mommychaos

I know some people (and these are not close friends) that are in a desperate need of a personality makeover. Not because they are boring for others but it's so obvious that they are fed up with themselves. How much fun can that be?

I got fed up with myself when I was 22. I remember it clearly when I saw a video of myself thinking: Please let that be someone else ‘cause I can't be that loud. I still talk as much as I did back then but not as loud and I don't have to prove myself anymore. I know me, if you don't, get to know me or don't. I really don't care anymore. The time when you had to be loved by everyone has passed. Having a need to please all is never good for you and it's no fun for anyone else.

Going in to town this Thursday, I was standing on the platform at Gullmarsplan waiting for the train to arrive. I didn't realise how cold it was outside until I got there but it was too late to go back and change my outfit. So I stood there with my strappy sandals and a short skirt. The sun was nowhere to be seen and yes, I was freezing. A woman in her forties looked at me as if she was disgusted with me for having such a short skirt in that weather. She frowned and shook her head and muttered something no one could hear. I got so fed up with her, because people were starting to notice her and what and who (me) she was shaking her head at. So I took my skirt between the tips of my fingers and did one of those curtseys that females used to do when they greeted people. I went down real low with a look on my face that said: you're welcome and then I kept that mocking smile on my lips until she turned away with a red face. The people around me laughed and all I could think was: Why the hell did I do that for?!

But then I remembered why I did it: I just don't care what they think and maybe by doing that the 40 year old virgin who looked at me like that will leave a poor 14 year old girl, with no sense of style, alone next time, and not stare at her for wearing hotpants or shorts that leaves nothing to the imagination. I'm not keeping my fingers crossed about that, but as I always say: A girl can dream. Maybe one day we will accept each other for what we are and then we will dare to be who we really want to be. Maybe those people I know who needs a personality makeover wont need to get one, ‘cause they can get out of their shells and be themselves. Wouldn't that be awesome?

On the forth day she rests. That's what it says in my little bible and who am I to go against it or disagree. Yesterday was nice. I was tired all night but I knew I was going to be, so no surprises there. I drank my wine, talked with as many people as possible and hung out on the balcony. It was, in other words: a typical Swedish home party. When they started playing games and the neighbours complained about the noise, I phoned a taxi and went home. I was so tired I almost fell asleep the second I took my shoes off.

I met a girl at the party who's going to move to my neighbourhood. Not just my neighbourhood but almost next to me. And when I talked about this place I heard myself getting partial. I've grown up here. This place has shaped me into who I am and made me proud of being from this little suburban nightmare. After leaving it for 4 years I came back when I was pregnant. I hate this place and love it at the same time. You can put new paint on the houses, make new people move in to the new ones they put up a couple of years ago. But everyone who's ever lived in a suburb like this knows that it doesn't change. This place will always remain the same. Thank God or not? It is what it is I guess.

I'm listening a lot to Alicia Keys now. No one and Superwoman are on repeat when I'm editing the book and somehow her voice makes it easy to write. She's helped me to write loads of new chapters and the story of the book has changed a bit. I hope I will be able to send it in before summer is over. I'm a hard worker and feeling like shit always makes it easier to write. But still, I'm a superwoman, just like Alicia says.



This is what it used to look like before they took away all personality of this place and made it new.

Yes I know that drinking like you did when you were 18 is out of the question when you're 26, but I thought I could at least give it a try. And today I feel as bad as I thought I would. A bag in box with wine is never a good idea, especially not when you sit down in the grass all night. It's not until you stand up, put your shoes back on and try to walk that you understand what a bad idea it really was.

So, this afternoon will be spent in my sofa with some kind of snack and lots of water. I think I will watch Sweeney Todd and just relax until it's time to go to SGs party tonight. I hope he will be satisfied with the party tonight, people always cancel and let you down in the last minute but I hope he doesn't have to go through that today.

This song is about a baad hangover. The anxiety from what you've done when you're drunk and the time before it passes, just in time to the next weekend, when this just repeats itself. Thank God that I've only been through that a few times and never ever these days.



I had a wonderful night yesterday though. It started out with SL in the park and then loads of people joined us. Great night!

