I'm Miki -- a 29-year-old mother of two. Oh, did I say 29? I meant 32. Uh, 34. Eh-hem. Anyway, my husband and I have been married for five years. I'm American. He's Norwegian. We live in Norway. We'll call him Seven. His real name is only five letters long, but is a virtual tongue-twister for Americans. I don't know why that is. I was scared of it, too, the first time I heard it. I don't think anyone in the U.S. ever pronounced his name right on the first try when meeting him.
Him: Hi, I'm Svein. (pronounced svane)
Random American: Hi, Sven. Nice to meet you.
(All Americans know that tall, blond Scandanavian men are called Sven.)
Him: Hi, I'm Svein.
Different American: Huh?
My Dad: So how's Svin?
Me: Uh, Dad. Svin actually means pig in Norwegian. It's SVEIN.
And so it went. Our favorite was when we were introduced at a formal dinner.
"This is Lt. so-and-so (I was in the Air Force once upon a time) and her husband Seven."
My husband Seven. My husbands don't have names anymore. Just numbers. "Ugh! Six was such a jerk. Kicked him to the curb. Meet Seven!" Maybe you just had to be there, but we laughed and laughed. So we're all getting nicknames for this blog, his is Seven.
So about me. Hmmm. It's not that I don't have interests. I just don't really have time for interests. Have I mentioned that I have two kids? Before kids, I loved to read. I loved to travel. I loved to write. I loved to write about travelling. And reading. And whatever random thing came into my head. Now, I love to
The stars of my blog. . .
Nicky is our mini man. He's four going on 44. Sometimes I think he must have lived before. He's so wise beyond his years. He's sensitive, observant and remembers everything. He's got a wonderful, wry sense of humor that he reserves only for those he's comfortable with. He's a fantastic big brother (most days!) and takes very good care of his little sister. He also screeches like a banshee if one drop of water gets into his eye when he's in the bath. He hates, HATES water in his eyes. One of his many wonderful quirks.
Laney is our sunshine girl. She's 2. She's a charmer, and she knows it. She loves to laugh and to make others laugh. It's good that she likes to be the center of attention, because she just always is. There is something magnetic about her. She is also very helpful. She loves to come in and help me use the toilet. It's a little disconcerting to fight off her helpful little hands when I'm, um, finishing up. "No, thanks, Laney. I don't need help. Hey! Stop that. No more helping Mommy!" Then she cries and directs her "Mean Mommy!" eyes at me. She IS just trying to help after all.
And wait! There's more! I'm more than just a mommy. Sometimes I forget that. I'm also a wife. A daughter. A potato-shaped woman. A friend. Maybe I'll be able to record some of those adventures here too.
Unless I get distracted. . .or overwhelmed. . .or just don't finish what I start.
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