A wrong call and the next 10 minutes

"Hej, det är Lisa..."

I'm sure that is not the proper way to answer my phone in Swedish, but that is my American-English-translated-into-Swedish greeting and it has become automatic—proper or not.

"Umm, hallå. Det är ________ och jag har jobba i Tumba....<<undecipherable Swedish mumbling>>... (long awkward PAUSE)"

My mind is racing and all of these thoughts ping through my brain like the small white ball in a pinball machine. Ding ding ding.

He must be waiting for my response. Oh shit, I didn't catch his name or who he works with. Where is Tumba? Isn't that south of Stockholm? Why is someone from Tumba calling me? This has nothing to do with the kids because I would recognize their doctor's name. No...this may be someone calling for our house? I don't know. Someone always seems to be calling about our house, asking for money. Does this guy want money?! We don't have any. Should I hang up now? The pinball machine ball stops pinging around for a second.

"Förlåt, jag kan prata lite svenska, kan vi prata med engelska nu?" This should nip it in the bud. He'll switch to English once he learns I can't speak any Swedish...

...he continues in rapid-fire Swedish

"<<more Swedish words I don't recognize>> kompaniet....bolaget...(long pause)"

Is it my turn to speak again? Jeez! I have no idea what this guy is talking about. I'm registered as a sole-trader so maybe he has a business question? I don't know how bolaget has anything to do with this conversation. Gah, I wish I understood more Swedish. Normally they switch over into English by now but this guy won't quit.

"Förlåt, jag förstår inte." I'm sorry, I don't understand.

"Uhhh, hejdå..." Umm, goodbye.

The call ends and the hang-up is weird. I wasn't sure what had happened. Did he really need to talk to me and just gave up because I couldn't understand his Swedish? Ahh, screw it. This chick can't figure it out. Let's give the post-card lottery to another lucky winner. Or was it a misdial? I needed to figure this out. I CAN do this. I will!

With a flash of renewed enthusiasm and perhaps too much desire to right this wrong, I open up Google Translate and type in all of the words I think I heard during our very weird interaction. I reverse Google his phone number—yes, he has a business of two people in Tumba, doing what I'm not sure. The business name is generic and uninformative. No clues there. Moving on.

I type the equivalent of, "So sorry, my Swedish is horrible. You called me before and now I am prepared to answer your questions." into Google Translate. With my fingers poised over the empty Google Translate box, they are ready to translate our conversation as it happens. My fingers will attempt to transcribe the conversation so that I can keep up with it real-time. I am NOT an idiot. Technology will save the day!

As I press redial, I'm already smug. I was caught off-guard before but now I'm set. I have a tool at my fingertips and I practiced my little apologetic phrase twice. I even improved on the inflections provided by the Google Translate robotic voice. Easy peasy.

"Hej, jag är Lisa Ferland. Du ringde mig? Jag förståd inte innan men hur kan jag hjalpa dig nu?"

"Oy, nej. Det är okej. Jag ringde fel."  --- Oh no. It's okay. I called the wrong phone number.

And that, my friends, is how someone wastes 10 minutes trying to decipher all of the communication during a simple "Oops! Wrong number!" phone conversation.

By the Baltic—an Insider's Tour of Åkersberga, Sweden

Upon first glance, Åkersberga (pronounced like "oakers-bear-ya") is a rather unremarkable—some may even say ugly (wasn't me!)—suburb of Stockholm, Sweden. But if you spend some time here, like an onion, Åkersberga reveals its beautiful layers to you over time. We have lived in Åkersberga for 2+ years and continue to discover new hidden treasures.

Åkersberga is a 48-minute tram ride away from central Stockholm. The tram ride is scenic with wooded forests flanking the tram line, a few scenic lakes, and quick stops every two minutes at various quaint suburbs. There is even a prison along the tram line (the tram doesn't stop there, though), which would normally be considered an eyesore, but instead, it has a beautiful view of a lake. How rehabilitating it must be to have nature at your doorstep even though you are serving time in jail.

The Beach

Osterakers havsbad in summer—go windsurfing!

The tram will take you all the way to the Baltic Sea if you don't hop off at the specific Åkersberga stop. Our favorite beach, Österskärs havsbad, is located at the terminal station. There is a nude beach a few minutes down the road, but we were greatly disappointed to learn that only old wrinkly seniors sunbathe nude—even in Sweden—the land of everyone-is-so-beautiful-it-has-forever-warped-my-standards-for-beauty. Our beach—not the nude one—has a very nice restaurant, Solbrannan, overlooking the water sporting amazing views and delicious food. For Jon's birthday last year, I bought him a 2-hour windsurfing lesson. He absolutely loved it! The beach is enjoyed year-round with families eating their weight in ice cream in the summer and cozying up around their warm cups of coffee in the winter—soaking in a view of the Baltic frozen under a blanket of snow.

