mommychaos

I know I'm not brave when it comes to certain things. I hate making calls to the government, applying for jobs or talking to teachers on the phone. I get shy and weird about it. But when people start talking about me not being brave at ALL I have the right to get upset.

I could tell you all about the brave choices I've made. I could tell you about the decision to keep a baby, knowing I was going to raise it myself. I could tell you about all the choices around that and all the things I've had to do to make it work.

I could tell them about having my heart broken but still believing in love and going all in, waiting for that river-card with a cold sweat and my heart beating way too fast.  I could tell them about being scared but doing it anyways ‘cause I'm brave enough to make it work.

I could tell you about quitting work and start studying again. Turning my back on easy, but little, money to get my intelligence valuated and put down on a piece of paper to give me and the little one a better future.

Well, I could tell you that, but I wont. I wont brag about being braver than most. I wont brag about being the best I can be even though all the responsibility scares me. But one day I'll have someone to share it with, I will have what I want because I fight for it and I put my heart and my feelings on the line. I never want to look back thinking "What if"...

Now That's being brave.



I'm there in the background, I like it that way these days.

Sorry about the delay. I guess I've had too much stuff on my mind and I haven't had time to share my thoughts to anyone but my friends and him. My diary is full, my notebook with songs and poetry is getting there and my chest is now inhabited by butterflies. It's a nice sensation, one I haven't really gone through before. Sure I felt something like it ten years ago, but I was a kid back then, now I'm grown up and it takes so much more to get yourself through all of this.

I'll write more later and I promise not to take another break in the writing again, at least not for this long. I hate it when A.H. doesn't update her blog for a long time. I mean, no books are as good as a persons true thoughts.
 


I've been busy living my life, sorry about that. ;)

Big holiday in Sweden this weekend. Midsommar arrived this Friday right on time, as it usually does. People with flowers in their hair, loads of beer and vodka and of course some singing about small frogs and foxes walking on the ice. This one stayed at home though. Lying in bed for most of the time, watching The Sopranos on dvd and talking on the phone with that man. So despite the hot flushes and the shivering from the fever it turned out to be a good Midsommar for this girl too.

Everything is changing here and I get scared. I'm so scared that I don't even want to admit it to myself. My baby boy turned three a week ago and now he's not just my baby boy anymore, he's his dad's too. In the shortest period of time I will start having him here just every other week. And even though I will be travelling back and forth to another place when he's not here I still don't feel ready. But will I ever be ready? Does anyone ever get ready to let the responsibility go?

He's been all mine, all my responsibility for three years, and even more than that counting the months I was his protection, carrying him around in my body. No, I will never be ready. Just as I wasn't ready to let his dad take him for a couple of hours to go to an amusement park, but I got used to that. Now I like the freedom and what it feels like to relax for a weekend when he stays at his dad's house. I like missing him and getting all filled with love when I get to see him again.

So I will get used to this. I will get used to sharing parenthood with someone else and L will have his dad as a parent and I know he will love it. They both will!

I've got a lump of anxiety stuck in my throat and it used to be because I missed him so much but now it's a mixture of that and being worried after what we talked about. In 16 days I go to England again and there's nothing I'm looking forward to more. But it will be 16 days of anxiety because I don't know what's going to happen. I know I can't anything from the Future God now since I've worked hard trying to convince the Weather God... But I would want a small glimpse of the future, just a tiny one that would tell me: don't worry, you're his. That would be nice.

I'm sorry for being distant and not writing but I've been having long meetings with the Weather God and seriously peeps, we got it! The deal is signed, sealed and delivered. I've got it riiight here *pats left pocket*. You're welcome everybody, now go out and enjoy the lovely weather I've worked so hard for us to get!

I have to shower and get ready for tonight when I'm going over to my brother's house. I certainly hope that they will make me think less of what happened last night.



I was caught in between heaven and hell for, what felt like, the longest time. Now it's like I'm back and screaming just doesn't do it for me. I've treated myself like shit and now I have to feel remorse towards him too, and not just me. Can't he just drag me off the bridge and be with me.

I remember being friends with a girl when I was a teen. We always had a good time and we used to hang out quite a lot. All the good things we did just disappeared when she questioned me being sick. I remember that she talked to my mother about it saying that she didn't believe it; she didn't believe that I was sick because they didn't know what it was back then. I don't know why I came to think about that right now.

Maybe it's because I just talked to one of my amazing friends on the phone. Maybe it's because I talked to another one earlier or that I'm looking forward to seeing all of them tomorrow. Maybe it's because I know what good friends are and therefore also know what bad ones look like.

Whenever they question me it's for my judgement or for things I do; the same thing I question them for. Because we never take our own good advice so we need to hear the same advice from someone else. And now I've been blessed with new friends. I found FW last year. He's become one of my closest. I met two wonderful girls last year and now I talk to one of them almost every day, a strong, intelligent woman with some self doubt but with amazing insight. And then there's him. A friend but so much more, someone I can't get enough of. The things he talk about, the way he sounds, everything about him. He can keep me intrigued for hours.