It's an hour left before departure. So, just as always, I've got my make up on and I've packed my bag with the essentials. And it's premier day for one of my shirts I bought in Bristol. But peeps, I promise you not to wear a thong sticking out of my skirt or too much make up. I'll keep it a bit more mellow and strict: Stockholm style. I'm looking gorgeous though. I know it's the Swedish unwritten sin to say stuff like that but hey, I do!

The white feathery things are almost gone now. They are leaving us and by doing so they are saying: Summer, come on, it's your time now! So hurray for the white feathery things leaving and so on, ‘cause summer is coming and I promise to get a tan this summer, even if I die trying (that's not true though, I always use sun block).

I'm looking forward to today, tonight, whichever. I'm going to clean this place of mine, every little inch of it and then I'm going out! I'm meeting up with a new friend that I really enjoy talking and hanging out with. Medis is the place to be when Stockholm gives us this little treat called nice weather. Dressed in one of my hundred (close enough) dresses I will drink wine and laugh. Lord knows I need it right now, some casual entertainment.

The physical pain I have to endure every day is killing me mentally. When I got home earlier today after having picked up a package at the post office I had a sandwich. A Kalles kaviar sandwich and a glass of milk. Three minutes later I started cramping and after 45 minutes, when it was done, I started crying. Not because I was tired after the pain, this was a short session, but because I felt sorry for myself. And ladies and gentlemen, when you start feeling sorry for yourself it's like a boxer throwing in the towel. COME ON BEX! Don't let it break you down. You've gone ten years with this and now they know what it is, and they will fix it. They must fix it!

So I wont be an idiot an give in, I just have to complain about it. Because it hurts, right down in to my freaking soul, it hurts! It hurts that I sometimes have to go to the hospital in the middle of the night. It hurts not being able to live a normal life because of this. But there are only a few months, weeks, days left. It's been a decade Bex, you can wait.

Girls, do you remember that episode of Sex and the city where Carrie phones Miranda from Paris? She tells Miranda that she's picturing how it would feel like to be in Paris with Big instead of the Russian. Well, that's where I am now. I'm picturing doing everything with that man I miss so much. In a perfect world he would fly in from his country and stand in the doorway to my house when I get down picking up my mail in the morning. But this isn't a perfect world, and he will never stand there. I just had to write about him again since he just visited my thoughts while I sat on the bus an hour ago. The bus took me through this beautiful town of mine and I would be so proud to show it to him. I would be proud to show this town to anyone. It's gorgeous!



Herrooo Stockholm! It's Hans Brix calling!

When I woke up this morning, I felt so good and so happy that I put on my sweats, dropped Leon off at Playschool and then me and my umbrella took a long walk in the rain. We walked through my suburb and out of it, on streets I hadn't walked on for years. The sound of the rain clattering on my umbrella made me feel so peaceful and at ease. It's always been like that.

When I was a child I loved to stand in the rain, looking right up at it with squinting eyes, trying to get as much rain on my face as possible. The rain and I are the same. We collect all this anger, happiness; all of these feelings and when the time is right, we let it all out. It helped me once when I was picked on in school. It was in Germany, 1993, a ten year old girl that hated everything about school at that time was on her way to it, just to get picked on the second she entered. But not this day. I remember that the rain felt heavy when it fell on me and I knew that the bullies were going to make fun of me because my ears were sticking out from my flat hair more than usual. So I stopped walking, looked up, squinted and let the rain soak me right through. I skipped school that day and when I came home after being outside in the cold breeze all day I had a cold. So the rain saved me from school for a whole week and I was so thankful lying in bed hearing its familiar clattering on my window. Thank you rain, you don't bully anyone.



My ears still stick out from under my hair, but I've learned to live with it.

Thank God for football! I could stop there and say no more, 'cause that sentence says it all. But in doing so I wouldn't be myself, since I always talk too much.

