I will now write about something I’ve been avoiding for months.  When we left for our month-long trip to Canada during Easter we left our beloved cat with Ørjan’s mom.  He’s been out there many times before and we’ve never had a problem, but it seems as though two weeks into our trip he disappeared.  We had no idea until we pulled up to our driveway (home in Norway) when I asked her where my cat was and her reply was, “I really don’t know.  It’s been over a week since I saw him”.  Well what the fucking hell???  Are you kidding me?  Our cat disappeared and you never bothered to mention it?  Her response and explanation was basically that cats (outdoor cats especially) just disappear and it’s no big deal.  That they can disappear for months or even years at a time and still come back.  Ok.  Whatever.  I gave her the responsibility to watch our cat and she can’t even apologize?  She can only make excuses?  Right.  I was infuriated.  From time to time they’d still see him in the garden and the food they’d put out would be gone the next day, but I still never felt ok knowing he might be out there.

When we first met our cat he was just a kitten stuck in a tree.  He belonged to our nextdoor neighbour and could jump through our doors and windows and we’d find him curled up on our sofa and chairs.  I remember one morning in particular I woke up and told Ørjan that I dreamt about the cat and that I could swear I heard him purring.  We laughed it off but when I came out of the bedroom there he was curled up on a chair.  After almost a year it became quite apparent that he had adopted us.  The neighbour eventually moved to another town and left the cat without notice so we realized that he had definitely become ours.  We had him taken to the vet, had him fixed, and from that point we officially claimed him.  He came into our life when we both needed something. I who had never had a pet was overcome with joy.  I was so overwhelmed that he was the most wonderful and gentle cat I had ever met.  He took to Magnus and Sophie very well, we never had any behaviour issues with him, and he was very easy to look after because he was an indoor-outdoor cat.

‘

It’s been almost 4 months since he’s been gone.  All the hopeful searches have ended in disappointment.  We believe that he’s still alive because we know what kind of cat he is.  He’s an outdoor-cat that could be gone for days and survive on birds and mice, but he’s also so gentle and quiet that if he found someone that would feed him he’d be very devoted to them.  We hope that this is the case because not knowing the details of how he may of died is killing us.  Ørjan’s mom lives on the outskirts of a bigger city where it’s just forest and the nearest visit to a neighbour requires a long walk or a car ride.  I hope to god he’s found a good home for now.  I still have hope that he’ll return to us soon.  Without being too mean, we also have our suspicions that a neighbour has actually taken him.  After Ørjan inquired about our cat the neighbour reacted in such a way that you knew he was lying.  Since he’s not our neighbour and we don’t live there we can’t really make an accusations, but we’ve heard a couple things that really make us doubt their honesty.

Now on to the positive news?  After a recent trip to a cat shelter in search of our own cat, we found someone new.  We felt it within an instant that he was meant to be with us.  When we were first introduced to him I couldn’t control my crying because I just wanted my own cat back, but I also thought this could be something new and possibly positive for our lives.  The girls working at the shelter must have thought I was a complete nutjob because I couldn’t even breathe from my crying.  We met him on a Thursday, took him home on a Friday, and now it’s Sunday and he’s downstairs sleeping in Sophie’s room.  We haven’t quite figured him out, but we like his temperment and his playfulness.  Sophie loves talking to him, and I think Magnus likes having a new friend around.

He is in no way a replacement, and it’s more than likely that since we’ve brought him home Kitty will show up, but this cat needed a home and we’re ready for it.  Having two cats would be fine with everyone.  My only fear is that if our cat turns up, I would hate that he would feel he’s been replaced.  Maybe I’m just overthinking the situation.  Still.  It’s very hard for me to talk about any of this but I thought I should introduce our new cat.  (Yet to be named.  Any suggestions?)

It’s been a while since I last touched on our recent trip to Canada.  For more reasons than I’d like to discuss it wasn’t exactly what I’d call a vacation.  So many people have asked how the trip went and suggest that it must have been great to have an extra week.  The reality of the situation was that from beginning to end we never really had a chance to relax and enjoy it as a vacation.  Travel disruptions (BA’s cabin crew strike, NSB forgetting about DST changes, VOLCANOES!) as well as diarrhea and chickenpox didn’t exactly add anything interesting into the pot.  At one point this interesting “stew of a vacation” almost boiled over and we all just wanted to call it quits.  For almost two days I cried that I wanted to be home and then on the second to last day I regretted that I didn’t take advantage of the extra time.  I suppose in times like those one can never really think clearly or as wisely as one could.

