The ABC Diaries

The Famous Underwear Guy

2012-01-26T21:53:00.003+01:00

I never see anyone famous. If I bumped into them on the street, I wouldn't notice. In Sweden, I don't even know who the famous people are... and now that I have lived here so long, I don't even know who I should know in the US.

So I turn up for my Tuesday ladies tennis day, as usual. "Did you see?" someone asked. "What?" I reply. "Over there!" I look and nothing looks unusual - three courts of guys playing singles, just like every other Tuesday. "Björn Borg", she says, "playing with his son." So I look more closely. The two bald guys next to us? Nope... The next two bald guys? Doesn't seem right... And then the two guys with hair, one in a fluroescent yellow shirt (and if he didn't want to be noticed, he might have chosen white...). Yep, it was Björn Borg, long-ish hair and all.

I think I might have noticed if I had watched some of the serves. Unbelievable. I can't even imagine how one would receive such a serve. With me, it would surely involve bruising.

So I posted my status on Facebook, and told Annika, who was very impressed. "Cool - he makes underwear, doesn't he?" So I explained that now, his name is on a whole line of underwear, but a while back, he was a very famous tennis player, one of the best in the world, if not the best. "Really? Never heard of him."

Can't Win for Losing

2012-01-17T22:02:00.000+01:00

For our Christmas holidays, David likes to make sure that the family doesn't sit idle... and I agree, though I must admit that I am much more willing to spend long days reading by the pool than he is. But activity is good, and it gets us out and moving. This year, we booked sailing lessons and tennis lessons for the kids.

Sailing - Annika pitched a fit about the sailing lessons, claiming that she hated it, and would never again get on a small boat, after a cold-water experience in Sweden several years ago. After much bribery and cajoling, we convinced her to do the lessons, which she reluctantly admitted that she enjoyed.

Tennis - more drama - but she did do the one lesson we booked for her. And refused any more bookings.

Snorkeling - "I'm not going in the water." she stated. And left her mask and snorkel in the room, deliberately. We get to the snorkeling site... "Mamma, I want to use your mask and snorkel, not the ones in the boat." So who gets the boat issue? And who gets the really nice one I bought last year? Yeah... well... at least she got in the water.

So we threw our hands up in the air. Fine. Sit by the pool. Watch Nickelodeon or Disney. Play iPad. Text your friends.

One day later, Christopher is headed off for a tennis lesson. "Could you book one for me?" Annika asks, "I want to do something."

Lesson for next year? Book nothing the first four days. Then when she is bored of doing what she wants (nothing), she will be ready for other activities. We'll keep you posted...

The Last Puppy

2011-08-25T12:42:00.007+02:00

We finally decided that we wanted to get a family dog... and then we had to decide what KIND of dog. Annika and I poured over books and pictures and internet surveys, trying to decide. At first, I was partial to a pound puppy, but apparently they don't exist in Sweden (the few that are available are imported from Ireland). When I saw the puppy prices at breeders, I began to understand why - most are around $2000! Almost all breeders offer a buy-back clause, so that probably helps as well. Anyway, after much discussion, we finally decided that a brown lab would be best for us.

Timing was tight - we wanted to get a puppy at the end of the summer so that we would still be able to travel at Christmas without feeling guilty at missing some of the puppyhood. So I started looking at the kennel club website and the labrador club website... but there were just no puppies available. 39 litters born over the summer and not one puppy left.

Finally, I found two - a male that was a 10 hour drive away, and another male that was only 2 1/2 hours away... so we went for Teamvik's Dean, born on the 18th of June, close to Örebro, to mamma Alva. He had three brothers and a sister - Dallas, Dixon, Dylan and Doris.

Going back to the puppy books, all of them discussed what to look for in a puppy - the one that comes to you, the one that hangs back, the results of the puppy aptitude tests - but none of them discussed what to do if you didn't get a choice - if your puppy was the last one left.

So back to the e-mail again... and the breeder mentioned that Dean was the puppy we would get... but he was listed as "sold" on the kennel club website. Then while at the breeder's, well into the new puppy hugging process, the breeder admitted that Dean was actually sold to a couple, who came back after three days, exhausted, and gave him back.

So what kind of a puppy did we get? The last choice? Or the first choice reject?

