. Many people stress about buying all the presents, not forgetting anything or anyone, avoiding the crowds and so on. I don't. I have a wife that takes care of everything - this year she even bought her own Christmas present herself!

So she took care of sending the list D. made for Santa to the grandparents and then she bought everything on that list as the grandparents had bought other toys. She sent a mail to my sister to buy other presents too. She bought toys and games for our friends' children. She asked me what I want, bought it and then bought me a 'surprise' present as well. And she bought herself some perfumes. 

Facing all this, I couldn't let her go away with it, so I asked D., my firstborn, if he wants to help. I knew my wife's car radio was broken, so I bought another online and had it delivered to a shop. And then my son and I started to share a secret, 'we'll be Santa for mommy'.

One weekend we told her we'll go on a little walk - we did so, but on our way back we stopped at the shop and got the package. Then, at home, we carefully hid it in my coat for a few hours. As soon as she went to take a shower, D. went outside, got it and hid it in 'his special hiding place'. The next day my wife went to pick her parents from the airport - the perfect opportunity to gift wrap the box and then have my son write 'MAMAN' on it in his little i've-just-learned-them letters. Then back in the 'special hiding place' (behind the couch).

Then we waited until Christmas' Eve. And it was visible how he was just boiling inside, dying to tell her about it. He managed to keep the secret - but told her there is a secret. And then he realized we'll have a problem: when will we put the present under the tree? Because in the morning when she wakes up she must find it...

.. so on Christmas' Eve we told her to go upstairs with the little one and then go to sleep AND NOT COME BACK, while we are still playing with some pokemons. Up she went and off he ran to get the present and put in under the tree. He was literally jumping with excitement and happiness. Then I suggested we go upstairs to sleep to and he stopped me. "Dad, we HAVE to play a little with the pokemons, I don't want to lie to mommy!".

This is where he got a huge hug from me... and the next day an even bigger one from his mother, who had found out that Santa had not forgotten her.

Mama e plecata...

... tata aici.

Sotia a fost plecata o saptamana in Statele Unite pentru servici si cat a fost plecata a trebuit sa-l ascult pe M. repetand fara oprire "maman est partie" (mama e plecata). Cateodata urmat de un "la, papa!" (aici tata). Incontinuu aceeasi fraza, in special in momente cheie gen dimineata cand i-l luam din pat sau cand i-l recuperam la cresa - de fiecare data cand se astepta la ea.

Timpul petrecut in masina intre cresa si casa a fost cel mai dificil Intre D. care vorbea intr-una povestindu-mi despre tot felul de Pokemon (cand nu imi cerea mie sa ii spun povesti cu piei-rosii si pokemoni...) si M. care repeta incontinuu ca maica-sa a plecat, capul meu exploda in mod regulat.

Noroc ca a fost inventat alcoolul!

Glumesc, noroc ca am doi copii extraordinari care sunt foarte rezonabili, extrem de rezonabili tinand cont de varsta lor. Da, binenteles ca cel mare a avut crize de gelozie in care imi cerea tot felul de nimicuri doar ca sa ma ocup de el. Da, binenteles ca cel mic a avut serile lui de 'arunc toate jucariile pe jos si apoi merg pe ele'. Dar amandoi au inteles situatia si m-au ajutat cum au putut.


Unul din momentele cele mai frumoase a fost intr-o seara, cand ii citeam o carte lui M. inainte de a-l culca si D. se uita la desene la parter. In camera lui M., langa patul lui de bebelus, este un pat normal pe care i-l folosim cateodata cand trebuie sa dormim cu el. Pentru ca D. tot striga ca vrea alte desene (cere atentie cand e gelos), l-am lasat pe M. pe patul mare, cu o carte in brate, am inchis usa si am coborat. Cand m-am intors, era in patutul lui, intins, cu ochii inchisi, gata sa doarma. L-am pupat, am stins lumina si asta a fost tot...

Am fost foarte fericit atunci. Pana a doua zi dimineata cand am avut dreptul la 30 de minute de "mama e plecata", binenteles.



Ah, si un al moment frumos a fost in masina intr-o seara cand D., cu un ton exasperat, a zis "dar  ti-am tot zis ca se intoarce mama!"

