The hardest word to say isn't "Sorry".. it is "No".

I sit here on my bed and as I look out the window and I listen to the croaking of the frogs and the chirping of the crickets, I know that for good or bad, my life is very different than what I had planned and dreamed. I am very lucky. I have my husband and my two children whom I love dearly but it all has a price. I used to be fearless and daring. I wonder sometimes what happened to that girl? The one that set out to conquer the world? Then I remember, she married, settled down and for the next couple of years had the wind knocked out of her sail by her new relatives. How dared I be different? How dared I expect more? How rude of me to expect them to keep their word and do their share. I was taught to be nice, to help when asked and to care and soon I was trapped in a snare of never ending favors that slowly drained any possibility of a life outside the family. Then my child arrived. My wonderful beautiful, strong baby girl. I took a look at myself. A long hard look and I didn't like what I saw. This was not the person I needed my daughter to see me as. So I stopped. I put up boundaries. It did not go over well but I refused to give in. I needed to change. I needed to be better so I decided to be brave again. Baby steps at first but soon my voice grew louder and I found the word "no" again and I used it. No, you may not hold my daughter if you have been drinking. No, you may not show up at my house drunk. But boundaries kept being broken. Every time I drew the line in the sand, she would take one step further, just to show that she could. Then my son arrived. My beautiful, wonderful baby boy and I found the courage again to say no, louder and louder, to them all. No, I will not buy the present and write on the card that it is from all of us, when I found it, paid for it, wrapped it and delivered it, all without any thanks or money from any of you. No, I will not pay for everyone because you "left" it at home after ordering the most expensive meal on the menu. No, I will not try to pretend that this is normal anymore. The "no" felt good to say and I savored the taste in my mouth, but they came at a price. Knives in the back when I was turned around doing them all yet another favor. Finally she was caught in her own web of lies and my husband could no longer refuse to see what was happening. He saw and he believed me. He confronted her, his own mother, and things got better for a while. At least it seemed so, then it got worse than ever and he found the courage to confront her. He found the strength and the will to say that word, No. No, I will not pretend with you anymore. No, I will not let you stab my wife in the back and act as if it never happened. No, you are not okay. You are an alcoholic and you need help. Let me help you. Choose us, not the alcohol. Her answer - No.

We live our lives quieter now. It has been almost a year and a half now. Her tentacles still 

reaches us every now and then. Sometimes I falter. I feel bad. I start thinking maybe, maybe this can be fixed. Maybe if I just... but deep inside I know, the answer is always no. I know I have to stay strong for my children and for myself. I will never again loose my ability to say No. Soon, we will move away, far away and I will rest easier. A whole country will be between us and when that dreaded day comes when we received that call asking for help to take care of her, for help with money, can she stay with us?, I will be strong. I will feel a moment of sadness for what could have been and then I will harden my heart and my answer will be simple.... No.

Growing Up

My little man is growing up. B is two and a half now and every day there is less and less of that tiny little baby I brought home from the hospital in him. For better or for worse, he is a little boy now. A little boy that cannot wait to grow up and become a Big Boy. His warm little hand gently but absentmindedly strokes my face as he plops down in the couch next to me. His attention is all on the movie in front of him. I watch him without him noticing, his face animated, totally enraptured with what is happening on the screen. I sit there quietly next to him,  trying to drink in every moment because I now soon, very soon, I am not going to be the center of his universe anymore. Soon he won't be running to me to have his boo boos kissed better. Soon he won't ask me to "watch this, mamma" as he contorts his body into weird shapes or hangs like a monkey from the bed boards of his bunk bed. Soon he will roll his eyes at me and wipe my kisses away. I know what is ahead having watch my friends go through it. But I'm not ready. Of course one day he will grow up. He will whether I like it or not. I want him to grow up to an independent, caring, sweet man. But not yet. Not quite yet. 

He plants a wet sloppy baby kiss on my cheek and takes my face in his head. "you watch too mommy, funny movie" he says. I smile because I still have time. I'm still included. We snuggle close and I sneak a kiss on his warm chubby little cheek. "You so silly, Momma" he says. I am silly, I think to myself. Why do I spend time worrying about the what ifs and the maybes? I have today, right now, and right now the world is pretty good. I love and I am loved. What more can you ask for?

Having a boy

I admit that when I found out we were having a boy I was petrified. Happy but petrified. I know girls, and having been one once myself made it some how easier to raise a girl. But boys? How do you even change their diapers? Do you wipe around it, over it, how? 