Osterskars havsbad in winter

Forests and Lakes

If the beach isn't your thing, Åkersberga has plenty of nature reserves and wooded areas for exploration—we have stumbled upon many new lakes this way. Due to Sweden's Right of Public Access, you can pick all of the blueberries or mushrooms you want in any of the nearby woods. During our summers, we usually alternate beach days with forest/blueberry picking days, and it is perfect. Nobody gets too sun-bleached, and we get to have wild-blueberry pancakes and pies all summer long.

Ahh, the lake

One of nature's best playgrounds, Domarudden, is a hiker, biker, walker, skier, runner, and swimmer's paradise. There are trails that criss-cross through the beautiful forests and a sparkling blue lake that warms up as a perfect swimming spot in the summer. There are cute red cabins for rent to plan a family getaway, business retreat, or mini vacation. The playground will challenge your child's balance, climbing ability, and imagination. It is a great place to feel like you are "away" from it all.

Another beautiful natural playground (I don't even know its name) is very difficult to find for the uninitiated. Neither Apple Maps nor Google Maps could accurately locate the GPS pin from my friend. She pinned her exact location while she was standing in the playground and yet we were still off the map! Eventually, we stumbled across it after blindly biking in the opposite direction and keeping our fingers crossed. It was worth the trouble because this playground is amazing! Our four-year-old loved navigating across the wooden balance beams, climbing on the ropes, and hiding in the teepees. I enjoyed relaxing in the recycled rubber hammock under the yellow and orange falling leaves. My two-year-old kissed every woodland creature—or rather, carved wooden statues of bears, rabbits, foxes, and cats.

Much balancing happening here

So many carved cow kisses

Gotta hold the princess dress high so you can see your feet!

While Åkersberga may not have the immediate "wow!" impact of Stockholm, it does have numerous redeeming factors. Children can safely ride their bikes or walk to school on the numerous pedestrian paths that run alongside the road, and the neighborhoods are friendly. Just drive 10 minutes from the Baltic and you're in beautiful green pastures with horses chewing on grass, manicured golf clubs, and picturesque farms. Yeah, life is pretty good in Åkersberga.

Horses, green grass, and blue sky

The robber of daylight

One eye creaks open, stuck with sleep, and spies a bright star twinkling through my curtainless, naked bedroom window. The night (or is it early morning?) is like heavy velvet. Without my glasses on, the lone star is just a bright blur. What time is it? It can't be time to wake up yet, it is still pitch black outside. I check my phone. It is 6:05 am.

It is late October and not even Daylight Savings Time—the antiquated rationalization to save energy—can stop the oncoming Swedish high-latitude darkness that defines winter. Click here to continue reading over at Medium.

Fall Snaps in Sweden

Our favorite non-Halloween spooky books

[UPDATED] It is so nice to get into the spooky spirit when the days are getting colder and darker. The gray skies are slightly more ominous and as the trees lose their leaves, a regular forest suddenly turns into a haunted one.

There are tons of fun fall books on the shelves but these are just some of our family's favorite books for this season. They are not Halloween-based but are perfect for this time of year. We love reading them throughout the year. Click on the book icons if you want to add them to your own child's library.

1. Room on the Broom by Julie Donaldson

This book, by far, is our favorite of all. The witch is a gentle witch and takes in castaways of all kinds. Netflix has an animated short that brings this book to life.

2. One Witch by Laura Leuck

Another witch book - this one collects odds and ends to make a burbling stew in her large cast iron pot. Though a bit spookier than Room on the Broom, the kids love this one and enjoy counting the spooky creatures on each page.

3. Spooky Old Tree by Stan and Jan Berenstain

Not surprisingly, the three bear cubs find themselves in a Spooky Old Tree and running for their lives! So much excitement!

4. Horns Tails Spikes and Claws by J. Elizabeth Mills

This is a board book that is segmented into flippable pages to allow your child to mix and match body parts to create a ton of new monsters. No words means that your child can enjoy it on their own.

5. The Snatchabook by Helen Docherty 

Who is stealing all the stories? There is a mysterious creature in town and everyone's books are going missing. The fall setting and element of surprise and mystery is perfect for kids who want to play detective. 

6. Even Monsters Need Haircuts by Matthew McElligott

The main character in this book is not only fearless around monsters, he cuts their hair! This book introduces typically scary characters by revealing their more "human side." Just don't look at the Medusa page or you may turn to stone!

Happy reading! 

Buying a Swedish house - eBay style!

We did not want to purchase any property in Sweden until we thought we "understood" the market a bit better. I placed understood in quotation marks because I don't think anyone truly understands the Swedish housing market. After speaking with numerous real estate agents, they all shake their heads and say, "I don't know. It's just crazy." I guess that's the easiest way to describe it: it's just crazy.

