love Archives

Apples and Appelmoes

25 Sep

25 September 2017

“Apple tree! Apple! said two-year-old Matteo as he pointed to his older brother Bram who was preoccupied with picking an apple. “Wow….”

We were in the middle of an apple orchard on what was a picture- postcard perfect sunny and warm autumn Sunday morning twenty minutes away from home. We even took the scenic route among the cows, horses, corn stalks, and polders to get there.

To our utter amazement, rather than violently shaking the tree and branches, our five-year-old Bram was doing what he was instructed to do by the farmers – twisting the apple gently and slowly in such a way that the branches and leaves stay intact. My husband and I couldn’t have been more proud.

We spent a good hour just watching the two transfixed by this cherished rite of fall, getting their hands and boots dirty on a simple mission to collect the perfect apple. It was also surprisingly peaceful despite having to jostle through the crowds at the parking lot and entrance. We had an undisturbed lane of apple trees ready for their fruit to be harvested all to ourselves. And at one point, all three of my boys – husband and two sons -were happily eating apples, savoring the taste of freshly plucked fruit straight from the branch.

Apparently, the custom of recreational apple picking in September isn’t a beloved family tradition among the Dutch passed on from generation to generation. At least, not according to my thirty-eight-year-old husband nor sixty-three-year-old Oma nanny. Apple picking seems to be a newly adopted tradition here in the Low Countries, possibly inspired by Americans, or the British.

This is quite surprising because apples and all the lovely, delicious treats they make with them – pies, cakes, beignets, sauces, and jams – are a quintessential part of Dutch cuisine and culture. Dutch-style pancakes aren’t complete without applestroop, a thick, dark, sugary and tangy spread make out of apples. They eat applesauce with everything! I suspect it’s because homemade applesauce is often one of the first foods Dutch babies sample, and never grow out of. And of course, there’s a rich tradition and history of apple cultivation in the Netherlands. Our family’s favorite apple variety and for many people around the world is Elstar, cultivated in the Dutch town of Elst in the 1950s.

My Dutch husband confessed that when I initially brought up the idea of going apple picking, he envisioned us working alongside farmworkers. As exhausted as he was from work and desirous of a slow, lazy Sunday morning, he thought it a great opportunity to show our boys the realities of farm life. He was afraid, however, that in reality, it would mean him doing most of the actual physical labor while I took pictures and the boys watched. To his amazement and relief, “apple picking” was a fun, relaxed and wholesome family experience that the boys could actively take part in.

We left with two full bags – one with Elstars and the other with Goudreinet, a great bargain for only €8 and eight kilograms (eighteen pounds). We have our hearts set on putting these farm-fresh apples to good use: homemade apple pies, apple cakes, applesauce, and plenty of apples to share with friends and neighbors.

We look forward to going apple picking every year from now on, come rain or shine.

Finding Dutchland’s Recipe for Dutch Appelmoes (Applesauce)

Ingredients

4 apples – peeled, cored and chopped

*Goudreinet apples are the traditionally favored ones among the Dutch. Any crisp and mildly tart variety will suffice.

1 cup of water

*add a little more water if necessary, especially in the end

2 cinnamon sticks

1/3 cup of white sugar

Directions

In a medium-sized saucepan, combine apples, water, sugar, cinnamon sticks.

Cover and cook over medium to low heat for about 20 to 30 minutes, or until apples are soft.

Allow to cool and remove cinnamon sticks. If you prefer it soft and creamy, use a food processor or potato masher. If you like it with a bit chunky, it’s ready straight from the pan.

Enjoy!

This is Thirty-Five

23 May

23 May 2017

By Rina Mae Acosta

I welcomed my 35th birthday listening to the wise words of rapper 50 Cent, “Go shawty, it’s your birthday. We gon’ party like it’s yo birthday.” Except, you wouldn’t find me at the club. I spent it by having coffee at my favorite local café with a dear friend, going to the village farmer’s market, stealing some time to write, and cooking and enjoying an elaborate dinner for a party of six.

I’ve also just gotten home from a whirlwind, four-week book tour and family vacation to San Francisco, New York, Washington D.C., and a farm in England. There’s nothing like a life-changing trip (first book tour ever) and a landmark birthday as the impetus for doing some serious soul-searching and taking an honest inventory of my life.

So since it was my birthday, I’m taking this opportunity to share what I know being thirty-five years young:

Less is More

There’s a reason why Marie Kondo’s “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” continues to spark a decluttering craze around the planet. Her tough love approach to only holding on to what’s essential and what sparks joy is transformative. Having less stuff really does lead to genuine bliss – I’ve made going Kondo a yearly endeavor.

