The Hospital Tour

The hospital where Little One is planned to be born offered its tour last night, and we went. I'm zwanger and, though once proud of my ability to plan ahead, I'm not planning ahead very well these days. So we didn't have anyone lined up to come with us to help us translate.

Anyway, the presentation started, and I was fairly surprised how much I could understand. It helps to have pictures and the subject matter fairly defined. In fact, the first three sentences (of the 45 minute presentation) I understood perfectly! After that, it did get a little harder, but I did come away knowing a few important facts:
1. The wheelchairs at the entrance of the hospital require a 1 Euro deposit, not 50 cents like the shopping carts at the grocery store.
2. Coffee and tea are readily available throughout the maternity ward. I lost count how many times this was pointed out in the presentatation and on the tour. Nearly 24 hours later, I recall at least 6 mentions of "koffie of thee". The nurses will also serve the typical Dutch birthday cake. I'm glad they put to rest my worries as to how soon we would get to celebrate with biscuit, slagroom, and anise candy.
3. There was a lot of interest in the electrodes that are sometimes used to monitor the baby during delivery. I don't know why.
4. Rest time for the mother and baby is between 12 p.m. and 3 p.m. No visitors, not even Dad?!? (I hope I'm wrong on that one.) Nevertheless, for those of you who will be catching the first flight to Holland upon hearing our news, plan accordingly!
5. The hospital rooms for delivery and recovery are quite sterile and VERY hospital-like. Nothing like in some hospitals in the States.

Since these 5 points summarize what we got out of the 90-minute long presentation and tour, we had a lot of questions. Thankfully, I have the nicest midwives in Holland caring for us, and at our appointment today, the midwife I saw cleared up a lot of our questions.

Op de Straat

The Basement is located on a fairly busy road, and this summer we've gotten a taste of Dutch traffic. Here's what we've seen op de straat (on the street):
1. Bicyclists! Some of these fietsers are families or friends on a day tour of the area. I can tell by the maps at least one will have attached with a special holder to their handlebars.
2. Bicyclists! Some of the fietsers are road racers, going REALLY fast.
3. Bicyclists! Some of the fietsers are people like me, just getting from one place to another.
4. Bicyclists! And some are road cyclists, who use Rhenen as a stop for coffee or lunch. They are decked out in their cycling shoes and, with their padded shorts to boot, look kinda funny.
5. Bicyclists! The last fietser category are those on long-haul excursions, with saddlebags on front wheel and back wheel to carry the gear.
6. Bicyc...ha! fooled you...Motorcyclists! Who knew that motorcycles and touring bands of riders were as popular here as in the States.
7. Caravans! Oh, the RVs and other campers in Europe abound.
8. The #50 bus. What a nice bus...so predictable and takes me wherever I need to go, so long as that wherever is Utrecht, Wageningen, or somewhere in between.
9. Normal traffic: cars and trucks. Only with exotic brands like Volvo and Ford and Mazda.
10. Horse parades. But no one to clean up after the stars of the show.
11. Pedestrian parades. But no one to clean up after the stars of the show.
12. Wedding parades. At least one complete with police escort? Or was that a coincidence?
And, finally, the real reason I'm writing this post...
13. Truck parade. No less than 1 hour of trucks (and I don't mean F150s), rumbling past The Basement. No less that ONE HOUR of trucks, rumbling past The Basement, horns BLARING. Upon closer inspection, I saw kids in the trucks. Upon asking what in the world is going on, I found out that the kids are those with Down's syndrome or the like. The truckers donate their time to let the kids ride, and give them FULL access to the horns. Sweet, huh? But I do wonder who donates the earplugs to the drivers...

Eight O'Clock

I've hit a weird milestone in my expatriate development: I completely expect certain cultural norms, but they are not yet completely part of me. It is like learning a new skill, I suppose. When learning how to drive, a person "knows" what to do, but it isn't an automatic skill yet.

Take the 20:00 rule, for example. If there is an evening event scheduled, it will most likely begin at eight o'clock. From conversations I've had, this is because it gives people time to get home, eat dinner, put the kids in bed, give the baby monitor to the next door neighbor, lock the house, and get to the meeting.

