Blue bus blues We're doing colors now. A lot of them. Most of them, actually, but the two favorites are red and blue. As in the Stockholm buses.
Most of the Stockholm buses are red (which, according to a color therapist who once visited our office, is not a good color for buses), but there are a couple of lines that have blue buses.
They're so special that people refer to them as "the blue buses" instead of "4" or "2" that they actually are.
Hannes has picked up on that so much that whenever he says "blue", it's always followed by another small word.
Now that Hannes goes to kindergarten every day, we have developed some new routines for the three of us.
Jessica and Hannes leave the house at around 8, taking the bus to the subway and then another bus to the kindergarten. Jessica, being the optimist and positive person that she is, tries to make the trip as much fun as possible.
With great success. Hannes seems to enjoy the bus and subway rides, and the hectic morning city life.
And then, in the afternoon, I drive downtown and pick him up at three. We sing in the car, all the way home. Hannes gets to sing the new songs he's learned during the day, and I get to do the classics.
Sometimes I take the longer route, so we can sing a little more.
Hannes can now put together 1 and 1 and make it 2. He can also take three words and make a coherent sentence out of them which means that he can actually tell us things that have happened somewhere else.
Like kindergarten.
Now, it's a lot easier to understand what he says if he's telling us about things that have happened when we were there.
Although, when he looks like this, it doesn't matter what he says. You just nod and smile anyway.
Hannes has a great sense of humor. Up until now, he just didn't know it. Basically, he would do things that were funny, and we'd be laughing our heads off, and he'd be a little confused. Sometimes. But now, he can actually joke.
Which is pretty amazing, considering he can't really deliver a punchline in any language that Jessica and I would understand. But it's not what it's how he says it.
Case in point: this morning Hannes and I were playing around with a puzzle. I pointed at the different things in it, and Hannes would tell me what it was. It's a game we have played any times before. In fact, it has become something of a morning routine.
Anyway, this morning, when I pointed at an image of a house and asked Hannes what it was, he paused for a second, then tilted his head a little, gave me the crooked eye, smile in an equally crooked way and said, "dog!"
And then I said, "Noooooooooooooooo!"
And we laughed.
That joke didn't even get stale after repeating it about 50 times. That's entertainment.
When I was a kid, I hung out with my Dad a lot. And when I say "a lot" I mean A LOT. Basically, I would follow him to work, and play and pretend I was a hockey goalie all day long. And I am not sure why, but the guys, My Dad's friends always called me "Eikka's boy", and hardly ever by my name - although I am sure they knew it.
(They had to, my Dad would have been talking to me by my name, not call me just his son).
Not that it ever bothered me. It was kinda cool. It was flattering, in a way. It almost felt like I was one of the guys, and that I could hang out with them just as well as my Dad.
None of my friends call Hannes for "Risto's son", almost always just Hannes, sometimes "Hanski". That, by the way, is a nickname Jessica despises. Not sure why.
I was thinking of all this the other day, and realized that that's how they do it in Iceland. In Iceland, my Dad's friends would have just been calling me by my last name.
Hannes has a couple of favorite words. Oddly enough, the "nice" words, the niceties, the polite words, the positive ones; they all come out in Swedish. The negative ones, objections, denials, grunts, those he has learned in Finnish.
And then there's one word he loves, that is the same in all languages: wow.
Everything new is wow. On our ferry ride from Stockholm to Helsinki, it was wow to the power of wow. I don't think I have ever seen anybody be that excited about being on those ferries. Not even Jessica.
The first wow was just to drive in/onto the ferry. Next one was opening the door to our cabin, followefd closely by the elevator ride back to the main deck. The slot machines were a definite wow, as well as the other elevator that had glass walls. And when they carried that baby bed into our cabin, well, you know, it was just so wow that we were speechless.
It's amazing what a human being can learn in about a year and a half.