Mommy has left...

... daddy here.

My wife has been in US for one week, for work, and during her entire absence, I had to listen to M. repeating "maman est partie" (mommy has left). Sometimes followed by "la, papa!" (here, daddy!). Over and over again, especially in key moments like when getting him out of bed or getting him from the nursery - both moments when he was expecting my wife.

The time spent in the car from the nursery to our home has been particularly challenging. Between D. who kept telling me about all kinds of Pokemon (when not asking me to tell him a story with indians and pokemons...) and M. who kept repeating that his mother has left, my brains were regularly exploding.

Luckily alcohol has been invented!

Kidding, luckily I have two amazing children who are very reasonable, extremely reasonable for their age. Yes, sure the first born has had some jealousy fits, in which he was asking all kinds of nonsense only to have me taken care of him. Yes, sure the second born has had his "throw on the floor all possible items i can find then walk over them" evenings. But they understood the situation and helped me to the best of their abilities.

The highlight moment happened one evening, when I was reading a book to the little one before putting him to bed and D. was watching cartoons downstairs. In M.'s room there is his criddle and next to it a normal bed sometimes used if we need to sleep with him. Because the first born kept yelling that he wants a different cartoon (attention seeker when he's jealous), I left M. with a book on the big bed, I closed the door and went downstairs.When I got back, he was in his criddle, lying down, eyes closed, ready to sleep. I kissed him, turned off the light and that was it....

I was really happy then. It changed when the next morning I got 30 minutes of "mommy has left", of course.


Oh, and another fun moment was in the car one evening when D., with an exasperated tone, said "but we already told you she'll be back!"

Nimic, doar ma uit la circ...

Asta a raspuns baiatul cel mare cand l-am intrebat ce face. Statea pe un calut de lemn intr-un colt, cu o mina plictisita si fara sa spuna nimic. Circul la care se referea? Fratele lui cel mic, evident.

Raspunsul lui mi-a placut foarte mult, pentru ca descrie foarte bine comportamentul celui mic. Si nu imi amintesc sa fi calificat eu acest comportament asa, sunt convins ca a gasit descrierea potrivita singur.

Baiatul cel mare traieste intr-o lume imaginara, sau cel putin are o imaginatie foarte bogata. Poate sa inventeze povesti foarte diferite din nimic, ii place foarte mult sa asculte povesti, sa se uite la ele la televizor sau sa i le citim. Ii place sa joace roluri in tot felul de povesti pe care imaginatia lui le creeaza. Chiar isi pune creierul la lucru.

Cel mic, in schimb, este mult mai cu picioarele pe pamant si mult mai.. fizic. Loveste, musca, trage de par (victima preferata in ultimul timp este pisica, si-o ia in mod regulat si gratuit...). Distruge totul si creaza dezastre. Nimic nu-i place mai mult decat sa darame toate jucariile si creioanele si cartile pe jos. Si apoi sa le dea suturi sau sa le calce pe toate cu motocicleta lui. Ii place haosul si e fericit in mijlocul lui.

Si de-asta imi place acea descriere a situatiei, pentru ca este foarte potrivita activitatilor si personalitatilor copiilor nostri. Unul creaza haos si celalalt este filozofic in legatura cu asta...

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Cat scriam acest post, sotia s-a gandit sa ii puna sa stranga toti trei multe cubulete lego si sa le puna intr-o cutie mare la loc. La 30 de secunde dupa ce i-a felicitat pentru ca au terminat.... cel mic a rasturnat cutia la loc.

Nothing, I'm just watching the circus...

This is what my first born answered, when I asked him what was he doing. He was sitting on a toy horse in a corner, with a bored look, and saying nothing. The circus in question? His younger brother, of course.

I really enjoyed his answer, as it was resuming very well the behaviour of my second born. And I do not remember ever qualifying that behaviour as a circus myself, I'm pretty sure he came up with the description himself.

The first born leaves in an imaginary world, or at least has a very rich imagination. He can make up stories out of nothing, he enjoys listening to stories, watching them at tv, having them read. He likes to play roles in all kind of weird situations his imagination creates. He really makes his brain work.