So, Barcelona - Manchester United. Champions League final 2009. Awesome? No. It was definitely worth watching just to see those cute little Barcelona players do wonders with the ball, but all in all it was a bad game. And of course, the player that I hate with a passion: Christiano Ronaldo acted up so many times that I don't even understand what he's doing on the field. He shouldn't be allowed on it before he goes to a therapist. I don't hit people, but seriously, if I saw him out (?) I would punch his sorry little Portuguese ass all the way back home to Madeira.

Being upset with a guy I will never meet and really don't have to think about made me think less of everything else. And of course I won some money on Messi's Goal and that Barcelona won. Thanks guys (for that and for looking so cute in your shorts)!

On a more serious note, the illness is getting worse. I'm in constant pain and it doesn't peak that often but when it does it's just too much. I'm still waiting for the results from the latest x-ray and if they don't call me tomorrow, I'll call them. I feel like a junkie when I take all my pills out and swallow them with my coffee in the morning. I can't leave the house without painkillers and even though losing weight is a good thing for me, I don't want to do it like this. I'm starting to look sick and I don't like to watch myself in the mirror anymore. ME? Come on! I love my reflection (chest and up, nothing under it, haha!). I'm tired and sick and all I really need is a hug. Sometimes I wish that a friend would just ring the doorbell (that is broken, but whatever, knock on the fucking door then!) come in and hug me until I let it all go. All the fear for what's going to happen and all the agony I carry with me 24/7. If I could choose, it would be him. His fingers stroking my cheeks saying: it will be ok. But hey, girls, come one, you're my friends too. Come over and hug me!!!



I know I've always got your shoulder. All of you. But I need so much more right now. Is that alright?

I wasted this day with catching up on all the sleep I've lost. When I woke up I found a small coin lying on my nightstand that I found on the ground yesterday. It's the smallest coin of the lot and it's basically not worth anything and at any other time I would have passed it by and left it there. But yesterday I picked it up, polished it with my finger and put it in my bra (as I do with everything, gross with coins though I know). So when I undressed last night before I went to bed it fell out and I put it on my nightstand. Now it's right here, next to my cup of coffee and my glasses. All I need to do now is to ask him for his address so I can send it to him as I promised. A lucky coin found on the streets of Stockholm, the only one he hasn't got.

As everyone knows by now, music is what makes me feel alive. It doesn't really matter if it's amazingly bad music, as long as it makes me think and feel I like it. These last two days I've been listening to Anders Glenmark. All Swedes are now going: baa ha ha ha and the foreign ones are saying: Who? Who you ask? Well, he's a Swedish singer/songwriter who was big in Sweden in the 80s and 90s. And it just so happened that I was listening to one of his songs when I found my 50 öre-coin. Jag finns här för dig (I'm here for you).

Since the plan is to keep my sorry ass busy so I won't have to use my mind for anything important, I visited PE this morning. Did the whole not thinking thing work out? No. But at least I didn't talk that much about him; I tried to go through my other difficulties that she could help me with instead.

I've always been so happy with my range of friends. I've called them my fruit salad because they're all these different flavours, put together in a bowl, picked especially for me.

Some of them make me laugh and forget about the difficult times, about the physical pain I'm going through. Some of them make me feel smart, and good about myself. Some of them make me feel absolutely awesome!

On another note... I really miss Infinite Mass and Amir Chamdin is one of the sexiest things alive. Does anyone know what he's doing now?



Amir and Nina Persson, from the movie "Om gud vill" (If God is willing)

It's like I'm in mourning. I don't want to do anything. I have a hard time eating, can't sleep and sitting still just makes me think. I walked for an hour after dropping L off at playschool. I got home, drank water and a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. I sat there for two minutes before I realised that I couldn't do it. So I put some music on, danced a while, washed my face, put sun lotion on and went outside again. I walked for another hour and tried to sound happy while talking to NB on the phone. I met CK, we bought some new hair dye, picked NB up in Solna and then went to CKs house where we drank coffee, highlighted my hair and played a celebrity names game. It made me laugh and I felt that the laughter was genuine. Finally! After that I picked L up and we had dinner with M and his kids. Then I got home, talked to my brother on the phone and then I put L to bed.

