The past few days have been far more eventful than we'd anticipated. We knew for a while that we would have dinner on Sunday with some very old friends from Yale. They are Swedish and the husband, who was only the boyfriend back in 2002, had some kind of semester-long visiting position while his girlfriend, now wife, stayed back in Sweden. It just happened that all of us wound up starting out at Yale at the same time, so he's been part of a certain circle of friends that's been in sporadic communication over the past decade. My husband and I hadn't seen him and his wife since the wedding of other members of that circle, back in 2004, which made it extremely bizarre yet paradoxically familiar and comfortable to find ourselves at their gorgeously laid dining table with three little kids arrayed around us. Man, the Swedes do comfort food well. (I suppose this is out of necessity considering the winters.) And they also do comfort ambience well. I was so impressed by the candles on the table even with the presence of two two-year-olds, and there was an open fire popping away in the fireplace.
Of course our hosts only had to cover it up with the screen when our American son started wandering over to it in fascination. Their two daughters (4 and 2) were completely nonchalant in the face of fire, glassware, real metal utensils and ceramic plates. And they ate the same stew and rice that we did, and the apple custard pie for dessert, whereas our little one ate his own special food that we brought for him (which has nothing to do with allergies--he just refuses to try new things unless the new thing is almost exactly like something he already likes, or is fruit). I don't think this is necessarily one of those European vs American differences--I think it has to do with the fact that I have found it difficult to press this as an issue because of the crazy number of transitions that the poor boy has had to undergo. But I do think it seems as though Europeans tend to encourage independence and the imitation of adult habits at a much earlier age. Anyway, we had a lovely time. S, my husband, read children's books to the girls in Swedish, and the kids seemed to get on well playing with Lego. That's always a relief, because isn't it the worst when the kids of your friends turn out to be terrors? I haven't actually had this happen with good friends, but with acquaintainces. It's a shame to meet a mom at the playground with whom you have a rapport, only to discover that you cannot stand the child.
Speaking of, on Monday O refused to go inside the open preschool again because he wanted to play in the adjacent playgrounds, so I have yet to see what sorts of activities are on offer and what the other parents are like. BUT! Monday was exciting because we found out that our shipment of furniture and other belongings had cleared customs and could be delivered as early as Tuesday if that's what we preferred. To which we replied, "Yes, please." On Tuesday, meaning yesterday, a flatbed truck arrived in front of our building with a gigantic shipping container on the back. All three of us had our faces to the window, watching this monster parallel park and then lower its platform directly above the sedan parked behind it. From our vantage point it absolutely looked as though they'd plopped the loading platform directly on top of this Toyota's hood, but apparently there were a few inches of clearance. (Still, if you owned that car, wouldn't you be furious?)
And then the unloading and unpacking began, and it was insane. We had paid for full-service, meaning a team in DC packed all our things for us, someone else dealt with getting it on a ship and clearing customs, and then a different team here drove it over to unpack it all and take away the boxes. They put our dining table back together (the legs had been unscrewed) and O's crib and our bed frame. They carried our sofa, which looked like a sofa-shaped paper sculpture, up two flights of winding stairs because it wouldn't fit in our tiny death trap elevator (remind me that I need to write a entire post about the elevators of Stockholm), and they spent a hilarious five or ten minutes trying to perfectly center our living room rug, which I don't believe strictly falls under their duties. They were really, really good. The DC team, on the other hand. Ugh. They didn't pack things well, so we ended up with breakage and other damage, and pieces/parts from one piece of furniture separated from the rest. We're reporting it, but overall the experience was good and I'd definitely go this route again as long as employers are footing the bill (or at least part of the bill) again.
Some art has been hung, all the furniture is essentially in the right place, but there is a lot of unpacking of small things (like books and more books) that is going to be tedious. And which will depend on the existence of bookshelves. Our old bookshelves in DC were junky, bowed IKEA things that probably wouldn't have survived the move, so we donated them. Unfortunately, without bookcases, I also can't artfully place my various frames, mementos and doodads. Kind of makes me wish I were a minimalist, but that will never happen. In fact, just today we went shopping for more stuff! Most of it was super practical: trash can, dish rack, tea lights. But I also bought paper napkins printed with giant strawberries (super cute and on sale!) and a new cushion for the living room that has a whimsical streetscape print of rowhouses reminiscent somewhat of Julia Rothman. I could not believe S went for that one since his preference would be a solid beige cushion, perhaps with beige piping. But he claimed it looked Scandinavian and therefore he liked it. (I think he just wanted to leave the store.)
The store, by the way, is my new favorite home store in the city. It's called Lagerhaus (which is German for "warehouse") and it's similar to the marketplace section of IKEA (meaning it doesn't sell any furniture), but its selection is more limited and it has much more funky and trendy stuff than basic stuff, though it has that too. And there's a yummy cafe attached, where we had lunch. I don't know if every branch has that but it was certainly convenient. So, kind of like a super mini IKEA, but smack in the center of the city on the busy pedestrian shopping street.
Ok, this post is getting ridiculously long, so I'll end by saying that we went to the tax office today and O and I are now one step closer to getting the Swedish equivalent of a Social Security Number. Tomorrow we take photos and give our fingerprints. How the hell are they going to do that with a two-year-old? I will let you know. And at some point I'll get up some before and after pics of the apartment. It was kind of gorgeous all empty, but it's good to have our things. Like I said, I'm no minimalist. (You can probably also tell from the length of this post.)
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