It is still warm(ish) here and whenever we have half a chance we get outdoors. I LOVE this - there is so much to go out for. My heart sings every time I breathe in the fresh air, especially now that the smell of autumn is starting to creep in. We go on adventures, my Bean and I, to the sea or the park or the river. My city kid is turning into a water baby, ever so slowly, and I'm so grateful.
… is okay. I think. He’s very challenging, and very Two. I can’t be sure whether the being challenging is down to him being Two or caused by all the changes he’s had to deal with recently, but it’s most likely a heady old mixture of both. On a good day he is funny, inquisitive, chatty, cuddly. On a good day makes me feel like the luckiest mum alive.
On a bad day he is bossy, contrary, unforgiving and clings to me like a monkey. Those days feel endless, as there can never be enough patience. I know that I’m using the Octonauts+blanket+cereal combo too often as a solution, but often I'm just out of ideas. And then I go to bed feeling guilty, sad, and sorry.
The Bean and I are still milking the summer holidays for all their worth, but next Tuesday it’ll be all change: he starts at his new nursery! I start work again a week after that, so fingers crossed he settles in well…
For Mr P&P it’s been full steam ahead since our second week here, so he’s pretty booshed at the moment. I think it’s hard for him, after a full day’s work, to come home to me running away for some time alone and the Bean hurtling towards him for some Daddy time. Still, we’re muddling along and hopefully things will continue to settle down (and balance out!) over the coming months.
In a word: chaotic. Our boxes arrived from Italy, all 22 of them. There is. Stuff. Everywhere. Fortunately this flat has tons of storage. It’s just that I’m not getting the chance to put everything in said storage, what with the Bean still at home with me! It is amazing to have our things back though, and make this cosy little flat feel more like a home.
When I’ve had a spare second I’ve been doing lots of tiny, upcycled DIY projects for it too, like these washi taped tins and some yarn storage made from chopped up cardboard boxes (well I have to do SOMETHING with them!).
We are frowning, puzzling, constantly Trying to Understand. I really don’t understand anything - I can’t even count to ten in Swedish - but even MR P&P, who does understand a little, is struggling to make sense of it all. What are they thinking? What is the norm? Have we breached etiquette, whatever etiquette may be here? I need a crash course in being Swedish.
In the meantime I focus on the small victories, like a new-found addiction to cardamom buns, the fabulous Nordic-ness of the public transport system. Potatoes smothered in dill mayonnaise, no less than three yarn stores (that I have found) in a town of just over 82K. And what a pretty town it is, too.
Small victories here too, amid a fair amount of missing our friends in Italy. I organised a playdate via a facebook group and, lo and behold, people turned up. The kids played, the mums chatted, and I felt sort of normal for a while.
Mr P&P played football with his new colleagues last week (and scored a goal, I must add) and I think he is becoming a firm fan of “fika”: a cross between a social get-together and a work meeting that involves lots of coffee, pastries and chatting. I’m so very, very tempted to start my own crochet fika. Would anyone care to join?