Then B arrived and none of that matter any more. Yes, it was different and it continues to be but I'm learning. I've learned that weird noises are a must when you play, the louder the better. I've learned that if you have two cars in front of you, you should smash them together with a good loud sound effect. I've learned to draw cars, over and over again and I'm learning the difference between a dump truck and a bulldozer. I've learned not to faint when he swings precariously from one hand on the playground, yelling "look at me, momma", (but I still hold my breath). I've learned that even an uncoordinated two years old can get some good tickles in, if they have you pinned down on the floor. I've learned to not cringe when he shows me bugs and worms and wants me to touch them. I could go on and on. But the most important thing that I have learned from my son is to relax and find joy in the little things. To not take myself so seriously. To stop stressing and have fun, even if that involves being on my hands and knees carrying the two of them on my back while I neigh like a horsey. I've learned that it doesn't matter if he is a boy or a girl. He is my child and he and his sister own my heart. Everything else is just stuff we'll figure out together.

PS, to this day I still don't know the proper way to change a boy's diaper and he is almost out of them now. But you know what? It's okay. I may not know the "proper" way, but I've found my way and my way works just fine.

It is snowing

Yes, you read that right. It is snowing. I'm not sure why I am surprised after all I did plant some flowers and bulbs the other day. If you knew me you would know how out of character that is for me. The things I do for my kids. For weeks now K has been asking me about flowers and seeds and planting of various things. "When can we plant flowers Mommy?" has been the question most asked in our house even winning out over "Can I have more popcorn?". She was allowed to pick out a toy from the store for doing great in school and she picked out a watering can, a shovel and a rake. I realized that resistance was futile and I surrendered. 

So we went to the local nursery and picked out all kinds of bulbs and potted plants to plant in our garden and then hurried back home to plant them. Two broken nails and a few arguments later they were all in the ground and we happily surveyed our work. B was less than impressed but once he was allowed to handle the watering can he began to share our excitement. We have checked on our precious little plants and flowers several times a day, admiring our work and now it is snowing. Not just a few random little snowflakes here and there. No, it is snowing. Hard. The yard is covered in white and through them here and there we can see our poor little flowers trying to come through.

K is philosophical about it. "We'll plant new ones Mommy" she says and goes to find a bulb catalog to dream about what to plant next. We'll do it of course. I'll break a few more nails and loose what is left of my sanity but it will be worth it. Because the smile that spreads across her faces as she looks out on her flowers, her enthusiasm and passion for life, that is priceless.

Dr Seuss Books & Plush Animals

For a while now I have been trying to find a Horton the elephant stuffed animal for K but with little success. Well, today I am happy to report that not only did I find a great one, it is also inexpensive and you can feel good about buying it since 100% of the net profits from the sale of the merchandise will be donated to support health and educational opportunities for children.

The Kohl Cares for Kids line includes not just Horton the elephant but also Yertle the Turtle, Hop on Pop and Fox in Socks along with the books that the characters are featured in. Both the animals and the books are for sale for just $5 each.  At that price I plan on picking up on of each and although I haven't really talked to my husband about it (yet) I think I might pick up a few extras to use as party favors at Katie's Seussical party extravaganza.

Land of Nod 15% off coupon

I just received this sharable coupon to Land of Nod. Unfortunately it is an in store coupon only but it's better than nothing, right?

Enjoy!!!

Dr Seuss

A couple of months ago the whole family went to see a local production of Seussical the Musical. We had a wonderful time, the kids loved it especially K and we went home happy knowing that it had been a successful evening. The next day K decided that from now on she would only answer to the name Gertrude McFuzz and B would be known as JoJo. We decided to indulge her figuring it was a phase and how long could it last, really? Turns out a very long time.

It has now been at least five months and the Seussical the Musical soundtrack is still what she goes to sleep to listening to at night. Although we are now allowed to call her by her real name she is still absolutely head over heels in love. When the movie trailers started showing for Horton hear a Who! she was beside herself and the first thing she would ask me each morning for weeks was "Mommy, is today the day we can go see Horton?" The other day we finally did and now we are back in Whoville full time again. But I have to admit I kind of like it. I love that she gets so enthusiastic and passionate about something. She will put on shows and make us all act out parts of the movie or the musical, most of the time it is a mixture of both. She knows every word to every song and she has already decided that for her fifth birthday (which is over six months from now) she is going to have a Seussical party and her biggest worry is how to get an invitation to reach Horton and all his whoville friends.

