Pippi Longstocking is Adrian’s favourite character, and Ingrid loves many of Astrid Lindgren’s stories, too. So yesterday we went to Astrid Lindgren’s World, a Lindgren theme park, together with another family.

Most of the park consisted of recreations of environments from the books. There was Pippi’s house of course (and a pirate ship next to it), as well as copies of Bullerby, Mattis’s fort, Thorn Rose Valley, and so on. Most things were scaled down to child size, with small houses, narrow streets, even scaled-down cobblestones.

I found the park itself a bit underwhelming. Many of the environments were just façades: the doors and windows couldn’t be opened. In others you could go inside but there was hardly anything there, just bare walls and a bare floor. Cute to look at from afar but there wasn’t much to actually do there.

Mattis’s fort was at least large enough so we could walk around on the walls and climb up and down in the towers, and Karlsson’s roof had some slides. There were also some other bits and pieces where the kids could climb, including a large “don’t touch the ground” trail that Ingrid enjoyed a lot.

There were performances throughout the day, and we saw two of them: one Pippi show, and one sing-along show. The actors also sang and performed between the main shows. I think Pippi and her crew were out and interacting with the crowd almost all day.

Ingrid loved hanging out around the Pippi house with Pippi and her sailors and pirates. She’s now independent enough that we could just sit at a café nearby while she wandered around. Apart from the shows, her favourite attraction was a little knee-deep pond with two cable ferries. She kept going back and forth across the pond, on her own, with Adrian, with random other kids, for around half an hour I think, and only quit after she accidentally stepped into the pond and got rather wet.

Adrian just enjoyed hanging around the park with Ingrid and his friend Hanna, and looking at stuff.

The park was extremely family-friendly. There were picnic tables, toilets, cafés and restaurants everywhere. At times it felt like there were more cafés than attractions there. But it was very convenient, with almost no queueing anywhere. The restaurants served locally sourced food, and it was real food, with no hot dogs or hamburgers in sight. But expensive… 75 kr for a kids’ portion of meatballs and two potatoes is a bit extreme.

We were lucky to be at ALV on a Friday during the off season. The park wasn’t empty but not too crowded either. As we drove past this morning we saw many more people heading that way so avoiding the weekend was a good thing. I can imagine that it could get awfully busy there during the main season which starts in early June. On the other hand it is probably also more fun then, with many more shows during the day, and more characters from the books just walking around in the park.

I don’t think we’ll be going back there next year. Maybe in a few years’ time, when Adrian is as old as Ingrid is now. And in that case probably at the very beginning or end of the high season, so we catch more of the action but (hopefully) not much more of the crowds.

The oddest things turn out to have 3-year age limits because they are “choking hazards due to small parts”:

• Foam noodle water squirters
• Felt tip pens
• Play tents
• Toy barbecue set in wood and felt (ours is slightly different but also has a 4-year age limit)

I have never hesitated about letting Adrian play with any of these since before he was even two. To me, these are great toddler toys. And marble runs, too.

Well, I would not give marbles or felt tip pens to 6-month babies who still explore the world with their mouths. But surely two-year-olds are well past that stage? It makes me wonder what sort of kids these safety standards are based on.

And how are these toys even choking hazards? The caps on felt tip pens, yes. But noodle water guns? For them to become a choking risk, the kid would first have to tear off a piece. That’s not going to happen easily in normal play. Does the average toddler behave like a wild animal, attacking everything with their teeth and claws?

My relationship to my breasts was complicated for a long time. I was late to develop, always the shortest one in my class (even though I am now of average height). “All” the other girls had breasts but not me. And my breasts were small, which I was self-conscious about. It was always difficult to find bras, even when I was adult.

When I was pregnant I even worried a bit whether I would be able to breastfeed with such small breasts. But boy did they grow when the milk came in. I was fascinated by the change. Big, round, full breasts, with visible veins. I even had a cleavage!

And they worked great for breastfeeding. Ingrid was over two when I stopped breastfeeding, and I only did it so we could start trying for another kid. Adrian, at over two and a half, still nurses. I won’t really call it “feeding” any more because it’s not about food any more. It’s about intimacy and comfort. Even Ingrid still likes to sit close and lean her cheek against my chest sometimes when Adrian nurses.

During these years I have become friends with my breasts. I now see them more with my kids’ eyes, rather than with others’ eyes. They are yummy and cuddly. They are not there to be looked at, and I really don’t care at all what other people may think of them. Nowadays they are quite small again and it doesn’t bother me the least. I have stopped wearing a bra because I have realized that I don’t need one, even though all the billboards try to sell them to me.

