Calvin's current favorite book

A quick video because I just had to share his excitement when I read his favorite book, Pig-a-Boo.  It's an animal book with pages that have textures similar to the animals -- he never likes touching the lamb for some reason...it's weird.

The Real Housewives of Stockholm

Open pre-school -- Calvin is loving it

Parental leave in Sweden is extremely generous according to American standards, but in Europe, it's par for the course.  All working parents are entitled to 16 months paid leave per child.  A minimum of 2 months is required to be used by the "minority" parent -- generally the father, but there is controversial legislation being proposed that would oblige parents to split the time equally.  They are all about equality of the sexes here!

Given that women are often home with their children for 14 months, there are a lot of opportunities for mothers to get together with their babies and socialize and play.  There are stroller meet ups and something I discovered recently called "open preschool."  In almost every park (or maybe it's every park, I don't know), there is a building near the major playground (there are several) that is open for children to play within with parents present.  It's a clean building with a kitchen to warm your food, coffee and sandwiches available for a small fee, and designated times for sing along.  In general, churches host open preschools because they have the funds but the local government funds the open preschool closest to our house.  

I saw this as my golden opportunity to make friends with babies!  We are on a mission to make as many friends as possible before Calvin's first birthday so we can invite friends and babies over for a cowboy or viking 1st birthday party (we haven't decided yet).  Since Jon has Ericsson folks to befriend, one of my few options is rounding all of the open preschools in the area and buddying up with moms who speak Swedish and asking if they'd like to be my friend.  Yes, I feel a little isolated and loser-ish in all of these social settings, but I'm never going to meet people if I just hide in a corner or stay inside the apartment.  Nobody EVER knocked on my door and asked to be my friend.  I want that to happen though...it would be so much easier! Fortunately for me, Calvin is devastatingly cute and a good icebreaker!

Open preschool #1: Thursday 11am-1:30pm, Rålambshovsparken (I NEVER pronounce that one correctly)

Calvin woke up from his morning nap a little later than usual so we didn't leave the house until 11am or so. We headed over to the park and into what I thought could be the open preschool.  There were lots of words like, "Valkommen" on the sign in front of this building so I hesitatingly opened the door.  

**** Let me just pause for a minute and say how difficult it can be if you let yourself become paralyzed with self-doubt.  Here I am, walking into a building, with signs in a language I can't read.  I have no idea if the signs say, "For children ages 1-5 only" or "Hours 10-2" or "Parents must remove shoes upon entering."  I can only guess what is on the signs but I'm sure it's things like that.  I don't know.  I also don't know if I'm supposed to sign in and register Calvin, if this is really FREE (nothing is free in America) or if people will even talk to me once I'm inside.  You could easily hide in your apartment because it's easier.  It's much easier to feel safe in your own little circle but that world is limited and we moved to Sweden to experience the country and the people.  Ok -- I'm done painting a picture of my awkwardness and inner insecurities; I'll get back to my story. ****

There was a small group of moms chatting and playing with their kids on the floor when I walked in.  Open preschools are generally all Swedish so there was a flurry of Swedish being spoken all around me. Most of the children were 12 months old or so and were walking around Calvin and taking his toys.  It was the first time he's ever had a toy taken away from him.  He looked at his now-empty hand and picked up a new toy.  I met a mom, Anna, who is Swedish but happy to speak with me in English.  She was very nice and told me about another open preschool on Friday in Vasastan and invited me to meet her there.  Not one to say no to an invitation, I accepted and we parted ways at the T-bana station.

International Meetup Stroller Walk: Thursday, 2pm-4pm

I signed up at www.meetup.com and joined the International Parents Stockholm meet up group to make ex-pat friends.  The walk was scheduled the week before and NOBODY showed up.  I was very close to skipping this meetup as well since I was warm in Thelins and enjoying a nice cup of coffee but something inside me just said, "Well, give it a try."  I had 10 minutes to get to the meetup and it seemed like traffic was working against me.  As I turned the corner, out of breath, I saw a gang of moms with strollers standing in front of our meeting place.  Perfect! I had made it!  I introduced myself around.  In the group was 3 Americans, 1 Italian, 2 New Zealanders, 1 Canadian and 2 Brits.  Their children ranged in age from 4 months to 2 years so we had a varied group.  The international cohort walked incredibly slower than which I am accustomed.  Jon calls it the Stockholm Stroll -- which is more like a mall walker’s brisk hustle than a stroll.  I wasn’t sure if they knew that walking quickly generates body heat, which is really helpful when it is -6C outside.  Let’s get moving ladies!