I don't love them because I need them; I need them because I love them.



I got you covered buddy

It was one of those mornings. Some workers were arriving at 7.30 in the morning and I had to shower and get dressed before they arrived. Because of the stress I slipped in the bathroom and scared L half to death when I almost hit my head on the side of the bathtub. Mommy must be still, don't run inside!! Is what he told me. Clever boy.

Breakfast was interresting. Since I was on the phone until 3 a.m. I must have been tired when I put away the cellphone charger... When I was making breakfast for Leon I found the charger in the fridge on top of the butter, right next to the milk. Next thing I did was trying to put butter on L's sandwich with a fork. Sure, it works, but a knife is much easier. Mental note for me there. Check!

Update on the weather contract: NOTHING! Not one word. Not the slighest improvement  Bigger update tomorrow. Ooh, you can't wait!



Could this be the weather God mocking us by dancing with an umbrella when there's no rain. I mean, I thought my offers where pretty good. Let's just agree on that Mr Weather God (yes, it's a man, a woman would be much more gentle).

This wasn't the best day for a day in town, but I didn't realise that until I sat on the bus. The wind, rain and the cold is getting to all of us. It's typically Swedish to live up to everyone's expectations since we don't want to make anyone disappointed.

But I'm saying that it stops right here! No more rain, no more cold. We want four, maybe even five warm months of the year and only three months of snow. These are our demands and you (whoever this is to) will just have to give in! Our part of the deal is to set up a REAL Swedish bikini team if you give us those five months of warm weather! Another prejudice thing about Sweden is that we're all sluts so I'll talk to my fellow blondes over here and we might even throw some slutting in to the agreement.  Deal?  Awesome.

Ps. I'll stop eating anything exotic and just eat all of those balls that we like so much over here (Fish, meat, chicken, you name it, we love them as long as they're balls) if you give us a free pass to the world championship in South Africa next summer. You know we deserve it!! Ds.



Fiskbullar i hummersås med knäckemacka (Fishballs in lobstersauce and hard bread)

I couldn't go the doctor today. I was not allowed to eat or take my medicine before testing and I think I planned it poorly because I got one of those episodes with the sphincter, and we all know I can't leave the house when I'm in pain. Now it's alright though and I've spent this day drinking coffee and sorting old papers and clothes. So this place still looks like shit but my file cabinet and my closet looks amazing. Priorities: Not my strongest side.

I have been listening to my biggest idol in singing: Lisa Nilsson. I remember that I cried (yes, the silent tears) when I heard her song Vem live at Circus in Stockholm a couple of years ago.

This song: Varje gång jag ser dig (Every time I see you) was one of my favourites as a child. That chubby girl with her ears sticking out from her hair didn't believe the bullies when we put her album from '92 on in the car. I firmly believed that someone would feel for me, as she did for that man in the song. I believed that someone would see my qualities once I got older and my childish nose got more mature, my hair got thicker and I got blue eyes like everybody else. Now I like those pictures of me from when I was little. My chubby nose is the same, and Leon has got the exact same one. My hair is short so it can't misbehave on me and my eyes will always be green and I'm kind of thankful I didn't grow out of that. I'm comfortable in my own skin and with my mind. I guess that horrible year in Germany was something that will always stick with me, made me a bit more humble, and lord knows I needed that.



Bex, 1984.

I guess I could give you short stories, not to give it all away.

But my mind doesn't work like that you see, I always say all there is to say.

I could go on and find something second best, something that would be much more safe.

But you've never held his hand, or felt, how I feel in his embrace.

I don't have to be that beautiful, strong or even clever.

So I get shy when I'm around him, but still more like myself than ever.

He's been far away for a long time now, more than out of sight.

But I feel he's getting closer, though I won't be next to him tonight.

'Cause the truth is not much matters, than that without him, there's something missing.

I just went through my album from Bristol and I found these two birds. They were so confused and I didn't realise then that taking a picture of them wouldn't show how confused they were. But it doesn't matter. I remember standing there with mr. FB laughing at them. That's how it is: When you're in a good mood everything is great and that's why I know the doctor's appointment will be just fine tomorrow. After that talk I had tonight, nothing can bring me down.

I don't cry about it. I made my mind up when I found out that I wouldn't cry about it. Still, when we started talking about it today, I couldn't stop myself. I always talk through the tears but stop before they fall from my eyes, onto my cheeks. So I clench my jaws to stop more tears from coming and I close my small fists really hard and I feel like punching someone. My hair stands up on the back of my neck and I get so angry that I'm thankful that I have a temper I can handle and that I don't have the physical strength to hurt anyone. Angry tears are better than sad ones. I can handle anger, not sadness.