Not Giving a F*ck (Valuing My Time and Mastering the Art of Saying “No”)

Sarah Knight’s “The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*ck: How to Stop Spending Time You Don’t Have with People You Don’t Like Doing Things You Don’t Want To Do” sums it all up. I’ve learned to value my time and no longer feel socially obligated to being around people and situations that do not bring me joy. In a world of saying “yes” and the real fear of missing out, it’s no wonder that people find it nearly impossible to have a work-life balance. I’ve learned that being able to say “no” helps me establish clear boundaries and to accomplish the goals I have set out.

Finding Joy in the Mundane and the Ordinary

A large part of my reality involves managing the household – laundry, cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping and random errands. Rinse and repeat. There’s also being a mother to two little boys. I’ve learned to see the daily grind as signs of privilege and blessings – that we have clothes to wear, a roof over our head, more than enough food on the table, and the luxury to have a boring reality that requires maintenance, love, and care.

Being Grateful and Acknowledging My Privilege

It’s easy to count the strikes against me: I’m a person of color (Filipino ancestry), a woman, short, and not born with a trust fund. I also acknowledge my privilege as a middle-class, highly educated American married to a Dutch citizen and raising my children in the Netherlands. I am immensely grateful for this lot I have in life. And though the creative life (author) is rife with a lot of insecurity (personal and financial), inklings of self-doubt, brick walls, and frustrations, it is a privilege to be able to pursue it. Whatever successes I do have in life, it is also not something I accomplished alone. It’s because of all the love and support of kind souls, friends, family, and strangers that have helped me get to where I am today.

Saying What I Mean and Meaning What I Say

Horton, the elephant in Dr. Seuss’ “Horton Hatches the Egg”, once said, “I meant what I said and I said what I meant. An elephant’s faithful one-hundred percent”. Dutch directness is one of my favorites aspects of Dutch culture. Though it might at times be challenging when speaking to American, British, and Asians and basically everyone else who are accustomed to more indirect and polite way of communicating, I love no longer having to second guess and wonder what people mean. There’s definitely a lot less anxiety and stress over it.

Loving the Skin I’m In

It took my thirty-five years to genuinely love and accept my dark complexion and my wobbly bits. With regular applications of sunscreen, I’m showing my children not to be afraid to turn their face towards the sun. Generations of backward colonial mentality stops with me. And since this is the only life that I get to have (that I am aware of), I might as well enjoy the only body given to me. Part of that, of course, is eating relatively healthy with foods that feed both my body and soul, and regular exercise.

Being a Work-In-Progress

I’ve come to realize and accept the fact that I will always be a work-in-progress. I’m only human after all. And that part of being alive is self-discovery. I hope never to stop wanting to learn, to always discover new things and let my curiosity lead the way.

Kindness and Love

Always choose kindness and love in whatever you do. It’s essential to living a life well lived.

Going Dutch: Volendam and Marken

29 Jul

29 July 2016

By Rina Mae Acosta

photo of Marken from the ferry

Since my father was visiting us from California, we wanted him to experience a bit of Dutch nostalgia and witness first hand one of Europe’s most charming countrysides. Luckily, the Netherlands is such a tiny country that chances are we could get to any destination within a reasonable amount of time. We sought our sights up North, just half an hour from Amsterdam in Waterland – a municipality of North Holland consisting of the famed, picturesque villages of Edam, Volendam, and Marken. With a squirmy one-year-old and a rambunctious four-year-old in tow, the day-trip needed to be something easy, convenient and relaxed – so we aimed for two out of the three tourist destinations (Volendam and Marken).

Upon arriving at the marina of Volendam, my father explains out loud, “So basically Volendam is the Dutch version of San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf. I love it!” I nodded yes as my eyes wandered onto the promenade lined with souvenir shops, bars and restaurants, and hordes of tourists. The major differences, I pointed out, are that Volendam is a couple of hundred years older and here you can be enticed by Dutch delicacies such as kibbeling, herring, and smoked eel. They even have their own dialect.

For a megadose of Dutch kitsch, we took photos in traditional Dutch clothing at Foto de Boer. According to local lore (workers), there really isn’t much of a difference in terms of price and quality from the various shops because they are all under one ownership. My four-year-old and dad enjoyed dressing up and playing with the various props. My dad even offered to buy the male costume for the boys for Halloween until I told him that it wasn’t celebrated in the Netherlands.

photo of Volendam from the ferry

The moment we were done taking pictures, we headed straight for the twenty-minute ferry ride to Marken on the Volendam Marken Express. Stepping onto the boat provided a welcome relief from the touristy crowds and a quiet sanctuary promising a bit more of an authentic experience.

Referred to by locals as ‘Mereke’, the island of Marken is a traditional Dutch fishing village with a population of 1,810. First established in the thirteenth century by monks and situated on the former Zuiderzee, Marken evolved into a harbor for whaling and herring fishing in the 17th and 18th centuries. In 1957, a dike was constructed, connecting the island of Marken to the rest of the country and transforming it into an off-the-beaten path tourist attraction.