The second born, on the other hand, is more down to earth and definitely more physical. Hitting, biting, pulling hair, destroying everything and creating mayhem. He enjoys nothing more than to throw all the possible toys and pens and books on the floor. And then eventually kick them or drive over everything on his bike. He likes chaos and he is happy in the middle of it.

And this is why I liked that phrase, because it really captured our kids activities and personalities. One creating mayhem and another being philosophical about it...

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While I was writing this post, my wife and the two of them put back in a big box all the lego pieces they played with. 30 seconds after she congratulated them for having finished the task... the youngest turned the box and threw all the pieces back on the floor.

Incepe cu C...

... e un animal si are 3 silabe. Ghici ce este!

Am fost surprins si foarte foarte fericit cand baiatul meu de 4 ani jumate a propus sa facem niste ghicitori. Habar n-aveam ca stie ce-i aia. Iar faptul ca stie sa numere silabele dintr-un cuvant e un bonus nesperat.

Evident, a invatat asta la scoala, ma rog, la gradinita. Nu prea imi aduc aminte ce invatam noi la varsta aia, dar clar nu astfel de subiecte avansate. Iar zilele astea invata despre civilizatiile pre-Columbiene. Ceea ce pentru mine e perfect, deoarece imaginatia mea incepuse sa isi cam atinga limitele. Imi tot cere povesti, in general in masina - asa ca tot inventez, dar la un moment dat nu prea mai am ce.

Deci acum pot sa ii spun povesti despre Columb, Vespucci, Pizzaro, maya si calendarele lor, aztecii si piramidele lor (inca n-am vorbit de sacrificiile umane), El Dorado, Machu Pichu, etc. In sfarsit pot sa folosesc la ceva o parte din cunostiintele generale pe care le am. Si, mai bine de atat, le transfer baiatului meu!

Daca primul nascut creste si cunoaste multe chestii, acelasi lucru pot sa il spun si despre al doilea, care repeta toate cuvintele pe care le aude. Cateodata bine, cateodata mai putin, dar tot e impresionant sa il ajut sa coboare de la etaj in timp ce imi numeste peretele si balustradele ("bara" pentru el)... spunand chiar ca sunt doua!

Ah, baietii mei cresc mari!

It starts with C...

... it's an animal and it has 3 syllables. Guess what it is!

I was surprised and very very happy, when my 4.5 year old suggested a game of riddles. I had no idea he knew how to play something like that. The fact that he can count the syllables in words was just the cherry on the top.

He learnt that in school, well, kindergarden. I don't remember well what we were learning at that age, but definitely not advanced topics like this. And they are studying pre-Colombian civilisations now. Which for me is great, because my imagination had started to show its limits. He keeps asking me for stories, usually while driving. I keep inventing, but there are limits to what I can come up with.

So now I can happily tell him stories about Colombus, Vespucci, Pizzaro, Mayas and their calendars, Azteks and their pyramids (have not mentioned the human sacrifices yet), El Dorado, Machu Pichu, etc. I can finally put to some use the general knowledge in my possession. And, even better, I pass it to my son!

So my firstborn is growing up and knows a lot of things. While my second born is growing up too and repeats every word he hears. Sometimes well, sometimes less, but it is still impressive to help him go downstairs while he points out the wall, the handrails.. and even saying there are two of the latter!

Ah, my boys are growing up!

