Visa... It's everywhere you want to be?

There’s a reason why pregnant women shouldn’t ride rollercoasters. Literally, you get jolted about and dragged along for the ups and downs, the sudden starts, stops, and drops. The emotional rollercoaster I was on last week felt much the same. Our visas are in limbo, and the coordinators at SAAB are trying to figure out what to do with us. As with most bureaucratic processes, the information available is murky and difficult to decipher. First, we were told, we would have to leave the EU for ten days and return to Sweden, or take a weekend trip outside of Sweden and then re-enter, or leave Sweden and return home to wait for our visas to be approved before returning, or apply for an interim tourist visa and stay in the country. It is a hassle for the company and emotionally draining for me.

It took most of the week for SAAB to verify what I learned on Wikipedia: if our visas are not approved we have to leave the European Union after 90 days (November 18) and wait to return when they are approved. After pleading with the migration services board, our visa application, for which an expedited processing request was originally denied, has been approved. However, since SAAB should have had our visas processed and approved before we even entered the country the embassy will not stamp our passports while we remain in Sweden.

In all honesty, I was hoping that these visa shenanigans were part of an elaborate, divine plan for God to get me home for Thanksgiving. While trying very hard to maintain some realistic expectations, I began trolling the Lufthansa website for three roundtrip tickets from Gothenburg to Orlando. Obviously, SAAB doesn’t want to spend $3000 so I can nosh on roasted turkey, mashed potatoes drenched in gravy, and a hearty slice of pumpkin pie slathered in whipped cream. (What?  I’m three months pregnant.  Food is kind of a big deal right now.  Don’t judge me.)

The current compromise is this: SAAB is sending us to Copenhagen. The plan is, if we go to Copenhagen for a few days, we can visit the Swedish Embassy office sometime between touring castles and spending too much money at the Lego store and get our visas stamped into our passports. All in all, it’s not a bad deal. We wanted to visit Copenhagen during our time here anyway and we were even hoping to go in November, so to be able to go without using up Matt’s vacation time or having to pay for our lodging is a very generous blessing.

Even with an exciting trip to plan, it is hard to start another week in Sweden. As much as I miss the food that I’m used to, being able to walk outside without bulky layers, and the freedom of my driver’s license and a full tank of gas; it’s my family and friends that I long to see. I can’t deny that part of me is still hoping our visas won’t be processed while we’re in Copenhagen and we’ll have to make a last minute dash to the land of the free and the home of the brave.

I can’t say for sure what God’s plan holds for our family, but I know that no matter where we are, he will be also… And I know I can trust him to take good care of us.

Light

I am consoling myself with candy corn that arrived this morning in box number I-can’t-even-keep-track-anymore from my parents. It seems that my move to Sweden will result in a financial bailout of the US Postal Service singlehandedly financed by my parents. Usually receiving a package from home is the highlight of my month, but today I find myself feeling melancholy even after tearing into the box like the birthday girl who’s had too much cake.

My mom is such a thoughtful person. Everything about receiving a box from home reminds me of her.  Her careful print addressing the box in bold black marker, the maternity pants that she washed before sending so I wouldn’t have more laundry to do, the cheery card with a happy puppy on the front, pumpkin spice candles because she knows how much I love them. She knows me. And I miss her. As I try not to cry into my laptop, my ever-sensitive daughter is wiping at my tears and hugging her delicate arms around my neck.

I have so much to be thankful for, starting with my compassionate little girl, my caring parents, a husband who is dedicated to his family and diligent at work. I have a sturdy roof over my head, clothing to keep me warm, and food in the pantry. I have the freedom in my relationship with the God who is above all things and assurance that he will hear and answer my prayers. As the days become shorter I resolve to focus on these things; they bring light into my dark days.

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About a year ago, my small group at First Baptist Church of Oviedo encouraged us to take a Spiritual Gifts Survey to see how we can best serve the church. My results were interesting, but not surprising, ranking highest in administration, teaching, and hospitality. If you’ve spent much time with me, you’re probably grinning as you read this. I have an unusual affection for spreadsheets and checklists, I actually enjoyed (and sometimes miss) teaching middle school English for five years, and nothing makes me happier than planning a party, hosting girls’ night, or having friends over (for cupcakes, of course).

I was overjoyed to use my talents at planning to prepare my home for our first set of visitors. Matthew’s grandmother, mother, and youngest sister came to visit for a week in October. A mundane grocery list takes on a higher calling when you’re planning meals for family you haven’t seen in months!