Now when I look back on how the trip went I’d say it was a 50-50 so-so trip.  Some good, some very bad, and some moments of pure satisfaction.  We stayed closer to home which I’d say was good for my mum.  (Being that she really only gets to see us a couple weeks of the year… if that.)  Ørjan spent almost two weeks of his time cleaning out my mum’s basement as well as renovating her bedroom.  I’m not sure if I mentioned it much but we surprised my mum with a new bedroom.  He cleaned out her room, installed new flooring, assembled the new furniture, and then tried to give her a nice living space because he had to do it.  This of course was never easy because there was one factor that we avoided discussing from the beginning: her boyfriend.  We had to be very careful presenting him with the news that we were going to do things in the house, and also had to do it in a way that wouldn’t offend him because he has a tendency to become jealous and hurtful.

I tried to keep calm but I constantly felt like someone was shooting spitballs at me.  I cooked every meal 2-3 times a day in a very small and unkept kitchen (zero tools, the dullest knives I’ve ever met, and unused appliances everywhere!), and I could barely stand to touch the food.  As someone that loves food and has respect for the food I prepare and eat, I was appalled to learn that my mother had gotten to the point that any fresh food she had in her fridge was nearly fossilized, and that she was really only eating food that could be eaten from a can, or could easily be cooked from its frozen or dehydrated state.  I feel like a real snob saying this, but it just wasn’t to my own standards.  I think what I really felt was concern and slight disappointment that my mother had let things come to such a point.  I can honestly say that I never felt like this during past trips we’d made and it was with a heavy heart that I had to almost lecture my own mother about the way she was keeping her house and the effects of her very poor diet.  I didn’t like to tell my mother what to do, but it was out of concern that I had to constantly remind her about simple things like expiry dates and when to toss out certain foods.  I also had to turn a blind eye at the mountains of unused items in the house.  I saw the show Hoarders for the first time in April and it hit hard when I looked around the house.  After my dad died she let everything go and the house seemed to suffer along with her.  I won’t reveal too much but I know the connection with the state of the house and my dad’s death is undeniable.  The house was clean and definitely did not look like some of the homes seen on the show, but I could see that her attitude had changed and she was becoming stubborn which is not like her at all.

The only outlet that we seemed to have was indulging in some good ol’ fashioned retail therapy.  We bought some new clothes, I got my hair done, I treated Ørjan to a day at the spa, and like the geeks we are Ørjan and I bought matching ipods.  Ørjan was also invited to the casino by some family friends and I pushed him to go because he’d never visited one before.  I caught up with some old friends, indulged in some very decadent food, and even managed to watch TV.  I’m sure there were some days where we enjoyed ourselves (especially when it meant Chinese buns and the market) but there seems to be too many sour memories that prevent me from overlooking the bad.

I want to say more and perhaps I’ll come back to edit this later, but for the moment I just want to stop.  There’s too much I want to say, too much that I want to avoid discussing, and too much that I still haven’t come to terms with.

When we arrived in Canada it was warm.  The first week at home welcomed us with temperatures of 20°C – 30°C and it felt fantastic.  The kids were able to play outside and ran around in just diapers, we never needed coats, and I felt good about wearing the new pair of chunky-heeled sandals I had just purchased.  Magnus had a few rough days and we all felt it but he ate icecream and watched the complete pixar collection and after a while things seemed to ease up.  Sophie jumped in with both feet and she seemed to adapt very quickly.  Ørjan seemed to enjoy himself even if he had the same worries as me.  The one thing that did affect us was the food.  Oh god I felt awful each day because the food tasted bad on my tongue.  Simple pleasures like a slice of bread (Where was gluten-free?) or a glass of milk tasted so bitter and I swear I could taste the toxins and hormones.  Meat was full of water, the fruit and vegetables were always shiny at the supermarket, and the yoghurt was completely fat-free and sugar-free and it was almost like eating congealed fruit-milk.  I instantly felt disappointed because I had hoped going back to North America I could get my hands on healthy and whole foods but everything seemed stripped or pumped full extra artificial ingredients and my stomach couldn’t handle it.  During the first week we all suffered from diarrhea or constipation and it was not fun.  I even had to resort to feeding the kids baby cereal for breakfast  just so they could get something nutritious in them.  Oh, it was bad.