All I can say is that I am typing this while he is sleeping next to me. I am tired after the first night, but mostly because I'm just not used to night-time potty runs. Puppy Dean was awesome - max 15 minutes of whining the first time he was put in his bed, then 5 minutes, and then none. The kids are extatic, David and I are thrilled, and we are looking forward to an enjoyable puppyhood. Yes, certain details still need to be worked out, but so far we're sure Dean is the puppy for us.

Now we just have to pick a name. The leading contenders right now are:

Bruno (which three of us like, but not the other two)
Mr. Ed (David's suggestion... but he once had a hamster named "Mamma hamster" so I'm not sure we should take his advice)
Pelle (Christopher's favorite, mostly because it is not Bruno)
James (as in James Dean, to go with his current kennel name)
Jimmy (as in Jimmy Dean...)

Just looking at him, I think the biggest challenge will be keeping him out of the Puppy Chow!

Double-Digits

2011-06-06T09:36:00.003+02:00

With both boys' birthdays in June - right in the middle of parties, picnics, and other end-of-the-school-year events, I sometimes get a bit behind in the planning. This year, we spent the 5-day "Christ goes up into heaven" Thursday/Friday and Sweden's National Day Monday holidays in Montana, hoping in vain for better weather than in Sweden. Benjamin's 10th birthday is today - the same day as Sweden's national day.

So on Wednesday, still in Sweden, I realized that we needed to get busy with the planning, so I raced out to Mörby Centrum and bought the hamster cage - for the hamster he will receive in August, after the summer holidays. The rest of the gifts I left for some Swiss shopping.

Bad idea.

Annika, Christopher and I finally had a moment alone to shop while David bribed Benjamin with a golf cart driving lesson (and a cash payment) to follow along on a round of golf. Sunday. The day before the big day. And everything is closed in Switzerland. We finally found the only open store in the whole area - the gas station rest stop on the motorway - and did the best we could. They actually had a pretty good selection, so we settled for...

Swiss-flag bag with Swiss pencils, a Swiss notebook, Swiss balloons and a Swiss cowbell (clearly catering to the tourists)
Magazines (in French, but the toys are the important part - Mario and Lego Atlantis)
Ping pong paddles
A couple of inexpensive flying toys
Birthday candles (clearly I'm not the only one who is bad at planning)

AND a party bomb. It promised that it would be ok indoors... but we did it outside, just in case. Lighting matches and placing them on our floors were just not quite what we had in mind. To great anticipation, we watched the fuse burn, and then a BOOM, the lid flew off, and a pile of toys flew about a foot in the air. Very exciting.

So what's new with 10? Not much. And he didn't seem to notice that the presents came from the roadside shop. The best toy by far? The balloons.

The TALK

2011-05-31T06:36:00.003+02:00

I remember that when I was in about 5th grade, the teachers took the girls aside and told us that if we had our "period" then we could use the "supplies" in the teachers' bathroom. I went home clueless, and had to ask my mom what it all meant. She handed me a series of books with pictures, and pretty much left me to it.

So now Annika is in the 5th grade, and the teachers took all the girls aside and spent a fair bit of time with them going over the whole thing. (I love it when the school does my job!) They saw a movie, learned how babies are made (pretty much NOT on the 5th grade curriculum in Texas) and compared "supplies". It was pretty exciting - as they passed around the tampons to look at, one girl fainted and they had to call the ambulance... so all in all, a memorable day.

Today's Higlight? The Hong Kong Rip-Off

2011-04-21T17:56:00.004+02:00

Years ago, when David and I were in Hong Kong, we asked the hotel to book us a nice tour. We were pleasantly surprised as we drove around the island - and we got a pretty good overview.... until the last hour. Then we stopped by a jewelry factory and showroom, so that we could see jewelry making for real. It actually is not that interesting - tiny details, and stuff that's pretty hard to see. But after 5 minutes of factory, we then spent 55 minutes in the showroom, being followed everywhere by helpful salespeople. When we split up, the salespeople had a hard time deciding who to follow - it got to be amusing.

So today, we had a half-day tour of Istanbul - Haga Sofia, Blue Mosque, underground cistern... and just when I thought we were headed for either the spice market or a quick snack stop, we turned in to a pottery shop and were immediately ushered to the back for a pottery demonstration and participation workshop. No purchases required. But lots of apple tea, coffee - anything we wanted - and since all three kids got to make pots, the shop was guaranteed to have our full attention for 90 minutes, plus a return trip two days later to pick up the dried pots.

Of course, when we asked the kids what was the best part of the day today... and nothing cultural even made the list. Benjamin picked swimming, but Annika and Christopher were convinced that the pottery thing was the highlight.

