Today is April 21st. We woke up this morning to about a quarter of an inch of snow on the ground. Seriously.
For the past several weeks, we have had at least one gorgeous Spring day.....I now have Spring Fever so bad that I am willing myself to eat on the porch when it is the least bit sunny outside. I am pushing The Belle outside to play if the sun is even peeking through the clouds. Perhaps it is denial......at our previous home in the US, people are already wearing flipflops and shorts. Here? I think it is warm when I can go outside with just a fleece jacket on. My, how things have changed.....
To add to the crazy weather, we have all been sick. Thanks, Dagis. Although, baby girl did get sick first.....and she doesn't go to Dagis yet. So for all we know, this wonderful mess came off of a cart at Maxi. All I know is that I feel horrible, and Mama is never allowed to be sick. *sigh*
What an uplifting post for you today! I promise things will get better......
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Done
I am so done.
Done with sassy husbands, crabby kids, obnoxious dogs, and tiny apartments. Done with pediatricians who snarkily say, "So you prefer English?" and "Americans certainly are ambitious with immunizations". Done with preschool teachers who tell me that the other teachers and parents are afraid to talk to me because I only speak English. Done. Done, I say.
And forgive me, said pediatrician, for immunizing my child according to American guidelines. A thousand pardons..............you idiot.
Done with sassy husbands, crabby kids, obnoxious dogs, and tiny apartments. Done with pediatricians who snarkily say, "So you prefer English?" and "Americans certainly are ambitious with immunizations". Done with preschool teachers who tell me that the other teachers and parents are afraid to talk to me because I only speak English. Done. Done, I say.
And forgive me, said pediatrician, for immunizing my child according to American guidelines. A thousand pardons..............you idiot.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Reflections
It has been almost 4 months since we made our big transatlantic move. In that time, I have made it through the worst winter in 50 years, a transition from a 1900 square foot house (with a yard) to a 900 square foot apartment, and various other ups and downs. Yet one thing eludes me about common interactions I have experienced. Let me explain.....
Example 1.....today baby girl and I went to Maxi (the Wal-Mart of Scandinavia) after we dropped The Belle off at dagis. Everything was cool....we took in our recycling and got the receipt for the pant. I got my self-scanner and we started on our way. I even brought my own bags, which was very European of me. So, I am going down the first aisle.....1 giant cart with an 11 month-old in the seat.....3 bags in the cart, waiting to be filled up. I stopped to get soap.....I scanned it, no problem. I put it in the bag and look up to see a pissed-off lady basically wanting to play chicken in the grocery aisle. Um, ok. So I hurriedly throw my soap in the bag and try to get out of her way, but she stays put and glares at me. Um, hello? I got so ruffled that I couldn't get out of her way fast enough so she could pick out her Pepsodent. I wanted to tell her, "If I am in your way, why don't you say excuse me? Is it not obvious that I don't see you?? And why are you so bitter?" But I digress......
Example 2......after Fun Times at Maxi, baby girl and I set our sights on home. At our apartment, there are gates at the paths but you can open them if you need to. I think 3 large bags of groceries and a sleeping infant qualify for opening the gate and driving up to the apartment door. Apparently I am wrong. As I get everybody and everything in the house, an elderly couple walks around from the other direction. If you have read any previous posts, you know my luck with the elderly....but I remained hopeful that they would just keep walking. The man did, but his wife stopped dead in her tracks, turned around, and stared at me until I was in the building. Then, as I went in to put the groceries in the kitchen I looked out the window and the man had stopped, turned around, and was watching me through the window. WTF? I gave him the stinkeye and he turned around and walked off, but really? What was that about? I know that I do not look typically Scandinavian.....I am a glamazon, a redhead that is almost 6 feet tall, but please do not stare at me like I dropped down from the moon. That rattled me so much that I had to call The International and ask him if I looked funny. Now he thinks I'm crazy, but I have had enough weird things happen to me since we've been here that I thought it was a valid question. Whew.
So, enough of my reflections for today. Hopefully next time they will be a little more positive. Hopefully.
Example 1.....today baby girl and I went to Maxi (the Wal-Mart of Scandinavia) after we dropped The Belle off at dagis. Everything was cool....we took in our recycling and got the receipt for the pant. I got my self-scanner and we started on our way. I even brought my own bags, which was very European of me. So, I am going down the first aisle.....1 giant cart with an 11 month-old in the seat.....3 bags in the cart, waiting to be filled up. I stopped to get soap.....I scanned it, no problem. I put it in the bag and look up to see a pissed-off lady basically wanting to play chicken in the grocery aisle. Um, ok. So I hurriedly throw my soap in the bag and try to get out of her way, but she stays put and glares at me. Um, hello? I got so ruffled that I couldn't get out of her way fast enough so she could pick out her Pepsodent. I wanted to tell her, "If I am in your way, why don't you say excuse me? Is it not obvious that I don't see you?? And why are you so bitter?" But I digress......