As for me, not growing up with Dr Seuss it is wonderful to make this journey right alongside with her. Each book we read is as new to me as it is to her and I find that I am falling in love right with her. In this day and age were kids are forced to grow up so fast I enjoy the silliness of "There is a Wocket in my pocket", I giggle along with her at the Cat in the Hat and we both are sad that the Lorax ended up all alone but we talk about how important it is to take care of the environment and your friends. The other day B crawled up in bed with me after his nap and thrust a book on me, "Apples on Top" and demanded I read it. Over and over again. Dr Seuss has a new fan and I cannot wait to explore it all again with him.

More Hair Pretties

I just check the Boots n Bananas store since I just got an email telling me they've just restocked their store and I am in want. Serious want. How can you resist these???

I love Pumpkin Patch

I love Pumpkin Patch. There I said it. I do. I love them. Ever since that fateful they when I happened upon their store in a mall I never normally go to I have been hooked. K is tall for her age. Always has been and finding cute wearable clothes that can take a beating started to get tricky once she outgrew 3T. I would get the basics at Gap, the jeans, the shirts, the occasional skirt or dress and then buy massive amounts of clothes on my yearly trip back home to Sweden and the UK. Then B was born and I realized the extent of how poor the selection of little boys clothes are. I looked everywhere but the only place that didn't have clothes with puppy dogs, fire trucks or various sports items on them were at Nordstrom and as much as I wanted B to be a snappy dresser I found $40 for a onesie to be a bit steep. 

Whenever my mom wanted to know what K & B would want for Christmas or their birthday my answer was always clothes. Cute, European clothes. For a while I thought I had found the solution to my problem in Hanna Andersson. I was thrilled that I had found a Swedish store and my heart swelled with patriotism but it was just a little too loud and a lot too expensive for my taste and I started loose hope. Then I found Pumpkin Patch. There it was. Good quality clothes that were stylish and affordable and fun. I looked around not believing my eyes, could this really be true. I could hear choruses in my head and I felt dizzy with joy. (Trust me, with two kids under two it doesn't take much to make you that happy). I promptly parked my husband and children at the back of the store next to the tv (don't you dare judge me, you would have to) and I just walked around and touched all the clothes. The soft cotton shirts, the corderoy prairie skirts, the soft worn jeans. I took a deep breath and then I went crazy. Absolutely crazy. I blush even thinking about how much money I must have spent. I was grabbing stuff left and right as if any minute someone would bust through the door to take it all away from me. 

After a awhile Ben, the store manager came to my assistance probably since I was staggering under a huge pile of clothes and won my heart forever buy saying those magical words... "you know we have a sale that starts tomorrow but I will let you buy them at the sales price now". 

Ben greets me at the door now. We chat and catch up while we pick out outfits for the kids. I always know that the clothes I buy will fit them and we always get compliments on how they look wherever we go. B like any 2 1/2 year old puts his clothes to the test but I have yet to not have them come out of the washer looking anything but brand new. 

In a few months we will be moving to North Carolina. A state completely devoid of Pumpkin Patch stores, something I am afraid I actually took into consideration when we were trying to decided where we wanted to go. But it's okay, there is always online shopping and as Ben said in a stage whisper last time, there is always visits. 

You can find Pumpkin Patch clothing here.

PS, there is a 70% off everything sale going on right now in their outlet.

Princess Mania

A while back I ordered some princess hair bows for K and as luck would have it they arrived today and we are both in love. They are made by a stay at home turned work at home mom named Allison, who decided that she needed a hobby that could also make money and Boots n Bananas was born. Not only are the bows absolutely amazingly cute but they are affordable too. You can check the rest of her merchandise out here.

My Someone

Spring is a rough time of year for me. Although I've never been clinically diagnosed I am fairly certain that I suffer from SAD (nice acronym no?) which stands for Seasonal Affective Disorder. I am lucky in that I do fine as long as I get a bit of sun here and there and I've never needed to take medication for it. But when the days of rain start stacking up on each other I get gloomy. Which is why living in Washington state is a spectacularly bad idea for me. But what can you do besides move? (which is in the works, but more on that later.) 

