Translation of the post below.

Last weekend my hubby had the weekend off. Those weekends when he isn’t working are quite different than those where I, and I alone,  rule.. not that I don’t always rule but, I try to, you know, “allow” him to have a say in a thing or two. .

I got busy cleaning (not that uncommon), and started sorting out what I wanted to throw away and what would go where. Strangely I did that this weekend too. You might think I had some sort of compulsive obsession disorder.

Meanwhile, my daughter, who is on this blog called the “bomb” because of how crazy energetic she is, was far, far away, in her own universe. A universe that only allows pens, crayons and paper. It will be a disappointment if she doesn’t become a famous artist… she has literally written something or drawn something on every wall.

Hubby where he belongs..

And the wild Tween, who enjoys nothing more than watching TV.

Youngest one doesn’t really have a universe yet, where he can disappear into. He likes to visit us though, most of the time he may stay. Because he is cute.

Last Sunday we met, the family, when I had finished work, down town Copenhagen and were going to stroll down the Stroeget. We, the parents, had a romantic idea about this event and thought to ourselves that we would maybe hold hands, walk slowly in the winter sun, and the kids would be skipping by our side, happy and laughing . The kids would be grateful and happy to be walking with their lovely parents and happy to be elsewhere than in locked up in their garden, like usual. (It is possible that I was the only one thinking this..)

We might even get crepes (crebes.. huge pancakes with chocolate on) , who knows!

It started ok, but after, what can I say without lying to your face, about half a minute they (the kids then) began, nearly with out taking a breath between sentences, asking for something sugary to eat. With in seconds of having gotten the idea that they were in fact very hungry for chocolate they were possessed with chocolategreed (yes.. translated straight form an icelandic word I seriously doubt exists..but it makes sense, to me at least).

We walked past the crepes stand and they didn’t get crepes, we walked by the bakery (and there the oldest one actually started freaking out a bit) and they got nothing and then at last a hot dog stand..and they got nothing. Now a minute has passed since we began this walk.

The second minute of this great stroll on a beautiful Sunday was really the same, but a bit worse. I had gone from being happy mom, to irritated cleaning lady. Kids kept whining about how hungry they were. They were, in their own words, about to just DIE.

We walked, NB no strolling anymore, to Kongens Nytorv, but on the way down there we stopped by the tallest man on earth (I think, if I’m wrong I don’t really care). Kids thought he was way too cool, also the Tween thought so. My hopes for  a romantic Sunday stroll got a bit brighter there, beside the tall guy.. but when we continued walking, the kids remembered that they had been in a bad mood, and went back to it.. but now WORSE! Let the games begin.

I lost my temper and few carefully chosen words fell from my mouth in the middle of Stroeget. I guess I was lucky that on this time of day and week, there are almost only Chinese tourists on Stroeget.

We made it to Nyhavn. Barely. We tried to hold hands and make the best of it, but when you have a Tween in a bad mood (walking slower than slow behind everyone to make a statement) and a Bomb walking in her own universe on our side and the youngest one playing with fate, whilst walking too close to the water… it is impossible.

Well, at this point in the story, we have been walking for about 15 minutes and if I’m correct it is about an hour since they got breakfast (so they shouldn’t be that hungry) but still they keep whining, louder than before. You could think they were a prisoner who hadn’t gotten anything to eat or drink for the last couple of days, at least according to their description of stomach pain, headache and basically ruined life.

I have to give them that they are persistent little devils, I’m going to say that will help them on their path of life.. but not while strolling romantically with me!

At this point I have left from being the irritated cleaning lady to being the mad shrew that hasn’t gotten any for months.

There we can see the Tween in real Tween mood. We contemplated whether we should leave him there or if we should just jump into the canal.

The sympathy-full brother who fully takes part in being in a bad tween mood, even though he really can’t remember why all the bad mood is. The Bomb is there near by, but mostly she worries about if the, now evil, parents really are going to leave her brothers behind.

I had to carefully chose more words and make them fall from my mouth along with threatening to call him raisinbun (again made-up icelandic word translated literally.. it is like calling him pumpkin or some other word no tween can bare to be called in-front of friends) in front of his friends next time I would be in his school to get him to move towards our bikes so we could just go home.

On this particular Sunday, it took exactly 30 minutes from being in a good and hopeful mood to everyone being angry and nobody got any crepes or chocolate nothing.

It wasn’t until we stopped on a red light on the way home that the Hubby mentioned that he was disappointed because we had actually allowed the kids to buy toys the day before, that I think something happened in the brain of the Tween. Either that or his hormones went to sleep, he changed into the sweetest boy and was very helpful.. I don’t get this..

Very Copenhageny

Or this! I wonder what kind of ladder they use to make it up there..

This picture is taken on another day, a better day, haha. I put them side by side too see how big the youngest one has gotten. He is 5 and she  goes 9 this year. They look alike on this image.

Bomb got a new bike, a very pretty one I must say (I picked it out..), after hers got stolen.

Then I said some about playing concerts today, it went well. Tired I am, because I went to work about 7 this morning. That is hard because it is Sunday and I’m a B person.

Then I plan to collect all the images I have taken of them while they are in a bad mood, crying or having a hormone fit (I photograph them like that  because I think they are cute and funny while they act like that)  and put them in a special album. The album will then be my gift to them when they have children. Yes, the day I become a grandmother I will make sure that they know what they are getting into!…Mwwwwooooooahhahahahaha