Recently, when scheduling my childbirth classes, the instructor and I decided on...eight o'clock. Completely expected. Yet, later that day when I was trying to schedule another meeting, and someone suggested the same evening of the class, I got all excited. "It'll save us a trip into town," I thought. Cerainly, we could meet from 6 p.m. to 7:30 p.m., I reasoned. Nope. As soon as I shared I had another meeting at eight o'clock, it was decided I couldn't be in two places at once. It was either eight o'clock or another day.

Editorial comments: I dislike the 20:00 rule. I'm used to things beginning earlier, even around 6 or 6:30 so families can get home and tuck their kiddos in bed before it is too late. Unless it's on a Friday or Saturday, 8:00 just seems too late to start something. Besides, I much prefer the thought of not leaving children, sleeping or otherwise, home alone, with the baby monitor acting as the babysitter.

Pinch Me

Today was one of those "pinch me, I'm living in Europe" days. I don't know why - nothing extraordinary happened. And it's been 18 months - I would think I'd be used to the sights and sounds by now. Yet, I seem to be even more alert to those sights and sounds these past few days.

Sunday, I couldn't take my eyes off the sky. It is so BIG here, with clouds towering over one another. No wonder Dutch landscape paintings often consist of 2/3 sky and 1/3 land. Yesterday, it was pure enjoyment looking at the cows and sheep and horses grazing in the green, green grass of this country. Is there any place on earth that has greener grass? Today, though, the pinch me moments: walking on a completely deserted cobblestone lane a few blocks from The Basement. It was narrow and cute, with the old church tower in the backdrop. And then, there were the two college students who passed me on another street, their crusty-bread sandwiches wrapped only in napkins as they headed to a bench to have their lunch.

Have Pallets, Will Build

Last Sunday, a HUGE pile of wooden crates and shipping pallets appeared in "our" field - the one between The Basement and the Rhine. My friend commented, "Oh, they must be planning to have a bonfire." I agreed, and thought about roasting some of our prized marshmallows, just imported from the US. But from the size of the pile, I might get roasted, too.
In the end, they were planning a bonfire, but not as quickly as I would have thought.

By Monday, the piles had multiplied, spread throughout the field.
On Tuesday, I heard music and lots of...hammering. Venturing outside, I saw children building forts out of these pallets and crates!

What a fantastic idea!

The building continued on Wednesday and Thursday, the forts growing more elaborate each day. Flags were flying above them, and some were covered up with tarps - for secrecy or rain protection, I'm not sure. Passers-by would ask me (I presume), "What are they doing?" Ummm...having the time of their lives? Doing something that, even as I approach 30, I would LOVE to do? Instead, I just said, "Geen idee." No idea.

And on Friday morning, we walked outside to a sad, sad sight: no more forts. But they had had their bonfire. I hope they had some marshmallows.

 

 

After all that hard work... 

The Inspection: The Result

Whew! It looks like I'm allowed to have the baby.

The Inspection wasn't really an inspection. It did contain elements of one, however. "Do you have...?" "Do you know where to find a....?" "When will you buy...?" She didn't want to see any of what I did have, but she certainly did want to know if I had the items or had plans to get them.

I am required to have the two silly kruiken, but The Inspector is loaning me hers...so then all I'll need to buy (and probably never use) are the sacks for the kruiken. But the kruiken are about Eur15/$20 each, and the sacks are only Eur2/$3, so that's not too bad of a trade off. To get these kruiken I just need to get to her office...about 5 km away and without a good bus route. Good thing, at 32+ weeks zwanger, I'm still riding my bike. Although 5 km will take me about as long next week as 8 km took me 3 months ago...I digress...

Also, even though I tried my hardest to say that I had everything I need for the crib, she wasn't going to have any of it. I am "required" to make the crib like the Dutch do - basically, with a top/flat sheet and exactly two lightweight cotton blankets, which will be tucked in tightly around the baby and folded down to the babies chest. (Kind of like how American beds are made, which is the "old-fashioned" way in Europe.) The kruiken, then, are placed on top of the top sheet and exactly two lightweight cotton blankets to keep the baby nice and snuggly warm.

I am "not allowed" to swaddle the baby in a receiving blanket until I am taught how to do it, and even then, it is not recommended to let Little One sleep that way. "We have done studies that show this is the safest." Hmmm...I bet other studies with other results have been completed, too.

Anyway, it really wasn't bad, she was very nice, did answer a lot of my questions, and I'll do exactly the bare minimum "Dutch" things necessary to not raise a lot of issues when the nurse is around. Picking my battles...

