Tuesday, December 29, 2015

The babies who nap in sub-zero temperatures by BBC

The babies who nap in sub-zero temperatures

  • 22 February 2013
  • From the section Magazine
Children in snow
Would you put your baby or toddler outside in the freezing cold for their lunchtime nap? Most Nordic parents wouldn't give it a second thought. For them it's part of their daily routine.
Daytime temperatures this winter in Stockholm have regularly dropped to -5C (23F) but it's still common to see children left outside by their parents for a sleep in the pram.
Wander through the snowy city and you'll see buggies lined up outside coffee shops while parents sip on lattes inside.
And if you are visiting friends and your child needs a nap, you may be offered the garden or balcony instead of a bedroom.
"I think it's good for them to be in the fresh air as soon as possible," says Lisa Mardon, a mother-of-three from Stockholm, who works for a food distribution company.
"Especially in the winter when there's lots of diseases going around... the kids seem healthier."
Her children have been sleeping outside since they were born.
The youngest, Alfred, is two and she puts him outside in the pram to nap once a day, for an hour and a half. When he was younger he slept outside twice a day.
This isn't a recent fashion. Lisa's mother, Gunilla, now 61, says she also did it with Lisa when she was a baby.
"Yes we were doing it back then as well… It was important for her to get fresh air and stay healthy," Gunilla says.
And Lisa's father, Peter, was put outside by his mother to sleep in a pram in the 1950s. Only when it got to around -10C (14F) did she bring him indoors.
Nowadays most day-care centres in Sweden put children outside to rest. It's common to see rows of prams lined up in the snow at nap-time, with youngsters fast asleep inside.
Baby asleep
Image caption The thermometer shows an outside temperature of -10C
At Forskolan Orren, a pre-school outside Stockholm, all children sleep outside until they reach the age of three.
"When the temperature drops to -15C (5F) we always cover the prams with blankets," says head teacher Brittmarie Carlzon.
"It's not only the temperature that matters, it's also how cold it feels. Some days it can be -15C but it actually feels like -20C (-4F) because of the wind," she says.
Prams outside a cafe
Image caption Babies often sleep outside cafes in Copenhagen too
"Last year we had a couple of days with a temperature of -20C. On those days we brought the prams inside some of the time the children were sleeping, but most of their sleep they spent outdoors."
One group at the pre-school spends all its time outside, from 09:00 to 15:00 every day. Out in the fresh air they do everything children normally do inside, only going inside at mealtimes, or in unusually cold weather.
The theory behind outdoor napping is that children exposed to fresh air, whether in summer or the depths of winter, are less likely to catch coughs and colds - and that spending a whole day in one room with 30 other children does them no good at all.
Many parents also believe their children sleep better and for longer in the open, and one researcher in Finland - outdoor napping is popular in all the Nordic countries - says she has evidence from a survey of parents to back this up.
"Babies clearly slept longer outdoors than indoors," says Marjo Tourula. While indoor naps lasted between one and two hours, outdoor naps lasted from 1.5 to three hours.
"Probably the restriction of movements by clothing could increase the length of sleep, and a cold environment makes swaddling possible without overheating," she says.
According to her research, -5C is the best temperature for an outdoor nap - though some parents she spoke to even put their children out at -30C.
But do children who sleep outside end up catching fewer coughs and colds?
Paediatrician Margareta Blennow says reports from the Swedish Environmental protection agency show conflicting results.
"In some studies they found pre-schoolers who spent many hours outside generally - not just for naps - took fewer days off than those who spent most of their time indoors," she says.
"In other studies there wasn't a difference."
Martin Jarnstrom, head of one of the Ur och Skur group of pre-schools , is another big advocate of outdoor naps, though he emphasises that while the weather may be cold, the child must be warm.
"It's very important that the children have wool closest to their body, warm clothes and a warm sleeping bag," he says.
There is a Swedish saying that encapsulates this thought - "There is no bad weather, only bad clothing."
Another saying sums up what Swedes are likely to think when toddlers in other countries are kept indoors in sub-zero temperatures: "A little fresh air never hurt anyone."