I made a short remark to the girls today about the blog. I told them about that I was going to write something more fun and positive. It's just that all that is positive right now is my son and even though that the love for a child is the biggest thing you can own, I'm starting to feel empty. It's too much of a struggle and next week I have three doctors apointments. Three days out of five. Life sucks and I'm bitter. 2009 was really our year, right NB?!...



There's nothing threatening about a woman's fists. We use our minds instead. That's why breathing and rebooting is better.

I'm so tired these days. I know it's the disease and after taking new blood tests on Monday they will put me on a new medication. It feels like someone has put lead inside my veins (Hello wolverine!). I move much slower and fatigue hits me like a bat over my head when I least expect it. It's just been one of those days again. The pain set in at about 14.00 (sounds like I'm in the army...) and I took some nitro-glycerine and the pain went away. Well, that pain did. I got a massive headache instead. Enough about that, I even bore myself sometimes!

NB is coming over in 30 minutes and we will watch a chick-flick just to forget about our problems. Love is awesome but talking about it makes this lead-filled body even more tired ‘cause then it's like I let it spread to my brain as well.

He talked to me yesterday. I've always had this thing about not telling too much about good stuff otherwise it will go away, so I'll stop there. I talked to him, it made me very happy and I hope he doesn't go away. He's real, no freaking mirage, but I can't take losing a friend right now. Not this one.

I'm going to develop some old (and new) pictures to put in my empty frames, and then put them up on the wall and today I came across this one. I love it, ‘cause I remember how happy I was (even though I looked like shit!). L is what makes this world of mine go ‘round. I love him. Jag älskar honom mer än något annat!!

This day started out good but after talking to my doctor it drastically turned on me. She talked to me about the x-ray I did a few weeks ago and they saw that it's impossible to operate since some organs are totally missing (we knew this, but still hoped there were some fragments of them left), and the gall-duct isn't working as fast as they thought. So having the kind of surgery we had planned would be unnecessary and just make things worse. When I asked her what our next step would be she said: diet and exercise plans. This is a disease that doesn't go away if you can't have surgery. We have to make it easier for you to live with and put you in perfect condition (minus this freaking thing that ain't working!!)..

So a new diet (again), stronger meds and more frequent check ups. Do you know what that really means?? THEY CAN'T DO SHIT!!! (for now, I hope)

So, to make a long story short: FUCK!

The rain is still falling and the wind is so hard that I almost broke my umbrella on my way home earlier. You can see the disappointment that is written on everyone's faces that the sun left us this early. Well, on everyone's faces except for mine. I love sitting here looking out of my window at the trees blowing in the wind. When a really big drop of rain hits my window and it rolls down it, slowly, changing direction as it goes it reminds me of those silent tears people with too much pride let out. I've let those kind of tears roll down my cheeks these last few weeks. Not for him, they were there earlier, but what I went through with him triggered this. I've been fighting to keep my walls up because I have to stay strong to get myself through this disease. My invisible walls will protect me and my child from people who has got nothing in them but malice. I feel stupid and naive for letting someone inside those walls but the first time he took my hand and led me over the street, he made a small hole in the wall that gradually got bigger with every kiss he gave me. Now it's time to fill that hole and make my wall strong and solid again.

I'm not weak and I'm not an emotional masochist. I'm a single mother that works hard to give my son everything. I take care of myself and I'm fighting a disease and I'm good at it. I'm a good fighter so I won't let love break me down. How stupid would that be?!

 

Writing has always made me feel at ease, mellow... happy.

I've thought a lot about that I'm not going to be a single parent (in the way I have been) anymore in some time. AN will start to take some of his responsibility soon and I really have to keep myself busy during that time that L is away. I'm single and have no one to do stuff with when he's gone. I have all of my friends but I wish I could have some one to talk to on another level when L is gone. ‘Cause all I think about when L is at his dads is: I wonder what they're doing now. I wonder if he remembers to do this, I wonder if he remembers to do that. What if L doesn't want to come home again?!   I know he does and I'm so happy that me and AN really solved everything, became friends and left all the bitterness behind us. And we're moving slow, as we should for Leon's sake, we don't have to stress this.

Without L home I feel lonely. It's empty and when I've picked up all of his toys and put them back into his room it's as if I live here all alone. No one wakes me up in the morning, not even a man and it makes me feel lonely and, yes, I feel a bit sorry for myself. Maybe I do need that personality makeover that I wrote about earlier. Or have I just met the wrong men? Or maybe I just miss him... Yeah, I miss him. Fuck I miss him!

Did you pick my mind Alicia before you wrote this album?

 

Eating Ice cream in the sun with CK and hanging out on her lawn playing games and talking surely made this Monday into a perfect one. The sun has been eating away at me all day though and my back is so red and hot that you could fry something on it.

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!