Well up yours too Swedish chick

There's this mother at my son's school that I feel really dislikes me. I have no clue why this pierced, tatted, short and slightly stocky grunge queen has it in for me, but I'm convinced she does.

I must've made the mistake of saying something untoward, ignorning her in general parental conversation while waiting outside for the kiddies one day or perhaps she's not a big fan of my bubbly, English-talking "American-ness" (even though I'm Canadian). Like maybe I put her off with my appearance:

Showing up to drop/off pick up my son sporting:
- sweat pants & sometimes matching sweat top
- ratty sneakers
- un-did hair, could be on the greasy side
- badly coloured hair (though this has since changed thanks to a trip to Canada)
But hey, I usually always have a smile. Didn't Annie sing that "you're never fully dressed without a smile!"?

Once I noticed this woman's demeanor of complete dismissal and disinterest, I've made it my pseudo-mission to engage her. You know, by smiling directly AT her, trying to engage her in conversations, etc. FAIL. She paints her face with one of those grins that says, "I'm only half trying to put a smile on my face out of politeness and I realize I'm doing a half-ass job but i don't give a flying F, because well, I just don't like you."

And today, as we passed each other, I tried to hold her gaze and I forced the biggest, friendliest, American-type smile I could muster (complete with yesterday's mascara running down my eyelashes). Ok, so she obviously saw me coming a mile away. Me and my new bright red, but very Swedish, winter jacket. Me with equally bright FUSHIA jogging pants on. Yup, major colour clash. Me with these awesome rubber-type, hard-core winter boots I picked up in Canada (that i have to walk funny in because they give me blisters). I am the ANTI her. But I thought opposites attracted?

Anyway...She just stared at me with this, "I really don't give a hoot about you or that you're trying to befriend me. I don't like you. And on top of that, I'm Swedish and we Swedes are not required to engage in polite conversation or even smile if we choose not to."

Yup. Score: -2 for Team Fushia, +1Million for G.I. Jane

I am the type of person that cares what people think and hates the thought of someone potentially not liking me. Though I do realize that there are people out there who don't. You either fall into two camps with me: 1. That Jenn, she is so friendly and funny and chatty and loveable or 2. That Jenn, she drives me insane with her fake, over-the-top personality. What an obnoxious BIT#%. At least that's what I believe.

Can I do a conversion, from Camp #2 to Camp #1? Let the X Games begin (well because she would definitely be a fan of the X-Games. The Olympics are too mainstream for her)...

New Year and News

Now that I'm back and away from the hustle and bustle, joy and pain of our 3-week holiday "home" in Canada, I thought I'd get back into the swing of bloggyland with an Update Post. Some short (for me) words on what's been going on:

The Holiday: In a word: emotional. It was such a wonderful time seeing hubby's son, our parents and extended family. It was just what we all needed, some three-on-everyone time. Truly made us appreciate how important family and friends are. Our little man truly relished every moment, no matter how different, loud, crazy and unscheduled things were. He truly rolls with the punches this kid. He's an amazing little traveller and as I always say, "The best part of every trip". From sitting on Santa's knee to reading to my sis-in-law's two dogs to running around with his cousin Luke to snowshoeing, skating, sledding and helping Nana with the laundry, he soaked it all up. It really was all about the kids and it was great.

Forgiveness: I'm sure you remember my post from a month back about the friend I apologized to after 10+ years? Well she did write me back folks and apart from being absolutely shocked and confused about what motivated me to apologize after so many years, she was her usual, kindhearted self and accepted my apology. Her reply was candid, honest and rather generous. I don't know that we'll continue our friendship but I do know that I'm glad I reached out and did the right thing.

Itchy Hives: No sooner had we spent the first night in my Aunt's gorgeous but extremely dry home in Northern Ontario, than I broke out in a mad case of what I think are hives. Now I do have a history of mild ezcema, but this outbreak took the cake. Almost like "bites" but not quite. I'm still taking benadryl but it's not as bad as it was, where it was keeping me up at night. Apart from the very dry air or perhaps the stress of having my Mom around, I haven't the foggiest where they came from. I think a trip to the doc is in order.

Shopping: Couldn't believe the prices of everything as compared to the prices of everything here. Couldn't resist overspending and overpacking a bit and feeling rather guilty that I didn't do more. Just no time. Can't believe I forgot the essentials: Kraft Peanut Butter and Old Tyme Maple Syrup.

Jet Lag: It's amazing. We adjust in NO TIME when we land but coming back is altogether opposite. Little man only slept for 2 hours on the 12-hour trip back and after getting him to bed around 7pm local time, he was up between 12 and 2:30am and slept in until 11:30am Saturday morning! Same thing again last night! I'm still kicking myself for not setting the alarm this morning and am wondering how I'm gonna manage to get him up for school at 7am if he pulls the "I'm wide awake and ready to party" again tonight.