The Universal Language of Football

2011-04-21T07:25:00.006+02:00

David was in Barcelona last week, and brought Christopher a Barcelona team shirt (with Puyol on the back). Christopher was thrilled- and has been wearing the shirt now for at least 5 days in a row.

When we landed in Istanbul, and were walking through the "taxi greeters", one turned to Christopher and said, "Barcelona - Messi?" "No, Puyol", Christopher replied with a smile.

When we got to the hotel, all of the staff made a point of speaking with Christopher - Barcelona was scheduled to play that evening, and everyone wanted his opinion on the match against Real Madrid.

The next day, as we walked through Istanbul, Christopher received many comments and discussions - about Puyol who couldn't play because of a bad knee, of the loss Barcelona had suffered the night before to Real Madrid (1-0 in overtime), about his views of Messi...

So the take-home tip - buy your kid a football jersey before an international trip!

Quoteables from Christopher

2011-04-20T07:32:00.004+02:00

"When I get 18 I'm gonna buy a credit card."

"Do I get to have two girlfriend" "No, only one." "Why?"

then he thinks about it... "I know. If some people has two girlfriends then that means that some people don't get to have any - and that's not fair."

And right now, everything startes with a statement, followed by "I say why?"

I love 7!

How Long Will This Go On?

2011-04-05T22:47:00.003+02:00

I was looking over past photos the other day, and I realized how often I dressed the kids alike (or at least in the same fabrics) when we were travelling. Italy in red and white checks... Colorado in red-white-and-green stripes... July 4th in Navy with red and blue stripes...

Now it seems as though I am relegated to underwear. The kids would never be seen wearing the same things again... or rather, Annika would never be caught dead wearing the same as her brothers. But when I saw the long underwear on sale at the local sporting goods store, I couldn't resist. And not a single protest!

Bored and Frustrated

2011-04-05T22:39:00.002+02:00

We went skiing over sportlov, and Annika was broadsided by an adult snowboarder (while snowboarding herself). The instructor wisely called an end to her lesson, and she came home complaining of a pain in her neck and head. Fearing whiplash, I called the local doc and we went in. He reviewed the x-rays, and then immediately put her in the x-ray room again - the neck was fine, but he picked up a fracture in her collarbone. (Many, many thanks for the wisdom of the instructor who refused to let her snowboard some more!)

So... three weeks of no sports. No football. No riding. She started blogging, taking pictures, playing guitar - and wore the figure-8 brace for the full three weeks. And watched TV. And was very bored.

Three weeks to the day, she was back in the saddle again. Riding on Wednesday. Riding on Friday... and then she got cocky and decided to trot on the home stretch. Lupin bucked twice and she only managed to hold on through the first buck. She landed on her back (and head) and came home complaining of a headache. When the headache didn't get better on Saturday, and when she elected to spend the day in bed in a dark room, we realized that she probably had a concussion.

So Sunday evening she is asking me if she really has to go to school, since moving around makes her head hurt more, and makes her feel sick. But can she ride in her jumping class on Tuesday? So I respond with the logical if-you-can't-sit-at-a-desk-what-makes-you-think-you-should-sit-on-a-horse argument. "But I won't fall" she insisted. "Really?" I say. "So you planned to fall off Lupin?" And she thinks about it for a second, then looks me in the eye. "Yes, I did."

Attack of the Giant Tomatoes

2011-03-29T15:38:00.003+02:00

"Mom, if it come-ed a big tomato..." says Christopher. And here I am, imagining vegetable attacks... But then I realize that he really means "tornado" and that no matter how many times I correct him, it's still tomato...

So at dinner the other night, Christopher looks up sadly. "Ronaldinho is dead," he says. "What?" David and I look at each other, wondering if we have missed the news lately - that something has happened to one of the best football/soccer players...

"Why do you think he's dead?" we ask.

"Cause he's a lim-ah-dission," he says. "Lim-ah-dission?"

And then we realize that Christopher's latest passion, collecting football cards, has inspired this conversation, and Ronaldinho is indeed a Limited Edition... but not dead.

Swiss Fondue

2011-02-27T10:00:00.003+01:00

We come to Switzerland - the French-speaking part - and the kids don't like the food. How can that be? David and I go crazy for the French bread... but the kids think the crust is too hard. David and I look forward to mornings at the bakery - pain au chocolat and chausson aux pommes... but the kids would really prefer Swedish cinnamon rolls.