Going home is always hard for me because I’m never able to relax.  Maybe it’s the memories of that house, or maybe it’s because I’m so consciencious about my environment, but I was never able to just stop and rest.  I was constantly cleaning, constantly cooking, and constantly itching to get out of there.  I felt slightly trapped.  It also didn’t help that I felt so uncomfortable knowing that my mom’s boyfriend is now living in the house.  I constantly felt like I was walking on eggshells in every room I walked into.  Eventually I tried to let go and made an effort to have a good time.  I suppose a little retail therapy did help though.  We bought shoes, clothes, toys, and all those other items that we can’t find in Norway.  We visited friends and family and while it felt good it was always sad knowing we only had a couple of hours together.  We even surprised my mother with a new bedroom and spent many days cleaning her house.  I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned it but my mother is this—far from being one of those people you might see on hoarders.  (Just another reason why being stuck there got on my nerves.)  I felt miserable not being able to exercise as I usually do, but I did go on a few walks and runs which made me feel better despite never really having the energy.

I love my mom, she is the most generous person I know, but she really got on my nerves when it came to our children.  The first week wasn’t easy on her because she thought the kids made too much noise or that they made too much of a mess.  Eventually she realized that they are kids and embraced their laughter and stickiness, but there was always criticism and I always felt angry when she tried making a point.  Nearing the end it was very sad because she really connected with them and I wasn’t sure what kind of comfort I could offer.  I think I tried to avoid it because I didn’t want to deal with my own feelings of longing.  We did have some talks and we were able to communicate but everything still felt so fragile.  Nearing the end (or what we thought was the end) of our trip we started to say our goodbyes and then everything fell apart.  Suddenly Eyjafjallajökull erupted and everything came to a complete stop.  We were packed and ready to leave and then suddenly we were stranded.

Ørjan and I were under so much stress last week and were almost ready to kill eachother.  We frantically called our travel insurance company, our bank, our employers, and family members.  It could have been worse, we could have been like those thousands that were stranded at airports, but being away from home even longer meant more problems.  It meant the kids would continue to be miserable, it meant Ørjan and I wouldn’t be at work earning money, and it meant another week of struggling to keep it together.  At that point we were short on money and contemplated finding any flight to get us closer to home.  Nothing was available and even flights that could take us across the pacific were off because none wanted to fly to Europe.  At that point we were feeling so low and then wouldn’t you know it, Sophie broke out with chickenpox.  On the 20th day of our trip she finally got chickenpox.  Luckily for us and her she’s a tough girl.  Her outbreak wasn’t as severe as her brother’s and only had several spots on her face, but it was still an awful experience.  It was obvious she was meant to get them on our flight back to London which doesn’t surprise us at all.

What made everything worse was the waiting.  We were originally scheduled to fly out of Toronto on the 17th but the only flight we could be promised was the 25th.  We were basically stranded for 8 more days and each day felt painful.  The kids had been sick, we had to think about the loss of income, and we were very far from home.  At that point it seemed hopeless.  If you follow me on twitter you’ll know just how desperate I had been feeling.  Eventually the week came to an end and we were more than ready to go home.  I took the initiative to pack early even if it killed me.  We came with 2 suitcases and 1 carry-on and left with 4 very full suitcases and 4 heavy carry-ons.

I want to say more about our trip but at this point I’m almost at a loss of words for just how awful most of it had been.  I think after I’ve had some more time to rest and think i’ll be able to write something more positive.  For now I’m trying to forget alot of it any way I can.

Hello world!