Example 2......after Fun Times at Maxi, baby girl and I set our sights on home. At our apartment, there are gates at the paths but you can open them if you need to. I think 3 large bags of groceries and a sleeping infant qualify for opening the gate and driving up to the apartment door. Apparently I am wrong. As I get everybody and everything in the house, an elderly couple walks around from the other direction. If you have read any previous posts, you know my luck with the elderly....but I remained hopeful that they would just keep walking. The man did, but his wife stopped dead in her tracks, turned around, and stared at me until I was in the building. Then, as I went in to put the groceries in the kitchen I looked out the window and the man had stopped, turned around, and was watching me through the window. WTF? I gave him the stinkeye and he turned around and walked off, but really? What was that about? I know that I do not look typically Scandinavian.....I am a glamazon, a redhead that is almost 6 feet tall, but please do not stare at me like I dropped down from the moon. That rattled me so much that I had to call The International and ask him if I looked funny. Now he thinks I'm crazy, but I have had enough weird things happen to me since we've been here that I thought it was a valid question. Whew.
So, enough of my reflections for today. Hopefully next time they will be a little more positive. Hopefully.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Playground Adventures and Waffle Day
Apparently I have a tattoo on my head that tells random people to start conversations with me. However, this tattoo only appears when I least want it to. Like yesterday......
I took The Minis to a nearby playground after lunch.....Spring has come to the tundra and it is glorious! There is still a little snow, but the sun is making more of an appearance, it is warm, and the ground is finally beginning to dry out. So, we are having a fab time....we have the playground to ourselves which is even better. Then here comes a teenage girl and her little sister. And the teenage girl wants to talk. Me? Not so much. Here's the Reader's Digest version of our convo:
Her: You Speak English?
Me: Um, yes.
Her: And your daughter speaks English?
Me: Um, yes.
Her: Wow. When I looked at you, I didn't think you looked like someone who spoke Swedish. Your baby is so cute.
Me: Thanks.
Her: Blah, blah, blah, blah.......so your daughter speaks English? Your baby is so cute. And you speak English? Blah, blah, blah, blahhhhhh........
This went on for about 15 minutes before I finally told her we had to leave. I think I know more about her than she know about herself after that convo. She asked me about my age, where we live, where we were from, how old The Minis are, when their birthdays are, you name it she asked it. I tried to answer her in as few words as necessary. Now, I am pretty social, but I am not going to divulge tons of info to someone I just met at the playground. I think she eventually got the message because then she told me everything about herself.....and that was when I decided the Q&A session was over and we had to call it a day. Call me a buzzkill, but whatever.......
On another note, I found out recently that today is Waffle Day here in Sverige. A whole day devoted to waffles, could it get any better??? baby girl and I had to go to Maxi after we dropped The Belle off at Dagis to get our waffle iron and accessories. And we are having an old fashioned waffle party with the BIL and SIL tonight. Yet another thing about Sweden that definitely does not suck. Any holiday devoted to golden brown deliciousness is ok with me.....how about you?
I took The Minis to a nearby playground after lunch.....Spring has come to the tundra and it is glorious! There is still a little snow, but the sun is making more of an appearance, it is warm, and the ground is finally beginning to dry out. So, we are having a fab time....we have the playground to ourselves which is even better. Then here comes a teenage girl and her little sister. And the teenage girl wants to talk. Me? Not so much. Here's the Reader's Digest version of our convo:
Her: You Speak English?
Me: Um, yes.
Her: And your daughter speaks English?
Me: Um, yes.
Her: Wow. When I looked at you, I didn't think you looked like someone who spoke Swedish. Your baby is so cute.
Me: Thanks.
Her: Blah, blah, blah, blah.......so your daughter speaks English? Your baby is so cute. And you speak English? Blah, blah, blah, blahhhhhh........
This went on for about 15 minutes before I finally told her we had to leave. I think I know more about her than she know about herself after that convo. She asked me about my age, where we live, where we were from, how old The Minis are, when their birthdays are, you name it she asked it. I tried to answer her in as few words as necessary. Now, I am pretty social, but I am not going to divulge tons of info to someone I just met at the playground. I think she eventually got the message because then she told me everything about herself.....and that was when I decided the Q&A session was over and we had to call it a day. Call me a buzzkill, but whatever.......
