Life in 2018

It was three years ago this month, as we were living comfortably in San Diego, that Johan told me he was interviewing for a job in Toronto and leaving for the interview in a couple of days. I said "Say what?" and asked him why he hadn't mentioned this interview to me before. He reminded me that just weeks prior, I had told him to quit telling me about all the recruiters/headhunters who would call him from various cities asking him if he'd be interested in a new position. I wasn't interested in moving, so I told him I didn't want to hear about a position in, say, Boston, unless he was absolutely serious about it. He was serious about Toronto. I told him there was probably no way I'd be interested in moving there (where was it, anyways?), but good luck with the interview. One week later, our entire family was on a plane flying to Toronto to check out the city before making a final decision to move. I had a good feeling after the trip, but I still didn't want to move. We had just bought and remodeled our house in San Diego, lived on an amazing street with tons of kids and great neighbors, we had an amazing tight knit church family....why should we leave? We prayed a lot about it. I prayed a lot about it. And when I still had no peace about a decision, I remember what my wise girlfriend, Ella, told me: Maybe I should just submit to my husband's decision. So I did. I told Johan that if this was what he really wanted to do, then I was on board. And you know what? As soon as that happened, my heart totally changed. I WAS on board. I got excited and willing and had no ill feelings about it. We both became unified in knowing this was simply a new phase in our lives that God wanted to take us through. And it's been amazing, and challenging, and we will never be the same because of it.

Fast forward three years to now, and we are about 4 weeks away from meeting Axel's little brother! We have amazing neighbors and are so happy with Axel's school. Axel is in love with pretty much all sports, and is at some time or another involved in hockey, skiing/snowboarding, soccer, baseball, track and field, tennis, basketball, and even golf. I put him in select hockey this year because I was pregnant and knew I wouldn't be able to take him skiing every week like we've done the past two winters. He loves hockey, however, skiing and snowboarding are his favorites. I did sign him up for a performance ski group just 40 minutes from our house on Saturdays, which he loves. After his first day, the ski instructor came up to me with huge eyes and said "that kid belongs in ski racing, he's amazing." I pointed to my belly and said I would love him to be in racing, but with a baby coming, that wasn't going to happen. In any case, my real selfish goal with putting him in an advanced ski group is that soon he'll be as good as or better than both Johan and me, so we can all go skiing together. We already have done that in past seasons, but Axel was always just a little bit slower than us. 

So we are now into the six year old phase. I will say that it has gotten steadily easier since he turned three, which was the worst. One amazing thing that happened this year was that Axel became excited about reading and writing, and has become so much better at each. We couldn't even bribe him to do either until he started 1st grade this year. Now he has read all of the latest Dog Man books, and loves trying to re-write them word for word, and draw the photos as well. He also loves art (which I'm happy about :). He loves drawing and painting, and sometimes we do projects together. This year we made our own gingerbread house from scratch. 

However, now at 6 years old, there are real conversations, but also real life problems that we talk about, like bullying, the angst and anger that comes from the complexity of relationships that 6 year olds don't totally understand, or kids cursing and calling eachother names. This happens on a regular basis on the playground as competitive boys navigate regulating their own soccer games, rules, teams, etc. Axel pretty much knows all the basic curse words by now from school, and has been called plenty of them, and has used a couple of them himself (as I've been told by his teacher). The first time his teacher told me he'd used the F word at a kid at school, I was so mad I told him we were going home to wash his mouth out with soap then he was going to bed. When I got home, we told Johan about it, and he was so relaxed and nonchalant about it, I started becoming the mean crazy wife. How could he not care?? How was this not a big deal that our six year old was cursing like a sailor at school?? I had to calm myself down first, and we all decided that Axel would have to skip his evening tv time instead of washing his mouth out. "BUT IF YOU EVER SAY THAT WORD AGAIN, it's soap time..." I warned him. It might also help to mention that this happened right after we watched A Christmas Story about Ralphie, who says the F word in front of his dad and gets his mouth washed out with soap, then imagines he goes blind to punish his parents. So Axel did threaten to go blind if I did go through with the mouth washing. But it hasn't happened again, so maybe my threats worked.