Cowboys si indieni

Tata, spune-mi o poveste cu cowboys si indieni
Ce trebuie sa se intample in poveste?
O fata indiana e salvata de cowboys.
Ok... A fost odata ca niciodata o fetita indiana care...
Nu, sa zicem ca e mai mare.
O fetita mare indiana care vroia sa plece intr-o aventura. Parintilor ei, insa, le era frica de pericolele care o pasteau daca ar fi parasit cortul familiei, asa ca ea a decis sa se furiseze intr-o noapte.
Nu, sa spunem ca poate sa faca ce vrea ea.
Ok. Parintii ei au incurajat-o sa paraseasca cortul familiei si sa plece intr-o aventura. E bine asa?
Da.
Fetita a luat calul tatului ei si
Nu, avea propriul ei cal.
A luat propriul ei cal si a mers si a mers, dincolo de preriile cunoscute. Intr-o zi a ajuns la o ferma unde a intalnit niste cowboys. La inceput, lor le era frica de indian, dar cand au vazut ca e o fata, ei au
Nu, cowboys trebuie sa apara in poveste mai tarziu
Vrei sa spui tu povestea?
Nu, spune-o tu!
Deci fata indiana a calatorit departe pana a intalnit un trib de indieni rai care au capturat-o.
Cum au capturat-o?
Nu stiu, era intr-o padure si au facut o ambuscada.
Nu, sa zicem ca au facut o capcana pentru ea.
Ok, indienii rai au sapat o groapa si au acoperit-o cu ramuri si frunze, asa ca atunci cand fata indiana a mers
Nu, era o capcana cu o franghie care a ridicat-o intr-un copac.
Stii povestea? Ai auzit-o undeva? La scoala?
Nu, am visat-o.
Si nu vrei s-o spui tu?
Nu, tu trebuie sa mi-o spui.
Ok, deci indienii rai au facut o capcana dintr-o franghie legata de o creanga. Cand fata indiana a mers peste ea, franghia a prins-o de picior si fata s-a trezit atarnand de copac. Indienii rai au prins-o si au dus-o in satul lor.
Cu copac cu tot
CU copac?
Da, au legat-o de copac si au carat-o cu totul.
Ok... si apoi au ras de ea si i-au spus ca n-o sa mai fie libera niciodata. Atunci au venit cowboys, da?
Da, au venit sa o salveze.
Au venit, au impuscat toti indienii rai, au dezlegat-o pe fata indiana si
Nu, au salvat-o cu tot cu copac
Al naibii copac!

Distractie

Ca urmare a postului precedent, un exemplu de traditie in familia noastra. O sa incerc sa descriu cat mai bine haosul, dar va trebui sa va folositi imaginatia...

Scena: patul parintilor
Personaje:

• D., 4 ani (sau, cum spune el "am patru ani. Eh, de fapt patru ani si ceva acum"). Numit "Dada" de fratele lui cel mic
• M., 1 an jumate. Vocabular limitat.
• eu

Toti trei in pat... si distractia incepe.

Si daca suntem insecte? Cum adica insecte? Tata! Eu o sa fiu o insecta care se urca aici si tu o sa fii alta. M.! O sa ne intalnim si o sa discutam. Tata! M! Salut, insecto, ce mai faci? Salut! Tata! Ai vazut ce de loc avem? M! Cred ca o sa fac o siesta. Booo! Ah, m-ai speriat, M! Oh, nu, vine o insecta rea! Ce insecta rea, fratele tau? Booo! Aaargh! Repede, sa ne ascundem! Dada? Tata, ia patura si pune-o peste mine. Tata! M! Tata, acopera-ma cu patura! Da, da, te acopar. De ce? Booo! Pentru ca sunt o insecta si trebuie sa ma ascund de M. (sub patura) Shhhh! *ma trage de par* Acum ascunde-te si tu. *ma trage de par din nou* Aiie! Repede, ascunde-te *rade* Acum iesim de sub patura. Asta? Ochi Ah, insecta rea! Asta? Nas Acum sunt o broscuta. Asta? AAAAAiiiiieee! Am sarit pe tine! Gura! Asta? Oac-oac! Ureche. Aaaaiiiieeeee! Am sarit din nou pe tine! De ce sari pe mine? Pentru ca sunt o broscuta *ma ciupeste* Credeam ca esti o insecta. Nu, nu mai sunt o insecta. Sunt o broscuta care sare. *se tavaleste pe pat razand* Oac-oac! Asta? Parul lui M. Aieee! Ce s-a intamplat? Lampa? M-am lovit de pat cand am sarit. Daca nu esti atent... E ok, broastele nu simt durerea. M!, nu trage de lampa! Acum hai sa ne ascundem sub patura din nou. Asta? Ochi! Iubii!!! Nu mai pot!!!!