After doing some quick calculus, it dawned on us that we have moved 3 times in the past 3.5 years - Atlanta to Stockholm, Stockholm to Lidingo, and Lidingo to Akersberga. Moving so frequently is not only an expensive logistical nightmare but it is also difficult on the children. Now that our children are old enough to create friendships, uprooting them to the next rental for another year seems irresponsible. Living the gypsy lifestyle seems somewhat pointless when we have no intentions to leave Sweden any time soon. No, we had to purchase a house. It was time to figure out how to do so.

The Swedish real estate market (it's just crazy) is fairly streamlined on two websites - blocket.se and hemnet.se. After monitoring both, we found it easier just to focus on hemnet as there were mostly duplicate listings on blocket.

Jon spent every Saturday for a month driving around to the 4 quadrant neighborhoods outside of Stockholm to see if there were more affordable, livable options for us besides our current neighborhood. We didn't feel good about any of the other options for various reasons so we lasered our focus to the homes posted just in our town.

Here's how the process works for 99% of the houses in our neighborhood - a north eastern suburb of Stockholm:

• House is posted on hemnet.se with beautiful pictures, description and asking price
• Within 10-14 days of posting, there is one viewing on Sunday for 45 mins and possibly another on Monday for 45 mins in the evening
• Bidding (bids accepted anytime after the house is posted) generally begins on Monday
• Bids are placed via SMS to the realtor
• Once you enter a bid, you receive an SMS update every time there is another bid. Never has hearing your phone's text message BING been so stressful!
• After the bidding stops, the realtor calls every single person who attended the viewing(s) and/or placed a bid to see if they want to place another bid
• Highest bid (usually) receives the house 
• Home is removed from public listing after contract is signed
• The end!

There are different bidding styles, not unlike eBay, that we encountered:

• The Big Spender - places a first bid high above asking price to scare off competitors
• The Smidgen Upper - stabs your soul in small tiny bid increments within 5 mins of your own bid placement
• The Sniper - comes in at the last minute to outbid the highest bidder before the contract is signed

Example bidding - note the time stamps
All of these bids were received within 4 days of the house going on the market. It was sold before it's first viewing

The eBay-like bidding process is what makes the entire market unpredictable. We have watched houses that need serious renovation increase 37% in price due to the bidding. 37%! Also, sellers moving from pricier Stockholm are willing to bid up the price in the suburbs to secure whatever neighborhood they want and consequently, the prices are rising 14%-20% every 4 months. 

Jon and I observed this absolutely absurd housing market activity and said, "We may not be able to afford a house in this neighborhood if we wait any longer!" What a scary thought considering just 2 years ago, when we moved, this was a little suburb with a big commute.

What throws yet another wrench into this horrible process is that bids from the buyers are not binding and the seller does not have to sell to the highest bidder. Nope - if you are the highest bidder but bidder 2 is a friend of the seller's then you're out of luck. Also, someone can place a bid that raises the price, you counter, they remove their bid (it's not binding after all) and you are now stuck paying an inflated bid price. Too bad, so sad. 

You can see why we approached this housing market like a roaming lion out on the savannah. We hid, cowering behind a wall for many years so we wouldn't have to deal with it. Now the lion is moving much faster and is much stronger and we have to enter its domain. 

We possibly chose the most stressful way to buy a house and we placed a bid on a house that we had never seen before. We had missed the Sunday viewing and had only seen the pictures on hemnet. After going to enough viewings, we knew how realtors hide very big flaws in pictures so we negotiated for a private viewing. Jon was at work so I took him on a tour of the house via FaceTime. The house buying decision was based on how I felt while in the house. Is this somewhere we can make a home? Yes.

We were the top winners of a long and drawn out bidding war (so many SMS bings!) with our ultimate $605 bid (we had to be a Smidgen Upper at the end). With such a narrow margin of victory and the acknowledgement that at any point someone could outbid us, we raced into the realtor's office the next morning and signed the contract. Phew! 

We will officially move into the new house mid-December and instead of opening brightly wrapped Christmas presents, we will be unpacking boxes! 

The new digs

And back

Apologies for the identity crisis

The name of this blog has changed from, "Life is Good Ferland," to "Life is Good," to "Glögger," to "Knocked Up Abroad," and now back to "Glögger." Thanks for sticking through all of these changes, if you've been following from the beginning in 2011.

We originally started this little blog as a means to document our son's milestones without bombarding folks' inboxes and it transitioned into a "Life in Sweden" blog when he turned 9 months old and we moved internationally. I am working on a book, "Knocked Up Abroad," and had an ill-formed idea to utilize this existing platform as the book's website. That was not such a good idea so that project is separate from this blog over here. My intention is to keep the posts in Glögger about our own personal experiences and as a place for our American perspectives on very "Swedish" things.

In general, our lives in Sweden have normalized quite a bit but I do still have cultural epiphanies that I enjoy sharing. Sometimes they arise from being a parent, sometimes from being an American in Sweden and sometimes they are just observations that I make because I am me. Like, 2+2 and 2x2 result in the same number, 4. You can't do that with ANY other number. Isn't that cool?

