Chocolate Monster

So it's Saturday here in Sweden and that means it's National Eat Candy Day. Seriously folks, Saturdays are all about candy in this country. So I give in, as I always do, and treat the little guy to a bag of "goodis". What a mistake. The child reacts to chocolate with an insane amount of hyperactivity. I thought it was a myth. I'm here to tell you it ain't.

He LURVES chocolate. And I LOVES giving it to him. But not today. Not tonight and until next Saturday, never again.

Modern Day Manners

Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter which fork you use. ~Emily Post

We are soon headed back home to Canada to sleep on my sister-in-law's couch and join a household comprising two dogs, a teen, parents, a grandma and now, an aunt. It's crazy but we're really looking forward to it!

Even when staying with family, we never take for granted that we are in fact interrupting their lives and their home with our jolly presence. We always:
1. Bring gifts
2. Pay for groceries and booze
3. Keep the den we take over for 3 weeks as clean and tidy as possible.
4. Help with the housework
5. Fill up the car we borrow with gas
6. Treat them to a meal "out"
7. Leave money for long-distance phone calls or other expenses incurred during our stay.

Does this cost us money? Of course it does but imagine the costs if we were to stay at a hotel for that long a period of time. And even though we try to pitch in more than our share, it costs them as well. It costs them in water, electricity, gas, car wear and tear, inconvenience, time, toilet paper, and the list goes on...

Maybe you say, "Family is family. You shouldn't keep a running tab." But it's not about who pays for what at the end of the day. It's about respect. Respect for each of them and self-respect. When you notice your guests are not reciprocating, it makes everyone feel bad. And we're all supposed to be having a good time together as a family.

In my humble and well-mannered opinion and based on some recent research into the subject, I have come to the conclusion that these are the minimum obligations of a guest:
1. ALWAYS bring a host/hostess gift. Bottle of wine, flowers, chocolate, etc. Does it have to be expensive? Absolutely NOT. It's the thought that counts.
2. ALWAYS offer to help around the house, with dinner, etc.
3. ALWAYS offer to pay for gas if your host/hostess is shuttling you around.
4. Depending on your length of stay, ALWAYS offer to take your host/hostess out to a meal/for coffee to show your appreciation. If you can't afford it, you shouldn't be staying to begin with.
5. ALWAYS send a thank-you. It could very well be a thank-you email. But a personal note that expresses your appreciation is what's needed, no matter the form.
6. ALWAYS keep your living quarters tidy and clean.
7. Depending on your length of stay, ALWAYS offer to pay for groceries or just go out and buy some if you see your hosts are running low.

And before you ask, "No, the pleasure of your company is NOT gift enough."

This is a very sensitive and sore subject for me because hubby and I are usually on the receiving end of company. As many times as I can recall feeling awful due to ill-mannered guests, I choose right now to focus on the positive and name some guests who truly left an impression on me:
1. A friend would stop by on warm summer days to sit by our pool, a box of freshly-baked canollis in hand.
2. A different friend would stop under the same circumstances and bring booze and sushi for everyone.
3. My dear 21-year old cousin, a student on a tight budget backpacking through Europe, showed up with chocolates for us and a bottle of wine as a gift for my birthday. I almost cried.
4. My maid-of-honour who never forgets a hostess gift or misses a chance to help out.
5. A friend who brings beautiful flowers everytime she comes for dinner.
6. A mother-in-law on a fixed income who pitches in generously and spoils our children incesssantly.
7. So many friends and acquaintances back home in Montenegro who would turn down an invitation if they could not afford to buy a host/ess gift. These are people who have so little money compared to us "rich" North Americans.

To be frank, it took me a few years to understand etiquette and its impact. I was not raised in a barn but I started living the life of a "Woman" at a young age. I was entertaining and being entertained by "important" people at the age of 20. I was naive and ignorant in those times (not that it's all bad mind you as you're sorta suppose to be naive and ignorant at 20..ha!) But I did learn quickly after some major stumbles.

I'd like to point out that I realize etiquette rules can vary from culture to culture. Apparently farting after a meal in Asia is considered a compliment to the host...bahahahahaha. I think the universal truth is this: Be thoughtful and be respectful and if you are entering a culture different from your own, do yourself and your hosts a favour and please take a few moments to read up on local etiquette.