Cred ca asta intra la definita de 'petrecut timp de calitate cu copiii tai'

Timp. Si copii

(post original 03SEP, acum tradus in romana)
In sfarsit, de ieri pot sa ma odihnesc un pic la birou. Ultimele saptamani au fost destul de incarcate la servici, ceea ce in general inseamna ca nu prea am timp de multe chestii personale, nici nu pot sa ma odihnesc. Stiu ca pare ciudat, dar lasati-ma sa ma repet: da, eu chiar ma duc la servici sa ma odinhesc.

Nu m-as duce la munca daca nu as fi platit, dar sunt destul de fericit cand se termina weekendul. Vinerea e ok, nu mi-e prea frica de weekendul care urmeaza. Sunt chiar entuziast, fac planuri sa fac o groaza de chestii prin casa. Planuri inutile, cum ar spune nevasta, caci spre duminica seara, nu numai ca nu am avut timp sa fac jumatate din ce mi-am propus, dar ma mai si simt obosit si cu nervii la maxim.

Motivul? Binenteles, toata lumea impreuna... COPIII. Da, da, ii iubesc, sunt fericit sa-i am, si toate alea. Dar nu ar putea sa doarma si ei mai tarziu in weekenduri? Nici macar nu cer pana la ora 9 sau ceva asa de extrem. Orice mai tarziu de 7 dimineata ar fi extraordinar! Si nu ar putea si ei sa se joace singuri? Cum se face ca in momentul in care ma asez pe canapea in fata televizorului, in mai putin de 2 minute am doi copii pe cap (la propriu), tipand si urland, ciupindu-ma si lovindu-ma pe mine sau intre ei?

Ceea ce ma epuizeaza nu e ca nu am timp sa fac ce as vrea in weekenduri, ci senzatia ca ma bat cu morile de vant. Dau cu matura? Dupa aia mancam si e mai rau ca inainte. Pun jucariile lor la loc (sau ii pun pe ei sa o faca - haha, tare gluma!)? O ora mai tarziu podeaua e un camp de mine din nou. 

Deci da, copiii ne trezesc devreme si ne tin ocupati tot weekendul. Si tot ce reusim sa facem e rezultatul unei planificari si negocieri foarte precise. "Tu duci copiii acolo ca eu sa ma uit la meci". "Sa speram ca unul doarme, tu petreci timp cu celalalt, iar eu pot sa fac un dus". Si asa mai departe. Binenteles, reusim sa facem chesti prin casa, de la clasicele gatit, curat, spalat, la uitat la un meci sau la un film. Dar intotdeauna cu un sentiment de reusita, de a fi reusit sa facem asta in ciuda tuturor pronosticurilor. Sa facem ceva in weekend pare a fi o reusita, nu normalul.

Ceea ce ne face sa ne simtim mai bine, insa, este cand vorbim cu alti parinti. Care au aceleasi probleme ca noi. Asta chiar e placut! Si linistitor, oarecum.

Cam atat in acest post. In curand ma duc sa-l iau pe primul de la gradinita (prima zi dupa vacantele de vara) si pe al doilea de la cresa. Si apoi acasa, pentru a petrece o seara tipica impreuna, jucandu-ne si aruncand jucarii peste tot (ei), mancare pe jos (tot ei), vorbind fara oprire (ei din nou, plus nevasta), lovindu-ma (mereu ei, cateodata si nevasta) si la final culcandu-ne (toti).

Si stiti ce? De-abia astept sa petrec seara cu familia mea. Sunt un fraier, stiu - dar ce sa fac, ii iubesc.

Tata encore dodo. Paaa tata

D. a inceput sa vorbeasca foarte devreme. Si de atunci nu a mai tacut, dar asta e alta poveste. M., in schimb, a inceput ceva mai greu. In afara de clasicele tata, mama, avea destul de putine cuvinte pronuntate. Pana acum doua saptamani, cand vocabularul lui s-a imbogatit brusc.

A inceput sa pronunte bine destul de multe cuvinte - sau poate doar am inceput noi sa le intelegem mai bine. Unele in romana (tata, papa), altele in franceza (encore - inca, bus - autobuz), altele mai simplificate (miau - pisica, muu - vaca, iaurt), iar unele pe limba lui (vruvru - masina, ganga - cal/elefant/crocodil). In plus, ca si D., incepe sa fie bilingv, stiind un concept in ambele limbi si stiind ca cele doua cuvinte reprezinta acelasi lucru. Clasicul paa e inlocuit de un 'auvoir' cand il spune cuiva care vorbeste franceza. Si bietul de el a trecut in sfarsit peste confuzia 'papa' care inseamna doua lucruri diferite. Era amuzant cand la cresa i se spunea 'uite-l pe papa' si el cauta mancare...