But, in general, I feel like, at least Axel, at six years old, is so full of attitude and independent strong will. Go ahead and laugh, because when has he NOT been strong willed and independent. But this is different because he's getting older and actually having to make his own decisions. When the weather is warmer he usually walks to school. But he's not allowed to arrive until a teacher is on yard duty, so we have a set time when he can leave the house. however, one day he decided he wanted to go to school a half hour early because he wanted to be the first one there to play soccer, as the kids normally play before school. I told him it was against the rules because there would be no one there on yard duty, but he fought and fought me. I finally said "Okay, but you're going to get in trouble". I was still in my pajamas so I got dressed and drove to school several minutes later to check on him. Lo and behold, the principal saw him outside the school before hours and made him come in and sit in her office until the yard duty teacher went outside. The teachers all told me what Axel had done and I was so embarrased. But my only response was "this was probably the only way he was going to listen and learn". And it did work, he never did it again. Just today I tried to convince him to put on gloves before going to school because it's -3 C outside and just snowed 6 inches last night. How was he going to play in the snow without gloves? He refused, so I let it be. But I had to tell him that if his fingers get cold, I was not going to drive his gloves to school for him. The same thing goes for wearing socks, or a beanie, or even underwear for crying out loud! We've just had to let certain things go. HOWEVER, he has learned his lesson in refusing to shower. He's gotten a couple of staph infections because of not showering after hockey. Trying to get the kid to bathe or shower when he's not in the mood is like trying to throw a cat in a pool. He'll death grip the nearest doorway or permanent object until you give up because no one is stronger than Axel when he's being forced to do something he doesn't want to do (well, I'm a close second). But after the painful staph infections, we have a little more leverage to get him to shower after hockey. Not every day, but at least after hockey. We can live with that. 

Johan has been working super hard this past year. He was put in charge of an Investigational New Drug (IND) application, which includes submitting a cancer drug that his company created to the US FDA to be approved for clinical trials. It's probably added a couple of years onto his life, and he has started to walk crooked and may start to get a twitch in his eye, but they submitted the application before Christmas! So thank goodness, he doesn't have to work through vacations, weekends, evenings, etc anymore. Now we've got him scheduled on a healthy dose of medical pilates, massage, epsom salt baths, chiropractor, and working from home a couple days a week. And it would be amazing to see this application approved. We need more cancer treatments!

 I am still working full time as a water resources engineer, but have started working a couple days a week from home to be more comfortable. I have been feeling fabulous this pregnancy. I am honestly not trying to brag, but when you feel so good, you want to tell people about it! It simply has everything to do with the fact that I've been working out a lot (and pretty hard) this pregnancy. I remember friends often telling me that after the first pregnancy, it gets harder because you get older. I'm 38, but I feel better than I did when I was pregnant with Axel at 32. I have realized that being in shape before getting pregnant, and continuing to stay in good shape, is so important to a healthy and relatively easier pregnancy. I'm 36 weeks and can still do 1 minute planks, pushups, sleigh pulls, one-legged squats, etc. I'm especially thankful because last year I hurt my back really bad doing yoga, but I have felt zero back pain this pregancy. It does help that I have an awesome TRX trainer who takes good care of me at my gym, as well as a great masseuse and chiropractor who does active release therapy, which is, thankfully, all covered by our insurance. I did go to see my OB last week and he said it looked like the baby was measuring 3 weeks ahead of schedule. So I'm going in for an ultrasound this week to check. These types of measurements are never totally accurate, but it reminds me that Axel had constantly measured about 1-2 weeks large, and he came 1-1/2 weeks early at 7 lbs 10 oz, so we'll see what happens!