Children like routines, I have been told. They give them a sense of security, a safety blanket (!) a rock to lean on when times get tough, and/or when they just don't want to fall asleep. Adults need routines as well, for the same reasons.
I know every Dad, every parent, sees the uniqueness in their own child, but seriously, Hannes is a very special, special boy - with very ordinary routines.
Jessica was out of town a few days, so I was left alone with Hannes. And as always, we had 80 percent blast and 20 percent frustration, evenly divided between him and myself. A lot of the times, our moments of frustration overlapped, so that when mine was just about to turn into a desperate surrender, his started.
Case in point: going to bed.
I can't blame him. If I spent such a fun day with me, I wouldn't wanna go to bed, ever, either. Let's face it, when the day begins with a quick hide-and-seek, continues with a breakfast on the balcony (and all the yoghurt you can eat), picks up pace with driving down to a big park with huge slides and fantabulous fountains and ends with hide-and-seek and a funny "let's-brush-your-teeth-song" that Jessi always sings but to which I had to make up a new Finnish text, who would want to just turn the lights off and go to bed?
Not Hannes.
In fact, my frustration led to me leaving him in his bed, where he lied for about a second before getting up screaming, throwing his stuffed animals, blankets. I closed the door and went to do the dishes. (Yes, that's right). I listened to the riot called Hannes for five minutes, and just when I thought he would have passed out, I heard the tapping of small feet in the corridor.
Hannes has climbed out of his bed, over the edge and jumped down. It is true: desperation gives people superpowers.
I gave up. We sat on the sofa for 45 minutes and watched "Consierge" on TV, until Hannes gave up. He fell asleep with his right hand still feeling after the tunes on his brand new keyboard.
Let's hope that doesn't become one of his routines. It wasn't funny.
Forgive me, dear reader, it's been a month since my last entry.
Life's a blur. Things are moving so fast in all directions that it's hard to keep up. Then again, the same applies to Hannes, so I guess I could say that Hannes is a blur, too.
A talking one, too.
This is Hannes is a nutshell:
"pappapapmamammamaettuh .. ettuh ... ettuh.. ETTUH!!... tacktacktacktackvessakakka...kakkavessa...äiti ... ohhoh... ohhoh ... lookforme lookforme ... here i am!!! banana!banana!banana! tacktacktack"
We've been going to a nearby market square for a morning tea/coffee/brunch for the past 2-3 weeks and Hannes is a local celebrity there now. This market square is, in fact, the same market square i went to with my Mom some 30-odd-years ago.
Us living so close to where my parents lived when I was born makes moving from this place difficult. I love seeing Hannes play in the playground, with the church where I was baptized towering behind him. I love going to the market square, and every time I tell Jessica (and Hannes) where our car was parked when my Dad closed the trunk on my tiny finger. I love seeing the people outside the library, and skating across the street from our apartment with Hannes was about the most fun I have ever had with my skates on.
But now we're moving. We'll just have to create our own, brand new, memories.
Parking We've developed a new routine. After breakfast, we get dressed and go to the park and play a little. This morning, like yesterday, we were the first ones there, so Hannes can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.
Almost.
See, every time we're there, I try to get him to go through this tunnel while I wait for him at the other end. And the reason is foolish and purely selfish. It's just that there is a (family-) famous photo of me in the middle of that same tunnel, and I just think it's so cool that Hannes gets to play in the same park that I did, behind the church I was baptized in, three block from the house I was born in.
Anyway, it's mostly been fun busy, with travel and seeing friends and learning new things. Hannes has probably been the one that has learned the most. He can now:
* hide the remote control
* play hide-and-seek
* play with Legos
* dig with a shovel
* say (the Finnish or Swedish equivalents of:)
Hat
bathroom
There!
Here!
Whoops
Daddy
hello
bye
yuck
Dog
Bird
Grrrrr!