On another note, I found out recently that today is Waffle Day here in Sverige. A whole day devoted to waffles, could it get any better??? baby girl and I had to go to Maxi after we dropped The Belle off at Dagis to get our waffle iron and accessories. And we are having an old fashioned waffle party with the BIL and SIL tonight. Yet another thing about Sweden that definitely does not suck. Any holiday devoted to golden brown deliciousness is ok with me.....how about you?
Monday, March 22, 2010
Dear Facebook Friends,
Please stop using Facebook as your own political soapbox. I know a lot of Americans do not agree with Obama's healthcare overhaul. It is not perfect, nor will it ever be. However, when I get on Facebook it is to socialize and see pictures of your kids.....not to hear about how you think Barack Obama and all Democrats are borne of the Devil. If I wanted to be a part of a political debate I would call ComHem and subscribe to C-Span. Give it a rest, please. I will be forced to hide your posts from my NewsFeed if you don't put on your Big Girl panties and deal with something the government did that you don't happen to like or agree with. k?thxbai
Love,
KT
Love,
KT
Friday, March 19, 2010
Saving the Drama for Mama
On Fridays, The Belle doesn't go to daycare. However, since last week was our transition week at Dagis this is our first official Friday off from school. I must say, I was a little nervous this morning when I got up......mornings are not The Belle's most stellar time of day. But she proved me wrong. Miss "I-Don't-Eat-Breakfast" actually ate 2 bowls of polenta (the closest thing I can get to grits.....you can't take the South out of the girl...hehe) with no bribing or cajoling on my part. That almost never happens. I was even more confident with our day when I suggested we make Easter cookies and she enthusiastically agreed. So we made the dough together and I put it in the fridge to let it chill before we rolled it out and cut the shapes. Cut to an hour later.....
Me: "Belle, come in here and let's make cookies!"
The Belle (walks in to kitchen...I have already gotten all the stuff out to cut out cookies and am pretty excited): "NOOOOOOOooooooo! *sob, sob. sob*"
Me: "Wh-wh-what's the matter?"
The Belle (sobbing): "I don't (insert gobbledygook.....some mix of English, Swedish, and Japanese)........"
Me: "Come on! It's going to be fun! Mama has turned on the oven and we can roll out the cookies and cut the shapes. Get your apron on and come here."
The Belle: "NOOOooooooooo! NOOOOOooooooo!! *sob, sob, sob*
And so on and so forth. For almost 10 minutes I tried to get her to tell me what the problem was, with no success. I finally got sick and tired of the drama and sent her to her room because I couldn't handle the sobbing. The sobbing with no known reason. So finally she dries it up and comes in.
The Belle: "I want a flower cookie"
Me: "That's fine. You can have one after I bake them. baby girl and I are making the cookies now since you wouldn't tell me what was wrong."
Insert new, louder, more intense sobs here.
Me: "Ok, Belle. I don't think you feel good. Let's take a nap instead."
Insert major temper tantrum here.
So I picked her up and deposited her on her bed, where she promptly smacked at me, which is a clear indication that #1 - she is exhausted, and #2 - she doesn't feel well. Let me say here that I am again immensely grateful for the Swedish law which prohibits me to spank my own child. When she hits and/or smacks me it sends me into orbit. But since I do not want to go to jail, I follow the laws of the country and walk away. Sometimes in a rage, but I always walk away. And always saying the serenity prayer. Or sometimes just "Serenity NOW!". But I digress.....
So she is currently napping (um, Mama was right) and I am schooling on how I am going to salvage the rest of our day. Oh, and did I mention that The International has the car today and that it is raining outside too? This is going to be a challenge......
Me: "Belle, come in here and let's make cookies!"
The Belle (walks in to kitchen...I have already gotten all the stuff out to cut out cookies and am pretty excited): "NOOOOOOOooooooo! *sob, sob. sob*"
Me: "Wh-wh-what's the matter?"
The Belle (sobbing): "I don't (insert gobbledygook.....some mix of English, Swedish, and Japanese)........"
Me: "Come on! It's going to be fun! Mama has turned on the oven and we can roll out the cookies and cut the shapes. Get your apron on and come here."
The Belle: "NOOOooooooooo! NOOOOOooooooo!! *sob, sob, sob*
And so on and so forth. For almost 10 minutes I tried to get her to tell me what the problem was, with no success. I finally got sick and tired of the drama and sent her to her room because I couldn't handle the sobbing. The sobbing with no known reason. So finally she dries it up and comes in.
The Belle: "I want a flower cookie"
Me: "That's fine. You can have one after I bake them. baby girl and I are making the cookies now since you wouldn't tell me what was wrong."