After we moved to Toronto, I started this tradition of baking cakes for my neighbors whenever anyone had a birthday. It's sort of become my hobby, and a way to bless the people around me. It's slowly become more of a passion. For Christmas, Johan bought me a beautiful cake stand and some high quality cake decorating tools. At the same time, I was asked by a neighbor to bake a cake for her in-laws' 50th wedding anniversary. This was my first multi-tiered cake of different sizes, so a bit of a challenge. But it turned out really well! After this cake, I decided maybe it was something I could do while on maternity leave for fun. I wouldn't do it for the money since I don't charge much, but I love baking and love the process of decorating the cake. However, I've checked out local stores and have seen cakes similar to mine on sale for around $300!! They're crazy expensive. Plus, I can't stand store bought cakes. They always have way too much sugar and lack any complex taste. So if any Torontonians ever need a cake, you know who to ask!

Lastly, I have to mention this amazing piece of technology, which I think has changed my/our well-being forever. We got a Roomba. I am one of those people who, if they see dirt and dog hair all over the floor, gets super anxious and I am not at peace. Our house has four levels and there's no way I'm vacuuming that every day. This Roomba goes to work every day and has kept our house in tip top shape. I will admit, I judged them from the beginning. I thought "people who have a Roomba must simply be too lazy to vacuum". Well judge me if you want, I am in zen mode whenever I'm at home sitting on my couch watching the Roomba work, because my socks are no longer covered in tortilla chips and dog hair! Plus, with a baby coming, there's no way I'm vacuuming as often as I'd like. And Axel thinks it's the coolest thing ever. We even named it Roomba Fransson.

Oh, and our baby room is pretty much done! I'm going to add a couple more things to the walls, like some art I just made, and perhaps some little shelves for books next to the glider. But we are as ready as we can be!

Fly, Little Bird!

These past 5 months of hosting a refugee teenager from Afghanistan have been a huge learning curve for us. At times we weren't sure if challenges were due to him being a teenager, or because he was from another culture, or because of the language barrier. We have learned so much about the Middle Eastern culture, like, that no one is allowed to call a woman by their first name, that they don't celebrate birthdays or ask eachother their age, and Rammadan is a really, really big deal!

Overall, we are so thankful to have gotten to be a part of the start of Jan's new life here in Canada. Part of it was that, as Christians, God asks us to help refugees, the oppressed, the poor. "The refugee residing amont you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were once refugees in Egypt." Leviticus 19:34, and God "defends the cause of the orphan and the widow, he loves the refugee residing among you, giving them food and clothing" Deut 10:18. This isn't to say it was always easy. We had struggles making sure he stayed in school, because he had classes he didn't understand and didn't know or want to talk to the Principal about it. He said from the beginning that he wanted to work to help pay off the debts his mother had loaned to smuggle him out of Pakistan, which were significant, and which we understood. There seemed to be a language barrier, in that we'd agree on something (like, we will leave tomorrow at 4:00 to sign you up for a gym membership), but he wouldn't come home! Those were the times I wondered if it was the English barrier, or if verbal agreements were more relaxed where he's from. I think it was a combination of both.

But overall, we loved having him live with us. He was so sweet and respectful. He cleaned up after himself, and played tee ball and soccer with Axel. And we had the best conversations. We talked endlessly about the Afghani/Pakistani cultures, what he hated and what he missed. He said that once he left Pakistan and arrived in Sweden, he couldn't believe that boys and girls could walk around freely in public. In Pakistan that might get you arrested, or worse. He even felt uncomfortable calling his Swedish teachers by their first name, which he felt was very disrepectful (which I agree with, American culture is similar in that sense). But he got most passionate when he talked about how overly controlling the culture is, especially over women. Women are not valued at all. They can be beaten by their husbands without intervention because their husband owns them. Their families marry them off as teenagers because they are not allowed to study and having a family is their only purpose. I have no problem with women having the sole purpose and desire to have a family, but the fact that it's forced and they have no choice is very sad to me. We loved hearing how Jan had realized what he had been forced to believe, and how he was forming his own opinions for the first time in his life, without fear or coercion.