We had a two hour leisurely lunch at the seaside terrace of Café-Restaurant Land en Zeezicht. The lunch was delicious, but when we visit again, I’d love to try one of the small market stands offering the local seafood fare.

We then explored the hidden alleyways and back roads of the village, allowing my oldest boy to run around and my baby to fall asleep in the stroller. The well-preserved village with green wooden houses built on pillars, perfectly manicured lawns, and laundry hanging out to dry, made it easy to imagine going back a hundred years or so.

By the time we were headed home, we had our fill of going Dutch and grateful for experiencing a beautiful town that time seemed to forget. An added bonus on the late afternoon ferry ride home was seeing all the boats and yachts sailing into the sunset, a nod to the rich boating tradition of the Dutch.

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Is it normal…? Parenting a Puppy Part 2

27 May

27 May 2016

By Michele Hutchison

“Maaike did an amazing job taking this photo. Like small children, puppies are in constant motion”

In my last blog post I wrote that puppies were now being raised using what are essentially positive parenting techniques. Bad behaviour should be ignored and good behaviour reinforced with praise. I figured it might be easier with a dog than a child since you might not lose your temper so easily – we have lower expectations for dogs than kids (note to self: return to this in a later blog!). We’ve had the puppy for a month now and ignoring bad behaviour has been the first thing to go out of the window. Positive parenting puppy failure #1. The thing is there are limits, if there’s one word you need with a young puppy, it’s a resounding ‘no!’. This is primarily for reasons of safety – both the puppy’s and your own. Gnawing at electricity cables. No. Biting limbs and extremities. No. Tearing the clothes off your body. No. There are some activities that just have to be stopped right away. I can take away a cushion and give the dog a toy to chew on instead, but when its teeth are sunk into your kid’s arm, it’s another story.

There is some less desirable behaviour that can be ignored. Taking a puppy out for a walk is like going somewhere with a two-year-old. They’re distracted by everything, want to run off all over the place and alternate between racing along as fast as they can and stopping, lying down and refusing to move. They also pick up everything they see, from dirty tissues and random litter to pen tops and plastic bags containing other dog’s poos. When my daughter Ina was two, she wanted to be carried everywhere. She wasn’t keen on walking. My friend Caroline taught me what she called ‘the boring hold’. Have the child walk and when she whines ‘carrryyyy’, pick her up and just stand there waiting until she asks to be put down again so you can actually go somewhere. When Pippa lies down and refuses to move, I employ the boring hold technique by turning away from her and standing very still. So far it’s been working.

Another thing about being a first-time owner that is reminiscent of being a first-time parent is that gnawing anxiety about not knowing stuff. ‘Shit, someone left me in charge of a puppy and I’m not fit for the purpose’ is what flashes through my head when I have to do something complicated like take the puppy with me to a work meeting that includes getting buses and the metro. Travel plus being in charge of a small, helpless being is right up there in my list of nightmare scenarios. Anxiety also causes a lot of frenzied online googling. ‘Is it normal for my girl puppy to have something that looks like a willy?’ (the answer was yes, she’ll grow into it. Weird, right?). ‘Is it normal for my puppy’s poop to be a different colour every time?’ Sure.

And then there’s the mad hour she has at a different time every day. A friend who’s a bit of an animal activist and against pedigree dogs (he works at Varkens in Nood – which is like a Dutch pig rescue charity) happened to mention ‘rage syndrome’ or Sudden Onset Aggression which can affect Golden Retrievers and other family-friendly breeds like Spaniels and Labradors. Apparently, they suddenly go all mental and bitey and there’s nothing you can do about it. Pippa’s mad hour looks a bit like sudden onset aggression, the whites of her eyes appear, she races around with her ears flat to her head and jumps up nipping at everything in a total frenzy. Googling didn’t help assuage my concerns but last night at puppy training, Martijn learned it was normal puppy behaviour. Thank God for that.

One final thing I’ve learned this month is let sleeping dogs lie. It’s when they’re at their sweetest, plus it’s the only time you can get some rest (or work done).

A Love Letter to the Netherlands

3 May

3 May 2016

By Rina Mae Acosta

Dear Dutchland,

You’re officially known as the Netherlands mainly by the Dutch, but often referred to simply as Holland by the rest of the world, or the Low Countries for those who are more intimately acquainted with you. But to me, you are “Dutchland”, the world in which I choose to see you and turn my face towards the sun (if we’re lucky and it’s around).

Visiting Amsterdam to enjoy your country’s liberal attitude towards certain illicit behaviours is what you’re (in)famous for. But actually moving here and setting up roots, especially in one of your villages, is not a “thing” like moving to Paris, or somewhere under the Tuscan sun.

Celebrating King’s Day, Liberation Day and Memorial Day has put me in a reflective mood. There are several facets of life here that has enriched mine and my family’s life. Let me count the ways.