We walked down and back on Norr Malarstrand and headed to an Espresso House in Vasastan.  A great number of ladies peeled off at that point and headed home.  I stayed on with a smaller group of 3 other moms and we fed our babies and completely invaded the space of the two people working on their laptops.  This particular Espresso House caters almost exclusively to moms with children.  There is even a small play area with toys for the kids to explore.  Anyone without a kid there must be nuts.  The place was filled with random mittens, baby food jars, women breastfeeding and random cries and gurgles.  The free wi-fi must have been worth it to the guy next to us because he stayed for quite a while.  I exchanged numbers with a few of the moms and vowed to text or call them if I was in their neighborhoods.  I imagine I’ll see a few of them again on Thursday at the next International Mommy walk.

Open Preschool #2: Friday 11am-1pm

Friday morning I power/Stockholm strolled to Vasastan to meet up with Anna to a church-sponsored open preschool.  Sing along was at 11am, so I aimed to be there a little earlier since it takes a good 8 minutes to get all of the winter gear off of myself and Calvin.  The church was very nice and warm and there were about 20 moms and dads in the building for the sing along.  Calvin and I were learning Swedish together.  There was a lot of tickling your baby’s belly, tapping their feet and making their hands clap.  I pictured the mommy-and-me tv episode of Up all Night where Reagan gets super competitive with another mom as to who can be the “best mom” in the play group.  Calvin WILL be the best hand clapper in the group!

The Swedish sing along was fun.  Calvin and I had no idea what we were singing but there was a lot of swaying, pounding the floor and tickling bellies.  It was fun to be interactive as a group and to observe other parents having fun with their children.  We’ll definitely be back for that group next Friday.

Overall, life with a baby in Sweden is extremely nice.  Restaurants have comfortable changing tables, baby food for purchase and high chairs at the ready.  Parks are designed for children with lots of play spaces – rock climbing walls, cargo nets, etc.  It’s pretty much what we have at Piedmont Park but captured in smaller green spaces dotted throughout the city.

The Ugliest Building in Stockholm is the US Embassy

I sold my car before leaving GA and moving to Stockholm and of course it couldn't be straight forward.  The bank had my car title in their possession and since I was moving so quickly, there wasn't any time for the check to clear and for the bank to send me my title to sign over to the new owners.  Ok, no problem.  Wells Fargo said that they would mail the new title straight to the new owners.  What they failed to mention is that I would need to designate a limited power of attorney, to allow the new owners to take the title over to the county tag office to register the vehicle.  This EASILY could've been done before I left GA but alas, we did not know it needed to be done.

So, the very responsible owners of the car sent me an email with links and all relevant information.  All I had to do was fill out this form and have it notarized at the US Embassy.  This however, wasn't as simple as one would think.  To get to the US Embassy, I had to take a bus.  Fortunately for me, if you are traveling with a stroller, you can ride the bus for free.  Score!  I love free bus rides!  Also, in Sweden, the bus is reliable and taken by almost everyone.  Stockholm has a great public transit infrastructure and everyone uses the bus and T-bana to get around.  OK -- so I hop on the bus near our house and Calvin and I are off to the US Embassy.  One hurdle down.