Homeless: We are STILL looking for a place to live for the end of February and time is running out. After months of searching, I finally found a great place but the posting went up on Friday, I responded Saturday and still haven't heard back. Getting pretty stressed about this. Demand seems far greater than supply.

Well that's about all for now. Will likely come back in a few days to expand on one or more of the above topics.

Happy New Year Everyone! SJ

On our way "home" or "back"?

Well it's been a hectic, fun-filled time with family and friends back "home" in Ontario, Canada. More on that later.

But now I'm sitting in my sister-in-law's dining room, severly overweight bags packed and proudly sporting an extra 10 lbs of holiday goodness. Counting down the hours until the waterworks begin and we head down to the airport for our very long journey "home". Not sure where "home" is anymore but it sure doesn't feel like Sweden, especially after being "home" for 3 weeks..sigh.

I haven't blogged, I haven't surfed and I've barely facebooked for 3 weeks. Instead, I had meaningful conversation and loads of laughter and nasty amounts of forbidden food with most of the people that mean the most to us in this world. And it felt good. It felt real good. By this time, I'd usually be eager to hop on the plane and get home to the comfort of our space and our stuff. But this time, even after sleeping on couches and too-small beds with little privacy, I don't want to leave.

I think it's soon time for another big change in our lives. But we'll see. We'll roll with it and we'll fly.

Happy New Year to All of You!

Over and out and Merry Christmas!

Well our blessed little trio is headed home for the holidays starting tomorrow. Overworked hubby really needs a break so I'm super glad we opted to stay in a cottage instead of with the family, at least for the first 10 days of our trip.

It was difficult breaking the news to eager family at first but now they seem more excited than we are and will make sure everything's all set up before we arrive.

Hubby is a little perturbed still, wondering why we couldn't take the money and relax somewhere on a beach in the sun, sipping fruity drinks and watching our son frolick in the sand. Much like our dear friends here are doing.

Unfortunately, our dear friends have their family here. We, on the other hand, are overseas and taking precious vacation without visiting family is well, a sin. ha! I did promise him (again) that the next time, we'd take some time for ourselves. But I can't imagine Christmas without our extended family around. And I am also trying to convince myself that hubby would have been longing for family on the 25th in the middle of downing Mai Tai's.

So bags are almost packed and we'll be flying the (hopefully) friendly skies back home to those we love and cherish starting tomorrow. I'm hoping I packed enough toys and stuffs to keep the 3-year old relatively occupied on the 12-hour journey. Who am I kidding? I overpacked as usual.

Feeling bad for those who booked their trips through British Airways this holiday season though.

Wish us luck, safe travels, health, happiness and all that. And I wish you all the same and a very Merry Christmas/Holiday Season. Jenn xoxo

Forgiveness

Today I did something I've been wanting to do for 11 years but never had the courage, maturity or strength to do before now.

I apologized to an old friend.

This friend was an angel to me 11 years ago but I deceived her. I lied to her. The latter part of our friendship was in fact, shrouded in deceit. It ended with a phone call. She had found me out. And in that moment, I continued to lie to her. Her anger and tears were asphyxiating. Then, I just wanted her, and her very real accusations to go away.

Today I found her blog. Sure, over the years I would Google her every now and then to see if I could find out how she was doing. And today, I Googled her again. I found out that she's still the same beautiful and selfless person I remember her to be. I struggled. I composed an email. I struggled some more and then, I pressed "Send".

I have no idea how she will react or if she will ever write back. But today I needed to say I was sorry. I am asking for her forgiveness.

I have few regrets in life but what happened with her, or should I say, what I did to her, is one of them.

So now, I wait impatiently for a reply. But perhaps I will wait patiently. She has no reason to give me the time of day. But I have every reason to finally, after 11 years, apologize to her without expecting anything in return.

Confessions: Bad Mother Moments

Oy...this post will be hard to write.

This morning marked my son's first Christmas concert at his school, the Santa Lucia celebration or "Julfest".

In Sweden, today marks the celebration of Santa Lucia, some Italian Saint. The kids dress up in traditional Swedish garb: white floor length tunics or Santa Claus costumes ("Tomten" in Sweden). Many of the girls (and some boys too) wear garlands around their heads with four lit candles, marking the four weeks of advent. Modern days have battery-powered candles so little heads don't catch fire. The children sing traditional Swedish Christmas songs while proud parents look on in a candlelit room. Swedish Christmas buns and gingerbread are served following the concert.

