Papadag (Daddy day)

This post has been written by the husband. Though he has written a couple of other posts he will most likely not be a regular feature, but maybe now and then we'll get to hear M's voice (If i can convince him to write more!)

When we found out that Amanda was gonna start working full time we had to look for a daycare for Yulia. Normally daycares in the Netherlands have  huge waiting lists, but luckily, we found a really nice one that was able to take Yulia on short notice. Their philosophy however is that no child should be in daycare for more than 4 days, so we had to find a solution for the 5th day. Since 3 of the 4 grandparents live in Mexico and the grandmother in the Netherlands is still working. We had to find a different solution.

So we did some calculations in Excel and we came to the conclusion that I would be able to take a papadag (daddy day). A papadag is a day (or in some cases more than one) in which the dad stays home and takes care of the child(ren).

My first day I was a bit scared. Sure, I had taken care of Yulia before. I knew how to change her diaper, give her food, entertain her, but I had never done one full day of baby tending. I didn’t know how to organize myself and the day in such a way that stuff would get done and Yulia would be happy. Also, Amanda advised me to go to a playgroup that Yulia loved and Amanda attended with her every week. I didn’t like the idea of going to a place with only women talking about women stuff.

Up until now  I have had four daddy days and I love it. I love our morning walk to the playgroup, I love playing and dancing with her at the playgroup, I love having fancy lunch with her at M&S and going home to play some more.

During the playgroup I talk to the different moms (there are 2-3 dads as well), nanny’s and au pairs and during her nap after playgroup I have time (2 hours) to run errands (Amanda edit: this means going to the french bakery and getting éclaires). I know that Amanda is going through a huge change and misses Yulia a lot, but I am very happy that I get to spend quality time with my amazing daughter.

Temperature. Or, the concept of cold.

This post has been written by the husband, a little bit like Kamel appears every now and again over at Better in real life. Speaking of which, you should absolutely read K's mother's day post. It is just, so beautiful. This will most likely not be a regular feature, but maybe now and then we'll get to hear M's voice. 

Wind, hail, and rain do nothing to the boy. Shown here: Windproof raincoat bought in Barcelona, when it was supposed to be glorious, sunny warm and instead it started raining dogs and cats.

Amanda and I are having a lot of discussions about the temperature lately, since the arrival of our little Yulia. We have had our funny misunderstandings in the past, like me having to buy sweaters and a windproof jacket in Barcelona while visiting Amanda, but the differences in our thoughts and perceptions are very clear today. Our main discussion regarding Yulia is whether or not she should be covered by a swaddle when she is carried around in the house.

Amanda grew up in warm and sunny Mexico. Sure it can get “cold” there in the mornings and evenings, but the temperature never drops beneath 10º degrees Celsius. And sure, she spent some time in Switzerland, but the warmth of the Mexican sun never left her mind. She walks around the house on slippers and most of the time has a blanket wrapped around her. She “claims” that there are these “huge” drafts, making parts of the house colder than the rest. So it is no surprise that Amanda thinks that Yulia needs a swaddle, since she is a small baby and the house is cold. The more blankets she is covered in the better.

I, on the other hand grew up in rainy and windy Holland. Where the temperature does become negative in winter. And since Holland is a bike country, I spent plenty of time biking in the rain, snow and hail. During exam period you would spend the first 15 min of the exam getting warm and dry. I walk around the house on my socks and in a t-shirt. I don’t feel any drafts or temperature variations throughout the house.

So, according to my view, Yulia does not need a swaddle in the house when I carry her around in our house. Even during the short trip she takes naked from her room to the shower, where we install her bath.

A temperature is a numerical measure of hot and cold. Its measurement is taken by detection of heat radiation; particle velocity or kinetic energy, or, most commonly, by the bulk behavior of a thermometric material. It may be calibrated in any of various temperature scales: Celsius, Fahrenheit, Kelvin, etc.

The temperature indication throughout our house is a cozy 20º degrees Celsius, but it is funny to see that an objective value such as temperature can be perceived so subjectively based on one’s background.

How are you influenced by your background?

Bedroom wars

Hello everyone. This post was written by the boy, a little bit like Kamel's Saturday edition at Lauren's blog. This will most likely not be a regular feature, but maybe now and then we'll get to hear M's voice. 

Ever since Amanda started her blog we joked about me starting my own blog.  I even had a title and everything "the daily struggles of a perfect husband". But it turns out I don't have that many struggles and maybe (just maybe ) the title was a bit much. So instead of creating my own blog or even blogging regularly  like Kamel does I decided to just make this one post for now.

It started the first day Amanda and I slept in the same bed. As you guys know Amanda used to live in Barcelona and in her apartment she had a single bed. Which is quite nice, who doesn't want to spend their first night together in a cozy bed. The apartment had terrible insulation it was freezing cold that night, but Amanda had several layers of blankets to keep us warm during the night. So imagine  my surprise  when during the night I was cold. This was strange I was in a small bed with the girl I loved and had several layers of blankets on top of me, how could I be cold? But surprise surprise the blankets were gone. Turns out my GF was a blanket stealer. Imagine the shock my GF a criminal.

I didn't dare to steal them back, not on our first night, so I laid there cold taking every bit of blanket that was available. Heh maybe this was just a one night thing right?? Wrong.

So now every night Amanda and I are fighting a war in our bed. She steals my part of the blanket I take it back by "force". We could simply use separate blankets, but we want to feel like we are sleeping together and we kinda like our little war. So now I wanna know. Do you have any struggles as a perfect husband/wife?