A month ago, he decided he didn't want to continue in summer school, or school at all for that matter, because he wanted to work. We encouraged him to stay in school for the benefit of his future, but he said school would come after he paid off his debts. We were fine with this, but our rule for living for free in our house was that he must go to school. Furthermore, he had just turned 18, so he was an adult who was capable of making his own decisions and living on his own. So we all decided it would be best if he start looking for his own apartment, and start his new life. He was sad at first, even though we talked a lot about it. But after a few days we sat down again to talk, and he said he had realized that us making him move was the best thing that could have happened for him. He said that, at our house, he was starting to become unmotivated and sleep in too much, and had no concrete plans for his future. He hadn't made plans to get a summer job, even though he wasn't even in school. So this little kick in the butt had turned out to give him so much inititative to start planning his new life! He quickly got a job at a restaurant, he received permanent residency in Canada, he found a room to rent for very cheap, AND he got his work permit. Total answers to prayer.

Yesterday, we moved him out. As he and I were getting into the car, Johan gave him a hug and told him to always consider our house a place where he was always welcome. That we're always here for him. Then he said "Let's see eachother again soon, okay? But before heaven!" They laughed and both said "InShaAllah", which means, "God willing" in Arabic, a phrase Jan uses all the time.

I drove him to his new apartment and met his new roommate, who was a very sweet guy from the Philippines. The apartment wasn't fancy, and you could tell a guy lived there, but it was roomy and had everything he needed. And realistically, who's first apartment is nice?? I don't think anyone at that age has a nice first apartment, and pretty much everyone needs to go through the experience of living in that first apartment, sharing a room, it's part of growing up! I thought it was great. Jan then walked me to down to the parking lot to say goodbye.  I gave him a hug (totally not allowed in Pakistan!) and told him that I was so proud of him and happy that so much had worked out. He said he was so thankful for everything we had done for him, and that he had so much hope and excitement for his future. I am pretty sure that he felt the proudest of himself he's felt in a while.

As I drove away, it felt like something so hard (making him make this step to move out), had become so good. I don't believe he would have accomplished all of this had he stayed at our house. Even though it was definitely the more secure, comfortable option, this scary plunge of his proved to show him that he is capable of succeeding and taking care of himself. But we made sure he knows he will always have a family in Toronto (Us).

Our Good Friday Message

I've been thinking for weeks about how I wanted to write this post. I wanted to make sure that it wasn't arrogant, that it wasn't offensive, that it showed the right amount of empathy and humanity. Because we recently decided to welcome a refugee teenage boy into our home. Then I realized....who cares?? His story needs to be heard, and it doesn't really interest me if anyone is against this or that because of the political fearful climate surrounding refugees these days. This story isn't about that, it's about a sweet teenage boy. And he gave me permission to share this story.

I received an email a couple of months ago from a girlfriend from church, asking us, on behalf of the Romero House (a local Toronto organization that helps refugees upon arrival in Toronto) if we'd be willing to house a 17 year old unaccompanied minor who recently arrived in Toronto. After a lot of talking, we decided to meet with Ellen, the social worker from Romero House. She started off the conversation by describing Jan Ali to us, that he was a pretty typical teenage boy, he liked sports, had a cell phone, was very social...and he speaks about 8 languages, including Swedish. Say what? We speak Swedish at home, and that was actually one of my concerns, that we'd have to give up our language culture. Pretty amazing! After that meeting, we felt a bit more comfortable with the idea, but still wanted to meet him. So Ellen came by with him to our house and we all had Swedish fika and tea. He was so very polite and sweet, and spoke conversational English. So fast forward about two weeks, and we were driving over to his temporary apartment to pick him up. And he's been a member of our family ever since. 

The first weekend we were all together, we took him skiing at a local mountain. It was his first time skiing, and he took off like a pro. Pretty quickly, we took him to a black diamond run, and he fell and tumbled like a snowball. Then, on the chair lift on the way up, he told me, "Let's go back to that run, I'm going to get it". Right then, I knew what kind of a kid he was. 100% determination. I think he'll fit in with our family quite well!