Insert new, louder, more intense sobs here.
Me: "Ok, Belle. I don't think you feel good. Let's take a nap instead."
Insert major temper tantrum here.
So I picked her up and deposited her on her bed, where she promptly smacked at me, which is a clear indication that #1 - she is exhausted, and #2 - she doesn't feel well. Let me say here that I am again immensely grateful for the Swedish law which prohibits me to spank my own child. When she hits and/or smacks me it sends me into orbit. But since I do not want to go to jail, I follow the laws of the country and walk away. Sometimes in a rage, but I always walk away. And always saying the serenity prayer. Or sometimes just "Serenity NOW!". But I digress.....
So she is currently napping (um, Mama was right) and I am schooling on how I am going to salvage the rest of our day. Oh, and did I mention that The International has the car today and that it is raining outside too? This is going to be a challenge......
Friday, March 12, 2010
More Adventures with the Elderly
So if you have read any of my posts, you have come across the tale of my adventure on the bus with the elderly man who didn't care that I don't speak Swedish. I walked away from that with the valuable lesson learned that old people just want to talk....and don't care if you speak their language. A blanket moral, you might say, but I have yet another example that proves my theory.....
Today The Belle got to spend most of the morning at daycare without me (hallelujah!). After baby girl and I enjoyed a quiet 3 hours at home, it was time to pick her back up. So off we go. As I am putting baby girl in her carseat, the tiniest Peugeot I have ever seen pulled into the parking lot. It is full, I mean FULL, of elderly men and women. I do not know how or why there were so many Q-Tips in there, but I digress. Out of the passenger side pops an elderly lady who immediately makes a beeline for me. My thoughts? "Oh shit". *sigh*
So Q-Tip #1 comes up to me and starts talking and talking and talking. And she is talking VERY fast. So, I ask her to repeat herself, because even though I don't speak Swedish, I understand quite a bit. She repeats herself, but I am still pretty clueless. I get the words "bil" (car), "här" (here), and "parkera" (park). So I look at her and tell her (in Swedish) that I speak English only. Sorry. Does that deter her? Um, no. She keeps talking and talking and talking. So I look at her and say (in English) "I am coming back"......with lots of sign language involved. She seemed to understand.....so I thought. She goes back over to the Peugeot clown car and starts talking again.....and I back out. Only to have the clown car promptly pull into our parking spot. WTF?
And let me mention that we rent our parking spot.....and also let me mention that there were probably 10 vacant spots in the parking lot that could've been used rather than ours. And also let me mention that there is a BIG SIGN that says "Visitor Parking" as you pull in. Um, it is in Swedish (BESÖK), but even I know what it says. I would think that the Q-Tips, since at least one of them had a driver's license, would be able to read. I know, that is crazy talk.....
So from now on I am going to pretend to be deaf with all elderly Swedish men and women. But I bet they will keep on talking....
Today The Belle got to spend most of the morning at daycare without me (hallelujah!). After baby girl and I enjoyed a quiet 3 hours at home, it was time to pick her back up. So off we go. As I am putting baby girl in her carseat, the tiniest Peugeot I have ever seen pulled into the parking lot. It is full, I mean FULL, of elderly men and women. I do not know how or why there were so many Q-Tips in there, but I digress. Out of the passenger side pops an elderly lady who immediately makes a beeline for me. My thoughts? "Oh shit". *sigh*
So Q-Tip #1 comes up to me and starts talking and talking and talking. And she is talking VERY fast. So, I ask her to repeat herself, because even though I don't speak Swedish, I understand quite a bit. She repeats herself, but I am still pretty clueless. I get the words "bil" (car), "här" (here), and "parkera" (park). So I look at her and tell her (in Swedish) that I speak English only. Sorry. Does that deter her? Um, no. She keeps talking and talking and talking. So I look at her and say (in English) "I am coming back"......with lots of sign language involved. She seemed to understand.....so I thought. She goes back over to the Peugeot clown car and starts talking again.....and I back out. Only to have the clown car promptly pull into our parking spot. WTF?
And let me mention that we rent our parking spot.....and also let me mention that there were probably 10 vacant spots in the parking lot that could've been used rather than ours. And also let me mention that there is a BIG SIGN that says "Visitor Parking" as you pull in. Um, it is in Swedish (BESÖK), but even I know what it says. I would think that the Q-Tips, since at least one of them had a driver's license, would be able to read. I know, that is crazy talk.....
So from now on I am going to pretend to be deaf with all elderly Swedish men and women. But I bet they will keep on talking....
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