Now, I really MUST find something besides zwangerschap to blog about next...

The Inspection

Several people who have experienced childbirth in the Netherlands have mentioned to me The Inspection. It is when someone (who, nobody can really tell me) comes to my home and sees if I am "ready" for the baby-je. I've heard how one mother-to-be got "demerits" for not having a special quick drying towel. And how another was reprimanded for not having a thermometer in Celcius. Even my landlady mentioned The Inspection to me, concerned that it hadn't happened yet. (In only my 7th month, nonetheless!)

The Inspection has reached epic status in my mind, mainly because I have so little information about it. Thankfully, today I find out what it is. Here is what I do know:
-I will have a nurse come to my home after the baby is born. (That alone is worth staying in the Netherlands for the birth!)
-A representative from this kraamzorg practice is coming to my home today to discuss the care and what I need.
-I assume this is The Inspection, though it has never been presented that way.
-The person coming today, from what I can tell over the phone, is VERY nice. I can hardly imagine she will give me demerits.
-According to the list I have (the one with all the "-je"s), I currently have about 75% of what I need. Some things, like bedverhogers, which will raise my bed so the nurse doesn't hurt her back, or kruiken, which are glorified (read: expensive) hot water bottles to put in the crib at night, I either don't see why I need right now or why I need at all.
-But I do have important things like the kinderveiligheidszitje (long name for a car seat - nevermind we don't have a car) and the wandelwagen (nothing "je" about this stroller) and dekentjes and rompertjes.

I hope I pass - it would be terrible to be labeled an unfit mother even before my baby is born, and over things called bedverhogers and kruiken!

Language Learning Part VI: The Diminutive

I was going to name this post "What do these Dutch vocabulary words and phrases have in common?" to keep you bright and alert this Monday morning. But I'll spare you...

There is no better time to learn Grammar Lesson 28 in my Dutch for Self-Study book than when zwanger. This last grammar lesson reviews the diminutive ending for nouns; usually the diminutive ending implies the object is "small". This ending is some form of "je", and it can make anything small..a "hond" is a dog and a "hondje" is a little dog.

I don't think there anything similar in English, unless you count the less proper "doggIE" that kind of implies a little dog. Nevertheless, you get the idea. Anyway, I recieved a list of baby things I should have ready for the baby's arrival. Behold - here is the diminutive at work...I'll give the Dutch and my English translation.

1 babymutsje (a baby hattie)
6 rompertjes of hemdjes (6 roperies or shirties...hey! OneSIES!)
4 truitjes (4 sweateries)
3 pakjes of broekjes met voetjes (3 packagies or pantsies with footSIES)
2 paar sokjes (2 pair sockies)
10 spuugdoekjes (10 spit-up clothies)
6 hydrofiel washandjes (6 special quick drying cloth washclothies)
2 dekentjes (2 blankIES)
and on and on and on...

In the list of 23 items, only 7 don't have a diminutive. I think babIES must wear and use small thingIES.

Where is American Hospitality??

Maybe I'm giving myself away here, but when I was living in the States, I wasn't very hospitable to paid workmen in my house. I would offer them water, of course, but not much else. The couple times I remember offering more, I was flatly refused. It just didn't cross my mind to offer them coffee and a biscuit (of course, that might have more to do with the fact that I still don't know or care to know how to make coffee).

Yet, for the dozen times or so we've had plumbers, insurance adjusters, carpet people, and painters in our home in recent weeks, I don't think one visit has gone by without the landlady offering coffee or tea or juice to the workmen. And I always know if they accepted or not if I hear the whisk at work whisking milk while it's heated on the stove upstairs. I have to say, it was a pretty funny sight on Monday to see 5 plumbers sipping their dainty Dutch cups of coffee. But at least it kept them working...

On a Related Note

Related to yesterday's "Going Dutch" post and the theme of frugality that going Dutch (or being Dutch) carries with it, here's a joke a Dutch friend just told me the Belgians use to make fun of their northerly neighbors:

Q: How can you tell a Dutch campsite from a Belgian one?
A: The Dutch will have their toilet paper hanging out to dry.

Small Country

Dan has a meeting this afternoon; it is 75 minutes away by car.

Why, that's clear across the country!