This year however it has been particularly hard since this time last year we found out that my favorite aunt had cancer. I had just cleared the table and was putting away the left overs from Easter dinner when the phone rang. It was my mom. My mom doesn't call here. She is still in Sweden and dialing all those numbers including country code never really turns out right. My body froze and I knew it was bad news. "It is Maritha", she said. "She has cancer". I took a deep breath and forced myself to listen without reacting. It can be cured, I kept telling myself. Get all the facts and then we'll figure out a plan and go from there. But the facts kept coming like punches to your gut, crushing my hopes. It's cancer, everywhere, tumors in the brain, inoperable, cancer in the lungs, inoperable, no hope, nothing they can do. I let the air out of my lungs and started sobbing. How can this be happening? She is only forty one. This is not happening! But it was. 

She was given two weeks to live. The tried radiation to try to shrink the tumors in her brain which was causing her to slip in and out of consciencess. She responded well and was able to come home but within a week she was back at the hospital again. She was so ill she couldn't remember to take the pills that would make her better so naturally she got worse which made it harder for her to remember to take the pills and she spiraled downwards until we were sure we were loosing her any day now. I was beside myself. Here I am thousands and thousands of miles away. I can't even jump on a plane because who is going to watch the kids and will I even make it there before she passes? But she pulled through. She was moved to hospice care and with medication and care she got better. She was still dying and there was still nothing they could do but she was better. I sent her a huge care package of all of her favorite things and she made every single nurse in the hospital come into her room to ooh and aaaah while she opened it.  

My husband was able to take family leave and I jumped on  plane to see her. I spoke to her doctor before I boarded the plane. He told me she was stable but he could make no guarantees. It was a 16 hour flight and I didn't sleep a wink. I did however drink anything they handed to me which in hindsight might not have been the best since traveling on a train the next day with a hangover wasn't that great but it was okay, I was on my way and things would be okay. I didn't cry when I saw her. I didn't allow myself. She was so frail looking. Small, shrunken and swollen, but she was there, she was alive and I hugged her for a long, long time. We talked for hours, about nothing. Everything except cancer. She kept refusing to talk about it and I had to respect that. I spent two weeks with her and I only left her side to sleep. I managed to find a wheel chair that was comfortable enough for her to sit in and we went for walks and ate ice cream and let the sun shine on our faces. We talked about traveling and places we wanted to go and see. She had always been active in the midevil fair circuit and when we found out that one was coming to a city not too far away I turned the hospital inside out to find a medical transport that could take us there. We dressed up in period costume, my mom, my other aunt and Maritha and I and we had a blast. We ate good food, we laughed and for a few precious moments cancer was not on our mind. The day after I left to go back home. We hugged each other tight, not wanting to let go. I could feel the tears fill my eyes up because I knew this was the last time I would see her and hold her and I whispered in her ears that I loved her and that I was going to miss her so much. She smiled and whispered, "I know, this is it but don't tell them I know". 

I cried the whole way home and much of the next day. She held on for three more months before the cancer finally took over her body to the point where she went in and out of consciencess and surrounded by the people that she loved and loved her slipped away from us for good.  I didn't attend her funeral. I couldn't. But I sent flowers, her favorites, and I know that the funeral was beautiful but it wasn't for me. Instead I took my two kids and my husband to the beach, we brought two dozen fuschia balloons (her favorite color) and let them go and as we did I could almost hear her whisper in my ear. "I know , I love you too". 

It is has been over a year now and I still miss her. She was my "someone". That someone who gets you no matter what. You don't need to talk about it, they just get it. A look across the room, a hug, or a squeeze of hand . She got me and now she is gone.  But I know she watches out for me and I know she loves me and I remember I am lucky because I got to know her and love her.

Opening the door

So here I am, blogging. Something I never thought I would do and have if I am honest, which seems like a good place to start this off, kind of laughed at people for doing. Why would anyone want to put themselves out there for the world to see? Then I became a mom. A mom living in a different country than where I grew up. In a country where all my points of references where different than the people around me. I felt lost so I started scouring the internet for information and I found it. In blogs. The same blogs I had laughed at where now my main source of information. The places I would go to to be reassured that my daughter wasn't the only one who refused to potty train at the age of two, that the diaper bag I had been eyeing wasn't worth the money and that I was not alone in feeling like my whole world had changed while I wasn't paying attention. So after some thought I decided to crack the door open, a small tiny peak, and welcome the world in. This is my life. Come in, (but take off your shoes, I am European after all), have a seat and let's get to know each other.