It's alive! The blog. This one. It's alive and kicki... well, it's alive. I have been thinking about writing something every day. I mean, not a day has passed without me thinking about writing, I haven't even thought about writing every day. Oh, you know.
Hannes is such a sweet boy. We play hide-and-seek (he's got a new place now, it's behind another door), build Lego towers, surf the Web, you know, the usual.
And boy, oh boy, does he talk. He also understands most of what Jessica and I say, and that's in two languages. Pretty impressive. I think he might be a genius.
The doors Nothing is as exciting as a closed door. Except maybe opening one -- so you can close it again. If you don't want to take my word for it, ask Hannes.
Today, about 30 minutes ago, he learned how to open the door, by using the handle.
Yet another step towards a complete upside-down world for us. Now we have to switch the handles so that you pull up instead of pushing down when opening the doors. There are so many things we have already made more difficult to use, to discourage Hannes from using them.
I think handles and knobs on drawers are overrated anyway.
Breakfast club By now - if you've been reading this blog from the beginning, you'll know that I love our mornings. I just love how the three of us sit by the kitchen table and read our morning papers. Well, two of us read, one of us makes toasts in two languages, plays with his food, throws books on the floor and is juts having good, not-so-clean fun with everything.
And if you've really been reading this blog long enough, you know the messy person could be me. But I am, of course, referring to Hannes here.
Our daily routine has been for a while that Jessica gives Hannes his early morning bottle - simply because it would be torture if they had to wait for me to wake up. I am, after all, the guy who once slept two hours too long on a train, and had to walk back to the station from wherever they had towed the train. (I just can't hear anything).
So, Jessica gets up, gives him the bottle and then they both fall asleep again. The next time Hannes wakes up, I'll get up and play with him for an hour or so, and then we'll eat breakfast.
Yesterday morning, I didn't wake up, and with a little help from Jessica, Hannes had found his way to our bed. But, once up, he wanted to get on with the program, so he woke me up, and then went and got my glasses from the night table.
Hannes the Hoarse Like all kids (?), Hannes loves animals. He's like glued to the TV whenever there are lions or zebrasor cats and dogs. Even the Bear in the Big, Blue House seems cuddly to Hannes.
And then, of course, there are the books that we read. My favorite right now is the one where the little puppy meets the cats, and just before the pigs arrive, the duck comes walking. After our hero, the puppy, has met the horse and the cow, he grows up, and becomes two dogs who then meet two cats. Circle of life. I think. There is no text in the book, so my interpretation could be off.
Anyway, whenever Hannes sees a dog, he makes this growling noise in his hoarse voice: "Row-ra-rah-raaaaaaaaaahhh."
Sometimes he skips the growling and just goes, "mmmmmm.... aaaaaaah" whenever the animal is just too cute to resist.
Like the darkhaired man with a goatee and a fur coat he saw at the Helsinki airport a couple of weeks ago.
Out of it I bet Hannes understands everything I say. I bet he knows exactly what I mean when I say, for example, "Hannes, if you need to pee, the bathroom's in the hall." The only thing stopping him from just doing it, is the fact that he can't open the door. (Which, by the way, Jessica and I are just grateful for).
I see it every day. He amazes me every day by doing something that I had asked/told him to do but not really expected him to do. Like, go to the front door and get the newspaper and bring it to me. (Sounds like we're bringing up a dog, but please don't misunderstand me. Getting the newspaper and mail is a big ritual in our family).
I know exactly how Hannes must feel now. I remember what it was like the first x YEARS in Sweden, when I knew I could probably speak the language but never could, anyway. And I am sure if you ask some of my ex-colleagues from that time, the situation was probably exactly the same: it was as if I understood everything they said, even when my own speech was mostly just gaga.
Hannes's latest is this: About 10, 11 in the morning when he starts to feel the 6.30 am wakeup, he gets his shoes and brings them to me or Jessica. Then he sits down and puts the shoes on his feet. Like, he places the shoes on top of his tiny and chubby feet. If that's not enough, he can bring the jacket, too, so that we understand that he wants to go for a walk.