Going Full Swedish in the Sauna

Most Americans have issues with public nudity. I don't know if it is because we were founded by Puritans who were too tightly laced or if it's because our society loves to judge a person's worth by their body shape. Regardless, the fear of being naked in front of others is evident by this video where female best friends boldly drop their towels to reveal that they have the same body parts. It's a cute video but it reinforces the idea that being naked in front of someone is a big deal. There is a large movement in the US for body acceptance - not caring what others think of you but also embracing what your body looks like. Complete body acceptance in Sweden is one of the biggest cultural differences that I have come to accept. Like anything that is culturally different from what you're used to, being naked in public is a fear I have and I must swallow my insecurities so as not to pass them along to my children.

Last weekend I took Calvin to the local swimming pool. There were naked bodies everywhere in the locker room and showers. Like a good little Swedish boy, Calvin didn't bat an eye and we headed through the showers into the pool area. After we were done swimming, it is tradition to hop in the sauna to warm up before showering and heading home. No bathing suits are allowed in the sauna - this is a naked body only zone. Calvin's excitement level for sauna time was matched by my equal and opposite feeling of dread.

Every insecurity I had about my body were racing through my head and I could feel anxiety rising in my throat. "Maybe nobody will be in the sauna." I thought hopefully. I peeked through the foggy glass door to see if someone was already there. I saw a foggy outline of a mom and her two children sitting on their towels. Bravely, I stripped off my bathing suit, grabbed a towel to sit on, and headed into the sauna with Calvin. Calvin had no reservations about any of this and he eagerly climbed to the top bench. I sat across from the other mother and wondered how I should sit. Should I cross my legs? Should I lean back, exposing my naked self in all of my glory? How can I make myself comfortable when I am so incredibly internally uncomfortable at this moment? Eventually, I just closed my eyes and did the ostrich move - pretend nobody can see you. There. Easy. The other Swedish mom smiled at me kindly and I didn't feel she was judging me. Her children were chatting and goofing around on the bottom bench and Calvin was sitting quietly and relaxing. It's just a sauna. Calm down, Lisa.

Saunas are hot and I really couldn't stand it for very long. I essentially had to drag Calvin out of the sauna as he could have stayed in for much longer. Another little family came into the sauna as we were leaving and I hoped that they weren't staring at my naked rumpa as I held the door for Calvin.

I felt as if I had chipped away some of my irrational fear by embracing the nudity in the sauna. I survived the ordeal and managed to hide my anxiety from my son. My children have no reservations around nudity and I want them both to have positive feelings about their own bodies, however they may look. Not passing along my aversion to public nudity (in an acceptable space like a sauna) is important to me as I want them to integrate into society. Sauna is a Scandinavian cultural and social norm and there will be many saunas in their futures. There will be more opportunities for me to overcome my aversion to public nudity and hopefully each sauna experience will help me relax and embrace what it is like to be Swedish. Body acceptance and all of the other health benefits sauna offers.

Sauna - one small step for a Swede, one giant leap for Lisa.

Physical and emotional closure

Ten days ago, we sold our house in Atlanta. Maintaining the house for the past 3.5 years was an expensive and logistical headache. Coordinating home repairs and finding renters while living abroad was a constant burden. Fortunately for us, our current tenants enjoyed the house so much that they emailed us an offer to buy it. Unfortunately for us, negotiating all of the closing processes while living abroad was more challenging than usual. 

To coordinate a timely closing, the US lawyers emailed us the legal documents to print on our side, sign, notarize and ship back. Easy, right? WRONG.

For one thing, US Legal paper, the size of paper required for printing out all of those affidavits and seller's documents, was not available in Sweden. A frantic search of local office supply stores resulted in the realization that I was going to have to be creative. 

Resourcefully, I spied my children's drawing pad of paper - it looked long enough but would it do the trick? I'm not one for DIY but after much measuring and cutting, I finally had 28 sheets of US Legal paper ready for the printer. Since it was much thicker than normal printer paper - as it was intended to absorb markers and crayons, not printer ink - I had to individually feed it each one into the printer, reset the printer settings and hit print - 28 different times. This was extremely time consuming to say the least!

Then came the little issue of finding a notary to witness and notarize our signatures. All of Sweden was on vacation when we did our preliminary search. Luckily for us, the only notary (publicus notarius, FYI) in our county opened the day before we had to ship them back to the US in time for the closing. We have only one day to pull this off. STRESS. Five hundred kronor and an hour later and we were out the door - taking a one and a half hour train ride into the city to FedEx the documents back to the US.

There was a mixup with the FedEx shipping label as Sweden couldn't figure out who to bill. The shipping label was for US shipping but it was coming from Sweden. FedEx did a few head scratches while figuring out their billing procedures so our lovely notarized documents sat in the mailroom for an extra day. Now we are in even more of a TIME CRUNCH than before and everything is out of our control. CUE MORE STRESS.

