Halloween in Sweden: Showin' em' how it's done!

I am officially a heroine in my neighbourhood of young, hip Mommies. Just call me Martha Stewart.

Hubby and I decided on a whim that we were gonna throw a Halloween party for Little Man and the neighbourhood kiddies. I'll be honest: It was epic. Now if you were to transplant our Spooky Fest into Any Town, North America, it would have been mediocre at best. In fact there wasn't anything we did that hasn't already been done before...in North America that is.

You see here in Sweden, Halloween is a relatively new phenomenon, slowly growing in popularity over just the past 10 years or so. Pumpkin carvings a la cave man days, 30% of any given neighbourhood actually participating in trick or treating and the only costumes you'll find on the kiddies are of the scary variety.  No Buzz Lightyears to be found. And how about going trick or treating and receiving a handful of loose chips or 1 piece of candy? Now that's a fright.

So when we announced to the street that we were having a Halloween party, well everyone was excited to come and discover "what exactly do you do at a Halloween party"? I spent the week collecting Halloween-inspired recipes from family, friends and the Net and just when I thought I'd have to break out the construction paper and pipe cleaners, I discovered the new Toys R Us in town had a whole entire aisle of Halloween decor...woohooo!

Hubby is the creative one in the family so before you knew it, we had a poor, stuffed dude being crushed by Little Man's ride-on tractor, a front lawn full of tombstones, a floating witches hat and other spooky bits and bobs.

See for yourself!

We almost lost a few little party animals, however. You see, it took a few of them a good 15 minutes to make it to our door they were so scared, having never seen anything like this before. And then there were the activities. Nothing too inventive about cupcake decorating, bobbing for apples or sticking your hand in peeled grapes right? Wrong. "Jennifer, where did you come up with the idea to decorate "muffins"? "This is so creative." "I just got so much inspiration." Yes, my ego expanded to the size of a hot-air balloon. But I had to fess up, "We just do these things back home."

The one comment posted on facebook that sent me shuddering in terror, "You have just set the standard for all future Halloween parties." F-word. How the hell are we gonna outdo ourselves next year?!

Happy Halloween All! Love Marta Stewartsson, Buzz Lightyear (he was in costume for a record 10 minutes) and The King of Creativity, my hubby.

Now to work off the 2 kilos gained in the span of 5 days...Thank you birthday cake and Halloween candy! Oh, I almost forgot Hubby's handcarved, no stencils involved, pumpkins:

The Social Butterflies

Went to pick up Little Man from school today but he wasn't quite ready, "Mama, I say goodbye to alla barnen (all the kids) first." So I stood outside the door while he hustled back inside, all business. He stood in front of each kid's cubby (where they wait for their parents to pick them up) to address each of them with a proper farewell, careful not leave anyone out:
"Bye Do: Yara/Gustav/Emilia/Jasmin/Halle/etc.."

Now "Goodbye" in Swedish is "Hej Do". But our Little Man flexes his bilinguality (made that word up) and says, "Bye Do".

When I drop him off at the park every morning, there's usually a fan club there to greet him, mainly consisting of females. No surprise there, especially if you know his father.

And the past two weeks, he has received handmade gifts from two female admirers. A painting of his name and a bead bracelet.

Yup, our little man is Mr. Popularity...ha!

And tomorrow we find out if we're headed to Moscow this Saturday for five days. You might remember me mentioning some great friends we met on a beach in Montenegro. There I was on said beach running around after my little 1+ year old, likely hollering something in English when a blonde approaches me to ask me something "touristy".

She's Russian and like most Russians in Montenegro, has just bought a vacation home. She has two sons, one now 3 and the other 6.

We started talking and well, we haven't stopped.

They've been asking us to come and visit for the past several years and as hubby turns the big 5-0 this year, he said of her latest invitation, "We're going. If we don't go now, we may never go." And if the Visa Gods are smiling, we'll get our passports back "approved" tomorrow and be on our merry way.

I've been very blessed to have travelled a lot these past ten years but I'm nervous as hell about this trip. Genuinely excited to spend time with dear friends and stay in the posh-est hotel in all of Moscow with a view overlooking The Kremlin but...

What do I wear? (Already spent a small fortune and still freaking out)
How do I speak? (Apparently Moscownians find Americans/Canadians speak too loudly and it's considered rude. We're loud talkers!)
How do I eat? (Fork in the left, knife in the right)
What do I wear? (Still freaking out about this)
What do I give? (Remember: Never yellow flowers and always in odd numbers)
How do I behave?(Moscownians will think you're crazy if you smile too much. We're a smiling people!)
How do I repay such kindness? These dear friends have already pulled out all the stops and we haven't even arrived yet!

Yup, I have a case of the social butterflies!

From Famous to FU

I miss being famous. Not the autograph, sex tape, Oprah Winfrey, serial killer kind of famous. But the notoriety that came from being one of the first North American immigrant families in a small seaside town called Herceg Novi in Montenegro. I think we were numbers 6,7 and 8 for Canadians in the entire country.

When we landed, the fame was instant. Though I didn't quite realize it at the time largely due to the fact that I couldn't speak or understand the language and thus, failed to notice the grumblings in the community.

But when, after 4 months or so in the country, we magically hooked up with another family of quasi-Canadian immigrants (fled for Canada during the Balkan Wars and returned) who became the dearest of friends, I found out just how much we were the talk of the town.

Here's the story: While I was back home in Canada recovering with my newborn, hubby and his son flew back early to set up our new apartment. Hubby was bent on having a jacuzzi tub. There was nowhere to put it so he opted for our bedroom. Having it installed was a nightmare as at this point the Russian invasion hadn't hit with its full magnitude (meaning wealth) and noone in the town seemed to know how to install the bloody thing.

Our new friends eventually told us that word on the street was we had a hot tub smack dab in our living room. What?! The first evening we invited them over for drinks, they were anxious and excited to see this living room spa we apparently had going on. They also spilled some additional gossip. We were rich, very rich, evidenced by the fact that we had a nanny for our son. Ok, by Montenegrin standards, I guess you could say we were well-off.

We were a mystery. Noone could understand why sane people would leave the comforts of the Western world for the rough of a country picking itself up after a decade-long war. One of the most exquisitely beautiful countries in the world.

But the people embraced us. They took us under their wing. From boutique and local produce market workers to artists and lawyers and other prominent citizens, not to mention fellow expats from other countries, primarily the UK. They were helpful and kind and generous. They invited us over to their tiny apartments for lavish meals. They treated us like family. They included us in the most sacred family celebrations. We were humbled and grateful and honoured by each and every gesture, no matter how small.

They knew our son. They watched him grow. They loved him as one of their own.

And now we're here, in Sweden. Just a few more immigrants, another set of numbers. With the obvious exception of our dearest friends, we're alone. No friendly waves, smiles and jokes. No candy for my boy. No dinner or coffee invitations. Noone noticing if I've gained or lost weight. Noone overcharging us because they think we're rich.

Just a few more immigrants is all. Nothing to see here.