Being fashionably thrifty

It’s quite refreshing to live in a culture that embraces the virtue of living within one’s means. The Dutch understand that #thestruggleisreal and don’t try to put up to pretenses. Perhaps the best known example is the urban legend about Prime Minister Willem Drees and an American diplomat after World War II. When the American diplomat came to visit the Prime Minister’s home to discuss what America could do to support the Dutch economy, apparently Mrs. Drees served him a cup of tea with just ONE cookie. The American was so shocked at the meager hospitality that he considered it a clear indication that the Dutch needed a lot of assistance to climb out of poverty. Little did the American know that the “one cookie experience” and the modest home was simply Dutch thriftiness.

The biking life

The bicycle isn’t some trendy hipster accessory. It’s an actual means of transportation for the Dutch. And I’m a certified bakfiets (cargo bike) mommy which is akin to the suburban American mom with a minivan. Though at times it can be a pain biking through hail, snow, wind, and rain – sometimes all in one day – I’m grateful for the regular dose of exercise and not to be living a big portion of my life stuck in traffic and fighting for parking spaces. I also look forward to the days when my kids can cycle independently to and from school, their various sports practices and whatever it is on their social agenda.

Yes to sandwiches for breakfast and lunch and pancakes for dinner

A Singaporean expat friend once asked me, “What’s the difference between a Dutch breakfast and a Dutch lunch?” I was stumped.

She answered, “The three hours in between the two meals.”

Once you get past the monotony of having sandwiches for breakfast and lunch, you realize how pragmatic and genius it is. No need to think or spend precious time preparing elaborate meals. Adulting with a four-year-old and a baby has been so much easier thanks to the no fuss approach to meals. Just set the table with breads, slices of cheese, butter and hagelslag and they’re happily eating. On days when we just had enough of all the crying and tantrums, we can just serve pancakes for dinner. And since the Dutch are the tallest people in the world, this way of eating can’t be detrimental to the physical development of children.

Refreshingly direct and honest communication

The Dutch are often mistaken for being rude and too opinionated, especially by expats. But after living here almost ten years, I’ve learned to bite the bullet and appreciate it. After all the tears and insecurities, I’ve developed a thick skin. I always know where I stand. And I’m convinced it’s one of the reasons why I’m so much happier – no second guessing, no passive aggressive communication, no uncertainty. If anything happens to be lost in translation, we can all just have a meeting to talk it out. And as they say, all the problems in the world can be solved with a pot of tea and a heart to heart.

Not giving a f*ck

One of the most liberating aspects of living in this country is that the Dutch don’t seem to give a f*ck. They live life according to their values and don’t try to live up to societal standards or bow to the pressure to be perfect and successful. It extends to parenting where they try their absolute best, but at the end of the day, being good enough more than suffices. And their parenting approach leads to their kids being the happiest in the world.

Love,

Rina Mae

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How I Ended Up in Dutchland and Why I Decided to Stay

26 Apr

26 April 2016

By Michele Hutchison

Next month I’ll have been living in Amsterdam for twelve years. It’s the longest I’ve lived anywhere. Until then my life seemed to have followed a rhythm in sixes, from birth to six years, from six to twelve, twelve to eighteen, then the six university years of moving every six months, and then six years in London. I didn’t come here for love, though I did marry a Dutchman. Actually, I was married to a Dutchman before I lived in Holland. We had a long-distance commuter marriage and that suited me just fine. (One of my exes once called me commitment-phobic, but we won’t go into that.) In any case, Amsterdam/London on alternate weekends went smoothly, until I got pregnant. And the pregnancy worked just fine, mainly on my own, until it was time to almost give birth. It was only logical for me to take my six-months paid maternity leave in Amsterdam, so off I went, 37 weeks pregnant and about to pop.

The Dutchman (he’s called Martijn* but only proper Dutch people can pronounce that, my mum spent years calling him Mar-tidge-en) picked me up in a van and drove me and my boxes and boxes of books from my publishing job back over the channel to his home city. I didn’t pop. It was six weeks before the baby deigned to make an appearance (another six). But by the time I’d crawled through the lonely isolation of a maternity leave in a foreign country, I realised I was going to have to change my plans.

What kind of a fruitloop would try to bring up a child in London when all the advantages of a happy, relaxed Dutch childhood were staring me in the face? Friends back home who had become mothers were killing themselves trying to get from the crèche to the office on time and back again in the rush hour. There was no let- up of work pressure, and on top of that there was pressure to be the perfect mum. Perfect mums did things like teaching their kids to read and write before they even went to school, when would I have time for that? When I took a look around me I saw that the Dutch have:

a fantastic, non-fee paying school system
relaxed parenting styles
kids playing freely outdoors
a better work/life balance for parents
no horrendous public transport issues – you could simply bike everywhere

It was a total no-brainer. And here I am almost twelve years later. I’ve got two children, a son Benjamin and a daughter, Ina, who is two and a half years younger. And my life has stopped moving in sixes. Although in six years’ time, I may be tempted to move again.