http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-21537988

Monday, December 21, 2015

Being Lucia from Stone Soup Magazine

From Stone Soup Magazine, Jan/Feb 2015

Being Lucia

written by Molly O’Toole, age 12
illustrated by Ravela Smyth, age 11
Teachers: “Being Lucia” is a story by a child on the subject of holidays. This story was written by Molly O'Toole when she was 12 years old. We give you permission to reprint it for your own homeschool and classroom use as part of your reading and language arts curriculum.
Molly O’Toole
Ravela Smyth
Beep! Beep! I spring out of bed when my alarm sounds, but no alarm was needed to wake me up. I have been waiting for this day my whole life. I keep my pajamas on, because I need to wear clothes that aren’t important for cooking. My stomach is doing that all too familiar flip-flop motion that indicates Today is St. Lucia day. Today, I am Lucia.
Bella and Matthew are already up and dancing around the kitchen. They look up when I come in. “Elizabeth!” they cry, and Bella runs up and hugs my waist. Bella is only five, but she’s super smart. She’s quiet and only speaks when necessary, but mostly because there’s too much going on inside her head. It must sound like a Lowell mill in there. Matthew’s eight and is a lot louder and more outgoing. He’s kind of a class clown.
The stairs creak, followed by loud thumping and groaning. It’s Kathryn. “Shush!” I say. “You’ll wake up the adults!” She gives me her classic touch-me-and-I’ll-kill-you look and grabs the recipe book off the shelf.
I have been waiting for this day my whole life
I have been waiting for this day my whole life