We tracked the documents and they arrived in Atlanta at 10am local time and the closing occurred at 1pm that day. Being so far out of the picture, nobody remembered to tell us if we had actually sold the house or not. There is always the off-chance that things go wrong at a closing. Jon reached out to the buyers the following day and they informed us that yes, the closing went well and they now owned our house. Done and Done.

All of the stressful parts of selling a house were made that much more cumbersome simply by living abroad. Every aspect of this process required at least two hours of online research and then the calling of various offices to understand the process. We were constantly thinking, "How can we make a Swedish solution fit our American problem?" Apparently the only solution might involve staying up for hours, measuring and trimming 28 sheets of drawing paper both lengthwise and widthwise and trying not to tear your hair out in the process.

In addition to the logistical challenges, I also felt strong emotions about selling our house. We have nothing physically tying us back "home." We have no items in storage - the management company threw away my wedding dress and photo albums so no need to take care of that anymore. Phew. Thanks guys. And now we don't have a house. I know we are saving money and stress and everyone is excited about that but it also means that our Atlanta chapter is closed closed.

Our house was symbolic to me of our old lives. It was our first house, the location of our marriage proposal and where we spent the first nine months of our son's life. While I keep those very happy memories with me, the sale of the house closed off that chapter for us permanently. The cliche loved/hated by expats, "You can't go home again" isn't just for a physical place, it is also for an emotional state of being. For the first time in 3.5 years, I really feel like we are permanently abroad. And as much as I love living abroad, I also loved our lives in the US. It was definitely with a bit of a heavy heart that I mailed those closing documents. 

Part of my sadness stems from the lack of a "proper goodbye." I don't know what one is, but for me, I don't felt like I had one. I didn't have enough farewell dinners or get togethers with friends - there just wasn't enough time. Are there ever "enough" farewell dinners anyway? 

You never know when your time will be the "one last" and you never know who it will be with. During the five weeks we had to prepare for our move to Sweden, we were in such a rush to pack up our lives that I never got to enjoy those "one lasts" in our neighborhood. That one last coffee at our favorite corner cafe. That one last dinner at our favorite restaurant. That one last walk through the park in the springtime. In reality, I did have those "one last" moments except I didn't know it at that time.

Moving abroad has made me find creative solutions to problems I didn't know ever existed - like creating US Legal sized paper in a foreign country - and it has made me appreciate the "one lasts" I will never have again. Sometimes we don't get the emotional closure we are looking for.

Like most things in life, this was bittersweet. A little bit of sadness and a little bit of joy as we let go of the things we no longer own. I'm still making my peace with this and that's OK.

My son thinks I'm a cold-blooded killer

We had a minor incident where my son saw me clap-kill a fruit fly in our kitchen and since that clearly murderous moment, he's been eyeing my behaviors around animals very closely. I've been on my best behavior and have only been killing fruit flies after he goes to bed or is at preschool. As far as he's concerned, it was just an isolated incident for which I have already profusely apologized.

Yesterday, I was helping his sister wash her hands in the sink and Little Buddha (I'm just going to refer to him as that because it's so much more appropriate than his name at the moment) was chatting with me about something - probably Mutant Mania or something. I saw a little gnat lazily wander by the stream of water flowing in the sink and I couldn't help myself. I splashed the gnat and helped the water wash the poor guy down the sink. Was it a heartless act? Probably but I really thought Little Buddha's attention was somewhere else.

Nope.

Little Buddha: Why did you just do that, Mama?!? Why did you get that bug wet? It wasn't hurting anyone! It can't swim in the sink. It's not supposed to be in the sink!

Me: What? Was that a bug? [Incredulous look] I thought that was just a black spot on the sink. I didn't know it was a little bug.

Foolishly I thought I could back out of this with a little fib. Nope.

LB: It wasn't a black spot though, it was a fly. Why did you do that?

Me: I'm sorry, Little Buddha. I didn't realize it was a fly. I won't ever get a fly wet again.

We carry on and unfortunately, my lax attitude towards cleaning is about to bite me in the rumpa. I have been really busy working every day from the minute I drop the kids off at preschool until the second I pick them up. I've been focused on everything else and have totally let housekeeping, laundry, grocery shopping, you name it, slide past me.

There just so happens to be a dead fly in the middle of the hardwood floor of the living room. I swear, it wasn't there earlier! He literally showed up dead on my doorstep. We both discover the carcass at the same time. Little Buddha happens upon the quite large and very much dead house fly and turns on me with so much hurt in his eyes.

LB: YOU KILLED ANOTHER FLY! How could you do this? You made a promise!

Me: Little Buddha! I swear, I did NOT kill that fly. He died completely on his own. He died a perfectly natural death. It was just his time to die.

LB: How did he die then? [indignant stance] I don't see flies just dropping out of the air. Did you do this? [He claps his hands loudly in my usual fruit fly killing manner]

Me: No, I did not clap him.

LB: What about this? [He slaps his palm onto the hardwood floor]. Did you squish him?!