Once getting off (at the wrong stop), we found a bunch of Embassy-like buildings.  It was in a snowy tree-riddled windy little road.  I pass a really cute red brick cottage looking house -- it's the Italian Embassy.  Super cute!  Oh, I'm so excited to see what the US Embassy looks like.  Will it be a string of cute cottages on one property? Maybe it's a yellow house with white trim.  Maybe it's a red brick palatial mansion with a tiled roof.  My mind is racing and I pick up speed with the stroller.

a sneaky pic of some embassies -- aren't they cute?

not an embassy but it could be if a small country wanted it

I'm looking for the US flag as my marker.  Where is it?  None of these really cute houses have the US flag. Around the corner, there is a really ugly, utilitarian metal looking building on top of the hill and at the top of the flagpole is the American flag.  Waving proudly in the wind.  Yuck.  Really America?  Your embassy among all of these really cute buildings is the ugliest of them all?  Yes.  Because the US Embassy needs a perimeter protected by barbed wire, a metal detector/airport-like screening set up and at least a huge parking lot for the gazillion employees they have there. No mansion from the 1800s with charm and style could provide the security required in the ever so dangerous and threatening environment of Stockholm, Sweden.

ugly US Embassy

So, I stroll up to the embassy and there is a long line of about 9 people waiting quietly outside of the entrance.  I go to the end of the line and start organizing my paperwork.  They seem to be taking one person out of the line (and the cold) and asking them questions, etc.  No problem.  I have my appointment receipt and passport at the ready.  So we wait....and we wait...and we wait.  And I begin thinking that this is going to take a while.  I start tending to Calvin who just noticed that we weren't moving anymore and is vocalizing his displeasure.  The guard pokes his head out the door and says, "The woman with the baby!" -- Alright! Bonus points for Calvin!  We bypass the 9 other people in line (I mutter a half-hearted 'sorry!') and he asks me what service I need.  I say, "Notarial services" and show him my appointment paperwork.  He then says, "Ma'am, all US citizens line up in front of that other sign" and he points to a small sign, closer to the guard house, that was apparently intended for US citizens only.  The sign was tough to see since nobody was standing near it and it could hardly be considered obvious.  Apparently I was in the foreign immigrant visa line.  I should've known to start my own special line for the special treatment I deserve!  Oh well.  We were expedited anyway thanks to the behbeh in the strollah.

The inside of the embassy wasn't any more attractive than its exterior.  I don't have any pics because they made me forfeit anything with a battery during my airport-like screening.  We entered into a waiting room full of foreigners applying for US Visas and I pay my $50 and get my paperwork notarized by the consulate.

Just a side note, everyone I spoke with at the US Embassy, with the exception of the consulate and the woman who took my $50 was a Swede. I thought you had to be American to work at the US Embassy? Guess not...

The only other US Embassy I have ever been to was the one in Brunei Darussalam.  It was located above a Dairy Queen in Bandar Seri Begawan and you had to log your passport number with a guard at the bottom of an elevator who then escorted you straight to the embassy.  The only part open to visitors was a plush waiting room with embassy workers behind glass just like a bank.  In comparison to the US Embassy in Stockholm,  it felt more secure, smaller and less bureaucratic.  Here, I had to wait in 4 different lines to do 1 transaction.  In Brunei, you went to your teller who took care of everything in one sitting.  I had 30 extra pages sewn into my passport within 8 minutes in Brunei.  In Stockholm, I had one piece of paper notarized that took about 45 mins from start to finish.

All in all, it wasn't a horrible experience and next time I will know to stand in the correct/special line.  America doesn't get any points for style or grace but in the end, everyone I encountered was fairly friendly, professional and expedient.  Maybe because they were all Swedish.

By the way, Calvin was not impressed...

The Swedish Super Bowl

Game time with Magnus!!!

So when this whole ”Swedish” thing first popped up as an option we had a lot to think about. The logistics, the job, the adventure, the risks, etc. Shockingly (or not), one thing I thought of WAY more than I should have was how I would watch sports and specifically the Super Bowl out here. I was having nightmares that this year would be the Patriots vs. Falcons, and I wouldn’t even be in the country for it.

Luckily, the falcons removed themselves as a stressor the first weekend of the playoffs.

But the Patriots marched on, and I realized that I would need to figure out a way to somehow watch a game that started at 12:30am and would end sometime around 4am, in a country that might not even know that it was going on.