Top on our list of sights is Stadsparken, the city park across from our house. The trees are ablaze with red and gold autumn leaves, something my Florida eyes can’t seem to get used to. We also explored the nearby city of Gränna (population: 2600, about half the size of my high school!) where peppermint rock, locally known as polkagris, was invented.

Gracie and GG (Great Grandma) playing with the iPad

Peekaboo!



Joy in Gränna



Though our time passed altogether too quickly we enjoyed sharing our new home and acquaintances with them. Gracie loved having new people to play with during the day and I enjoyed having some extra time for a nap! I hope these pictures have encouraged you to book your visit at Villa Furulid.  We would love to have you stay with us!  And I promise to make some tasty food while you’re here!

Breakfast included!

Dinner is also included (We're practically a resort!)

SURPRISE!!!

My very favorite mom and dad are celebrated their thirtieth wedding anniversary this week.  I'm sure all kids say this when their parents reach a major milestone like this, but I can't think of two people who have better demonstrated love, patience, humor, forgiveness, and determination throughout their years together. I am so thankful for the work they have put into making their marriage an example of how rewarding a Christ centered relationship can be.

My parents are smart enough to realize what an accomplishment it is to spend three decades together so they celebrated by taking a dream trip to Europe. Seizing the opportunity, Gracie and I booked two tickets from Gothenburg to Frankfurt to surprise them for the last few days of their trip.

Now, I want to take a minute here to try to convince you that I’m not bragging.  I mean, yes, it is undeniably awesome to be able to buy a dirt cheap ticket and hop a ninety minute flight to Germany.  But, what I want you to realize is that this is completely out of character for me. I’m not a brave person. Taking a two-year-old through not one, but TWO airports where I don’t speak the native language and have to rely on cave painting graphics just to find a bathroom is intimidating to me.  As is airport security, hoping that my luggage won’t get lost, and praying to a kind and merciful God that the aforementioned toddler won’t completely lose it during the flight. This is how desperate I was to see my parents.

Lufthansa has pretty good food on their flights...

My worries were, as usual, completely unfounded. We landed in Frankfurt without incident and my father (and partner in crime) was waiting outside baggage claim with my very excited mother. I can’t describe how overjoyed I was to see my parents after all this time, but if I were filming a reality TV show there would have been plenty of tears to document.

We spent three wonderful days together exploring Schweinfurt and Rothenberg in the somewhat warmer weather, enjoying delicious German food, and the company of Gracie’s great-great-grandmother.  It has been so important to me that my Granny and Gracie would meet, and I am thankful that our move to Sweden and its close proximity to Germany helped make that possible. My sweet Elisabeth Grace is proudly named after my Granny, the youngest of five generations in my family currently living with Elisabeth (or Elizabeth) in our name.

Gracie thought this was a princess castle.

Is there anything better than a fresh German pastry?

Ok, we had some American food too...

It turns out they both love Angry Birds

If you can't act like an idiot with your parents, when can you?



Four out of five generations of Elisabeths.  Gracie is seated next to her Great-Great-Grandmother!

 The trip was delightful and the whole scheme was a success; mom was surprised when she arrived at the airport, and then surprised again when I told my parents that I will be having another baby in May! What a relief to finally be able to share this happy news with my parents! Knowing that I would be able to tell them in person was the only thing that kept my lips sealed for three long weeks.  And now that YOU know, dear readers, I ask you to join us in prayer for this precious child. Please pray for healthy development for the baby, energy for me, and that we will continually put our family in God’s ever-capable, loving, and merciful hands.

A Good Excuse

My dear readers, I have failed you.  I really try to update my blog on a weekly basis, but it just hasn't happened this month.  Here's why:

1. Gracie no longer takes naps during the day. While a 2-3 hour afternoon nap allows me to do things like update my blog and eat Pringles without being stalked, it also means the girl is up until after eleven at night, and that's unacceptable.

2. I fall asleep by 10. Now that Gracie goes to bed at a reasonable hour, so do I. It's delightful. You should try it.

3. I left the country. Have passport, will travel.  My parents were in Germany, and I couldn't let a little thing like an 90 minute flight keep me from seeing them. I'll tell you all about it in my next post... in a week or so.

A Little Potty Humor

During the past two weekends we’ve stayed close to home to explore a bit of the local attractions Jönköping and neighboring Huskvarna (the city where Matt works) have to offer.  While we enjoyed what we saw and I took lots of beautiful pictures to share, I’m just too tired to write a sufficient description for you, so I’m saving them for another week.