Me: No, I swear. I did not kill that fly.

At this point, Little Buddha is so adamant in his demonstrations of possible fly-killing methods that I'm trying really hard not to laugh. His shrill little boy voice and hand slapping is just too comical. You know when the corners of your mouth are dying to go into FULL SMILE and you have to fight it? It totally makes you look like you're lying. My mouth was betraying my true innocence.

Me: OK, Little Buddha. You were right. I didn't think that fly was a black spot on the sink. I did wash him down and kill him because I thought you weren't watching. I'm sorry for that but I swear - I had nothing to do with this fly's death. I would admit it if I did.

LB: OK. I guess so.

Me: Can we put the fly in the garden? He deserves a burial.

LB: That way he knows where he is?

Me: What do you mean by that? You mean, so he is where he should be?

LB: Yeah. [He cradles the dead fly in his hands, walks it outside and throws it into the garden.] There little fly. Now you know where you are.

These flies need to a) stop being a nuisance and b) stop spontaneously dying on my doorstep and making me look bad.

Embracing fredagsmys

During my intensive Swedish language course, our teacher introduced me to some new aspects of Swedish culture. Some of the cultural nuances of Swedish life are the types of things I probably would learn if I was married to a Swede but since we're all Americans over here, I had to learn these in the classroom.

One Swedish concept that I brought home with me was the concept of fredagsmys. Swedes love to throw two words together, like fredag (Friday) and mys (coziness) to create a new word. It translates into, "Cozy Friday." The concept is that at the end of a busy work week, you just want to relax and unwind. Swedes usually celebrate fredagsmys by buying and eating a ton of chips, candy and other junk food snacks while watching a fun movie with the family. Cell phones, tablets and computers are put away for non-electronic forms of entertainment to unwind and reconnect.

But Lisa, you just said they watch a movie. Aren't movies electronic forms of entertainment? I know, I know but this is how they celebrate it. I don't make the fredagsmys rules.

Having survived numerous cold and dark winters in Sweden, I can attest to how fredagsmys became so popular. The lighting of candles around the house, snuggling into warm blankets and eating a metric ton of chips would make me feel all warm and cozy too.

We are implementing fredagsmys in our house every Friday. This Friday, our fredagsmys activity will be a fun game of Yahtzee with the kids - they love throwing dice everywhere - and eating some frozen pizza because nobody wants to cook. We can be lazy on Fridays! It's fredagsmys time!

What I love about this is that everyone can implement fredagsmys in their homes if they want - living in Sweden or elsewhere. Turn off your cell phone, put away your troubles for the day and cozy up with a good book and some salty snacks.

Happy Friday!

The Sorriest Playground

One of our favorite things to do with our children is what we've dubbed, The Playground Crawl. We love to explore new cities by going on a little tour of their playgrounds and hopping from place to place with random stops for coffees for the adults and ice cream for everyone. We've happily toured Stockholm and Lyon in this manner and were looking forward to discovering the plentiful playgrounds of Hoboken. We had only a few days to share between Hoboken, NJ and Manhattan before we flew back to Stockholm at the end of our vacation and we figured a scenic Playground Crawl of Hoboken's finest play spaces was the best way to finish up our vacation.

Hoboken has some of the most scenic playgrounds I have ever seen. It is such a family friendly city, in close commuting distance to NYC, and the playgrounds were top notch. There were spongy recycled tire shreds/sneaker rubber used as a soft crash pad that replaced dirt in most areas, the play equipment was new and in good condition and the views were incredible. Most playgrounds had a nice smattering of shade provided by beautifully tall trees and they all had a water feature of some sort to help the children cool off a bit and splash around. I did a quick survey and determined that neither of my children would ever be able to hurt themselves in this environment and settled on a nearby bench to finally relax and enjoy my coffee.

And that's when I first heard it..."Sorry!"

It was the first, but certainly not the last, unnecessary apology I heard that morning. Once you start hearing something, your ears seek it out and you just can't stop hearing it.

5 Ways Sweden Could Celebrate their National Day - if they cared

Princess Estelle 

When it comes to celebrating patriotism, we are somewhat disappointed in the way that Swedes go about celebrating - or ignoring - their own national holiday. June 6th was deemed Sweden's Nationaldag only about 10 years ago, so it's a relatively new holiday. Even still, Swedes approach this day as they would any other normal day. There are no BBQs, no parades, no fireworks, basically nothing to distinguish this day from any other. Only a few houses put out their Swedish flags in honor of the former flag day. Why? The Local had an article about why so many Swedes ignore National Day which touches on why most Swedes approach this day with such apathy.

I spoke with our neighbors and they said it would be most Swedish to ignore the day completely since it isn't rooted in any history and they don't have any traditions. Why not have fun with a made up holiday? Geez, Americans do it all of the time. In fact, we borrow other countries' holidays and Americanize them just so we have more fun ways to celebrate. If the holiday falls on a weekday, we celebrate it the following Saturday but we would never just ignore a holiday - even one that is artificially created. Are Americans just designed to celebrate? Who doesn't love a good party?!?