“OK, everyone knows the drill. Bella and Matthew gather the ingredients for the Lucia buns, I put them in the oven, and Elizabeth makes the coffee. Am I understood?”
I glare at Matthew, trying to warn him, but he can’t resist. “Sir yes, sir!” he shouts in a stern voice, then puffs out his chest and salutes Kathryn. I roll my eyes. Matthew has to learn that you can’t joke with her at 6:00 a.m. But Kathryn’s response takes me off guard.
“That’s more like it! Everyone, get busy!”
I grab the coffee pot and ground coffee and set some water to boil. Since coffee takes the shortest amount of time, I go to the hall closet and fetch the white robes and hats and wreaths.
My family is Swedish, so we celebrate St. Lucia Day. The oldest girl in the family wears a wreath with seven candles (fake, or real in my case) and a white robe with a red sash. She walks into the kitchen with St. Lucia buns and coffee, singing the St. Lucia song. Some families sing it in English, but we were always taught the Swedish version. The other kids wear white robes, and the really little ones dress up as tomtar, which are little Swedish mischievous elves, and sing other songs. The boys wear hats decorated with stars. They are stjärngossar, or star boys.
Kathryn was always Lucia, and now I’m thirteen and it’s finally my turn. There’s really no way to explain the way I feel. I guess you could say that it’s like waiting in line at the amusement park; waiting for hours and hours. But finally you get to go on the ride, and it’s the most amazing and exhilarating roller coaster that you will ever go on in your whole life. It’s like a breath of fresh air, a rainbow after a thunderstorm, light after darkness. It’s finally my time to be the special one, the one in the light. And I have never been more ready or eager.
I smile as I fold the robes and look out the window. It’s the kind of winter day where the sun shines golden light on the ground, melting the early morning frost and creating a warm kind of air to the chilly sky.
“Elizabeth! The buns are ready!” shouts Kathryn. I snap out of my daydream and head to the kitchen. Awaiting me is a tray of fresh-out-of-the-oven Lucia buns. They smell like saffron, and small little heat waves are slowly rising towards the ceiling. I love Lucia buns so much that it makes my mouth melt just looking at them. But these aren’t for me. I remind myself that I have to be Lucia, which means bringing the buns to other people and pretending that I’m glad just to watch them eat. But even that burden doesn’t take away the honor and glory that I get when I walk into the dining room. My great-grandmother wore that crown, and my grandmother, and my aunt, and my mother, and my sister. But now I’ll wear it, now I’ll get to share my Lucia story, and I’ll get to be part of that club, that knowing. Me.
“Elizabeth, get Matthew and Bella ready, and I’ll finish the coffee. We need to hurry!” Kathryn wipes her forehead and gets out the mugs.
I take Matthew and Bella to the living room and pull the robes over their heads. “Here, Matthew—take your hat. Bella—get on your shirt.” I fly around, tying this and adjusting that, and finally the two young ones are ready, and I can get myself tidied up. Myself. Me. Lucia. I shake a little in a feeble attempt to calm myself down. It just can’t be done. It’s almost time.
I run to the bathroom and change out of my pajamas and put on my white robe. It flutters just to the floor—but not quite touching it. Below the bustline there are some pleats, which go on for a few inches. It’s simple but elegant.
The sash is beautiful. It’s a deep, wondrous color that’s somewhere between scarlet and burgundy. You can’t see this from afar, but it’s embroidered with tiny little flowers—poinsettias. I tie it around my waist and remove the crown wreath from its little box. It sits there while I brush my hair—I’m not really looking at it but I can picture it perfectly. It sits there in its own little glory, sitting on the bathroom cabinet; sitting in my thoughts and tinting them with a St. Lucia evergreen smell. Even though it’s made of artificial pine needles, I can still smell it. Soon it will sit on my head and boast that I’m Lucia, its bright candles illuminating my face and the tiny flames flickering in my eyes.
Setting down my brush, I leave the bathroom to see that Kathryn is all dressed and lighting the candles. “What time is it?” I whisper, since I think that the adults might be down soon.
“Six thirty, that’s when everyone’s supposed to get up!” she mutters back.
The tradition is that the grown-ups sleep in, but our parents always get up early because they’re so excited. It’s like little kids on Christmas.
Kathryn takes a better look at me and says, “You look really nice.”
I smile, “You too.” Kathryn helps me get on my crown and light the candles. And this is actually the first time that I’m feeling nervous about being Lucia. What if the candles fall? What if the wax drips on my hair and forehead? I must be visibly tensing up, because Bella walks over and takes my hand. I smile at her and try to control my breathing. I start to hear doors opening and footsteps descending the stairs. It is hard to breathe. I try to stay steady because there is fire on my head, but I’m not doing very well.
“Calm down. It’s easy,” Kathryn whispers. I just take a few deep breaths and grab the mugs and trays. I can hear Mom and Dad and Gramps and Grams getting in their chairs. Kathryn switches off the lights and nudges me. This is my moment. This is me. I walk slowly into the dining room, my heart racing ninety miles per hour. I hear Kathryn and Bella and Matthew behind me. This is when I’m supposed to start singing, but I don’t. I can’t.
I. Forget. The. Words. My head is racing. What’s the song called? I forget everything. My mind is blank. I see everyone looking at me expectantly. Finally someone must’ve caught on, because I hear Kathryn start to sing Sankta Lucia… And I am so glad because she saved it for me. Being Lucia would’ve been all ruined if it weren’t for her. I go along, ljusklara hägring. I smile brightly as I set the rolls and coffee down on the table. Everyone beams back. I feel special. I should. It’s me. Me being Lucia. And I feel bliss beyond compare. The bright candles mix in with everything—the good smells, the nice people. And as my eyes fill with tears, I feel as if I’m melting away into the bright candle surroundings, and everywhere is light. Light like my heart. Light like me. Me being Lucia.

http://www.stonesoup.com/being-lucia/

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Our Tomtes 2015

Our boys are 75% Italian. But the Swedish tomtes come out with these amazing Dalahorse leggings from Sweet Kiddie Co! 

St. Lucia video

https://vimeo.com/55253944?platform=hootsuite