My exhaustion is due in small part to the nonstop work that is potty training.  After several conversations with fellow MOPS moms (oh, how I miss MOPS!) that were simultaneously laugh-out-loud funny and distressing, we decided to go with the bare-bottom method.  Of course, this helped initiate the timing of our adventure; if I’m going to have a half-naked rugrat running around the living room I have to do it before it gets too cold. 

After surprisingly few accidents, and virtually no prompting from me, Gracie is now able to determine when she needs to use the potty and get herself there in time to do so.  Our quick success is due in part to a savvy real estate negotiation.  We now have a hot pink princess potty adorning the center of our living room.  But, better a plastic potty that a puddle, right? 

We’re also moving on to thinner and prettier butt-covers.  Why wear unflattering Pampers with that telltale sag when you have a drawer full of princess panties to coordinate with every outfit?  And yes, they have to match the outfit or she won’t wear them.

Eventually we’ll get to the point where we’re living totally diaper free, but we’re still not quite brave enough to leave the house without some assurance of absorbency.  Diapers also still show up at naptime (Why? She naps on a white couch!) and bedtime.  But cutting down to two or three a day is doing wonders for my budget.  Gracie may yet have a shot at a college fund.

Though it sounds silly to ask, please pray for perseverance and patience for both Gracie and myself. It’s exhausting and exciting watching your little one grow up, and it does funny things to the way your brain works.  I leave you with this incredibly inept parody that I’m sure makes Robert Frost turn over in his grave.

Whose seat this is I think I know.
It sits beside the TV, though;
She will not go in the bathroom
Where toilets flush and water flows.

My neighbors all must think it queer
To see my daughter’s little rear
Dancing naked inside my house
But it’s a sight I find quite dear.

The seat is plastic, pink, and bright,
And though a decorator’s blight,
If she will use it, it’s alright,
If she will use it, it’s alright.

My House the Mathnasium

We moved to Sweden just after Central Florida kids bemoaned the end of summer and started a new school year.  This means that my last week at home was spent, by and large, removing tutoring advertisements hanging from my front door and dodging rowdy kids fresh off the afternoon school bus on my way to collect the mail. One of the more amusing (and persistent, arriving via the door and the mail box) advertisements we received was for Mathnasium.  Apparently math can be fun AND make sense. While I’ve never struggled with math as a subject (I do have twelve credit hours of calculus tacked on to my English Language Arts Education degree) I can’t say I’ve ever classified it as fun either.

I find myself using math all too frequently here, an occurrence that I find both annoying and amusing.  To date, I have no idea how much I’m paying for gas; Swedish Kroner per liter requires not only figuring out the current exchange rate, but also how many liters are in a gallon.  Too much calculating for me, I’ll just wait for an unpleasant little surprise on my credit card statement. And cooking, which I used to find relaxing, now feels like a chemistry experiment. For starters, I didn’t even realize my liquid measuring cup had gradations in deciliters. And setting the oven is like a game of Russian roulette. 

Oh, United States, I blame you for this. I understand that change is difficult, but if you had only tried a little harder back when Congress passed the Metric Conversion Act of 1975 before giving up on your carefully planned decade-long transition, my personal transition to Sweden would have been so much simpler.  If I had grown up in a world where temperatures were measured in Celsius rather than Fahrenheit, liquid volume in liters rather than cups, and weight in kilograms instead of pounds, I might actually be able to blend in as a European. The last time I had to think in metric was for my AP Physics class, a good eleven years ago.  Now, I am left desperately grasping my cellphone, woefully reliant upon my ConvertPad app (a fantastic free Android app) just to figure out the temperature and how much cucumbers cost. 

It’s not all bad though. I enjoy seeing my weight in kilograms (I see kilos, but think pounds) and my computer is courteous enough to display the week’s weather in Fahrenheit so I can plan accordingly. My attempts at estimation are getting faster and more accurate, so I’m actually spending only slightly more at the grocery store here than I did in the states.  And I’m still really good at counting. Today Gracie and I counted at least thirty ducks in the pond, we got two cards in the mail, and I baked one plum cake.

And, for those of you counting along at home, we left Florida exactly one month ago. At this rate, I’ll be back to ounces, teaspoons, and miles per gallon before I know it!

How to make a two-year-old happy.