There was one not-so-proud parent in the audience today and likely an obvious one. That embarassed, angry and defeated parent was me. And I am admitting it. Perhaps the first step towards change and healing?

You see the last little concert put on by the school involved a breakdown on the part of my little guy. The parents assembled in the classroom while the kids waited outside in the hallway to make their grand entrance. When they finally entered, he was a puddle of tears and quickly ran over to his Mom and Dad for comfort. Eventually he did join them in singing. Well I deduced that our son couldn't understand why his parents were at his school while he was forced to wait to join them. He didn't quite get it.

I had convinced myself that this concert would be different. I have been prepping him for the eventuality of the separation for over a week. "Mummy and Daddy will come to school with you and you will wait with the kids in the hall while Mummy and Daddy wait for you in the classroom." Cripes, I even practiced the Swedish words for this speech. We talked about him dressing up as Santa, how he would sing loudly with the other kids and how Daddy would take pictures. I took him through the day's events with great care, all in hopes of avoiding this meltdown. I thought it was fool-proof. I was the fool.

We got there on time (a miracle really, considering my husband's chronic tardiness). I made a show (again) of explaining where the two of us were going and we would see him soon. While we waited (me impatiently), I even peeked outside to make sure a puddle of tears hadn't begun to form. And then I sat and waited some more.

The piano started and the children began to file in while singing the Santa Lucia song. And when I didn't see our son in the place he should have been, I knew where he would be: At the back of the pack, holding on to the teacher's hand and much to my dissapointment, in tears.

The only child in such a state.

He came over sobbing and I hugged him. He sat on my lap.

I stewed. My face turned to stone and the anger was palpable. I am certain the other parents and teachers in the room could sense it. I worked so hard to prepare him. How could this happen? His father and I are outgoing. What's wrong with our son?
Even after several attempts to push him into the circle with the other children, I was left wanting. Wanting for him to be the child who sang the loudest, screamed with glee, made the cutest little gestures, the center of attention. Instead I endured over six songs with a silent, shaken child...and I stewed. When he tried to get me to look at the classroom Christmas tree, I ignored him, telling him I was listening to the other children sing.

His father sensed my frustration and quickly motioned for our son to join him.

Our families back home are waiting anxiously for photos and video that will never come. I will have to tell my mother our son didn't perform. And there you have it, encapsulated in that last line: my mother.

I love my mother. But as a child growing up, I did whatever I could to gain her acceptance and love. I was the loudest, the brightest, the most animated, the teacher's pet. That's what I had to do. And if I failed to please her in one of these ways, the consequences were her disapproval, anger, resentment and bitterness.

And today, during that Christmas concert, I became my mother.

I cried all the way home while my husband told me what I needed to hear, the harsh truth: "You just want him to be the best. You are competitive. You want photographic/videographic evidence to prove to everyone what a great son he is and by consequence, what a great mother you are. It has to stop now. We don't know why he didn't want to participate. Maybe he has stage fright. You can't force him. He is not a performing monkey."

The remainder of the event, post sing-a-long, showed my son engaged with his friends, enjoying and participating in play. I just want him to belong, I keep telling myself.

But even that isn't good enough/wasn't good enough for me. I needed him to be the best. To be what I expected him to be. To live up to my standards. To be the "perfect child". He's only 3. What am I doing? What have I done?
I'm praying my husband's words were the intervention I needed. I need to break the chain here and perhaps by being aware and confessing my failure today as a mother, I might be headed in the right direction.

But please pray for me. I do not want my son to grow up constantly longing and searching for his mother's approval and love. I do not want to make him feel like a failure. I want him to know his mother loves him unconditionally and that she will not judge him, but accept and encourage his individuality.

Help. Mon, if you're reading this, I'm asking you especially.

Giddy with Christmas Spirit

T-minus 1 week until we hit the (hopefully) friendly skies from Stockholm to Toronto. I can't wait...
- To see FAMILY
- For Joe to see FAMILY again
- For FAMILY to see Joe again
- To settle into our own home away from home. That's right folks. We were brazilliant this year and opted (much to the chagrin of family) to dig our heels firmly into the ground and rent our own cottage over the holidays, merely a 3-minute drive from the main family. Hooray!
- To resurrect our Annual Christmas Party
- To put Joe on Santa's knee
- For Santa!!!


I CAN wait...
- For the chaos that always ensues, regardless of where we're staying
- The dreaded flights with a little guy
- For jetlag
- For overeating and over consumption of alcohol
- For hubby to look into our wallet and say, "Where did all the money go?!"

Sing with me: I'll be home for Christmas....