Good morning, sunshine

I am up again at 6 with Baby M. He is 4 months old and "the funnest" baby ever. I'm still tired.

When I first moved here and lived in the Red Light, there was always action at this hour.

The week I arrived, they were filming Deuce Bigalow 2. I was jetlagged and awake at 5 for a few days, so I watched them shoot through my window with enough floodlights to make it look like daytime. Then when the sun came up, they packed up and left. I guess that's one way to avoid too many "extras."

One funny thing that happened during the shoot is that they staged a scenic background by moving some garbage and putting a prop bike in the shot. During a break in the filming, someone stole the prop bike.

That's so Amsterdam.

No "new" baby clothes

I have come to the conclusion that no one ever actually has NEW baby clothes. Every time someone in my family hears that someone is pregnant, the first thing they say is "Oh really? How nice. Does she need baby clothes?"

It seems everyone has bags of "almost-new" baby clothes that are too nice to get rid of, unless they give them to someone they know. At the same time, they're desperate to be free of them. Not to sell them, of course, just to give them to the right person.

Even when you do get new clothes, they will never LOOK new, since you have to wash it all before wearing. So you pull off all the tags, wash the clothes, never use them, and can't return them. Into the giveaway bag they go. But not to GIVE away, give away.

Almost all the clothes my mom sent had a legacy - "now this is from Lisa's William, and this is from Margot's Grace, and this is from Maryellen's Patrick..."

I, too, now have those bags of clothes. I think we're all just passing the same stuff around.

I have two boys, but a neighbor with two girls is having another baby. What if it's a boy?

Maybe she needs baby clothes...

Doctor, Doctor

Let's talk docs.

Due to paperwork, I JUST got health insurance after 5 years and two children. What's the f-ing rush? I feel free to become ill with reckless abandon.

I can't decide whether or not I like the system here. You have a general practitioner that you always visit first, then, if necessary, he or she refers you to a specialist.

Opzicht this isn't a bad idea, but what if you KNOW you need a dermatologist, or a psychologist? Isn't it just a waste of time?

Also, there's no "emergency room" at 2 a.m. with a crouping kid. You have to call the GP emergency line, and they decide whether to send you somewhere or come see you. It really does put you at their mercy. If you call the "911"-style number, they will come and decide if you really need an ambulance. You really only get to roar into the emergency room with flashy lights if you get hit by a tram, or something (Happens a lot. Mostly Germans, for some reason.)

Calling the doctor here isn't like calling them at home, though. They only have one or two lines, so if it's busy, you call them back instead of getting put on hold. They'll see you right away if necessary instead of scheduling you 4 months in advance, and if the receptionist isn't there - GET THIS! - sometimes the doctor will answer.

I almost passed out the day that I called and it rang and rang until the man who picked up said "Dr. Pool's office. Dr. Pool speaking." Can you imagine? The delicate geniuses themselves, not hiding behind the bodyguard ranks of nurses and assistants? He was booked for the day, so he told me to come at 5:30. Or the following morning at 7. Let me write that again - HE MADE TIME FOR ME OUTSIDE OFFICE HOURS.

The postpartum care is unbelievable. They have a nurse come to your home the first week after delivery to care for you, babysit your other kids, do the housework, shopping and whatever else you need. It's worth having a baby just to get that service.

All in all, you have a little less control, but a little less drama, too. And it is government subsidised, hence no emergency room for cuts and scrapes. Like everything else here it's "different, but not necessarily bad."

A whole box of cookies

D and I split a whole box of cookies last night. That means we each had 4.5 cookies. Why are packages so effing small here? (I'm trying to swear less, since my 2-year-old son told the cat and dog to "quit fucking around").

I suppose it's a good thing, so that people don't get too fat, but goddamnit, juice by the liter is practically a single serving for me, and I have to go to the grocery store every day. And my regular readers (both of you) know how much I hate AH.

Yesterday, they screwed me again. I left the kids home and biked to the AH to get ONE thing - microwave pancakes for V. I ended up with 35 euros worth of groceries in addition to the pancakes. I get home and...here comes the hate...the pancakes are past the expiration date. Like, WAY past. FFFFFFFFFFFF!!!

I went back to return them and the package of tortillas that was already opened (Honestly, people, can we do no better? This place is always voted the "best" supermarket in the Netherlands...lucky for them, they have no basis for comparison, like I do.)

I exchanged them, and in a customer-service mishap, they gave me my money back too. They couldn't have meant to. I know that was an f-up. Screw it. I'll take it. That place has ripped me off dozens of times.

All told, only 2 hours and 4 bike trips to a store only 8 blocks away for one bag of food. You know I'll have to go back today.

Public Service Announcement

If you are a woman with kids, and something on the back of your leg hurts and you wonder if it might be a varicose vein, don't ever, EVER use a mirror to look.

If you can't help yourself, find the smallest mirror in the world - maybe steal the one on the stick at your dentist's office - then go to the darkest corner of the house, take off your glasses, close one eye and squint with the other.

Since having children, horrible, sick and unspeakable things have happened to the backs of your legs. Not like car wreck horrible; "it's so awful, I can't look away," but actually post-traumatic-stress-disorder horrible that will leave you dreaming of how life was before you saw it.

Now you know. Go forth and spread the word.

No respect

I get no respect and I am fucking sick of it.

Bad, bad mommy

I am going to start making a list every so often of all the things I've done recently (perceived or otherwise) that make me a bad mommy. This week's a whopper...


1) I was glad D was sick

I got to leave my toddler at home napping with him and took the baby shopping downtown. Let the good times roll!

2) I rode like a maniac

I have endlessly tut-tutted when seeing mothers bicycling with their baby strapped to their chests - "SO dangerous. SO stupid." Yeah, I did it. M hated riding up front in the bakfiets. He was crying so hard that he was drenched in sweat. I baby bjorned him and rode slowly home.

I felt like I was playing a really complicated video game...knees out, pedal, steer, don't drop cell phone from right pocket or keys from left pocket, brake, don't let plastic bag of diapers fly away, support baby's head with chest...

3) I thought my child was faking

V told me his butt hurt. I thought it was constipation or gas, and at 3:45 a.m., thought that he was just pulling an act. I was fortunately indulgent and gave him a warm bath instead of yelling at him to go back to sleep, but I admit I thought he was full of it. Happened again last night. Shooting pains in his butt. Called the doc at 11 p.m. She said it sounds like a classic case of worms. WORMS! Worms!!

Oh dear God.

4) I let my kid get worms

How did this happen? What kind of mother am I? The doctor assured me that worms - like lice - have nothing to do with hygiene. Yeah. Because when I hear a kid has lice, I automatically think how clean he must be.

I know, I know. We even have parasites on our eyelashes, but for fuck's sake, how did this happen on my watch?

The diagnosis is confirmed by hideous means involving darkness, Scotch tape and a flashlight. I'm just gonna take the doc's word on this...