It’s been an extremely long time since I’ve posted and I have many reasons why I’ve been avoiding it.  We’ve been traveling since March and it’s quite possible that we won’t make it home until May if you can believe it.  With everything that’s been going on with the volcanic eruption(s) there’s so much to vent about, but this post will only describe the beginning of our trip.  In March we took a few days in London but the fun was short-lived and we barely made it.  We left Saturday, March, 27th, with the night train from Mo I Rana, but due to DST (sommertid) we missed our connecting train in Trondheim.  That’s right, the train company neglected to take the time change into consideration and when we arrived in Trondheim we had to wait to take a bus south to god knows where.   This might have swung but we had a flight to catch but wait, there’s more!  We were flying with British Airways but they decided to go on strike and our original flight for Sunday evening was cancelled.  Due to the strike we had to rebook to an earlier flight that evening.  So where was I?  Half way during the trip the bus driver decided to take a 45 minute break.  At that point we were freaking out.  If we missed our flight we’d have to spend a night in Oslo and might not get another flight until Monday or Tuesday.  (Many flights were cancelled due to the strike.)  We don’t usually get angry but we demanded that the train company either buy us new tickets or get us a taxi to drive us south.  So from Dombås we took a taxi to Lillehammer from where we took a train to the airport in Oslo.  Our taxi driver was fantastic though because she drove the best she could and kept calling the train company so that they’d wait for us in Lillehammer.  We arrived on the minute but she helped us get our suitcases and kids to the platform.  She was amazing and I thank God for her.  What was meant to be an easy 14-hour train ride turned into a day of hell.

We eventually made it to the airport with only 10 minutes before check-in closed.  We checked our bags, got through security, and ran with the kids in our arms so we could get to our gate at the other end of the terminal.  We hugged our kids, tried to calm them on the plane, and then breathed a very heavy sigh of relief when we arrived in London.  London was better than I expected but it a little bittersweet.  We hired a limo to drive us to our hotel (definitely a good idea) and then we tried to relax.  We stuffed our faces with food I brought from Norway along with the extras the hotel bought for us.  After very long showers and an hour of television the kids were sleeping in their beds and Ørjan and I were ready to start our vacation.  On the first day we took in a few sights, bought alot of goodies for the kids, and then took it easy for the night.  On the last day we planned to shop and  take it easy in the city but I ended up hanging out at the hotel with the kids because Magnus wasn’t feeling well.  He seemed to have a little cold and after the hellish travel we endured in Norway I had no problems letting him rest even if it meant losing a day in London. Ørjan spent the day in the city antiquing and shopping for stamps and coins.  I think it worked out for him because he needed some alone-time and the kids needed a rest. For dinner that night we took the kids out for Chinese but ended up going to a McDonalds just so we could buy Happy Meals.  (Which were later tossed minus the toys because they were so disgusting!)

On the morning we were due to leave I noticed Magnus had two spots on his face.  I shrugged it off as nothing because sometimes when he has a fever he gets small spots on his cheeks.  Bad move on our part.  After arriving at the airport he started to get warm again and a few more spots appeared.  At that point we weren’t sure if we were dealing with chickenpox or if it was something less serious.  Either way we knew we were screwed.  We got on our flight and 3 hours into it Magnus exploded with spots.  To say he broke out is an understatement.  To make it short I’ll tell you this much: The flight attendants were nice but scary, I had to be isolated on the plane with Magnus, and then the attendants handed out masks to all the passengers.  Oh dear god it was horrible.  My poor little guy was miserable and there wasn’t much we could do.  Luckily we bought an infant medicine at Boots (at the airport) and he took a little, but having him strip down to a diaper having to fan him to keep his temperature cool was never how I imagined that flight.  Eventually an attendant said things would be ok (after taking our passports and writing down our info) and said paramedics might be meeting us at the airport.  They eventually ruled this out since they believed it was chickenpox and we had a close site of residence from the airport.

So there you go.  I’ve/we’ve taken some pretty disastrous flights but this one definitely takes the cake.  A missed connection due to DST, an airline strike, and chickenpox: DISASTER.  If you’ve come to this point my god you must have patience but it gets even better.  One might think that it couldn’t get any worse but it does.  Join me in our next episode of The Tragic Travels of Candace (and family) where we explore the joys of being stranded due to a volcano!