Lis assisted me in trying to find out how I could watch it – first seeing how we could stream US TV, then checking out local “boston-sports bars” (NOT OPEN for the game!), then finding that the American Club in Stockholm was hosting a party somewhere kind of far away. Then randomly I had lunch with my new coworkers and one lady sat down, who used to work for a TV station in town. I asked her about my dilemma and she immediately knew that TV10 would have it on! SWEET!

At that point, we switched to logistics. I was starting my second week of work that Monday, so I needed to be there at a reasonable time. I also needed to be with it, and I wasn’t counting on getting any sleep after the game due to the post-game celebration I had planned.

So I did what any red-blooded American male would do – ignored my family for the good of the game. We had some pregame pizza from our local place, which was fantastic, then I went to bed from 6pm to 11pm (waking up an hour earlier than my alarm was set for cause I was pumped up), so I had a good solid 5 hours in me. Lis had downed about a gallon of coffee that afternoon, so she was up and had her game face on still. Once up, I frantically searched for TV10, which took me about 20 minutes (20 very, very nervous minutes). Once I saw tebow on the screen, I knew I was locked in.

At that point I hustled to get some wings and fries in the oven (without waking the boy), and made some pre-game phone calls through Skype. I also grabbed some of the grocery store beers I had bought earlier – they were about ½ alcohol, but the liquor store is only open 10-4 on Saturday, so I had to work with what I had.

Getting my fat american on

veggie pizza, pre-game

meat pizza, pre game

Once the pregame started, I was excited to find out that instead of Steve Young, Michael Irvin and Chris Berman, I had three Swedes explaining the game to me. I did some quick googling on them, and Johan was the “bob costas” type – he just announces anything, a pro’s pro. Magnus was a huge guy with a championship ring – not sure what it was for exactly, but I’m betting he played in the Euro-league at some point. Then Kristof was the young gun of the group, and it turns out he had some actual NFL experience! Granted, it was two weeks on the practice squad for the packers, but still. He knew Aaron Rodgers AND spoke Swedish – he was good to go. (I love that in the US you need to be a hall of famer to talk about the game, but here, if you speak Swedish and know the rules of the game they mic you up)

From there, Mikey sent me a G+ hangout invitation, and this was the first time I’ve logged into G+ since the first week it was launched. It was great! We got a group video going with him in Chicago, his sister in NYC and his folks in Rhody. Everyone just set up their laptops near them, and it was as close to being at a super bowl as I could have hoped for. One interesting piece was that Sweden was getting the feed a good 5-6 seconds before the US folks. This had me reacting way before they were, which got a little awkward on some of the bigger plays. Lisa’s guess is that it was due to nipple-gate a few years ago, and that Sweden just didn’t care as much as the US FCC did.

it's like he was psychic

Game Time!!!

i'm locked in

high five across the pond

nice lil setup here google plus

So overall, the Super Bowl watching went great. We were able to “hangout” with our friends and family, eat fries and wings and put down some beers. Can’t wait for March Madness now!

The actual game….well lets just say I’m not quite ready to blog about that one yet….

Milk = mjölk

When we first arrived, Jon bought lactose-free milk.  10 days later, I buy sour milk. Disaster.

Here are two pictures of milk cartons -- you tell me which is the skim milk and which is full fat:

Now...I'm sure you could've figured it out by looking at the % fat.  The skim milk os 0.5% and the whole milk is 3%.  Ok easy enough. I bought whole milk.  No big deal, right? Just add it to your coffee and you're good to go.

NO, not at ALL!  I added it to my coffee, took a swig and gagged.  This isn't regular whole milk.  This is SOUR milk.  Yes, that is right.  They sell sour milk just like regular skim, 1.5% and whole milk.  Gross. We now need to figure out what to do with this much sour milk.  Most recipes only call for 1 cup of the stuff so I'm going to need to make a gallon of soup just to finish it up.

Here is a milk/mjölk guide:

lätt = skim

mellan = 1.5%

hel = whole

fil = evil sour milk that will ruin your day