But now, finally, finally - there's something here that at least one of the kids likes. Yes, Annika likes fondue (and raclette). So we will celebrate the fact that at least one of our children actually likes at least one dish from somewhere south of Malmö!

A String of Letters

2011-02-24T22:31:00.003+01:00

and most of them NOS.

I haven't written so much about the difficulties Benjamin has been having lately... I guess I wasn't really sure where to start. But he hasn't really been happy, and wasn't making progress at his school. So after thorough investigations on both sides of the Atlantic, he now has a diagnosis, of sorts. But the letters all seem to roll together.

ADHD - is the first and clear winner. Or ADD since the H isn't so clear. This one we're all sure about, and his impulsivity, distractability and creativity make it a sure thing.

PDD-NOS (or GUS-UNS in Swedish) - for Pervasive Development Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified (and just to show that I know what it is here - Genomgripande Utvecklingsstörning - Utan Närmare Specifikation). This one we're less sure of, but it places him somewhere on the Autistic spectrum, closer to Aspergers, but not really... just imagine somewhere under a very large umbrella of social challenges. If you take his fantasy stories as a specific interest, then he probably falls out somewhere on the spectrum... but exactly where is a matter of debate.

Mood disorder - not otherwise specified - is the other part. He hasn't been truly happy for a long time, and hasn't found an interest in a while - other than TV. I wish it was easier - we have two children who are surprised at how wonderful their lives are, and one who is the opposite. What to do...

So somewhere in ADD-ADHD-PDD-NOS-land we have to find a way to enjoy our lives as a family. Some initial thoughts...

I have never been happier with my marriage and my husband. Every book I read has a chapter about marital relations, and though this is challenging, David's wisdom and willingness to see things from other perspectives... well, I can't imagine how lucky I am to have found him, and how thankful I am that he is my husband (13 years now).
Sweden's system takes some sorting out, and the motivations and goals are not at all like what I would imagine private practice to be. We're working on it.
Benjamin has changed school - hopefully for the better. Somehow, a school with 1:1 ratios should be fantastic. But he's still not reading, nor does he see the need.
We're working down the pharmaceutical chain - and I now know more brand names and active ingredients than I ever expected.

So wish us luck - it is bound to be a bumpy ride...

It's Just a Word...

2011-02-24T22:10:00.002+01:00

Christopher's calm, first grade class has been in an uproar. Apparently, someone has written "Jävla unga" in the book of one of his classmates, a girl called T. And not once, but several times.

I had to ask Annika for a translation - to me, the words sound like something a cranky old man would say about noisy kids on the block -"Damn brats" or something like that. But no. It's worse. More like F*** Y*** in Swedish.

So you see, I can write the Swedish words in my blog with no problems, but don't dare to write the English. The English ones are more "loaded" for me, and the Swedish ones are just a string of letters.

So back to the class... At first, they thought it was the older kids coming in while the first graders were at recess. But the last 2-3 times, the writing has been - shall we say - different, and at a time when nobody else could have come in to the class. So who sits at T's table? You got it - Christopher. Could this possibly be my child? I did wonder... and then two things happened -

1) C wants to have a playdate. "Let's do something new" he says. "I want to play with T." Strange, since he never plays with girls.

2) And then C's teacher corners me today, to say that she thinks he is responsible, since he always turns his Js the wrong way, and since he has a kind of "flirty" relationship with T. Oh S***.

So now all of the parents are up in arms, the investigations are ongoing, and the teacher is still somewhat mystified. And my sweet little boy, the one who - truthfully - probably has no idea what the words mean... Will this follow him through his whole school career?

Do I really think he did it? I truthfully don't think so the first time... or the second. He was entirely too clueless to really come up with something like that. Maybe I'm naive, but I just can't see it. However, could he have done it later? I'm afraid so.... How to approach this topic...

And coming back to the words, Annika now has a blog - tha gleek hess - and in case you are wondering, no, it doesn't mean anything other than she likes Glee and horses (hence the name hess for häst in Swedish). So tonight she informs me that she is trying to write for a more adult audience, so she has decided to throw in the word "jävla" every so often to spark interest.

So F***. Are you more interested now? (and no, I still couldn't bring myself to write the word...)