That we understood right away.
But it took us a few days to realize he wants to go for a walk simply to asleep.
Where's Hannes? I don't think I told you that I spent three days alone with Hannes, as Jessica was on a business trip in Stockholm. We had a blast.
I had decided well in advance that I would not even try to work during those three days, that Hannes would be my number one and only priority. It wasn't always easy, it wasn't a walk in the park. It was many walks in the park.
And since I am the official Family Clown, a.k.a. Funniest Dad In the World, I had an image to live up to.
If the fact that Hannes laughed so much that he peed on the carpet in the kitchen is any indication, I am still the FDIW. The secret of comedy is the delivery, so I can tell you what I did without risking losing my status.
We played ...
Ready? Have your pencils ready...
We played .. hide-and-seek. Hannes sat by a chair, and I would try to find him. I looked everywhere, including the freezer, but almost couldn't find him. When he came to me, laughing hysterically, I had to find him. And then he would go and see if he was in the freezer.
We play it every day now. It's still fun. It's hard to imagine new places for him to "hide" (Hannes always just stands by the door, but I look for him everywhere) but he still enjoys it. And everytime I find him, he runs to the freezer to see if he is in there.
Flat Stanley Hannes got a letter in the mail today. "Dear Hannnnes, thank you for bringing Stanly to town. Love, Jake. PS. Happy Chinese New Year."
Flat Stanley is a little boy who was caught under a falling bulletin board and was flattened by it. No, no, he's not hurting, he's just --- flat. But hey, there's good news. Since Stan is flat, he can travel across the world in an envelope. Which he just did. He came from Boston to Helsinki today, and yes, Hannes is going to show him the city.
And we'll be taking photos of Stan and Hannes, Stan and cars, Stan and snow, Stan and the Church, maybe even Stan and me. Maybe. Then, when we send "Flats" back to Boston, Jake and his kindergarten friends can see what Helsinki looks like, and where it is on the map.
Tired Today was one of those days when all three of us never really woke up, it seems. We were tired and cranky, and really just wanted to sleep.
We didn't want to be cranky but it was just too hard to be happy. Even Hannes got tired of trying to smile and laugh. he could only do it for ten minutes and then he fell into the crying-making noise-wanting to held -mode. If were a Sims family, I would refuse to go to shower, Jessica would definitely not study and Hannes would have peed in his pants.
Oops. I guess we are a Sims family.
When Hannes got to bed, we were all happy. He was happy to finally go to bed, and Jessica and I were just happy to do nothing.
Hannes on ice So, Hannes was a year, 2 months, 9 days and 12 hours when he took his first contact with ice. He had been sitting there, in his trolley, for half an hour maybe, and watched me, Jessica and Tipi, a friend of ours skate around, and take a couple of cool slapshots.
He liked ice. He held on to the puck and tried to run a little bit.
And no, he didn't fall down.
A friend of mine told me that the smallest skates are size 24. Hannes is 22 now.
Day in, day out Our world revolves around Hannes, as I am sure you have noticed. (Although, in all honesty, both Jessi and I find time to work and write 3-4 other blogs :) And even if we love it, it's not always easy.
It's not always fun to be feeding him ... all the time, it seems.
It's not always fun to make sure you're home by 8, so that Hannes can sleep in his own bed.
It's not always fun to drop whatever you're doing because Hannes wakes up.
It's never fun to wake up (very) early in the morning.
It's not always fun, but we do it.
Argh! That's it! I've had it! I haven't seen Jessi and Hannes for almost a week, practically (we did see for a few hours over the weekend). Now I'm in Sweden and they're in Finland. Oh, the irony.
That's it. I'm outahere. I need to go home and hug my family.