*Martijn is pronounced something like Moarr-tey-n. Only the Moarr bit has to be nice and short, not elongated.

Glamping at De Groene Hoeve (Feather Down Farm Holidays)

6 Jul

6 July 2015

By Rina Mae Acosta

When BoerenBed (Feather Down Farm Stays) invited us to a “glamping” trip at the De Groene Hoeve in exchange for a review, we couldn’t resist. The premise was that we would be given a gentle introduction to the world of camping while getting a glimpse of authentic farm life.

My three year old was ecstatic, repeatedly exclaiming weeks ahead to anyone who would listen – “Kamperen op de boerderij” (Camping on the farm). His enthusiasm was reassuring. My Dutch husband, who has years of camping experience from his youth, was amused. As someone who grew up in the (sub)urban jungles of San Francisco, I was intrigued and a bit apprehensive. Not one to turn down an adventure, I went with an open-mind.

De Groene Hoeve is run by husband and wife Cees and Niki Groenendijk. They operate an organic goat farm comprised of eighty-six milking goats. Like any proper farm, there’s also plenty of other animals to keep the goats company – two dogs, a cat, a horse, a pony, two piglets, bunnies, chickens and the occasional shy fox. There are also friendly neighborly cows in the distance. By the looks of it, these goats and other animals were quite happy.

As soon as we arrived at the farm in the early evening, Niki seemed to magically appear to greet us. She speaks impeccable English with a charming British accent. We appreciate her hands-on, personal approach to giving us (and all the other guests) a crash course in the ins-and-outs of the camping grounds and the farm.

Betere Boeren Bed Tent (Feather Down Farm Tent)

Each Betere Boeren Bed Tent offers all the benefits of camping – nostalgia for a simpler, imagined past and communing with nature – with several modern conveniences. Each large canvas tent is fully equipped like a miniature two-bedroom apartment (one with bunk beds and the other with a queen size bed), a fully equipped kitchen with cold running water, a living room with a dining area and sofa, and private bathroom facilities. And of course, decorative pieces scattered here and there, real hardwood floors and windows you can open and close that all add to the feeling of gezelligheid, a Dutch word that embodies coziness, warmth and love. And the highlight for many kids (and even adults) is cupboard type bed that can easily be shared by two children, or serve as a great reading nook.

The rest – such as building your own fire, living without electricity and being off the grid (no internet connection) – is part of the charm. It’s when the real camping begins.

For gourmands and camping enthusiasts, there’s a wood-oven stove right in the center of each tent (the beating heart) and an outdoor wood cooker. And never fear – there’s freshly chopped wood and a fire building starter kit right at your fingertips. There’s the option to dine indoors, or outside depending on your mood and the weather.

Part of the highlight of the trip was on Saturday evening when Niki and Cees hosted a homemade pizza party for all the campers. It’s easy to fall in love with their rustic outdoor eating area with a large king size table and their wood-fired brick oven. The pizza was delicious and the homemade strawberry goat ice-cream was divine. It was also a great way to meet other families.

“It’s all about living to the rhythm of the land.” shares Niki.

I couldn’t help but reciprocate with an understanding smile. For starters, living off the grid (no internet connection and spotty cell phone reception) can do wonders for the soul. It guarantees families the time and space to do a lot of bonding with each other, free from the distractions of everyday modern life. Its quaintness and peacefulness lends to the atmosphere of slow living. The cozy campground, limited to only five tents and far away from the nearest road, is structured in a way to allow toddlers and young children to roam safely.

And no need to worry about planning activities – just starting the fires and keeping them going is an exercise in communication, patience and resourcefulness. Though it took us about two hours on our first try, we appreciated the sense of accomplishment of finally having a hot fire to cook food. There’s something quite refreshing and honest about making meals the old-school way.

As assured by Niki before our arrival, De Groene Hoeve really has everything that a family needs for a comfortable stay. All we needed was to bring ourselves and practical clothing for camping. There is a fully equipped store offering organic and locally grown products from other Dutch farmers, as well as basic necessities such as olive oils, soaps, etc.

As we were leaving, Niki offered our son a vintage toy truck. We accepted on the premise that it was merely a loan and that we would hopefully return it next year. De Groene Hoeve has definitely gotten this American-Dutch family hooked on glamping.

Location

What’s also surreal is that the location of De Groene Hoeve. It’s conveniently located in the Northwestern part of the Netherlands between two historic Dutch fishing villages – Hoorn (8km) and Enkhuizen (13 km). Although it’s only a mere forty-five minutes away from Amsterdam, the bucolic surroundings transports you to another time.