A Flash from the Past

2011-01-01T01:27:00.003+01:00

Last January, we ended our Christmas holiday with a few days in San Francisco. We stopped by the Matheson's house in Palo Alto - and were treated to a great welcome and dinner. They even managed to snap a family photo as we walked in, and sent it to me last week. I lost a bunch of photos in a hard drive crash in March, so it was extra special to get this one!

Sentence Excitement

2010-10-23T13:23:00.002+02:00

Christopher is writing sentences - he wrote two by himself this morning and was so proud of himself. Unfortunately, they got thrown in the trash and covered in pasta sauce, so I can't scan them in... but they are:

CHRistoPHER NEiL har EN GroDa i handen.

(Christopher Neil has a frog in his hand.)

and...

NEiL VEL ha EN jqaD

(which should have been "Neil vill ha en gepard" or "Neil wants a lepoard." but gepard got a bit confused in the sounding out process... and then the "p" got a bit turned around.)

First grade is fun!

From Their Perspective

2010-10-03T08:27:00.005+02:00

We were in Yosemite at the end of July, and in the lobby of our hotel was a group of people filming the "Oh, Ranger! Story Tour". They were going to 10 national parks, using macs to film peoples' impressions of what they had seen. I thought it would be fun for the kids... but legally the adults had to be in the video as well. So the whole family crowded in a little tent, in front of a MacBook Pro, and talked about our tour of the park with Ranger Ralph.

It took several weeks for them to post the video, but finally it's here.

Yosemite Tour with ABCD&L

While I was in London...

2010-09-27T22:36:00.004+02:00

I went to London for 4 amazing days - a pretty sophisticated hen party weekend for Mariam, several weeks before her wedding to Fred.

Of course, before I left, I managed to sign the kids up for the Lilla Lidingöloppet, a 1,7 km course just for kids. We were invited to run by Christopher's soccer-football-running team, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. But in practice, managing three kids with three different starting times, not to mention picking up the numbers in advance, took some serious coordination. Calle, our neighbor, helped out - and with one adult stationed at the start, and one at the finish, it appears to have gone smoothly... though I'm guessing that the picture makes it seem more effortless than it truly was. But in any case, all three ran, finished and received medals - the important bit.

What Happens When I'm Not There...

2010-09-27T22:32:00.003+02:00

So I pick up my camera to take some pictures, and flip through some old ones. And what do I find but 20 (!) pictures of Benjamin's on-line catch. No "ones that got away" or "ones that were THIS big" - here we have proof of the virtual fish he managed to snag on the web.

And I wondered why my memory card was getting full....

What You Say... and What They Hear

2010-09-22T22:24:00.000+02:00

Christopher loves his calendar and the idea of being organized. He was sitting beside me, writing in his activities...

"Fffff", he says, and then writes "F".

"Eeee" he continues, and writes "e".

"P" he sounds out a few times, and then writes "P".

"Look, Mama" he says. "Is that right?"

"FeP", I say, somewhat puzzled.

"Yep - 'cause I have FEP-ball tomorrow. Right?"

And where, in the whole scheme of things, did he miss the connection between his favorite sport and the FOOT?

Queen Annika

2010-09-20T22:46:00.001+02:00

I'm not sure when it happened... when my daughter became royalty, and me a mere servant...

"Mamma," I hear on the phone at 4 pm, "I am going to pick mushrooms with my class tomorrow, and I MUST have new rainboots."

"OK..." I say, "I can pick you up and take you to Mörby Centrum in a few minutes..."

"But Mamma," she replies, using my least favorite name, "I'm playing with Malla right now. Just buy me up a pair in size 36."

Right. Not a chance.

So the next morning comes, and she doesn't have any boots... only her Converse basketball shoes, which she doesn't want to get wet. So she finds last year's pair, and deems them to be adequate to the task.

1.30 pm. The phone rings.

"Mamma", I hear, with crying, "I'm at home... My feet really hurt and I CAN'T GET MY BOOTS OFF"

I hate to report that at that point I was laughing too hard to be able to respond appropriately. And my amusement at the situation was not appreciated...

1.35 pm. The phone rings.

"Mamma", Annika says, somewhat accusingly, "We don't need these boots anymore, do we?"

"Nah, not really," I reply. "They're a bit too girly to give to the boys."

"Good." she says, "because I cut them off with scissors."

Birthday Morning II... and Gympa

2010-09-13T22:52:00.004+02:00

Am I a bad listener? I do try... but last week we got a message from Christopher's gym teacher that he has not been changing clothes for gym class - a new thing for a first grader.