Right Now

Right now, I would trade...
1. Our day at the Dinosaur exhibit, to watch my toddler frolick on the beach a mere 10-minute stroll from our home
2. Real bacon for a plate of cevap (Yugoslav sausage...yum).
3. Frequent car trips through big box store parks for a stroll around a charming, war-stained old town
4. This damp, rainy, persistently gray city for the rainy season and torrential downpours in a small seaside town
5. My brewed 100% Columbian for a cup of cooked Serbian sludge at friend Connie's
6. An overpriced cocktail for a shot of homemade rekija
7. A perfectly ripened cucumber for a tomato that tastes like...a tomato
8. My 2-story house for my old mould-infested apartment
9. My son's Montessori school for an afternoon with his Nanny.
10. The reserved faces of blonde stone that surround me for the tall dark-haired beauty at the local grocer who greets my family by name.
11. Online banking for paper bills and almost no bills at all!
12. Movie theaters with popcorn for badly-copied DVDs for 2 euro and all the time in the world to watch them
13. "Normal pizza" for soggy-crusted wanna-be pizza smothered in ketchup
14. McDonalds, Thai, sushi and the choice of every ethnic or not-so-ethnic cuisine under the sun for a multi-course, homemade, slaved-over-for-days feast prepared lovingly by dear friends in a small cozy apartment.
Right now, I would trade Sweden for Montenegro in a heart beat....Though tomorrow, I could very well change my mind.

The Father #2

It's been such a pleasure to observe my husband becoming a Father to a son all over again. His first born is 23 years old now and the bond between them is strong.

When #2 was born, it took awhile. As the Mommy, and with a Nanny, my poor Hubby never had a hope in hell. "Here, I'll do it." "I'll get up." "I'm taking him for a walk." I shut him out almost completely. He never rocked him to sleep, rarely changed a diaper and with the exception of showing him YouTube videos on the computer, I rationalized that it was "easier/faster/more efficient" for me to do it all (or the Nanny). I didn't "have the time" or more truthfully, want, to delegate any responsibility for baby care to Dad. And the thought of them going anywhere alone and the associated anxiety (what if he starts to cry? what if he poos? what if he starts to cry?) was enough for me to silence any thoughts of either a) giving myself a break or b) allowing for some bonding.

So I did almost all of it. With Dada as my wingman, on occasion. Not that he didn't love the little rascal. Not that he wasn't there capturing moments with his camera to share with our far-away family every chance he got. But in those first months, I had built up some resentment. Why doesn't he ask to take him on an outing? Why doesn't he want to spend some quality time with our son? Doesn't he love him? Looking back, I realize it was me. It was my fault. I pushed him away.

But my continued persistence at doing it all with our son did little to discourage either of them from bonding...thankfully. It started off simple enough. The little man grew too big to be bathed in the baby bath and Dad offered to bathe with him. It became a nightly ritual that still continues to this day. Every night, Dad and the Man splash around in the tub. It's their time. Together. Alone. And then I added swimming lessons to the mix. Sort of by accident because I had no time to shop for a bathing suit. And now, every Thursday tub time extends to pool time.

I honestly don't know which one of them is more excited for our weekly trip to the local watering hole. I have never seen either of them grin so much. And as the only other parent who sits poolside to observe the fun, my face is seriously sore by the time lessons are over.

"Did you see him dunk his face in the water? His back float is getting better because I hum in his ear when his ears are in the water and he likes the sound. That second time, he jumped right in. He has no fear!" All excited comments from hubby and all music to my ears.

And yesterday we dragged Dad out grocery shopping. A rather mundane chore for me and the little guy. But this morning, after lunch, over 24 hours later, "Did you hear him scream out, 'Look Dada, Lemons!'?" Yes honey, I did.

Our little tyke has had the same very early morning ritual for the past 6 months. Every day at around 5am, I can expect to see his sleepy face at my bedside. Most mornings I don't remember pulling him into bed with us. But every morning, we find him tangled up in our sheets and babbling a morning greeting. Our little rooster. Well one morning, my husband woke to find his body missing from our bed and was in full panic mode. "Where is HE?!" I rushed out of the room only to find our baby fast asleep in his own bed (due to a late night the night before).

I think, depending on what kind of marriage/family you have, the bonding between father and child comes a little later on in the game. When baby is no longer breastfeeding every 2 hours and does more than discover his toes, crack a smile or accept a spoonful or pureed whatever (though the latter is always exciting for everyone). When that baby develops a personality and becomes a little person, Dad enters the picture in a much larger way. At least this is the case for our family.

And from the way my son insists on giving sleeping Dada a kiss before we leave for school, asks for him the instant I pick him up, crawls all over him looking for some wrestling and genuinely enjoys every second they spend together...I wouldn't have it any other way.

What about your family Moms? When did you let Dad join in the fun?