I had all the intentions to spend my only day off doing Candace-things but it never really happened.  I ended up cleaning the bathrooms, washing the floors, and squeezed in a quick pilates workout.  I even accomplished some small errands and tasks that I had been putting off for at least a month.  It was a completely productive day yet I feel slightly guilty about it.  Next week I’m working Monday-Saturday and it’s doubtful that I’ll have time to do anything, so yes it was in my best interest to cross some things off my list.  However, I can’t remember the last time I actually relaxed and slept in or watched Oprah during the day.  Today I wanted to be lazy, maybe give myself a pedicure, and spend a good couple of hours wasting my time online.  It never happened.  I’m disappointed but not the least bit surprised.  Is it ridiculous that some days I feel like hiring a maid to come clean once a week?  I spent over three hours cleaning today but a soon as the kids came home the house was upside down again.  Life, right?  It’s strange that cleaning and washing makes me feel in control and happy.  The amount of work can be overwhelming at times but accomplishing it is like a high.  At least I managed to squeeze in a little time with Kitty just before Ørjan came home from work.  I really need to make some time for myself.  We have our London and Canada vacation coming up in three weeks but I’m sure it’ll be more stress than a vacation, but a little guilt-filled retail therapy should remedy these feelings.

I can’t think of anything remotely interesting to write so I’ll just say goodnight.  I have to be at work before 8 tomorrow so if you see me exhausted please be kind and don’t irritate me with complaints or attitude because I doubt I’ll have the time to smile and ignore them.

Oh wow it’s been a while since I last posted here.  I’m probably going to have to read this over a few times because while I type this I’m not evening looking at the screen.  I’m lying on the sofa watching the Gold medal game between Canada and the US.  After being sick last weekend with the stomach flu from hell, I managed to pick up a cold from the kids and felt completely miserable.  Of course I also had to work this weekend and midway during my 10 hour shift I almost passed out.  I never told anyone because I just wanted to push it behind me and work through my last shift of a 6-day workweek.  I ate some lunch and tried not to stress and luckily for me it seemed to improve my mood.  Ørjan called me at work to say that his mum was coming to pick up the kids and take them for the weekend.  This instanatly changed my mood and all I could think of for the rest of my shift was that we would finally have some time alone.  For the first time in a while we wouldn’t have to worry about Sophie coming up to our bed in the middle of the night or Magnus waking from another nightmare.  (They’ve been doing both almost on a weekly basis.)  During the last half hour of my shift Ørjan came down to work and waited for me while we closed.  We walked up to Hemnes Mat og Vin Hus and ate a nice dinner with wine (I know, we’re so grown up!) and walked home to a tidy toddler-free house!  We had a bit more to drink, watched the Olympics with some Saturday treats, and went to bed late feeling guilt-free.

This morning I slept in until 9:30!  I can’t remember the last time I did that and wow did it feel so good.  I instantly jumped up and made us a delicious breakfast and then fell right into work-mode.  I started planning the rest of my day and decided it was best to make use of the actual free-time that we suddenly had.  I picked up my Sonia Rykiel (H&M) order on Friday but waited until today to go through everything.  Pure love at first sight!  She really is the queen of knit.  I have to admit though, my favourite was the mini-Sonia knit doll and Sophie instantly fell in love with her.

I also made good use of my time and started sewing a new pillowcase for Sophie.  While Ørjan was busy installing wallplates in Magnus’ bedroom I was busy thinking about decor for Sophie’s.  I remembered that I had some extra Amy Butler fabric stored away and thought it would be perfect to use for such a small project.  I’ll be honest though, it’s been a while since I’ve used a/my sewing machine so it took at least a half hour to get used to the settings.  It also didn’t help that the instructions for my new sewing machine were only in Norwegian, Danish, Swedish, and Finnish.  I managed, but boy those diagrams were worse than the ones from IKEA.

The evening came to an end with dessert.  Fruit’s healthy so I’m ok with making it bad.

Right now Magnus is sitting on the sofa with us and it’s almost 11pm.  He’s been out of his bed three times already but we’re not stressing over it.  I’m too psyched about this game to get upset.  I am however incredibly tired and wish I could just go to bed now knowing we won the game.

I’m not sure where to begin so for now so it’ll just be bullets:

EVENTS:

• 07.02.10 – 13.02.10: Magnus and Sophie’s 3rd and 2nd birthdays. Both the kids were sick and had diarrhea so there wasn’t much of a birthday party.
• 14.02.10: Mother’s Day (Norway) and Valentine’s Day.  Since we had just finished with the kids birthdays, and since I was working extra shifts, there wasn’t much time for any celebrating.  It was also Chinese New Year and Fastelavn but I couldn’t be bothered to make any other food because I was just dead tired.