The first time, he didn't like my choice (since I wouldn't let him wear his football outfit) so he refused. The second time, he said he "forgot" even though the clothes (same ones) were there. The third time, he said he didn't have time. I tried to talk to him, but he doesn't see the point in changing - if he can play bandy on the playground in his jeans, why not bandy in gym class in his jeans?

So yesterday, I reminded Christopher that it was gympa tomorrow (thursday) and he needed to change clothes. "No gympa tomorrow..." he said. "Yes, it's Thursday, and you have gympa, " I responed. "No" "Yes" "No" and finally I got him to agree that IF he had gympa, THEN he would change clothes.

So this morning, after birthday preparations and celebrations, plus a nutritious breakfast of chocolate covered bananas, I reminded Christopher about gympa. "I don't have gympa today," he said, "BECAUSE we are going on a field trip... AND I have to bring a lunch." Panic. Chaos.

And thankfully, we had some pasta in the fridge, plus a few scrawny meatballs that I could warm up for him. "Not a great lunch, kiddo" I said, guiltily. "It's OK mom," he replied.

Birthday Morning

2010-09-09T22:43:00.001+02:00

This morning, I woke up officially 45 years old. Sounds so old... but I'm not - really.

David was out of town, so Benjamin crawled in bed with me about 5. At 6.15, I hit the showers, and Benjamin came in... sleepy, frustrated that the toilet seat wouldn't do his bidding, and angry. I said that it was my birthday - couldn't he destroy the toilet another day? And he gave it some thought...

"Go back to bed, Mom," he said, "and pretend you didn't see me."

So I did. And I listened. Christopher was cranky as usual, and started kicking up his morning fuss... but then got quiet. I never heard Annika. After 10 or so minutes, I snuck out and saw only empty beds. So I crawled back into mine.

Time went on... and I heard nothing. Finally, 20 minutes later, I heard the "flame thrower" in action, just outside the bedroom door... and the kids came in singing with their surprise - chocolate covered bananas with birthday candles (4, not 45). Annika had created the chocolate sauce from scratch (cocoa, sugar, vanilla and who knows what else) and Benjamin licked the bowl. Each of them had created a card - Benjamin's was a pop-up chair with a heart on it, the most creative of the lot. They whispered for an instant about presents, but I said I knew that we would do them later, when Papa was home.

And then we enjoyed our bananas... and kicked the morning into gear...

(No pics...)

The World Cup of the Tiny People

2010-08-23T06:31:00.002+02:00

Christopher's team of 03-boys participated in their first tournament yesterday. They are a tiny team - both in height and number, and it was a bit touch and go on whether they would have enough boys to field a 5-man team. 7 is pretty much the minimum, but they made do with 6 in the first two matches, and then Oscar H joined them for the third.

Their "world cup" team ended up being pretty international... Christopher (an American born in Sweden) and Ziggy (a Swede born in America) were just a start. They also had Juan-chi (from Argentina), Borg (from Holland), Balash (from Hungary), Kanto (from Japan) - and of course, Oscar, the only true Swede.

The first game, they started off 0-2 in the first minutes. We were a bit worried... until they came back and pulled off a 4-2 win. The second game went much better, and they really came together as a team. It did get a bit embarrassing when the final score was 17-1... and aside from Kanto (the amazing goalie), every boy scored at least one goal. Christopher scored 3 goals! By the third game, they were a bit tired, but they still managed a 10-0 win. (David and Kanto's father were drafted in to coach the final match - and did a great job!)

The practices really came into the game - they have been working on positions and not just playing "every-kid-after-the-ball" football. And we parents found that we were cheering more for the passing and assists than for the actual goals.

Well done, team - and awesome job, Christopher!

The Stickiness of Som and Fast

2010-08-22T22:35:00.000+02:00

Christopher has such a hard time making the transition between English and Swedish. He is now 7, and still manages to rarely say a sentence correctly in English. "Som" (which, who, that) and "fast" (except, but) slip into his English and refuse to be corrected. He also says such charming things. "Mamma, right..." he says before he launches into a lengthy description of some scientific reality, from his perspective.

I decided to write down a few of his more charming turns of phrase:

When asking about his upcoming soccer tournament - "Mamma, when is the World Cup of the Tiny People?"
On the function of a hairbrush - "You know when your hair stick together and make it really fat - this is for like breaking them."
On death - "When I die, am I like dead for my whole entire life? Is that bad?"