Moving Sucks

For so many reasons really. I mean there's the usual crap associated with any move.
1. Boxes: finding them, begging for them, buying them, never having enough
2. Thinking you really don't have all that much and it shouldn't take all that long. Then discovering you have triple what you thought you had and it takes you twice as long as you thought it would.
3. Shaking your head at the junk you accumulate in such a short period of time. I mean, who needs 3 balls of string? How many more shish kabob sticks are there in this drawer? I should have gotten rid of A, B and C years ago. How did this useless gadget make it through the last move?
4. Realizing at the last minute that things would have been sooo much easier had you decluttered PRIOR to the actual packing.
5. Finding a new place to live. That part is sucking hard right now.

In the past three years we've moved to two different countries, neither of which is an English-speaking country. So on top of all the general boxing up our lives crap, we have all these cultural adjustments to make. In Montenegro, it took me weeks to figure out exactly where and how to pay my bills (at the post office, through a very mean old lady who refused to even attempt to communicate with me). In Sweden, it's back to online banking, all in Swedish, and with the added security of this little doohickey that you have to type codes into in order to access codes to input into the computer in order to login, pay and confirm bills. It sucks.

But eventually, we get the hang of it and it's never as big a deal as it is the first few weeks.

The suckiest part about yet ANOTHER move (same country, same city this time at least), is having to explain away another upheaval in our three year old's life. In less than a year, he has lost his nanny and the 2nd language he was learning, moved, started daycare, had to go to a new daycare in the summer and started a new daycare in the fall. Just when he's finally seemingly adjusted and blossoming (turning into quite the little Swede), here we go again...

But our little man is a real trooper I tell ya. My hope is that all of these life-shaping experiences in his youngest years are building up his little character so change is never a frightening thing. As you can probably tell, it is for his Mommy.

You know you've become a Bigger girl when...

I wrote this for my BFF. We're dieting together to lose those stubborn last 10lbs. Maybe some of you can relate :-). Our definition of a Bigger Girl: One who has to lose about 10lbs..ha! Caution: This is all in good fun.

You Know You've Become a "Bigger Girl" when...

1. You have gone the longest you ever have gone before washing a pair of of jeans. Because you just know when they're clean, you will need to exert every muscle in your body to pull them on. But hey, that's good exercise!

2. You read every single Nutritional Values label on every thing you're about to consume. You're either checking for fat, carbs or both. Then you promise yourself you'll only have 1. But you have 3 and live with the guilt.

3. You dread opening your closet in the morning because you just know your skinny jeans will be staring back at you. And every morning, you vow that in X weeks, months, you will fit into those skinny jeans again, even when they're clean.

4. You suddenly hate shopping for clothes. But you're down to like 2 pairs of fat jeans (that are almost turning into skinny jeans) and your co-workers are remarking, "You know Jane, I just love those jeans everytime you wear them."

5. On said shopping trip, you rationalize that you will indeed buy a pair of jeans that fit. You can always give them away after you lose the weight, you say to yourself. You walk out of the store with the trendiest $100 pair of jeans...in your old size. You vow to fit into them in X weeks, months and will brave the muffin top until such time.

6. The phrase, "Give me 5 minutes, I'm just gonna throw on a pair of jeans" becomes, "I'll meet you in the car".

7. "Who the fk stole all my clothes?" Noone stole your clothes bitch. You just can't find anything that fits.

8. You become a magician in the art of sitting at staff meetings. Legs crossed to minimize thigh spread, check. Back straight to camouflage back fat, check. Notebook placed strategically to mask belly flab, check. Elbows out to reduce appearance of Oprah arms, check.

9. Your date night with your partner is over before it starts. Instead of sipping fruity drinks in the latest hotspot, you're slumped over defeated in a pile of clothes crying that either a) nothing fits or b) I have nothing to wear.

10. You promise yourself that you will not stray from whatever fad diet it is you're on at the party. That's right. You are there to satisfy your craving for intellectually-stimulating conversation, not the gooey goodness of the nacho dip. You manage to avoid the snack table for the longest time by pounding back the liquor. Now you're drunk and double dipping.

11. Your shopping buddy now says, "That looks great on you...you should buy 3 in different colours", instead of, "You look awesome. Let's check out the spandex".

12. You wonder why your Mom hasn't stopped by with her homemade fudge in the past two weeks. Your question is answered at Sunday Family Dinner when, as you absent-mindedly reach for seconds, your Mom sweetly inquires, "You're really not that hungry are you dear?"

13. You dread running into people you haven't seen in X weeks/months. "Jane! (furtive up and down glance) You look great!" Seriously, who the fk says that? You know what they really mean, "Jane! You used to be so thin and I used to be so jealous. But look who's having the last laugh now fat ass?"

