Viking in the Oven

Well folks, it's official: I'm expecting, with child, knocked up, in a family way, eating for two, up the duff, and my eggo is preggo.  Our little Ameriswede is due to make an appearance in mid-August, just in time for his or her birthday to be celebrated with loads of crazy Swedish crayfish parties! 

Since this is my first pregnancy I've been a little obsessed with over-analyzing every little symptom that comes along, but luckily everything has been pretty laid-back compared to some of the horrific morning sickness that some of my poor friends have dealt with.  I took a positive pregnancy test on the first evening we arrived in the US for my brother's wedding in early December....in a hotel room in Chicago, after sneaking one last taste of a sadly-missed Leinenkugel's beer.  We managed to keep the big news undercover during most of our trip to the states with the excuse of me designated-driving after my brother's wedding rehearsal dinner and reception, and luckily I wasn't feeling anything different at that point aside from a little jet lag.

Things started to kick in when I was around 6 weeks along...I was putting on mascara and it smelled really strong.  I thought, "Since when does mascara smell so weird and chemically?"  Then suddenly the smell and taste of coffee, which I usually love, just didn't seem appetizing at all.  Not like an instantaneous barfing reaction, just more of the sensation that coffee was suddenly a weird non-food that didn't interest me in the slightest.

By the time we made it home for Swedish Christmastime, I was feeling pretty blech and had developed a new skill of being able to nap on demand, anytime, anywhere.  I was also amazed at how offensive certain smells and foods had become, like pissed off that certain things could smell so revolting.  We went out to M's parents for Christmas dinner and I was a very quiet, green girl at the dinner table while a huge array of strange and strong-smelling foods were passed under my nose.  Most typical Swedish Christmas foods consist of salty cured meats, mini sausages and meatballs, salmon, pickled herring, deviled eggs, meat pâtés, and other delicacies.

Yum for some, yuck for me. (Wikipedia photo)

My best friends that day were plain potatoes, fizzy water, and bread.  I managed to sit through the dinner and hopefully be polite while all the time thinking that I'd pay someone a million dollars to hold a fan blowing minty fresh air on my face and feed me a plain fruit salad.  M's intuitive mother had a clue that something strange was going on and pretty much read the pregnancy signs all over my queasy face (she told me this after I broke the news to her a few weeks later).  Luckily I never got sick enough to the point of actual vomiting, and now that I'm into my second trimester I've been feeling close to normal for the most part.  Unfortunately I have a feeling that Swedish Christmas food might forever be on my list of "yuck" memories.

Early pregnancy is a weird time...you feel like crap most of the time, the happy-sweet-motherly feelings are far from kicking in, and you can't tell anyone what's going on because it's too early.  Now that the cat is out of the bag I'm starting to get more and more excited and things seem to be cooking up as they should be.

I feel unbelievably lucky to be giving birth in Sweden after watching movies like this one and learning more about the backwards way that hospitals treat pregnant women in the US. 

Here in Sweden, all prenatal visits and births are overseen by midwives instead of doctors, and the general attitude seems to be, "What can we do for you?"  They've been very hands-off with me so far and have treated me like the normal, healthy person I am instead of something that needs to be diagnosed and treated.  We'll have an ultrasound in a few weeks and I'm excited to catch a glimpse of our little squirt soon.  Needless to say this blog is about to get much more baby-fied, starting now!

Our neighbors

The older couple living next door to us is, to put it nicely, a little "different."  I believe the man is a retired painter/drunk and his lady friend is a school cook of some kind.  They spend most of their days holed up inside, but when summertime arrives they emerge into the yard to practice one or more of the following activities:

• Drinking beer in the yard
• Painting broken pieces of old furniture while drinking beer
• Turning on a very noisy sanding machine to sand an old boat in the yard at 7am on Sundays while drinking beer
• Standing in the middle of the yard in a nightgown with the back end of said nightgown conveniently tucked into the back end of large droopy panties (lunch lady only)
• Coughing miserably while smoking cigarettes
• Inviting a number of equally "interesting" characters over to drink beer, play some type of bocce ball game, yell, smoke cigarettes, cough, and occasionally pee in the hedges that separate our yards

Our neighbors have taken it upon themselves to "decorate" our adjoining yard with plastic flowers, a tiny plastic fountain, numerous plastic animals and trolls, and many other items that look like they may have been picked out of a trash bin.  At the entrance to our shared driveway stands a sentinel gnome whose face has unfortunately fallen off.  This gnome is terrifying to me.  I was really glad when the snow came and covered him up, but with the recent thaw his sinister non-face has emerged from the drifts:

 

I suppose the only good thing I can say about our neighbors is that they are a constant reminder that not ALL Swedes are prettier, skinnier, smarter, and more stylish than Americans.  Most Swedes are, but not our neighbors.

Get outta my way

Okay.  I really like Sweden.  It's beautiful, clean, organized, intelligent, etc, etc, etc.  I feel really lucky to be able to live here.  But there's one aspect of Swedish culture that I don't think I'll ever get used to and that's the general coldness and (what I perceive to be) rudeness of Swedes to each other in everyday situations like getting on a bus or standing in line at the grocery store. 

In the US (at least in the places I've lived), people generally approach strangers with a friendly and kind attitude.  They hold doors open for each other, politely wait for elderly folks to shuffle past, and offer up a smile, helping hand, or kind word without hesitation.  When I was living in Texas before I moved here, the friendliness and hospitality went all the way to eleven...strangers standing in line would strike up conversations, joke around, and ask each other all kinds of questions.   In Texas it's possible to actually make a real friend just by talking to the other person at the mechanic shop while waiting to get your car fixed.

In Sweden, no way.  The general attitude of Swedes out in the world is to look straight ahead, don't talk to anyone you don't know, keep a tight-lipped grimace, and for god's sake don't open a door for anyone while you go about your business.  Once you're formally introduced to a Swede they will light up like a 4th of July sparkler and become incredibly sweet and friendly, but until then, good luck breaking that cold Swedish exterior. 

Standing in line here is a hilarious experience which can easily drive you crazy if you try to be too American about it.  In all places where you have to wait to talk to someone behind a counter you'll find a number machine that keeps everyone in order.  When no number machine is available, Swedes turn into packs of cutting-in-line, selfish children nervously eyeing each other to make sure no one gets in front of them.  I once saw an older man literally RUN across the grocery store when a new cash register opened up so that he could be first. 

Riding the bus is also a far cry from an exercise in neighborliness.  You do NOT look at or talk to the person next to you.  You stare straight ahead, send text messages, listen to your ipod, or read the newspaper.  Trying to strike up a conversation with the person next to you will get you a confused look of "who the hell do you think you are" because Swedes Don't Do That. 

Anyway, this phenomenon wasn't quite so annoying to me during the bright, beautiful Swedish summertime, but when the weather turns dark and dreary it sure would be nice to see some smiling faces out there.  Since I'm not the most outgoing person in the world I can't be too hard on the Swedes, but right now I'm missing me some loud, funny, good old Southern US hospitality.

Blog-slackin'

I haven't been keeping up with my blog lately; we were traveling in the US for my brother's wedding for a few weeks, took a couple of ferry boat trips out to M's parent's island for Christmas and New Year's, and now we're back to our wintry Swedish wonderland so I'll try to write more soon.

For now, all I have is the questionably-flavored ice cream I came across at the supermarket this evening:

I don't know where "wiener nougat" comes from, and I really don't want to speculate.  The additional nuts are not encouraging.

And with that, God Jul och Gott Nytt År everyone!!