And then? I talked to a friend on the phone and it was great too. Everything is great. But he's missing. I miss him. I've never lost a friend and I didn't think that losing him would mean this much. I thought that it was better not to have him if I couldn't have all of him, but I was wrong.

I know he won't read this, and it would be too hard to tell him this anyways.. If I could go to his house, knock on his door I would say: Could you come out and play and I'll explain it all. You see, I'm missing a friend, and he's you.

But that's not possible. He's out of reach.



Me and my CK doing my hair today.
We've been through ups and downs but always resolved it in the end.

Last night, I saddled this horse called Bex and made myself available again. And guess what? It actually felt good. No distress and only a small tingle in my belly saying Here we go again!

The only thing that's sad is that I don't have him to call and talk to about it. I'm really starting to realise that I've lost a friend.

One of the good parts of last night was that I got lost in my own hometown. I'm not used to the posh parts of town but there I was, trying to find my way. While asking two people for directions I wanted to put on a fake German accent but then I though what the fuck, I don't have to be ashamed. I was wrong! Asking for directions with such an obvious Stockholm accent as I have, I was ashamed for three blocks.

The strange thing was that it was actually Beyonce who helped me find my way in the end. I called CK when I was lost and after hanging up with her I put Beyonces song Irreplaceable on my mp3 player. As most of you know the song starts out like this: To the left, to the left. So I thought What the hell, this can't get any worse. So I took a left turn and ta-daaa, I was on the street I was looking for. Awesome!

I woke up this morning with two tiny and sticky hands on my cheeks. When I opened my eyes I saw that it was L (who else?) standing there with a big smile on his face. This would of course have been fine, better than fine even because it's great to wake up with your son smiling at you. The problem was his sticky hands and the fact that whatever was running out of his nose (the poor thing has a cold) was now stuck on my cheeks. And this was at 5.30 in the morning. NOT fabulous!

I'm trying to think of something to do today. Pollen is still pissing me off and it's no fun to be outside for even the shortest period of time when all you get are swollen eyes and a runny nose.

Well, we have to do something today! L is sitting in front of the tv watching Imaginary movers (Firma fantasi flytt) and there is something about grown ups acting like children that freaks me out. Yes, I know that it's my perverted imagination and the way I turn every little comment into a dirty one. But still, men with jumpsuits and gadgets? I wonder what those gadgets really are for...And what's with the one girl-concept? Every time this girl shows up the guys get all excited. Yep, it really freaks me out!! *shivers*

We're working hard, and we're having fun.    (I bet you do, you perverted 4 on 1-creeps!!)

I need a break. I like him so much so I need a break. I need to be without him, not talk to him and then get back to being his friend. Just friends is a bad sentence though. There's no just in very good friends.

Anywho, how, whatever!

I was at A.Hs house today. At first L was running around like a crazy person saying random words that didn't make any sense. After putting Finding Nemo on, he sat down and watched it and calmed down a bit, and later fell asleep. (This was the short version of the three hour drama we could call how to make mommy loose her mind in ten days)

So A.H and I got time to hang out alone. Pollen joined us too and some of it even sneaked in to her living room. What are those white, feathery things that blow in the air?

While on the subject (white feathery things) I can tell you all about my hair! It's not white, no, I'd never be that unclassy. It is much lighter though. So all I have to do now is wait for 3 weeks, cut it, and highlight it. And then I'm back in business.

To round things up I can also tell you that I'm going to Prag! I told S.H I wanted to go to Copenhagen, but she won't mind where we go. If I even tell her that I've changed my mind.

S: Bex... this doesn't look like Copenhagen?

Me: Nonsence! Jetlagged from that short trip are we? Baha, come along now S.

So, I'm in the mood for something new and drastic. Change my hair colour perhaps? Yeah, that's what I'm going to do. I haven't really changed it drastically since I got Leon. The time has come, and the world is ready.

Nope, I'm not narcissistic or bigheaded at all. How could you say such a thing?!



Dark hair

So we're looking forward to a long weekend this week. On Thursday there's this holiday that we all discuss every year. Not because it means a lot to us or that we feel especially good, patriotic or religious while celebrating it. Because we don't really, we don't celebrate it. We don't even know what happened on this very special day, other than that it now makes our working weeks a little bit shorter.