14. You miss the wild sex. Sex with the lights on or even dimmed. Sex in every kama sutra position imaginable. Sauntering around the house in all your nude glory. Now you might as well be living in the Victorian Era, laying fully clothed and covered with a sheet that has a hole in it.

15. You used to think of sex as a great form of exercise. Now sex has become an exercise in ensuring your partner doesn't mistakenly grab a love handle, feel your round belly or catch a glimpse of your cellulite.

16. You constantly come up with clever and inspired excuses to eat that chocolate bar/buttered popcorn/bag of chips/litre of ice cream, Big Mac, Halloween candy. "My boss was mean today, It's my/my sister's/my best friend who lives halfway around the world's birthday today, I hate stubbing my toe, My dog shat on the carpet, My partner was late for dinner, Watching a movie without chips is a sin, I can eat this because tomorrow I will do 20 sit-ups."

17. Every time you consume a forbidden food, or way too much of a good food, you say with conviction, "I'll start my diet tomorrow. That's it. Tomorrow I'm getting serious!"

18. You and your best friend, also a Bigger Girl, make a solemn oath to lose X pounds by X date. You take before and after photos, you record your lost/gained pounds, you disclose when you cheated, you even send each other supportive emails with tips. You think a little healthy competition will get you both healthy again. So far, you've stayed the same and your friend gained back the 4 pounds she lost. But you promise yourselves you will SUCCEED.

18. Your Dad remarks loudly and with great surprise, like he just made some earth-shattering scientific discovery, "Geez Girl, you're gettin' BIG!!!"

It's been awhile

Dang it...I can't believe I haven't blogged in 2 whole weeks. Well, I had an excuse...a guest for 10 or so days, then hubby got ill (worse than a child a man is when he's sick I tell ya), Halloween and general life issues.

Now I'm back and for the life of me, have no idea what to rant about. Actually, I have a really hot topic boiling just beneath my fingers right now. But because it's about a particular person and this person would likely know it if she read it and it wouldn't be a flattering portrayal of her and I can't remember if she has my blog address or not, I have to let my fingers blister..for awhile anyway. And when I feel it's safe...a hot mess of lava will flow, I'll tell ya that readers (all 6 of you? ha!).

But that's when I blog...when there's some pent up passion that needs release. It could be a mundane topic, oh like that post on the kitchen utensil that picks up peelings, or a tribute to motherhood. The passion could happen 3x/week or twice a day. I never really know until I'm wandering down the street and it hits.

Just a sec..gotta run up a coffee to the Mr. Ok, I'm back. Not that you noticed I was gone. But I did. And I wanted to be polite and excuse myself.

Because I have no grand theme for today's one-sided discussion, ere's a recap of events of late:
1. We're moving...again. Landlord has decided to sell and we have to be out mid-January. Anyone know of a decently-priced 3-bedroom for rent in Uppsala? Prices have gone up twice what they were this time last year, which sucks.
2. We're going home for Christmas. Home being to Ontario to spend the holidays with hubby's fam. My folks will fly to Ottawa to meet us for a few days with some extended fam there. I'm thrilled!
3. My not-so-little-anymore cousin came to visit for 2.5 days. Currently studying in France, she decided to travel a little during her school break. This 20-year old student not only was thoughtful enough to bring us a hospitality gift but even got me a birthday present. I was touched because a) she's family b) she's young enough to have no manners or concept of hospitality and c) the poor thing is a starving student for crying out loud (starving in the eats-pasta-everyday-cuz-it's-cheap sense) It was great getting to know her over shots of Limoncello and rum..urghhh...
4. My birthday was on the 28th! Happy Birthday to ME! Went out with an old friend from here and her cousin, who also happens to be my Swedish teacher. Kinda sad that I've been here for over a year and have no new friends :-(. But that's Sweden for ya! And I was as happy as a clam to get out alone for the first time in God knows when with some dear friends.
5. Halloween in Sweden. They're really just starting to celebrate it here. We had a total of 16 kids come a knockin' and we dressed the little guy up as an elephant so hubby took him around, "Tick or Tweet". A testament to how safe these Swedes feel: Imagine opening up your bag of candy to find ONLY unwrapped loose candies? My Dad, self-appointed candy checker in our household, would've thrown it all out. We did too actually but that's only cuz we had so much darn candy leftover ourselves. Speaking of which, I got rid of the temptation by dropping it off to old friend's daughters today..phewf.
Well I think that's it for now. I know, kinda "meh" today. Hope there aren't prospective readers stopping by right now. If there are, please don't judge me on this pathetic excuse for a post. I'm a better blogger than this, honest!