Insa nu vocabularul mai bogat m-a impresionat de curand, ci faptul ca a inceput sa faca fraze. De la asocieri simple gen 'vruvru mama' sau 'papa miau', la descrieri de situatii. Cand se trezeste dimineata, striga 'mama'. Dar daca ma duc eu la el in camera, se uita la mine si zice 'tata? mama paa...'. Iar daca eu ii spun ca mama nu a plecat, doar face dus, intelege si corecteaza 'mama nu paa. mama apa'.

Chestia care m-a impresionat insa a fost ieri dimineata. O. l-a luat din patul lui si trecand pe langa camera noastra, i-a aratat ca eu sunt inca in pat. Evident ca a descris situatia: 'tata encore dodo'. Si a fost suficient de dragut sa propuna sa ma lase linistit 'paa tata'.

Pe moment am fost chiar fericit, dar acum ma tot gandesc cu frica la ce ma asteapta. Daca o sa devina la fel de guraliv ca fratele lui, eu chiar n-o sa mai apuc sa scot niciun cuvant in casa...

Daddy still sleeps

D. has started to speak at an early age. And since then he hasn't stopped, but that's a different story. M., on the other hand, has had a slower start. Besides the classic (daddy, mommy), he was using only a few words. Until two weeks ago, when his vocabulary has suddenly become richer.

He started to speak correctly quite a few words - or maybe we have started to better understand them. Some in Romanian (tata - daddy, papa - food), some in French (encore - again, bus), some made easier (meow - cat, moo - cow/yogurt), while some in his own language (vruvru - car, ganga - horse/elephant/crocodile). Even more, like D., he starts to be at ease in both languages, knowing that two different words mean the same thing, but in a different language. The classical 'paa' (bye in Romania) is replaced by an 'auvoir' when talking to someone French. And the poor guy has finally managed to get past the 'papa' confusion. That means 'daddy' in French and 'food' in Romanian. It was funny when at the nursery they were pointing at me and saying 'look, there's daddy' and he was looking for food...

It's not the richer vocabulary that impressed me lately, but the fact that he starts to build phrases. From simple associations like 'vruvru mama' (mommy's car) or 'papa meow' (cat's food), to describing situations. When he wakes up in the mornings, he yells 'mama'. But if I'm going to get him, he looks at me and says 'tata? mama paa...' (daddy? mommy bye...). And if I tell him his mother has not left, she's just taking a shower, he quickly corrects it to 'mama nu paa. mama apa' (mommy not bye. mommy water).

The thing that triggerred this post happened yesterday morning. His mother got him from his bed and, going pas our bedroom, showed him I was still in bed. Of course he described the situation: 'tata encore dodo' (daddy still sleeps). And he was even nice enough to suggest I should be left alone 'paa tata' (bye daddy).

On the moment I was quite happy, but now I am starting to dread the future. If he will become as talkative as his brother, I won't get a chance of placing one world in this house...