ACTIVITIES:

• Baked for work and the kids’ birthdays
• Put way too much effort into a cake that was half eaten – still fun though!
• Spent many-a-days creating forts in the living room and stepping on crumbs after a week with the kids at home
• Finally got around to framing more art and making more plans for renovations
• Planned and budgeted a little towards our London trip
• Called home to Canada quite a bit
• The Olympics – We watch, record, and argue due to our competitiveness!  I love it!  Go Canada!
• Placed an order at the Olympic Store

I’m feeling fairly good at the moment because I realize I actually have time for myself.  This week I’m only working evening shifts (with the exception of my work weekend) which gives me so much more time in the mornings.  Free mornings mean I can sleep half an hour later, I can eat breakfast with the kids before I take them to daycare (instead of me taking them early and them eating there), and I can squeeze in some housework and pilates.  It feels so good to be able to have some independent time even if it means I’m not relaxing on the sofa. It also means I can meet with Ørjan for lunch and he can fuel up before he has to return.

The weather has become frightful again as it’s been anywhere from -14°C to -22°C.  We had severe cold only a few weeks ago and then it rained.  Slush, snow, and then black ice for another week was not a treat.  Yesterday’s walk lead to a surprise when I looked down and noticed my hair had frozen.  I didn’t realize how cold it was until I looked down and it was as though someone had spray painted my hair white.  Now it’s back to the February norm and it’s manageable now that the sun has returned to the arctic circle.  I feel so human again with a little daylight/sunlight.  With so much more light the house feel more comforting and I’m back in full-gear to finish the renovations in our bedrooms.  Around December we pretty much called it quits because it was so difficult to do anywork in the dark.  (Rewiring outlets in darkness and painting without natural light is a big no-no!)

Lately I’ve been using some of my free time to research and plan our London trip.  For a while there I was feeling very negative about this trip because 1) I’ve never had the desire to visit any time soon, 2) London is insanely expensive, and 3) I know I’d be doing most of the work for planning/organizing and childcare duties.  At this point I’ve done all the research and bookings for our hotel and transportation from the airport.  Ørjan ordered tickets with an arrival time in London at 22:10!  This means that we’ve had to hire a service to drive us to the hotel with two very exhausted toddlers.  If you’ve got young children you know exactly what I’m thinking.  Sigh.  Oh well, the hard part is over.  Now the fun part of planning our daytrips are only ahead of us.  If you have any suggestions for London (or a child-friendly London) please comment!

This Sunday Magnus turns three.  We haven’t planned a party for him because we’ll combine his and Sophie’s birthday next weekend.  I should do some light baking and bring out a few gifts though because he deserves it.  Which reminds me, I came up with a menu and a baking plan for their birthday party but I cannot for the life of me find it.  I guess this means I’ll have to go through my bookmarks to find that cupcake recipe that took me days to locate.  Oh well.

I love Sundays.

Sundays mean that my week comes to an end but it’s the perfect beginning to what’s to come for the next.  On Sundays I like to take it easy and try to squeeze in personal time if possible.  Because I work so much and because I like to dedicate my Saturdays to spoiling the kids when I’m not working, Sunday is my personal-refuge day to regroup and take it easy.  Ørjan often lets me sleep late and/or take a nap, I often try out new recipes or bake something yummy for us, or I try to catch up on unfinished projects and crafting.  I am also trying to use my Sundays to materialize my goals and resolutions.  Today I feel accomplished and confident.  Today I feel like I’ve crossed many things off my list and I’ve definitely had some quality time with the kids. If only I felt the same way about Mondays.

Today we all slept in, I made Sunday waffles for the kids, and I tried out a new mango-melon smoothie recipe.  As the kids napped away I’ve managed to do a detailed cleaning of the kitchen, washed the floors, and there’s a pot of homemade beefstew on the stove simmering away.  I have a few loads of laundry to toss in, a few lists to write out, and a few letters to start writing, but it’s nothing that is stressing me out because big shock – I have Monday off!  Before the day is over I’d like to start brainstorming ideas and possible menus for Magnus and Sophie’s birthdays but we still have a few weeks yet.

I love days like these.