Working week. Yeah. That sounds great actually. I'm getting so bored in my little chamber that I'm starting to think out new ways to do old stuff. That might be the alarm clock telling me to do new things instead.

So tomorrow I'm going to do something new. A new gym? New kind of exercise? How about new experiences? I'm actually considering going on the date that I've been asked out on. Considering it and probably turning it down. Considering seems to be high-fashion right now.

Let me think about it.

No! Let's not think, let's just do. Let's jump into something and just do it before I get too old and even more cautious.



Freckled and happy. Not much can beat that.

"Aqua is back!"

Are we cool about this? ‘Cause we're not talking about water, we're talking about the group. The Danish and Norwegian group who tormented us with hits such as Barbie girl, Doctor Jones and Cartoon Heroes.

The only song they did that was tolerable was Turn back time for the movie Sliding doors with Gwyneth Paltrow. But can they stay there? Can they do music that is tolerable? Or will we have to listen to that high pitched girly voice and Renes deep awful voice for a year, until the hype of their album has died out. Let's just hope that this is something that will pass even sooner than that. One summer hit and that's it!

So this summer I am not Scandinavian, but purely Swedish. Simply blue and yellow, and not a mixture of their red, blue and white. And if I like even one song they release this summer I will eat my Swedish flag. The one I did at midsommar before watching Sweden getting thrown out from the European championship in football, 2004. I will eat the twig I made as a pole for the flag. I will eat the yellow and blue small crowns I sew on it. I will eat the whole freaking thing!

I'm getting myself a bike! Oh yes, Stockholm will be terrified when they see me swooshing past them steering the wheel with my knees.

No, sorry, I promise I will have both hands on the steering wheel, a helmet on my head and a small basket in front of the steering wheel with a litre of milk, a baguette and some butter in it. I might even buy a pair of black cotton shoes, a beret and a white skirt blowing in the wind.



 Or why not make it big and buy one of these?! I look good on it, don't I? I'll even buy those shoes to match.

I've always envied my friends for different things. C. has got that organized side that I could never get. Everything is in its place and things look amazing. My place is always cluttered, clean, yes, but cluttered. I have a hundred notebooks everywhere, pens and loose photos. I tried to organize my fridge to make it look less cluttered but less cluttered seems to mean boring for me.

What will I look at while pouring up a cup of coffee in the morning? All my friends, my memories and my family are on that fridge. Sometimes the pictures fall off so I replace them with new pictures of the same amazing people that I am lucky enough to be able to call my friends, my loved ones.

There's a crocodile on the fridge that has moved from my first apartment in Svedmyra, and then to the apartment I shared with Ls dad in Fagersjö and now it's safely on my fridge here.

The crocodile is a pencil sketch a friend drew when we were having coffee in my first apartment. A small apartment with one room and a view overlooking the parking lot. An apartment we all hated and loved at the same time. I was the only one with my own place back then so it became our sanctuary, our place away from the world.

I guess the crocodile reminds me of those days. A simple sketch reminding me of the simple and yet difficult time of growing up, seven years ago. All the stupid things we did and all the grown up things we haven't started to master yet. I wonder if I will look back seven years from now and think I was so childish back then or what the hell was I thinking?

No matter what, I will keep on using my fridge as my canvas of life.

If you heard a BOOM today from the south of Stockholm, I can assure you that there's no need to worry, it was probably just me. My temper has been so bad today that I'm really glad that I don't do violence and therefore don't own any kind of weapon.

What a beautiful day!  Look at all the flowers that are in bloom. The sun is shining and there's no wind. Aaah.

F*** you! That's what I say to that kind of attitude. Beautiful? Really? Did my runny eyes, swollen nose and my sneezing look beautiful to you? And the sun, the sun was trying to kill us by making us dehydrated and giving us sunstroke. And to make it worse it locked up the wind so the hair got stuck like glue to your face together with a pair of steamed up glasses. SL made the day a good one though. He's a funny guy and it's great to talk about the good old days.