Romero House suggests that we not ask too many questions about their past, because they are constantly having to "prove" themselves to border agents, judges, etc, that their story is true. So we took our time and let conversations happen as they came. However, Jan was never shy about talking about his history or his people. He is a Hazara. His people are originally from Afghanistan. If you've read the book, The Kite Runner, you'll have an idea of their history. They have been persecuted by other Muslims for over a century, but especially in recent years with the rise of the Taliban and other insurgents. His family was driven from Afghanistan when he was four years old and fled to western Pakistan, where they lived ever since. His father was killed when he was very young, and his brother-in-law was killed by a bomb in Pakistan. Hazaras are hated because they do not believe in the same kind of Islam as Sunni Muslims. They are Shia Muslims, so they are not considered to be "real" Muslims by extremists. I honestly still don't know the main differences, but I'm determined to learn. Hazara men are also especially targeted, leaving only the women and children to fend for themselves. The Hazaras from Jans tribe in Pakistan live in Quetta. However, they are allowed a space up in the mountains outside of the city, and they are forced to stay within the small designated area for them. If they go outside those borders, they may be killed. Hazaras are an ethnic people with very distinct facial features, so they cannot blend in with other cultures, they are easily spotted. Jan described being a little kid and often never being allowed outside for fear of danger. He said it became so normal for people to enter their village and set off a bomb, or for there to be hangings outside, that people (even he) stopped reacting to them. That made my heart absolutely sick. To think of the things this sweet boy and his family have had to experience and witness throughout their lives.

Jan recently found another Hazara refugee here in Toronto who just happens to have grown up just a couple of blocks from where Jan grew up! Also amazing. We were talking about the violence in Quetta, and Zakir (Jan's friend) said that he recently went to the Dr. in Toronto and was told he had shrapnel in his leg. "From a blast", he said, shrugging it off as if it were nothing.

Jan escaped Quetta and Pakistan when he was 15 years old. Let me repeat that, he was 15 years old. He hired a private guide and walked for months across the Middle East from Pakistan all the way to Turkey. Once there, he took trains heading north, with the end goal being Sweden. Once he was in Sweden, he was told he couldn't stay. Sweden had decided they couldn't allow in any more refugees due to the Syrian refugee crisis. Jan said that when he arrived in Sweden, he walked into the country with dozens of other refugees escaping the crisis. There were so many, no one said a word, they just led them straight to the refugee camps. He lived there, in a refugee camp, for one year. When he found out he wasn't going to be allowed to stay, that he might be sent home, he got desperate. He bought a fake passport and decided to go to the country everyone said would accept him: Canada. His flight from Sweden had a stop in Iceland, where he said a border agent was asking him questions. His passport said he was from the Czech Republic, and he was shaking in his knees, hoping that they'd let him pass. They did. He said that one thing he remembers about Iceland was that he was so thirsty, but had no money to buy a water. He had spent all of his money on a passport that he couldn't even buy water. I just thought "but why didn't you ask for tap water?" But then you realize the language and cultural barrier, and simple things to us are not always apparent to foreigners. Once arriving in Canada, he went to the border agent, and immediately told them that he was a refugee. Since he knew no one in Toronto and had no place to stay, they took him to a detention facility. Jan didn't realize that's what it was, he thought it was some sort of housing for men. But when they only allowed him to go outside once a day, he told them that he needed to get out of there. They let him go and speak to another border agent, who directed him to the Romero House. Romero House quickly set him up with a host family where he could live. The husband of this family was a Christian pastor with a wife and an 18 month old daughter, with another child arriving any day. So Jan stayed with them for about a month before moving in to a temporary apartment at the Romero House. This was when we got the email. 