Elvis, part II You look like an angel
Walk like an angel
Talk like an angel
But I got wise
You’re the devil in disguise
Oh yes you are
The devil in disguise
When Hannes was just a few months old, I used to get him to fall asleep to "Devil in Disguise." I would hold him in my arms and rock him and sing and dance until he fell asleep.
I remember his big eyes locked on me when I looked at him and sang, "oh yes you are" and smiled.
Jessica called. Hannes has had problems getting adjusted to Swedish time, so he's got up at 5 in the morning. I know exactly what Jessica must have been thinking:
"You look like an angel
Walk like an angel
Talk like an angel
But I got wise
You’re the devil in disguise"
Dad, Dad, Dad I admit. I don't know if I feel like a real father. I'm not sure I have that daddy feeling or touch. I mean, I can easily forget that Hannes sleeps at 10. His afternoon nap could slip my mind and every time Jessica asks me if I have changed Hannes's diapers - and I haven't - I feel like whatever is in the diapers.
Now, mind you, I am not saying that I am a bad father, because I know I'm not. I'm just saying that I don't know if this is what a father's supposed to feel, you know. When Theo was, like, 2, did Heathcliff Huxtable ever forget to change his diapers? Did Pa Ingalls ever forget to make sure Laura drank enough?"
I don't know. Claire Huxtable and Ma Ingalls were the smart ones in their families, anyway.
Fortunately for me, and Hannes, Jessica is like Claire and Caroline: a smart Mom.
Look, Grandpa, hands My Dad came for a visit today. He hadn't seen Hannes in a few months so I was a little worried if Hannes would be afraid of him, or shy, you know.
He wasn't.
Hannes started talking the second Grandpa walked through the front door and, wait, no, he still hasn't stopped. He's been asleep for 3 hours now, but he's still talking.
It's really cute the way Hannes walks, holding my Dad's hand as they go from the couch to the kitchen and back. They're both so fragile in their own way, so trusting in their relationship and so damn innocent towards each other that it makes my heart melt.
About them cheeks This is Helsinki. This is January. It's dark. It's cold and dark in Helsinki in January, although it hasn't really been unbearable here .. yet. It'll come.
However, it has been below zero (celsius), with some sun. We have hade some perfect winter days here, in other words. And we take Hannes into the daylight every day, of course. And it's good for us, too, we definitely notice the difference in our energy levels when the sun's shining, compared to the days when it doesn't come up at all. Or so it feels.
Anyway, every time we're out with Hannes, somebody adores his rosy, red cheeks. Not only are his cheeks just, well, yeah, huge, but in the cutest way possible, they also turn all red the second he's outside. Hannes cheeks are what Jessica's belly was when she was pregnant with Hannes: irresistable. But just like with Jessica's belly: you can look, but you'd better not touch. No pinching allowed.
Walk, walk, walk Well now the years have gone and I've grown
From that seed you've sown
But I didn't think there'd be so many steps
I'd have to learn on my own
..
Now I'll do what I can
I'll walk like a man
And I'll keep on walkin'
- Bruce Springsteen, "Walk Like A Man", Tunnel of Love, 1987.
Hannes's record today: all the way from the kitchen door to me.
According to family legend, I learned to walk by chasing cheese. Hannes chases the remote control. Like the rest of the family.
Happy Hannes Today was one of those days when we didn't "do anything". We have some friends over from Sweden, so we basically just stayed at home all day - not counting the long walk we took, during which Hannes almost froze himself cheekless - and just hung out.
With five adults in the same apartment, me and Jessica get a chance to just sneak out and read or something. and let Hannes hold court with the three remaining and admiring underlings.
It also gives me the chance to observe our son, and notice things I might not notice otherwise, being busy with the day-to-day stuff, you know. Like, for instance, that Hannes is most often in a good mood. He IS the "Smiling Hannes" that we thought he'd be, just like Hannes Kolehmainen, the Finnish long distance runner that had that nickname in the early 20th century.
.