Bonus Tips

Take a cruise alongside the beautiful, historic city of Hoorn with Watertaxi Hoorn (ask for schipper Koen). Hoorn is definitely a hidden treasure off-the-beaten path.

Just a 15 minute drive away is Sprookjeswonderland (Fairytale Wonder Land) in Enkhuizen. It’s actually a wonderful getaway for families with children under the age of five.

From the Cutting Room Floor: A Letter to My Two Year Old Son

5 Nov

5 November 2014

By Rina Mae Acosta

hello-november

Dear Bram Jr.,

When I was pregnant with you, I had lofty aspirations and unrealistic expectations. I actually believed that If I allocated eight months (my entire pregnancy) of doing absolutely nothing but researching and reading all the highest rated parenting books according to Amazon and the New York Times, then everything would play out according to my plans. I was the perfect parent before I had you.

Part of the plan was to be writing monthly letters to you inspired by one of my favorite blogs – Nurshable. The premise would be to highlight your different quirks, personalities and milestones month by month. Helicopter-attachment-parenting at it’s absolute best, or worst, depending on whose opinion you’re soliciting. Obviously that didn’t happen because this is my first letter to you more than two and a half years after you were born. As a firm believer in self-improvement (I’m American after all), it’s never too late to start now.

So let’s get to the heart of our story shall we?

At two years and seven months, you make being a mom an absolutely wonderful experience. I’m starting to distrust the common myth of the terrible twos. Rather, I would like to re-name this wonderful age as the “terribly, terrific twos”.

You are so affectionate. You love random cuddles throughout the day and insist on falling asleep in my arms.

You’re very clear of what you do and do not want. And while you also have your set of preferences, you’re also open to and curious about discovering the world around you. I pray that you never loose this. Stay true to yourself.

You love to sing and dance. I’m not sure where you got that from because your dad and I are tone deaf and each have two left feet.

The infamous toddler tantrums are far and few inbetween simply because we finally learned your language, rythm and schedule. You sometimes get upset and tears are shed to release your frustration. It doesn’t last long. There isn’t a simple explanation, perhaps an apology in order and a cuddle that would make everything better.

You are absolutely crazy about everything and anything related to transportation vehicles – construction trucks, cranes, trains, motorcycles, boats, and cars.

You love books and reading, whether it’s imaginary play reading, or one of us reading out loud.

You’re proactive about being helpful with household chores. Though it does take longer, a lot of patience and holding back my tongue, I’m absolutely delighted when you “help” set the table, vacuum, and load/unload the laundry. I’m afraid that the concept of folding clothes hasn’t

You’ve discovered the joy of stickers, coloring and arts and crafts. Thank God for your preschool to organize those things for you.

You’re finally sleeping in till at least 8:30 a.m. In my mind, that’s an absolute miracle.

You love being outside, whether to play in the sandbox, jump on the trampoline, lie on the grass (or trampoline) and stare at the clouds above, run around in the garden, “bike” to your heart’s content, and take walks in the forest right outside our front door.

You’re a foodie! Although you won’t eat everything, you’re always willing to try something new and decide for yourself whether or not your like it. You absolutely love Filipino stews like Chicken Tinola (Chicken clear broth stew with lemon grass), Bulalo (beef marrow stew) and Sinigang (Tamarind soup) and Pinakbet (Filipino vegetable medley stew) with a generous helping of rice. When you’re hungry, you would simply say “Soup rice”, climb up your chair and sit expectantly at the dining table.

And of course, you are absolutely crazy over herring with onions, smeer kaas (spreadable cheese), hagelslag (chocolate sprinkles) with white bread and butter, and french fries. To get to your heart, a warm cup of chocolate milk always does the trick.

I was actually caught off-guard with how enjoyable parenting a toddler can be. Perhaps I read too much of Scary Mommy and The Huffington Post. Rather seeing the humor of all the wonderfully witty stories, I became anxious about this stage and dreaded it. Sarcasm sometimes gets lost in translation. Forgive me for being wrong.

Being a mommy blogger, I’m also careful to protect your privacy. There are the things unwritten and unsaid that will remain just between us. Though part of blogging is connecting to the bigger and larger world, to commiserate and share our experiences, I’m also coignizant that some things shouldn’t be shared unless with your permission. And right now, at two years and seven months, I have the foresight to gage that it’s a little too young and presumptious of me to ask it of you. But what I can share with conviction, is that overall, our life right now when you’re two years old is perfectly imperfect.

I don’t know how long this stage is going to last. The superstitious voice in my head (a byproduct of having Filipino parents) warns me that providing an honest snapshot of my personal life would mean sabotage. But the reality is, and it took me becoming a mother to internalize this fact, is that nothing in life is permanent. Not if, but when. The only things we have my dear son is now, our hopes, our dreams and each other.

