Merry Christmas to you and yours! Here in Sweden we had our celebration yesterday. Good food was eaten, toys were opened, and the merriness was abundant.
Here in Sweden Thanksgiving is not a national holiday. Which means I was in class. Despite the numerous e-mails arguing to the contrary, my professors saw it imperative to hold our seminars as scheduled. Though they failed to provide me with a better explanation for it than “this is Sweden”.
A what I’m getting to is the fact that we had Thanksgiving dinner last night. It was a gleeful event, where family and friends joined us at our place for food and fun. Everyone said they enjoyed the American style food, so we’re just going to have to take them on their word.We fit 14 people around our table(s), which is just about maximum capacity.
Hope y’all had a great Thanksgiving, whenever it was celebrated. There’s so much to be thankful for.
I don’t mean Mother’s Day, I mean my mother’s day. Her birthday. My Mum is turning 39 this year (as far as I know), and I’d like to wish her a wonderful day!
Though today may not involve a surprise visit from across the great blue, I hope it’s just as wonderful. This is a big year. Not only is four-oh approaching (right?) but this is Mum’s first birthday as a Nana!
Now, my avid blog readers will already know the ending of this story, but I’m gong to tell it anyway. The journey is the destination, man.
I don’t know if you’ve explored the baby side of social media recently, but according to that, gender reveal parties are all the rage. From the get go it sounded to me like an awesome opportunity to eat cool colored cake, so I was in.
Gender reveal parties can be done one of two ways. Either a special someone is designated to find out the gender of the coming baby, keep that a secret from the couple and all other humans, and help make the appropriate color schemed surprise. Or the couple finds out the gender of the baby and no one else knows until the big reveal during the party. Evelina and I went with the latter option.
After deciding that we needed to figure out how to do the big reveal. Pop a balloon filled with blue or pink confetti, open a present/box whose contents reveal the gender, be sprayed by our loved ones with the correct color of paint…the list is almost endless. We went with the tried and true method of cutting into a cake, and letting the cake do the talking.
Now, for games and entertainment. A prerequisite of attendance was a specific dress code, everyone had to wear pink or blue, depending on which gender they thought the baby would be. When our guests arrived they were conveniently divided into two teams as determined by their clothing choice. Before dinner was served our guests could guess the baby’s name, by writing it on the appropriate colored paper. We also played a quiz game where Evelina and I had written questions about common superstitions about pregnancy symptoms that can reveal the baby’s gender. Each team answered the questions, and the winning team won the honor of being victorious.
After dinner it was time for dessert, or as we say in Sweden, fika! Since Evelina and I knew the gender of our little one, we were the ones to order the cake to match, covered in white with the words “It’s a…” glazed on top. That evening our guests gathered round in suspense as we cut into the cake, finally revealing that we were expecting a little girl!
It’s here! The Fourth of July!
I love this holiday. Though for some reason I can’t fathom we don’t have the day off here in Sweden. I’ve written a letter to the local politician regarding the matter. I’m sure the positive response I’m waiting for is in the mail. While we wait let’s take a look back to last year’s celebratory activities.
I hope your 4th is full of family, friends, food and fun!
The third child in my family is celebrating his birth today, happy birthday little brother! It’s a big one this year, 21 years old. Good thing you’re in Europe! We don’t need to mention the fact that you have been able to drink adult beverages on this continent for at least 4 years because you’re currently in Sweden! This means we’re celebrating in style.
By style I mean going to the zoo. That’s what all 21 year olds want to do, right?
Stay tuned for awesome pictures of our day at the zoo! In the mean time enjoy this sibling selfie.
Today’s the day! The anniversary of my birth. The years between 26 and 27 have been rough. You read that right, years. Let me explain.
Let’s go back to a sunny summer day 2015, I was being a kind person and doing a favor. I had in my hand two winning yellow lottery tickets, I walked into the small shop to turn them in and collect the money. The man behind the counter looked at the tickets, looked at me, and back at the tickets. “I’m going to need to see some ID”. To clarify, in Sweden as in the US, the age at which you may purchase lottery tickets is 18. I handed over my identification, the man read it, and laughed to himself “You should take it as a complement!” A little hard to do with his laughter still ringing in my ears as I left.
A recap: if that guy thought I was under 18 that means he thought, at best, I was 17 years old.
Flash forward to this spring. At work I was outdoors enjoying the fact that the sun had returned to Sweden, when the conversation topic of age came up. A colleague asked me my age, and as I always love getting this question and answering it with another I replied: “How old do you think I am?” She paused “Uhm…..37?”.
You read that right, THIRTY SEVEN. Upon finding out my actual age she exclaimed “Take it as a compliment, you seem so experienced!”
What I’ve learned: it is a complement to be 17 and a complement to be 37. 27 though? No one knows. And this, my friends, is why my past year has, evidently, been a rough one. Aging 20 years is quite the feat, though not one I want to repeat, so this next year I’m going to take it easy. Super easy. As in I’m not going to do anything besides relax.
With a new baby, a new university degree underway and work to top it off I’m sure that’s feasible.