From Monday the 11th – Thursday the 14th all four of us were in Bodø while Magnus visited the Spesialpedagogisk Senter and the hospital in Bodø.  I’ve touched on it before, but never in depth as I will now.  Our son Magnus (3 years on February, 7th) has a speech/language problem and he is very small (weight) for his age. After a very long process our week was scheduled for the second week in January.  Our trip up north wasn’t the best but we made it… luckily.  (For the locals that read this you’ll completely understand my frustration.)  We decided to take the bus to catch our train, but for some reason our driver missed some passengers in Finneifjørd and decided to turn around at Dalselv to go back and pick them up.  He drove all the way to fucking Dalselv and turned around without notifying us.  Considering we only had about 30 minutes before our train left from Mo i Rana it wasn’t likely we’d make it if we had to turn around.  Ørjan raced up to the front to say we had a train to catch so the driver said it was ok – that he’d drive faster!  Too fast infact because while Sophie sat in my lap she puked all over us not once, but twice!  At that point Ørjan and I agreed it was enough and he demanded the driver take us to Bjerka so we wouldn’t miss our train.  He dropped us off, I ran into the station and ripped out the suitcase so I could put some clean clothes on Sophie and then the train arrived not one minute later.  I had to run to the platform without putting a jacket back on her.  We made it and that’s what’s important, but I wasn’t going to accept missing our first appointment because of the driver.  We made it to the centre later that evening (we stayed at the centre’s family housing) and we all fell asleep around 10.

Our first appointment was at 9am the next day and we (myself and Ørjan) were very nervous.  We were apprehensive about what they’d say but after 10 minutes with them we realized it was going to be a positive process.  It’s not that Magnus doesn’t understand us but he says very little and doesn’t seem to communicate at the level his peers.  At first we were very worried that maybe it was because we speak both English and Norwegian at home but they reassured us that it really has nothing to do with our choices.  After three days of testing and activities some conclusions were made and we all walked away feeling very satisfied and relieved with what they had to say: Magnus is a happy and healthy boy.  During one of the language tests I started to cry a bit because I had never heard Magnus speak so much.  I was so completely surprised and overwhelmed with the level of language and comprehension he has.  He even answered some of her questions in English!  Magnus uses a vocabulary of less than 20 words at home so I was in complete shock when he was speaking short sentences with words I had never come from his mouth.  At the hospital they did some simple tests, observed his movements and abilities, and took a long history.  I can’t say I was completely satisfied with the last day but things happen that we can’t change.  That’s all I’ll say for now.

One thing I do plan to make public is this – Ørjan’s mother has been holding back crucial information.  From the beginning (April 2009) we started this process to have Magnus tested and have help given for his needs.  The entire time his mom has been saying that we’ve been pushing him, that he’s still very young and we have nothing to worry about.  Well now, it seems to be not what she insists.  Her cousin (I work with her) told me that Ørjan was almost four years old when she started to understand what he said.  I started thinking that since Magnus is so like his dad that is has to be more than a conincidence.  From the beginning Magnus’ daycare, PPT, and the pediatric centre have been asking us about our family histories and whether or not any of us have had language difficulties.  This entire time she has refused to provide any information and has refused to accept that Magnus has difficulties.  One of the nights we were in Bodø she called to ask how things went and she conveniently mentioned that Ørjan spent a week in Bodø for testing just like Magnus.  WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?  We had been begging for information and only now she decides to mention this?  I’m extremely disappointed and I can see that Ørjan is feeling something he refuses to confont her with.  I really don’t know what to say to her now.  Hmmmm.

In all it was a very positive experience and I think we’re on our way to seeing some great improvements and achievements from him.  I’ve made it clear that I would like to learn sign language to aid in his needs and now we believe that each day they’ll be providing some private time for him to concentrate on his language skills.

- Og du, helvete du!  Kun ikke du bare si ifra tidligere?  Var det så vanskelig?  Det er mitt barn vi snakker om nå – ikke ditt!  Fortell meg nå hva i helvete problemet er!  Vi har spurt deg flere ganger i det siste året om Ørjan men du har nektet å gi oss informasjon.  Du har nektet å fortelle oss om Ørjan da han var liten, og du prøver å styre over Magnus, men tror du engentlig at det er best for alle?  Nå må du forklare alt du kan fordi nå er jeg ferdig.  Jeg er veldig veldig skuffet og sint.  Du altid har så mye å si og du er veldig flink å klage, så kom igjen nå!  Hvis du vil ikke fortelle meg så må jeg ringe til mor fordi hun or den eneste som har vært ærlig med oss.

I had to get  that off my chest.  It’s been festering since that night she called.