These must be the precious handful of little children years that empty-nesters long for the most. When a young family’s life can be chaotic and exhausting, but delightfully simple and refreshingly ordinary. For now, there’s no worries about school bullies, fitting in, grades, standardized testing (CITO and Common Core come to my mind), schedules governed by soccer practices and music lessons. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there (which isn’t too long from now I’m afraid). There’s also no dealing with teenage hormones, resentment issues, drama and a whole boatload of other emotional landmines that adolescence may bring.

So for now, waking up from the fog of severe sleep deprivation and exhaustion the first year and a half brought (and occassionally still does), I’m reveling in the moment of the terribly, terrific twos. Thank-you.

Love,

Your Mom

(Photo taken of my son at the Kröller-Müller Musem)

Going Country Bumpkin

19 May

19 May 2014

By Rina Mae Acosta

I have a confession to make. It’s been brewing for a couple of months now. And my heart had been bursting to share for quite a while now. But my pragmatic Dutch husband asked for my silence until everything was settled. Now that all the contracts have been signed, sealed and delivered, the world can officially know.

My family and I going country bumpkin on you folks.

We are moving next month to Doorn, a small Dutch village nestled in the nature forest reserve area of the Utrechtse Heuvelrug (Utrecht Hill Ridge). The Dutch who live in a country that would be about 44% submerged underwater if it wasn’t for Dutch ingenuity would refer to this area as hills.

After seven years in the Netherlands, this expat-that-could is going to go where very little expats have dared venture out to, deep into the heart of the Dutch sticks.

Okay, maybe it’s a bit of an exaggeration. This is the Netherlands we’re talking about – a country where it only takes about 2-4 hours (depending on where you to start) to drive across entirely. We will still be only half an hour drive away from Utrecht and forty-five minutes away from Amsterdam. But Doorn feels like an entirely different world.

I have always been a city girl at heart, but it’s not who I am anymore. Not at this moment. Right now, I am a mother to a precocious and adventurous two-year old boy who loves nothing more than to play outside. And I find myself being more at ease and being able to enjoy the experience more when he’s exploring in a natural playground setting rather than the confines of an urban jungle, or non-descript suburbia.

Granted, there are also lots of dangers to learn about and be aware of like ticks and snakes for example. But it’s a trade-off we’re willing to make for wanting him to grow up close to nature and as my husband and I figure out what this whole balancing of parenting and being both career-driven personalities is all about.

And I’m also a writer. I’m craving the time, space and quiet to be alone with my thoughts. All this writing about happiness precipitated some serious soul-searching. I want to be an authentic, genuine voice – as an Asian (Filipino)-American mother, wife and writer currently living in the Netherlands (Europe). I have my heart set on bringing diversity to the written and blogging world. And I’m utterly convinced that moving to Doorn will be what I need to develop myself – a sort of healthy compromise between the real-world demands of my husband’s blossoming career and my need for a writing sanctity.

So we’ve notified our landlord, contacted the movers and are now are looking forward to a month of preparing for the big move.

Hope you continue following me on my adventures of making a home in the Netherlands. Here’s to Finding Dutchland, where ever you may be.

When in Rome

28 Nov

28 November 2013

By Rina Mae Acosta

November for a lot of Americans is the time to reflect on life’s blessings and to take a moment together on the fourth Thursday of the month with friends and family to give thanks. As an American expat living in the Netherlands, I’ve had to readjust my expectations of this beloved, controversial holiday.

Nonetheless, November will always hold a significant moment in our life for a very personal reason. It marks the anniversary date of a very special, once-in-a-lifetime moment where my Dutch husband swept me off my feet. When I first came to the Netherlands, my husband’s friends were quick to joke that I fell in love with the wrong Dutch guy. For one, he is short (5’10”) in comparison to the stereotypical gigantic Dutch bloke. He has black wavy hair, olive skin tone and dark brown eyes. He also doesn’t abide by the rules of going Dutch – the Dutch etiquette of paying for your own dinner when you go out on date. But they were all utterly wrong – I fell in love with just the right Dutch guy for me.

photo courtesy of Jennifer Skog, styling by Maria Chang

Four Novembers ago, my ultra-romantic then fiancée decided to plan a romantic surprise for me. This was before the current trend of surprise, epic flash mob proposals going viral on the internet these days. He planned a surprise engagement session in Rome with San Francisco-based photographer Jennifer Skog and stylist Maria Chang.

From what I recall, one November morning, my fiancée told me to pack my bags and told me that he was going to take me away for a romantic getaway. I distinctly remember being excited – after all, I would find any excuse to get away from the depressing cold Dutch winter and I loved exploring more of Europe. En route to the airport, he handed me a present letting me know where we were headed – Lonely Planet’s Rome. He wanted to take me on my very own Roman Holiday. Waiting for us at the airport in Rome was a formal limousine driver holding a sign with my husband’s last name on it. He drove us straight to a hotel literally at the steps of the Pantheon.

photo courtesy of Jennifer Skog, styling by Maria Chang

The following evening, after a beautiful day roaming around the Vatican, he told me that we had a very special dinner date. I casually ignored his subtle hints and simply looked forward to the fancy dinner ahead. It was there at the restaurant that he revealed his secret with a his classic mischievous boyish grin, saying only that he flew in two people just for me. I was breathless, thinking that he had flown in my untraveled parents and had expected them to find the restaurant alone.

