Lucas and Henrik's grandmother (Farmor) gave them a pocket advent calendar that was hanging in our house when we arrived. Each day, they open a new pocket to find a little gift. This is of course very exciting, but the problem is that Henrik has, for two days, woken me up in the middle of the night asking to open the calendar by saying "Number 13!" or "Number 14!" The first night, I let it slide because we were all jet lagged. This morning, I told him that the numbers don't get opened until morning time.
Today's prize - a mini pinball game.
Another prize - Mats had a second interview with a company here in Lund. Fingers crossed!
St. Lucia is celebrated in Sweden, as well as many other countries. She is the patron saint of light, and Sweden celebrates by having processions with a girl that has been crowned as "Lucia." She has a wreath with candles on her head, and is followed by singing boys and girls. I loved this tradition so much, that for the last 4 years I've talked about it in my boys' U.S. preschool in December. I would dress up like Lucia, have the kids dress up too, and we would walk down a darkened hall so the other classes could see us. Since I was one of the few that knew the song, and my singing voice is not my best attribute, I would have an iPod with a speaker hanging around my neck, so it sounded like a beautiful choir was singing. This year was extra-special, knowing it would be my last time at the preschool.
But now, having just arrived here in Sweden, we'd been up since 2 a.m. with the boys, whose jet-lagged bodies were telling them it was time to eat, play, and roam. At 7 a.m., we turned on the TV and watched the Lucia procession. It was so wonderful to be here for this - our first Lucia day in Sweden.
Afterward, Henrik celebrated by taking a nap on the floor.
Next year, maybe we'll venture out to a concert performance. But this time, our first full day in Sweden, it was nice to stay in our warm house and look out at the snow.
Mats' brother and dad met us at the airport, waving the Swedish flag. When we walked outside the Copenhagen airport, the cold was shocking - twenty-something degrees. Henrik said, "It's so cold, I can't breathe." A rented trailer to fit all our bags! Seeing our house for the first time, snow and all! Mats' parents had made it a home for us- washed sheets on our newly-purchased Ikea beds, towels in the bathrooms, kitchen stocked, and even adorable lights in the windows. And the heat was on, so it was nice and warm. Couldn't have been a better welcome. The first thing Henrik asked to do was take a bath. The first thing Lucas asked to do was shovel snow. I just walked around and looked at things in the house, and the views from the windows. It seemed unreal.
Wow, so much to pack, so limited time. The past two days had been spent driving around trying to find an open passport agency as we realized last-minute that Lucas' passport had expired (we'd forgotten that kids' passports are only good for 5 years vs. 10 for adults.) Luckily we had his Swedish passport to use for travel, but we wanted to renew his U.S. one before we left.
The final day had come, and we had a lot to pack. My mom, sister, and brother all came to help. Without them, it would not have gotten done (as well as help from other friends earlier that week!)
My mom arrived with Shadow to give us some pet therapy. She stayed with the kids in the hotel that night so we could finish packing.
Mats helping Henrik with a video game at the hotel, before bedtime.
OK, I’ll admit it up-front: I loved the book.Elizabeth Gilbert’s journey inspired me as she set off to Italy, India, and Bali to discover herself and God, while escaping from the life she’d willingly made with her husband in the box store-loving suburbs.My son was a few years old when I read it.Some days, while reading the book, the travel bug hit so hard I would find myself with my hand on my heart, nearly gasping for breath as I pushed my little guy on the swing in our fenced back yard.I just wanted to sell the house and travel the world with my family.And visit an ashram.In addition to traveling and eating the world’s best pizza, Gilbert was earnestly fumbling toward finding a sustainable connection to God.One of my favorite passages was when she finally broke through her inability to meditate, and basically experienced what it was like to be in the hand of God.
When the movie was announced with Julia Roberts playing Gilbert, I wondered how they could make such an internal journey - though admittedly with beautiful backdrops – into a movie.The answer is that they took the book, and made a movie trying to please the masses, a-la Sex in the City.When I entered the movie theater, the employees were wearing shirts with “Eat Pray Love” on the back, with quotes such as “I’m having an affair with my pizza” written on the front.A sticker on the ice cream window said, “You don’t need a man, you need a Champion! – Eat, Pray, Love.”And buy ice cream.
Though Roberts was great, and really got Gilbert’s personality and spirit, the movie felt long and incongruous as it tried to incorporate the different components of her journey.Perhaps expectedly, it ended up being a Cliff’s Notes version, without the depth of the book.Gilbert’s torment and depression pre-and post-divorce were barely touched on, save her mentioning she didn’t want to be married, and joking with her friend about Xanax.Instead of sobbing on the cold tile in the bathroom night after night, instead she can’t sleep and decides to kneel on the bathroom floor and say an introductory prayer to God. If you weren’t already there sobbing your soul out, why would you choose the bathroom floor to pray?
In Italy, the scenes of Roberts eating into a supposedly larger jean size were beautiful.I hadn’t eaten dinner yet, and that was a mistake.I could have tried every one of the dishes she ordered, along with the wine and gelato.My stomach rumbles just thinking about it.But again, the depth of her getting off anti-depressants, and the irony of declaring a year of celibacy and then hearing the nightly romps of her high-heeled upstairs neighbor, was lost.And, speaking of jeans, she and her Swedish friend Sofie decide to buy bigger jeans instead of worrying about their waistlines, but then are shown in a store trying to button some obviously too-small jeans onto their small bodies, and then cheering when they get them on.I thought the idea was to buy bigger jeans to avoid the muffin top and keep eating pasta. The movie got this part so wrong, I had to read to my husband, who came with me to the movie, the Naples and jeans-buying chapters just to set the record straight.What was missing here was Gilbert’s self-effacing humor and descriptions.
India and Bali, similar to Italy, had many of the components of the original story, but skimmed the surface.Her time in God’s palm, the highlight of her Ashram stay, was skipped.Richard from Texas had so many good lines to use in a short amount of time, that he seemed to be a walking one-liner.Ketut the medicine man was sweet, but the complications of trying to buy Wayan a house were omitted.Her meeting and falling in love with Felipe felt contrived, and all the wonderful sex they had was left to one’s imagination as they closed the swinging doors behind them on their way into the bedroom, and let the PG-13 rating stand.
Overall, I think it could have made a better mini-series than trying to fit it into a 133-minute film. I’m glad I saw it, but I could have waited for Netflix.
It's funny the things we end up doing for our kids. Or more specifically, for their schools. The auction fundraiser was coming up, and I wanted to contribute something for the class auction item. So, inspired by the penguin theme, I painted a penguin platter. The kids signed their names on the back.
Guess how much it brought in?
$160!
My little prayer for the day: May the future hold less need for fundraising for public schools.