Going Dutch

There is certainly a connection between the phrase "Going Dutch" and the culture here. At some moments, the generosity of the Dutch is very evident. And some American traditions that help to share the cost, like bringing a salad or a dessert to dinner with friends, are not practiced here very regularly. Yet, we "Go Dutch" quite often. Helping to pay for gas or splitting the bill at a restaurant evenly, for example. On this very morning, however, I have the best example yet of the Dutch Going Dutch.

In our continuing saga of the flooding-bathroom-turned-major-sewer-problem, the landlady's bathroom above our shower cannot be used. At least, it can't be used sanitarily. So our bathroom is now the common bathroom. Being out of town for 3 weeks, our landlady has some friends staying in her house. They've been more than helpful about the whole situation, and they don't want the situation to be any more burdensome to us than is necessary, I guess. I say this because, this morning, in our bathroom, there has appeared an extra roll of toilet paper and a their own can of air freshener.

Summer

It's wonderful being able to enjoy summertime again. During our six years in Alabama, either the suffocating heat or the suffocating deadlines :-) made enjoying summer a little bit difficult. Last summer in Moldova and Finland, I actually got a tan (well, a tan for me...) and my hair got blonde streaks in it: A certain sign I was able to be outside a whole lot. This summer, I'm tan again, my hair is lighter, and I am relishing the long daylight hours, meals out in the garden, fruit salads, and being outside.

European summers do have a bit of charm to them, which makes enjoying them pretty easy. I've written about the "holidays" people take, including storekeepers, and the slower pace for those of us who are left behind makes me wonder why going away on holiday is necessary. The Summer Sales are tremendous here. Finland's sales were good last July, but the Netherlands' kortings (discounts) are amazing in August. In Northern Europe, the LOOOOOOONNNNGGGG daylight hours are heavenly. The days are getting shorter now, but when "shorter" days still mean it's just getting dark at 10 p.m., I can't complain. We do need to teach our cats that daylight at 5 a.m. does not equate to breakfast time, however.

I'm trying not to be sad that summer is winding down, and I carry a hope that this fall is as mild as last fall. Nevertheless, I know the endless days of wind, rain, and clouds are coming. For now, though, I'll enjoy the blue skies, the warm temperatures, and the lifestyle that allows me to appreciate these summer days.

Marketing

On our walk to the grocery store yesterday, Dan commented how, during his two weeks in the States, he was overwhelmed with impulses to buy things. In Target or Wal-Mart, he wanted to grab items off the shelves, whether or not he really needed them. It is certainly different here.

For the rest of the walk, we debated the reasons for this difference. Are products marketed more aggressively in the States? Are U.S. stores more sophisticated in their product placement and in-store advertising? Or is it that WE - as expats - aren't being targeted by the marketing? (What? You don't have similar conversations with your best friend?)

Then, while shopping, I tried to pay attention to what caught my eye. Things on sale, thirst quenching ijslollies (popsicles), fruit, and dairy products all ended up in our cart without being on our list. Most items seemed to have more to do with my current set of cravings than any outright marketing campaign.

Except for one item: laundry detergent for Little One. I've never bought laundry detergent for a baby before. I scanned the aisle for some name that I recognized as being baby friendly. When that failed, I looked for any name I recognized at all. It was hopeless. The one name I did recognize, I realized it was only because they make the dishwashing liquid we used once when I first moved here.

So how did I pick which laundry detergent to buy? It was the only one with a baby pictured on it.

What The Basement is Good For

We've had...ummm...some trouble with The Basement. More specifically, we've had trouble with flooding in The Basement. Just last week, after living with cement as our flooring since the big flood, we got carpet installed. I prefer carpet over cement. We've had small floods since as well, water gushing in through the vent in the bathroom and up through the shower. Thankfully, the waters haven't reached our living room or bedroom again.

So, you see, The Basement is good for floods, raising stress levels of its occupants, learning Dutch plumbers aren't the neatest breed, and helping its occupants appreciate dry, clean, soft flooring.

The Basement is really good for is keeping zwanger women nice and cool during the hottest July ever (so the newspapers say, but records only go back 300 years...so how do they really know??). I decided this last week, after several people expressed they were worried about how I was taking the heat - and all alone on top of it! Remember that Dutch homes don't have air conditioning, by and large. Little did they know that I was basking in the cool of The Basement, breaking a sweat only at the tail end of the heat wave. But I was also wading in the waters of the Rhine every time I entered my bathroom.