A couple of moments later, in walked Jennifer and Maria. It was the biggest surprise of my life (pre-baby) and I just couldn’t believe it. Even Jennifer and Maria were perplexed that my fiancée was able to pull it off without me knowing, or having any suspicion at all with what was going on behind the scenes. He literally flew them from San Francisco to Rome to make me feel like a princess for the day. And of course, they also brought along a special outfit for me just for the photoshoot.

(For a glimpse of that magical moment, you can watch the video below.)

ROME COUTURE SHOOT | Rina & Bram from Maria Chang on Vimeo.

What Jennifer Skog and Maria Chang didn’t know when they met me that beautiful November evening was that I was really not at a good place in my life. I was utterly in love with the man of my dreams, but I was drowning in culture shock and suffering from lapses of regret, disillusionment, and anger. I was thrown into the deep end, the kind where I had to be around alleen maar nette mensen. If I were to be completely honest, I was probably also suffering from depression. I was, after all, doing what most self-absorbed twenty something women tended to do – have a delusional myopic, narcissistic perspective rather seeing the bigger picture. For someone too caught up in her own insecurities about living in the Netherlands, it wasn’t too hard to plan something right underneath her nose and catch her in utter surprise.

It takes a lot of bravado to choose love, to follow someone across the world and to take a blind leap of faith that this was the man that God had in mind for you. The rest of the world, especially the status conscious world where I came from, isn’t too forgiving to those who chose a different life. I grew up believing wholeheartedly that I wasn’t a princess and I only had my brains and sheer grit to earn myself a better life. Life, as I was somehow deluded into believing, was supposed to be a straight trajectory to a certain standard of success, where the idea of self-worth was inextricably linked to visible accomplishments.

photo courtesy of Jennifer Skog, styling by Maria Chang

But…meeting my husband profoundly changed me and I hungered for more than wandering around life wearing paychecks like necklaces and bracelets. I longed to live a more authentic, genuine life with someone who took my breath away and inspires me to be a better person. Wanting and actually being are two different mindsets and it took me a lot longer to fully transition to a liberating paradigm shift of a more authentic self.

We still look fondly at that special November day in Rome. What made it also magical was Jennifer and Maria were just as excited as we were. These talented ladies also share a spark that my husband has – the kind that’s passionate, crazy about life and who wear their hearts on their sleeves. What makes them amazing (aside from talent and creativity) and stand-out from the crowd is their openness, their unabashed honesty and their willingness to simply love. Their hearts were into making that day special for us and they unknowingly helped me find my inner confidence. While it did take four years for me to finally express my sincerest gratitude to Maria and Jen, I hope that they’re reading this and know how much these two ladies mean to me. If you’re a bride-to-be looking for a photographer and stylist, I would recommend these two in a heartbeat. And yes, they’re worth every penny being flown anywhere you happen to be getting married or proposed to.

photo courtesy of Jennifer Skog, styling by Maria Chang

Life is messy and filled with lots of ups, downs and curve-balls. Somewhere along the way, I really did loose my voice. Or more accurately, I stopped giving myself permission to use my voice. My husband taught me how to really live life, of not being afraid to embrace all of it – the sorrows, disappointments, heartaches, laughter, joy and the love.

Happily ever after consists of the mundane, daily grind of real daily life. It’s about finding a partner in your life that calls you gorgeous even though you feel like a hot mess. It’s about being able to sleep in almost every morning while he happily spends time with his son, the sacred hour(s) when it’s just him and his boy. It’s about saying yes to his wildly ambitious dreams of success and having the courage to take a backseat to a career to take care of the family. It’s about embracing life in Dutch suburbia, of not letting the social isolation wear me down and accepting that right now, at this moment, this is the place where we need to be. It’s about finding the joy in what ever life has set out for us and finding fulfillment of motherhood and being an entrepreneur’s wife.

photo courtesy of Jennifer Skog, styling by Maria Chang

And sometimes in life, there’s a time when a special someone takes you on a Roman holiday and takes your breath away.

p.s. If you’re interested in seeing more photos from our Rome engagement shoot, you can view them on Jennifer Skog’s website.

THE FINE PRINT

© Rina Mae Acosta, Michele Hutchison and Finding Dutchland, 2013-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s authors and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts (limited to 10% of content) and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rina Mae Acosta, Michele Hutchison and Finding Dutchland with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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