So Long, Sweden

As we prepared to leave Sweden, I started a post to help outline what I would and would not miss about Sweden as well as what I looked forward to in the U.S.

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Hejda, mjukglass, kanelbullar, chokladbollar, and fika.

So long, Swedish strawberries, blueberries, and lingonberries.

Goodbye, Swedish meatballs, farskpotatis, Swedish pancakes, cheese aisle, hearty breads, and Lussebullar

Farewell, long summer days, European vacations, midsommar, and Lucia Day.
I hope to see you again sometime.

Good riddance, Swedish tax authority, socialized medicine, and frustrations with the language.

I won't miss you, long winter nights, insanely high prices, and ridiculously short store hours.

Hello, American grocery stores, familiar foods, smoked cheddar, NY strip steaks, and real Tex-Mex.

It's been a long time, Lysol, Febreeze, and Scrubbing Bubbles.

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Of course, as the time to leave grew near, and the reality of the situation hit me, I realized that what I would miss most are the friendships, church family, and familiarity of our daily lives in Sweden. I know that there are new friends to be made, a new church family to discover, and a new daily routine to embrace; however, that does not eliminate the sentiments of nostalgia and sadness that I have experienced.

Sweden has brought me deeper and truer friendships than those I have experienced in a while. (This was especially remarkable given the fact that I was afraid to pour my heart into any friendship the first year of living there.) I will miss those people tremendously, even as I pursue new relationships and make new friends.

From now, though, I must look forward. I have learned that a good friendship is more rewarding to hold than painful to leave. I have met incredible people every time I have moved, and I am excited to see what God has in store for me as I enter this new phase of my life.

Baby Shower Time

Last night, some friends and I hosted a baby shower for a very sweet new mom. Danielle, the hostess, and I had talked about throwing the shower months ago, but life got busy. We finally figured that it was now or never. Our move takes place this week, so the timing was a little stressful for me, but I enjoyed myself once I was there.

My job was to help make the cupcakes. We had seen some cute bib cupcakes in a magazine that didn't look too time-consuming, so we decided to go with those. The other ladies put out fruit, sparkling juice, and some cute chocolate-covered mini-marshmallows.

I wasn't feeling the best, so my friend, Katarina, helped me decorate the cupcakes. She was a little timid at first, but she quickly got the hang of the simple decorating we were doing.  I was thankful for the assistance, and she had fun "learning from the master," as she put it.

Some of the cupcakes. We drew pacifiers and ducks on the bibs, and we also used some cute little bear sprinkles.



The chocolate-covered marshmallows.



The beautiful spread

Once we were done, we cleaned up a bit, then went to the other room to hide and surprise the guest of honor. I didn't take any more pictures, but I enjoyed the evening. We played several games, oohed and ahhed over her presents, and consumed entirely too much sugar.

This was my last time to hang out with most of these people, and I will miss them dearly. I am thankful for the friendships we have developed during my time here.

An Afternoon of Rest

This past week has been stressful. Well, to be honest, the past several weeks have been stressful. I really hate moving. But that is beside the point. This afternoon, after dropping a load of furniture off at the church and doing some last-minute shopping, we visited a dear couple we know from AJ's preschool and Timo's work.

Hoping for sun, we headed out to their house for lunch, swimming, fika, and fellowship. Lunch was delicious, with plenty of protein to feed my growing baby. The kids were growing restless as they waited for the adults to finish eating and talking so they could go swimming.

We finally finished, and the kids excitedly changed and headed down to the pool. They swam for about 20 minutes before the sun decided to hide behind a cloud, and the air grew cooler. K got out, went back in, and got out again. H reluctantly let me take his swimming jacket off so I could wrap him in a towel. He stood there shivering and protesting simultaneously. AJ was also out and in and out again. They just didn't want to give up their chance to swim.

When all three kids had climbed out of the pool, we walked to the house to dry off, warm up, and have fika. Annette served ice cream and American cheesecake topped with fresh berries. We ate with relish, and H devoured two pieces of cheesecake. AJ ate a little bit of everything, as did K.



AJ with a mouth full of deliciousness



When the kids were done, K and AJ sat in the now-present sun and played.



Playing with Polly Pockets



After fika, I insisted on taking a picture of Hans and Timo. After all, they have worked together for the past 3.5 years, and he has been there for us on many occasions. He helped us put in our sod, helped take down a tree, and invited us to attend several gatherings with them. 



Hans and Timo

 After fika, we looked at some wedding pictures and a short video from their daughter's wedding two weeks ago. It was fun to hear about Swedish wedding traditions and see pictures from a Swedish wedding. When it was over, we talked some more while the kids ran some of their energy off.