I realize that this story is a lot to process. But to be honest, from the day Jan moved in, it hasn't felt like a burden or shock to us at all. It really feels like God has blessed this all in its entirety. We always knew our Toronto house was too big for us, but that there was a reason for it. It has been a total blessing to have Jan join our family. Not just because we have been able to help a boy in need, but because we are learning so much from him. My heart aches for the freedom of the Hazara people, people I had never even thought about before. We are talking a lot about how to bring his family to Canada, which is, as expected, his first priority. He is in high school, taking math, computer programming, and English. He wants to be a computer programmer. We have encouraged him to stay in school and even go to a two-year college after so that he can have a good future, and take care of his family if they do end up making it here. But lately, the story of the persecution of the Hazara people has been heavy on my heart. I often sit up and read about people who are involved in their freedom. We are even looking into ways to sponsor his family to come to Canada. A tricky thing is that Hazaras are so persecuted, that it is often hard for them to be declared refugees within countries local to Afghanistan. Pakistani police may even harm them. But this stuff isn't too big for our God.

So today, on Good Friday, the day when Jesus was betrayed by his own and taken to the cross, we celebrate his sacrifice by breaking bread with Jan and his new Hazara friend, Zakir. Jan's entrance into our family has brought with it new Indian music, amazing spices, chicken biryani, and lots of languages. But to me, the best part is sitting around the table, eating together or playing Yahtzee, soccer, basketball, or tee ball, listening to middle eastern, salsa, and Swedish music, sharing our different foods, switching between speaking Swedish, English, Spanish, and Hazara, and realizing that we are here because Jesus asked us to love our neighbors. 

Toronto: Year One

It's crazy that one year has already gone by since we moved. It feels so raw when I remember back to how sad it was to say goodbye to our home, family, and friends. But so much has happened this past year that I wanted to summarize, just in case next year really sucks.

Canadians
I came to Toronto thinking that Canadians (Torontonians, I guess) would be so Euro. They're on the east coast, close to Europe, I expected a culture shock. But there was none. In fact, the people are not much different than Californians. Wait, let me clarify, they're not much different than Californians from larger cities. You go to small town Cali (like my hometown), and you get a completely different persona. So coming from San Diego, where people are very integrated into different cultures, lifestyles, etc, it was no biggie for us.

HOWEVER, there were a few noticeable differences that I did notice from the beginning that only we could chuckle at. Because when you're the newbie, you can't make fun of the rest of the population for how "different" they are, because really, we're the ones that are different. So you have to suffer alone and just keep the jokes to yourselves, because no one will laugh but you:

1. They say "ash-phalt" instead of "asphalt". Come on, people!
2. They curse a lot. They drop F bombs in front of their kids even. Except they're so sweet and kind when they talk, that you barely even notice that they're cursing.
3. They all say "eh". ALL of them do!
4. They hate the cold. Seriously, we're from California, and we were outside every day during the winter. All of our neighbors were huddled inside.
5. They're so very kind. I always thought Californians were kind and welcoming. Torontonians have us beat. We felt welcomed every where we met someone new, and people always seemed interested in getting to know us.
6. They have a huge lake (Ontario), but no one swims in it! They say it's too dirty. When they tell me that, I tell them that when I was a kid I swam in drainage ditches lined with foam from the pesticides.

I don't really have any complaints about Toronto. It's a fabulous city with so much to do, and it's beautiful with it's lush greenery and huge canopied trees and European style mansions. However, there is one complaint, that, as a civil engineer, drives me absolutely bonkers. The traffic engineering design is the worst I've ever seen in a major metropolitan city in the developed world. For example, there are rarely any left turn lanes, so if you're driving, you hope to god no one decides to turn left, otherwise, you're stuck behind them until all the opposite traffic passes. Also, there are normally two driving lanes on both sides of the street, however, they allow people to park there, so it cuts it down to one. Add that, on top of getting stuck behind someone turning left, and get ready to welcome the road rage. When we first moved here, I'd yell at Johan "Don't do it! Don't make yourself turn left, for fark's sake!" The freeway design isn't any better and is equally frustrating. It takes forever to cross the city from one end to the other. Hence, we take the subway whenever we can.