Cowboys and indians

Daddy, tell me a story with cowboys and indians.
What should happen in the story?
An indian girl is being rescued by cowboys.
Ok.. Once upon a time there was a little indian girl who...
No, let's say that she is older.
An older indian girl who wanted to leave on an adventure. Her parents, however, were afraid that too many dangers were expecting her if she left the family wigwam, so she decided to sneak out one night.
No, let's say that she can do whatever she wants.
Ok. Her parents encouraged her to leave the family wigwam and go on an adventure. Is it ok like this?
Yes.
She took her father's horse and
No, she had her own horse.
She took her own horse and travelled and travelled, beyond the known pastures. One day she reached a farm, where she met some cowboys. At first, the cowboys were afraid of the indian, but when they saw she's a girl, they
No, the cowboys should enter the story later
D, do you want to tell the story?
No, you tell it!
So the indian girl travelled far until she met a tribe of bad indians, who captured her.
How did they capture her?
I don't know, she was in the forest and they ambushed her.
No, let's say they made a trap for her.
Ok, the bad indians had digged a hole in the ground and had covered it with branches and leaves, so that when the indian girl walked
No, it was a trap with a rope that lifted her up in a tree.
D, do you know the story? Have you heard it at school?
No, I dreamt about it.
And don't you want to tell it?
No, you should tell it to me
Ok, so the bad indians made a trap out of a rope attached to a branch. When the indian girl walked past it, the rope caught her leg and soon she was dangling from the tree. The bad indians got her and took her to their village.
With the tree
WITH the tree?
Yes, the bound her to the tree and carried her with the tree.
Ok... and then they laughed at her and told her she'll never be free ever again. Then the cowboys came, correct?
Yes, the cowboys came to rescue her.
The cowboys came, shot all the bad indians, dettached the indian girl and
No, they saved her with the tree
Bloody tree!

Fun!

As a follow up to yesterday's post, here is our recent family tradition in the evenings. I'll try my best to describe it to you, but you'll have to use your imagination too...

Scene: our double bed
Characters:

• D., 4 years old (or, in his words, "four years old. Well, four years and something now"). Called "Dada" by his little brother.
• M., 1.5 years old. Limited vocabulary.
• and myself

All three of us in the bed... and the fun starts.


And if we were insects? What do you mean, insects? Daddy! I will be an insect that climbs here, you will be another insect. M.! We'll meet up and discuss. Daddy! M! Hello, insect, how are you? Hello! Daddy! Have you seen all the place we have here? M! I think I'll take a nap. Booo! Ah, you scared me, M! Oh, no, a bad insect is coming! Which bad insect, your brother? Booo! Aaargh! Quickly, let's hide! Dada? Dad, you take this blanket and put it over me. Daddy! M! Dad, cover me with the blanket! Yes, yes, I'll cover you. Why? Booo! Because I'm an insect and I need to hide from M. (under blanket) Shhhh! *pulls my hair* And now you hide too. *pulls my hair again* Aiie! Quickly, hide! *laughs* Now we go out. This? Eye Ah, the bad insect! This? Nose Now I'm a frog. This? AAAAAiiiiieee!  I jumped on you! Mouth! This? Ribbit! Ear Aaaaiiiieeeee!  I jumped on you again!
Why do you jump on me? Because I'm a frog!  *pinches me* I thought you were an insect.No, I'm not an insect anymore, I'm a frog and frogs jump. *rolls on the bed laughing* Ribbit!  This? M's hair
Aieee! What happened? Lamp? I hurt myself on the bed when I jumped. If you're not careful...
It's ok, the frogs don't feel pain. Don't pull the lamp! Now let's hide under the blanket again. This? Eye! Honeyyyyy! I can't do it anymore!

I think this is what it is usually called "spending quality time with your children"...

Time. And kids.

Finally, since yesterday, I can finally rest a little at the office. The past weeks have been quite consuming at the office, which generally means I don't get many personal things done, nor can I get some well deserved rest. I know some of my work colleagues are reading this, so let me assure you: yes, you have read that right, I actually come at the office to rest.

While I wouldn't go to the office if I was not paid for it, I really am happy when the weekend is over. Fridays are fine, I am not dreading the upcoming weekend too much. I am usually enthusiastic, making plans to do lots of stuff around the house. Useless plans, as my wife is saying, as by Sunday evening not only I haven't had the time to do half of what I would have liked, I also feel very tired and with my nerves stretched to the maximum.

The reason? Of course, everyone together now.... CHILDREN. Yes, yes, I love them, I'm happy to have them, and all the other crap. But couldn't they just sleep late on weekends? I'm not even asking for 9am or something like that. Anything later than 7am would be great! And couldn't they just play by themselves? Why is it that when I sit on the couch in front of the TV, in less than 2 minutes I have two kids on my head (literally), yelling and screaming, and pinching and hitting me or each other?

It's not just a question of having time to do stuff during the weekends, it's uselessness of what I do that gets to me. I swipe the floor? Then we have lunch or dinner and it's worse than before. I range their toys (or make them do it - hah, good one!)? 1 hour later the floor is a mine field again. I don't do their laundry, buy my wife is complaining she is washing 15 t-shirts of one of the children every week...