Before we left, AJ gave Annette a big hug. AJ doesn't just hug anyone. She is a very special lady who has gotten to know our sweet boy at preschool and always treated him well. I asked if he would take a picture with her, and he agreed (another indicator in how much she means to him). On my small camera screen, the shot looked fine, but it turned out blurry once I got it on my computer. I am so bummed because it would have been a great shot otherwise.

Annette and AJ

 This afternoon was a much-needed time of rest and fellowship. I am thankful for these friends and what they have meant to us during our time here.

A Close Call

A shot of our back yard looking out our bedroom window.

We have been experiencing more thunderstorms than usual this summer. The past two nights have been evidence of this as we lay in bed listening to thunder peal across the sky.

Last night there was more than rain falling, though. We woke up and discovered one of the trees in our back yard had succumbed to the forces of nature.

I was not thrilled with the idea of a downed tree, but I was so thankful that it did not fall toward the house. The last thing we need now is damage to our Swedish abode a week before we leave. So.... Thank You, God!

Summer Swedish Strawberry Selecting

This morning, despite a million reasons why I shouldn't and only four reasons why I should, I took the kids strawberry picking.



Our harvest -- minus the ones we couldn't wait to eat.



K had been asking me about it every time we passed the sign pointing toward the longed-after fields, but the timing was never right. Well, this morning, we had to run an errand that took us by the strawberry fields on the way home. I thought this was a prime picking opportunity. We turned toward the fields, our mouths watering at the thought of the harvest we would gather. 

We chose to fill six small containers, with my thinking that each kid could fill three. Well, K ended up filling more, and AJ filled less. This was mostly because AJ and H had to share my attention, while K could pick on her own. I didn't realize AJ wanted more help until H had mostly filled one container. Then, I started pointing out good ones for him to pick as well. Once he got the hang of it, he took off, though, and he and K topped off the last two at the end. 

There were so many berries that the whole process didn't take that long, but we went home happy. I convinced H to leave the field by reminding him of the cows we parked near. I think he was more excited about the cows than the strawberries. 

I wouldn't let the kid taste the produce while we were picking, so we arrived home anxious to taste our treasures.

Baseball and Cherry-Picking



K picking cherries



Our house has been full of the stress of moving overseas, and I believe that everyone has felt the recent tension. Last night, we took a short break from the to-do lists to just enjoy being a family.

We have a cherry tree in our back yard that we have never taken advantage of. This is mostly because Timo does not care for cherries, and I can take or leave them. But sometimes picking cherries is half the fun. Or maybe even seven-eighths.



Our bowl of cherries



Timothy was out with the kids, playing baseball with AJ, who wants to start T-ball this fall. K noticed the cherries on the tree, and she came in to tell me that they were picking cherries. I took advantage of this time to join the rest of the family outside, and we had a few minutes of berries and baseball. For those few moments, I felt that we were just being a family, with no outside pressures. It was a time to be treasured.

The Worst Day

June 29, 2011 was one of the worst days of my life. It started out well enough.  We had decided to visit the open-air museum in Gamla Linköping. We had been there once before with some good friends, and the kids had lots of fun washing clothes the old-fashioned way, building a car out of scrap wood and nails, and more. The same was true of this trip. Until we decided to go make some rope.

The girl (it was her first day on the job in this area of the museum) was explaining about the rope-making process, and she was showing us the fibers before we went to make our own rope. Meanwhile, AJ and H, being the impatient boys that they are, ran over to the more interesting rope-making machine (which was full of gears). I heard AJ turning it rapidly, I turned to tell him to stop, and that is when H stuck his fingers in the gears. I heard him cry, expecting him to be hurt, but I was not prepared for the severity of the injury. I was shocked and horrified, and I screamed. He was crying and crying, and there was no consoling him. This was different than any injury I have dealt with before. The girl got us some paper towel to put over the wound and catch the blood that was pouring down his arm, my arm, and dripping onto the floor and my pants. Then she ran to get help.  

Meanwhile, AJ stood there with his hands over his mouth, horrified, himself, at what had just happened. I couldn’t give him the hugs and consolation that I am sure he needed, and that bothered me until I could talk to him the next morning.

While we waited for help, I lost it. I started crying, too. I couldn’t help it. After H’s hand was bandaged, one man offered to drive us to the ER. I gave my car keys to my sister, Jaime, and she took care of my kids and her family while I got in the car to seek help for my little guy. She also called Timo to let him know what happened. He immediately left for the ER.

At the ER, we were admitted immediately, but it took forever for a doctor to see H. After more than 6 hours, one dose of acetaminophen, two doses of morphine, two rounds of x-rays, numbing cream, a shot of local anesthesia, and 5 stitches, we were finally on our way home.

I had a hard time falling asleep that night. It felt good to be on the healing end of such an incident, but those first images of his finger and the horror that accompanied them kept replaying in my mind. H ended up in our bed that night, but I was happy to have him close by to reassure me that he was okay.