Being the flag-flying patriotic American that I am, I've brainstormed up a few ways in which Swedes could celebrate their National Day and create some new traditions. Being Swedish is pretty great, in my opinion, and it's time to embrace that even if it's just one day a year.

1. Give everyone the day off 
This year, National Day fell on a Saturday but Sweden didn't turn it into a 3-day weekend. Instead, they gave everyone a flex holiday to take whenever they wanted. That's great and all but it doesn't allow people to take a long weekend to visit their country house or make plans with friends and family like ALL of the other holidays provide. Give the people an actual day off and people are more likely to celebrate or make plans that result in traditions.

2. Schedule a community event - a 10K race + parade 
The 10K race, Osterakersmilen, was scheduled for 6pm on Friday June 5th. WHY NOT HOLD IT ON JUNE 6TH?!? Absolutely nobody is doing anything on June 6th and it happens to be National Day. This was a major opportunity lost, in my opinion. You already have a group of runners who love running in the 10K race every June, why not turn it into a really fun family-friendly holiday tradition? Add in a parade after the race and now you really have a celebration! Every community could organize something of this nature.

3. You need a song
Sweden has some of the best song writers in the world and a Swede just won Eurovision. Can someone please create a really catchy, fun-to-sing song about National Day? Nothing gets patriotism going like a moving song that touches on your emotions and swells up your pride.

4. Give away cheap flags/Swedish memorabilia
This one is easy - hand out really cheap Swedish flags or something similar at the grocery store on that day. Maybe blue and yellow carnation flowers? Balloons? Pins? I don't know - there are a gazillion things you can do to easily help people proudly display (or accidentally display) that they are Swedish.

5. Fireworks
Sweden erupts in fireworks every New Year's Eve and each neighborhood hosts it's own informal fireworks display. If each kommun organized a fireworks show then this would be another fun way - combined with the 10K race, parade and balloons and whatnot - to cap off the evening of a fun National Day.

Maybe I'm trying to impose too much Americana (basically a Swedish 4th of July) on Sweden but it just seems like a major loss to never truly celebrate being Swedish - or worse yet, to ignore it completely. Don't take your perfectly working social system with your universal health care, clean and efficient public transportation and the best parental leave benefits in the world for granted. It looks really insane to the rest of the world when Swedes have all of these things and then refuse to enjoy being Swedish.

Only in Sweden would I...

Inspired by fellow expat blogger, Life with Baby Kicks, I wanted to write about the things that I would have never ever thought of doing if we still lived back in the States. Swedish society is remarkably different and I think that over time, I've integrated in unexpected ways. Since integration happens gradually, it's only when you pause for a moment - maybe when reheating my coffee for the third time - to reflect back on how much your life has changed.

1.   Encourage my children to sleep outside

I must be crazy, right? You do remember that we live in Sweden where it is cold and dark for 6 months out of the year. That's no condition for a little baby to be sleeping in! Well, not only is it culturally acceptable to keep your child outside, sleeping sweetly in their stroller - it's actually encouraged. I once had an elderly woman reprimand me for keeping Calvin sheltered under a plastic covering because, "the fresh cold air is good for his lungs." She was right, as most old ladies are. Both of my children slept very well - like 3 hour nap well - outside in the winter air. Of course I kept them bundled in their snowsuits in their stroller sleeping bag contraption so warmth was never a concern. Nobody ever called the police for child neglect and I got to enjoy a nice cup of coffee sitting at my kitchen table, observing my sleeping angel through my window. Gotta love Sweden.

Here is Lucy just waking up from her outdoor naps - so snug as a bug in a rug outside in the cold winter air.

2.   Ice skating on the sea

Swedish schools will take their students out to the nearest frozen lake or sea, cut a hole in the ice, and demonstrate how to properly extract yourself should you fall through the ice. The students must then each jump in the water, feel the icy shock, and climb out by themselves. Why is this deemed a necessary exercise? Because everyone ice skates or XC skis on the frozen ice in the winter time. We discovered that to combat the winter blues, you need to get out of the house every weekend and get your blood moving. Lake or sea skating is just the thing!

3.   Living near the water

Before moving to Sweden, we had only lived in cities. I lived in Tampa for college and Jon grew up in Rhode Island, but I never imagined that we would ever live within a quick walk or bike ride to a beautiful beach. Stockholm has made it easy by being a city of islands and we've managed to live near the coast everywhere we have lived in Sweden thus far. I'll even "settle" for a lake but living near a body of water is at the top of my list of wonderful perks.

4.   Sledding as the main mode of transportation

In the wintertime, sometimes the pedestrian pathways aren't plowed first thing in the morning but I still need to get my children to school. The stroller gets bogged down with too much snow and walking becomes too difficult for the kids. What to do? Break out the sleds and drag those kids down the hill! They love riding in their sleds and it's become the preferred mode of transportation for all involved. Lucy wanted to go sledding last week and we are in the middle of spring, so it's safe to say that sleds are always fun and not something we ever did much of living in Atlanta.