So yes, children are waking us early and keeping us busy the entire weekend. And every bit of stuff we want to do is subject to very careful planning and negotiation. "You take the kids there so that I can watch the match". "Let's hope one sleeps, you spend time with the other, so that I can take a shower". And so on. Yes, we get things done around the house. The typical chores, but also "fun" stuff like watching ASSE (football) and RC Toulon (rugby) weekend matches. But always with a feeling of defiance, of having managed to do that despite the odds. Managing to do stuff for us is the exploit, not the normality.

What make things better, however, is that when we talk to other parents, they have exactly the same problems. That feels good! And reassuring, somehow.

Anyway, the above is not only a vent, but also an explanation of why I haven't posted lately - too busy at work, too tired and busy at home. I am simply not so naive anymore to believe I can have one hour at the PC at home without them coming to ask me for a story or simply to play with them. It's also a question of priorities: I think it is less important to blog than to spend time with my kids. And, of course, a lot less important than to watch a match while drinking some beers - I need that for my sanity.

Well, I'll soon go and pick the oldest from the kindergarden (first day after the Summer holidays today) and the youngest at the nursery. And then at home we'll spend the typical evening together, playing and throwing toys everywhere (them) and food on the floor (them again) and speaking without stopping (them again, plus the wife) and hitting me (them again, sometimes the wife too) and then finally going to bed (all of us).

And you know what? I am actually looking forward to spend the evening again with my family... Silly me, I know - but love can't be helped.

1ADT vs 2ADT 1CHD 1INF

In case you don't know it, I work for a company that's behind many major actors in the travel industry, especially airlines. At my job, we usually have to test new features (e.g., what happens if you want to change your return flight when you haven't taken the first flight). One of the things we do is to test various combinations of parameters, including how many passengers are travelling. Two of the most frequent tests include one passenger travelling alone (1ADT for adult) or a family travelling together (2ADT 1CHD 1INF for adults, child, infant).

This Summer we went to Romania for the holidays. When I booked the plane tickets I laughed when seeing how I travel now: 2ADT 1CHD 1INF... We are now the typical family travelling :) Those of you who have kids and have travelled by plane with them, know what this configuration implies. The amount of stuff you need to take, the huge suitcases full of tens of sets of child clothes - they seem to go through 2-3 t-shirts every day. And don't forget the diapers, milk, baby food, lots of toys and other stuff. Be careful what you can take with you in the plane and what needs to be left in the main luggage. Keep the baby carriage with you in the airport, but leave it when entering the plane and hope you'll get it at the arrival. Take your seat and start the begging: please don't start screaming, please keep quiet, please don't try to leave your seat, please shut up, please fall asleep.

In short, flying with children is not too much fun, and I am saying this knowing perfectly well that our two boys are angels when compared to others I've seen on the planes. Anyways. I flew back from Romania earlier than the rest, wife and kids coming back after one week. As a side note, although I was going to the office during the day, I consider that my real holidays happened during that week. I love them, of course (the wife will probably read this, so just in case), but some time without them is so nice... I disgress, again. My point is that I travelled back alone (1ADT).

And how nice it is! I had forgotten the liberty you have when travelling alone! Suitcase dropped, just me, hands in my pockets. I could read in the plane. I could think in the plane. I got bored in the plane. Heck, I could even sleep in the plane. When in transit, I entered shops and just looked around. With too much time on my hands, I even sat down and had three beers! I travelled alone... 

When people are asking how much your life changes when you have children, I usually share the typical joys of parenthood. You know, sleep deprivation, impossibility to have a beer and watch the game at TV without someone yelling in your lap, back aches from picking toys from the floor every evening, all the stuff sticking to your feet after they have eaten, impossibility to have a conversation with another adult, etc. You know, parenthood. Quite well summarized here.

I have never thought to include travelling by plane in my examples of how parenthood changes your life. But I do now, as I have tasted again of that sweet sensation of travelling alone... And when my colleagues will test some features, I will make sure they know that 1ADT is not just another use case, different from 2ADT 1CHD 1INF. They are simply a world apart...