Axel loved his first year in junior kindergarten. I started him off going Monday, Wednesday, Friday full days, then I'd send him half days on Tuesdays and Thursdays so that he could have a nap and we could spend time together. However, soon after he started asking if he could stay all day, every day. Okay, sniff sniff, off you go, little bird! There are a million kids in our neighborhood, three of his best friends live on our street and were all in the same class. It was wonderful to be able to walk together to and from school, and play together in the park after school. There is also an amazing community of moms that I've never experienced before (well, I've never had a child in school, so I don't have much to compare it to!). But they are all so fun and kind, and we've had a couple of large get-togethers, as well as monthly wine nights mostly for the moms on our street who know eachother a bit better. They've become my closest friends here.

Axel is still crazy. Johan and I have started calling him Axi Boom Boom. I don't know where that came from. But the kid is still a mini Evel Kneivel. Moms who don't know him panic when they see climbing up and jumping off of 5 foot walls, or riding his bike or scooter as fast as possible off the road into a neighbor's yard or grass ditch, only to throw himself into it. Sometimes if he's bored, he'll make a ramp on our driveway, launch off it with his skateboard into the street until he reaches the grass ditch across the street and throw himself into it. He just likes to crash and fall. But he never gets hurt. I guess he's been doing it for so long he's learned how not to get hurt. I was joking to the neighbors that he's like a cat, if you threw him off the roof he'd still land on his feet.

This year, he learned how to ice skate, play hockey, snowboard, go off jumps at the terrain park with his skis, play t-ball, and swim on his back. Now it's soccer season, and he's working on getting the ball in the air when he shoots. He's starting to shoot really hard. Here's a video of him with a nice left into the goal:

Here's a couple of videos of him at the terrain parks at four yrs old:

Johan loves his job. He's got amazing co-workers who make work fun, which makes for a great work atmosphere. He loves taking the subway or riding his bike to work because he hates driving a car to work and sitting in traffic. He is still making strides to find an effective treatment and cure for cancer. The goal is still for his company to have good enough results to get a drug on the market within the next 3 years, so that his company can be sold, at which time we'd move back to San Diego.

I also love my job. I work three days a week, which gives me a really good balance of work, having time to run errands, and spending time Axel and my neighbors. I started a boot camp for my neighbor moms back in the Fall and we're still going strong! We'd drop the kids off at school, then go to the park and bust our booties. It's been a fun way to get together twice a week.

This month, we celebrated midsummer, Swedish style, with our neighbors. I was so impressed at how well everyone embraced the cultural traditions. They helped prepare food and drink, walked out into the forest to pick flowers for the maypole and the flower crowns, and even sang a song in Swedish and drank our homemade schnapps!

We really have the best neighbors. I really credit them for making us love Toronto so much. I told Johan, I don't think I'd ever want to live somewhere just because it was beautiful or had good weather, I need to live somewhere where I love the people. Whether they're family or friends; Surrounding yourself with good, loving people makes it possible (and enjoyable) to live pretty much anywhere.

Life Lately

I never wrote about our trip to California for Thanksgiving. It was so so good. Everything was beyond our expectations. I remembered how much I love and miss California. We remembered how amazing San Diego is, and the time with our family and cousins, and friends was so good and precious. I love our family. 

Until just recently, we've been struggling with either keeping Axel in his bed the entire night, or getting him to stay in his bed until a decent hour in the morning. For crying out loud, there were a couple of nights this Fall when he woke up at 3:00 a.m. Ready to take on the day. We have no idea what was going on then. But we've realized that sleep training doesn't end after they quit being a baby. 

We haven't completely solved the staying in bed issue. I have learned the solution, though, we just aren't consistent enough to make it happen. You just have to stick with your rules, and you have to be realistic. We normally say that any time after 6:00 a.m. is an allowable wake up time. He goes to bed at 6:00 p.m., and he needs 12 hours of sleep, so 6:00 a.m. Is reasonable. If Axel wakes up before then, he has to go back to bed. The big question, however, for the strong willed child is: "Or what??" How do you make a strong willed child go back to bed? It really is about consistency. Lead them back, sleep in the bed with them if you have to. You may fail the first couple of times, but if you are consistent, the kid will eventually accept that he should just go back to bed. Our strong-willed child meter tips the scales, and we've struggled with this for about a year and a half, and it's just now starting to bear fruit. So have hope! Be consistent, and be strong!