5.   Living off of the land

I have always loved camping and nature and now we have fully embraced the Swedish culture of blueberry picking in the spring/summer and mushroom picking in the fall. The forests are open to all and you are legally allowed to blueberry/mushroom pick anywhere except directly in front of someone's house. We have discovered our own "secret spot" in the woods close to our house that yields a ton of chanterelles. Last year, we enlisted the help of our friend, Samantha, to help us pick enough blueberries for a delicious pie. We needed 3 adults to offset the balance of the kids just picking and eating their share.

I have two driver's licenses now!

Our American driver's licenses were only valid for a year when we moved to Sweden. Even with a valid license, driving in this country is difficult to do if you don't understand the road signs or have awareness of the right hand rule (yield to cars approaching from your right if you are not on a "main" road as designated by a road sign).  And let's face it, none of us worked very hard to earn that first driver's license in the US. I was very proud when I got my driver's license in high school but it's been a long time of building bad habits since then.

We applied to have our licenses extended and with just a moderate fee, my license was extended until February 28, 2015. As any good procrastinator knows, a little bit of pressure is good for getting things done.

As I mentioned in my previous post Glögg-er: Getting a Swedish Driver's License, getting a Swedish driver's license is a four part process and is quite expensive (~$1500). There was extra incentive for me to pass on the first round as Jonathan had passed with flying colors and I've always held the belief that I am a superior driver.  Bragging rights aside, we both worked very hard to pass on our first attempts. We have seen and heard about many people, Swedes even, who do not pass on the first try.

The theory test was by far the most difficult. As I waited in the holding cell/waiting room with the other potential drivers, people exited classrooms after taking the exam. I wasn't worried until I saw a woman weeping on her way out. She was wiping the tears off of her face and looked completely disheartened. Oh no. I took out my book and did some last minute cramming as we waited in line for our exam.

The test is taken on the computer and they provide a calculator for those physics questions (I'm not joking) and everyone has a different mix of questions so there is no advantage to looking at the person next to you. At the beginning of the exam, the introduction says that "there are many correct answers listed as options, you must select the best correct answer." Thanks a lot! After reviewing each question twice, double guessing myself, I gathered up the courage to click SUBMIT and saw the green text, "Passed!" through squinted eyes. I was the first person out of the classroom and basically skipped out of the building. So long suckers! Hit me with your next shot!

The driving exam wasn't difficult for me because my driving instructor had prepared me for most of the driving scenarios I would encounter during our 5 private lessons. They were worth every penny because without them, I would've had no idea what they were looking for. Essentially, all emphasis is on safety and continuing the flow of traffic. Prior to the test, the evaluator (?), driving tester(?) told me that her boss would be riding in the car with us as he was evaluating HER performance. My reply, "great, then we'll all be a little nervous." After about 4 minutes of driving, I shook off the nerves and felt confident that my driving was sufficient to pass. I didn't have to parallel park or do any of the really tricky traffic situations that I had prepared for, so I felt as if I had a moderately easy exam. Or perhaps I am just that good of a driver(?) Either way, the worst is over and now I have "free" time as my nights are no longer spent studying traffic rules, regulations and signs. Woo hoo! It's like I'm 16 again! So legal to drive wherever I want!

Vad heter du?

"Vad heter du? Vad heter du?" - I was always asked this question, "What's your name?" by a group of children every time I walked past a Swedish preschool/daycare.  I would smile politely at the group of school children pressed against the chain link fence and give them my answer. What they did with that information, I'll never know. In fact, it seemed like something of an icebreaker/greeting that the children inherently knew and I found it endearing.

There is a construction site across from Calvin and Lucy's preschool and there was a construction worker standing there, directing pedestrian traffic as a large truck rumbled by. "Vad heter du?" asked Calvin. The man just smiled and ignored the question as I am sure he is asked it often by all of the children at the school. I think in that moment, it dawned on me that Calvin is a Swedish boy.

I asked Calvin why he asked strangers what their name was and his answer was surprisingly simple (I'm not sure why I expected a complex answer). As if revealing the wonders of the universe, he simply replied, "Because I don't know what their names are." Oh. Of course.

I am still surprised and slightly taken aback when my American child acts like a Swedish child. It catches me off guard when very Swedish sayings come out of his mouth. He even says, "Jaha!" in our English conversations. At times, he'll speak in English with the Swedish sentence structure and we will have to correct him. His brain is thinking in Swedish and English and sometimes the wires cross.

Watching my American child become Swedish, not just speaking Swedish, is such an odd event that I think goes hand in hand with watching him grow up. He's most definitely carving his own path that I never could have predicted for him and it is fascinating, terrifying and gratifying all at the same time.