Påskkäringar & påskgubbar (Easter witches). And one Easter bunny.

So we’ve been feeding birds (and other critters) this winter. I’ve streamlined the process for this season. There are no more plastic bags and no more mixing. Instead we now buy bird food in large buckets. I have a one-litre stainless steel measuring jug with which I scoop up half a litre of pre-shelled sunflower seeds from one bucket, to which I add a double fistful of peanuts from the other bucket, and that’s it.

Now that the season is almost over, we had seven or eight large empty buckets in clear plastic. Instead of throwing them away, I gave them to Adrian’s nursery this morning, for the kids to play with.

I thought that maybe they would use them for storing and carrying things. Or maybe they would put the lids on and build towers.

No.

When I got there in the afternoon, I was met by four or five kids, each one wearing a bucket on his head like a space helmet. It was spooky.

The staff told me that these were not helmets, the buckets were mufflers, and they (the staff) were very pleased.

Unfortunately I have no photos of the buckets in use because Adrian was tired and not in the mood. But here’s what they look like with about 5,5 kg of bird food inside. Source: Plantagen.se.

First we made lussebullar, saffron buns. We started off making those mainstream S-shaped buns (kuse) but quickly got bored with those and switched to making B-shaped buns (lussekatt), crossed S’s (julvagn) and other such traditional shapes. (The internets seem to have only one decent image of those shapes.) Then we got tired of those as well and branched out into more creative shapes: twists and braids and spirals of twists… and palm trees and swans and snails. And then we poked in lots of raisins in them all.

Later we baked gingerbread cookies. We have dozens of cookie cutters of all kinds of shapes, so the cookies ended up quite varied. Every year I start off making different kinds of cookies but then end up making mostly Christmas trees, hearts and pigs. They offer the best combination of efficient dough use (not much scrap dough left over between them), easy handling (unlike the reindeer and men with their long fiddly legs that break off), Christmas-themed imagery, and a good shape for later decorating.

Ingrid was making buns and cookies like a pro this year: rolling, kneading, shaping, decorating… Adrian liked playing with the bun dough and adding the raisins (and eating the raisins). Otherwise he wasn’t very interested.

The childless me, from before kids, could probably have imagined having lunch in an Oriental restaurant with two kids, 6 and 2 years old.

I would probably have been able to picture the six-year-old being bored, sliding from the chair down to the floor and climbing back up, then folding the wrapping paper from around the chopsticks into an accordion shape, then pretending to shoot all the villains and the dragons in the picture on the wall, and all the while asking “when will the food come” again and again.

But I don’t think I’d have imagined myself nursing the two-year-old.

Who, by the way, is dressed in pyjamas (because that’s what he wanted to wear this day).

In a green dinosaur-themed pyjama top combined with pastel pink pyjama bottoms with flowers.

Adrian’s monthly post will have to wait until tomorrow, because the object of said post is still awake and showing no signs of wanting to go to bed, at 10 pm. Instead he is sitting on my knee, making funny noises, poking at my boobs, and voicing opinions about what I should be doing on my computer instead of typing (looking at a Pippi movie, or at pictures of him or Eric or dolphins).

During much of last week, I was on my own with Adrian, while Ingrid and Eric were off having fun on their own. (Three days with Eric’s family in the archipelago of Stockholm, and then two and a half days in Gothenburg at Liseberg.)

On the one hand, life was noticeably duller than usual. I’m pretty sure that not only myself but also Adrian missed the others’ company.

On the other hand, meal times were so much calmer, and there were far fewer toys to pick up in the evenings.

It is heart-warming to see and hear Ingrid and Adrian together. They play so nicely with each other, and Ingrid takes such good care of Adrian, that I’m almost afraid to believe it will last – even though it’s been this way since Adrian was born.

When he was a tiny baby Ingrid didn’t quite know what to do with him. But as soon as he could at least sit up and respond clearly to the world outside, she was there, waving toys in front of him and making silly faces at him.

Now their interactions are very different but apparently still pleasing to both. I say “apparently” because they’ve now progressed to a level that I as an adult cannot grasp. Their play is physical, and seems to involve lots of noise, squealing and shouting, and imitating each other. Adrian’s part is entirely non-verbal and much of the time so is Ingrid’s. When she speaks to him, it’s baby talk.

When we are out walking he prefers holding Ingrid’s hand rather than mine.

I wonder how he will react after summer when she goes to school and won’t be at nursery with him any more.