Food is another thing we've struggled with, like practically every other parent. Granted, Axel has always been a great eater, we've gone through more of a control and attitude phase regarding food. It didn't matter what we put in front of him, as soon as he saw it, he'd make the most hideous face, pretend to gag, fall out of his chair, and pretend he was dying. Just like I described. It was drama every night at our house at 5:00 p.m. And it wasn't that he didn't like food, it was that he wanted to have control over his food. He wanted to decide, because he knew that he was 4 and he had a voice to be heard and that we listened. However, that didn't mean that we had to give in and let him eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every night. Instead, we negotiated. Being that Axel is basically a barbarian and needs extreme quantities of food to supply his high energy lifestyle, it didn't work to let him go to bed hungry. We tried that and it backfired on us when he consistently woke us up at 1:00 a.m. begging for food. Our rule was that if he didn't eat his dinner he didn't get to watch a show before bed. He gets to watch a show on tv in the morning after breakfast, and at night before bed. It was his luxury, his treat. So that was a big bargaining tool for us, and it worked pretty well. There have been several ugly tantrums here and there in between, but in general, we've been consistent with the rule, and it works. Now, there are still foods that he didn't want to try, but he'll at least try them. Another thing is that he is obsessed with being big and strong. So we tell him that he needs to eat his growing food if he wants to be big and strong. Cha-ching, that is working better and better. 

This month I started leading a boot camp with my mom friends on my street. I kind of suggested we do it as a joke, and now they are so invested that we meet every Tuesday and Thursday morning after dropping the kids off at school! I like to yell things at them like "No weakness!" And "This isn't ballet class!" (I got that one from my UCLA gym trainer). Other times I just tell them that they can quit, but then they're not going to get buns of steel. Then I dangle a cookie in front of them as they push weight up a hill then throw the cookie away. Okay, all of these things are lies, but we joke about them being reality in the near future. But seriously, I have some badass Mom girlfriends. They never complain, they are always eager, and they're freaking tough!

Hockey is our new sport obsession. Since we now live in the north, and there are ice rinks at every street corner, it only makes sense that we play hockey. Plus, Axel's older friend plays hockey and he wants to be just like him. He started taking ice skating lessons in early December, and after a couple of weeks, he's already skating like a pro. He can definitely skate faster than me, but I've also just started learning. The other day he and Johan were trying to teach me how to stop, which is the hardest part of ice skating. It's terrifying, actually. But it's so easy for Axel. He kept showing me, saying "just like this, Mamma", it was really cute, and also humbling that my 4 year old was trying to teach me something that he was better at than me. At least it will be many years before he's better than Johan.

There was a mom blogger who, a couple of weeks ago, wrote that for Christmas, she likes to think of a phrase her kids said a lot that year and put it on a coffee mug. I told Johan that my coffee mug would say: "You're the meanest Mom in the Whole world". Or the most recent one that I got yesterday was "Mamma, I'm not going to invite you to my birthday party!" I laughed at that one, cause good luck getting Pappa to organize it for you (Johan is the best at everything else, by the way). One evening I told Axel I was making Swedish oven pancake for dinner. He was so excited and even helped me make it. It's an egg, flour, and milk batter, but it's savory and I usually add bacon and a vegetable to the batter and bake it in a form in the oven. When I pulled it out of the oven he threw himself on the kitchen floor in tears screaming "That's not a pancake, you're the meanest Mamma in the Whole world!" I was speechless at that point.

Sometimes it feels like he has so much frustration. I always have to wait it out, then we talk about it after, when he's calm, kiss, hug, and admit that we do actually love eachother. But then there are the nights when we're watching his show together on the couch before bed, and we snuggle and wrap ourselves together in a blanket, and he lets me wrap him like a burrito in a blanket and carry him to bed. Then I think "At least he doesn't hate me all the time".