I love my son! I love him more than anything in the whole wide world, no one questions that. So when I tell you about the sentences that have escaped his mothers mouth today, you will all understand. Good!

"Go to your room and stop eating your book!!"

"Put the cat down...NO, not by its tail and no, no, take your hands away from around his neck."

"Yes, the cat is allowed to be on the bookshelf.. Yes, the cat will lye there all day now since you almost killed him. No, you're not allowed to sleep in the bookshelf with him tonight. No, I will not ask the cat because I know he will say no."

"Mr. Cat, can L sleep on your shelf tonight?.. See, he said no. Yes, I heard him say no, he nodded in a special way only I can understand. Yes, mommies understand cats... I don't know why, we're just special that way."



He's a warrior! The cat that is.

I woke up this morning with red eyes, a runny nose and a soar throat. I never get sick over night. Usually I feel that it's on its way, lurking around in my sinuses with their bacterial-shotguns. So I got up and looked at my swollen face in the mirror and when I looked in the calendar hanging on the wall in my kitchen I understood: It's oak-pollen time. How could I have forgotten that it has arrived?! 3 weeks in April because of Alder and 5 weeks in May because of Oak.

So should I go to that art exhibit today? Do I really want to go outside and make it worse? L. is sick and mommy has got pollen-issues (yes, issues... we simply don't get along).

I'm not going to let this effect me as much as I want it to. I obviously don't want to let it effect me at all but at the same time I just want to let go for once. Loose control and do something rash, something irresponsible. It's not that I opened the door this time because it was some kind of an adventure, for me it was genuine. Gaah, let's not think about it anymore.

Hello little box that fits perfectly in the little place of my mind where I never have to look ever again. Want some more information? A heartache to hide away, to take care of so I don't have to? Thanks, you're a sweetheart.



A walk outside to get fresh air turned into lunch outside. So atleast we got some fresh air yesterday. When we got home L. fell asleep within 2 minutes.

L. is sick so we're going to miss little S.B's birthday party today. She turns 3 next week and we missed her party last year. It's not like we've planned this but it still makes me feel a bit stupid. When Leon is doing better the first thing we will do is make our own celebration for her. Put on Konichiwa Bitches or Pokerface and sing and dance with her while eating loads of ice cream (throw some wine and vodka in there and it sounds like my birthday parties).

Talking about birthdays, L. turns 3 in less than a month, which means that it's time for me to get nostalgic. But there's a problem... I have too much to cope with as it is, without looking back and making me go through all of that again. Although I could look at it like this: I was in a situation I thought I'd never get out of. How was I to raise a child on my own? I knew nothing about babies but when I look back at it now I don't see all the negative and difficult things.

I remember pacing the corridors of the hospital with a piece of cloth on my shoulder with L's head resting on it, my arm around his waist and my hand tapping his bum in a light, steady beat. I talked to him quietly and kissed his head. I told him about the weather outside, about the world cup we were going to watch on TV later and that he was going to wear his new Sweden-shirt he got from his godmother. Every inch of me was aching after giving birth the day before but he was finally here. My baby had arrived and nothing felt more natural than us being together, just him and me. So it all worked out in the end. Could that be true for everything?

Sometimes I think about whether I'm naive or not. Yes I know I've ran into things more often than Coyote when he's chasing after Roadrunner, but I'm starting to think it's actually me going too fast for life than the other way around. If life slowed down, would I follow its lead and slow down with it? No. I actually think I would go even faster, just to get ahead.

Right now life and I are just next to each other. We're catching up, having drinks in the slow lane, going through what's important in the little show called The life of Bex. It's never easy but always exciting.

I did the x-ray yesterday. Three hours of lying on a bed with that bzzzz-sound and the staff talking in the background. I will never get used to their serious looks on their faces when they call you in again. When I got home I noticed that my sick leave papers had arrived and the thought Here we go again made me feel sick and tired of everything. It all gets too overwhelming sometimes. So I turn the music up and let it fill my head and I say buh bye to emotions and thoughts. I dance, bob my head and pout my lips. But poof, he's there instead, taking over, making me think just say yes.



Thank you Sean for cuddling with me every night. I need it.