I Shall Return

But until Sunday night I will be in London with all the Elizabeth Bennet I can muster. Thank you so very much for thinking about us and wishing us well. It worked! And with that I lift my bonnet and bid you a fair evening.

Be Good Now, Little Piglets

So a visit to the doctor's office confirmed that we quite possibly have (or in Jesper's and my case have had) the swineflu, or H1N1 as I believe it's called in the big world. But don't be alarmed, we're all in pretty good shape. Well, at least better than we were Friday. We haven't slept in a while and we still have the weird aches and the whiny voices (sorry about that), but so far it hasn't been worse than any other the-whole-family-sick-at-the-same-time-and-Jesper-hurt-his-back-and-I-have-a-deadline-ordeal that we've survived before. For this I'm very grateful. I'm not a worrier, but this time I've been more chicken than pig.

Tomorrow my parents will come to town and yet again save the day, so that hopefully – if all goes well and everybody's ok and I meet my deadline and all is well and Wilhelm's temperature goes down and all is well – me and Mom can go to London together on Thursday.

Yup. That's the kind of mother I am. The leaving-home-and-sick-children-in-arms-of-sick-father to have tea at Liberty's.

So if you felt sorry for me at first, don't. I'm just your regular pig.

Ooups

We forgot Father's Day today. I blame the flu. It does things to my brain. And also the fact that if I give my husband any more airtime, his humble self will torment me until Christmas. See, he doesn't like to be the center of attention. But he's as vain as the next guy. Kyss, min älskling.

Yes, It's November

This picture is a year old, but could just as well be from today. Wilhelm's taller and that cardigan now fits his sister, but otherwise the look is the same. Complete with in-case-you-throw-up-hairdo and the falling asleep in strange places. We've got the flu. Three quarters of this family is officially under the weather. We have crazy temperatures and weird aches and try to stay clear of the swineflu reporting on the news. I will go to bed now. But I have to say this first: Thank you, sisters-in-law for taking care of Blanka today. You are heroes.

Oh Captain, My Captain!

He doesn't like to be the center of attention. He likes his mornings to be just so. He used to be a mean hockey player and speaks Spanish like a Madrileño. He bakes all the bread we eat. He doesn't like to snuggle. He's ambidextrous. He's ambitious. He loves his mother. He shaved his head this month and cried with joy when a co-worker told him he looked like an ex-con. He takes care of his sisters. He throws me over his shoulder and spins me around until I scream. He has the biggest crush on Jay-Z. He's saved lifes. He's the funniest person I know. He baked our son a chocolate cake at 11 o'clock the night before his birthday. He has Bleecker Street on repeat. He cries at The American President and love all things Sorkin. He's big on loyalty. He was asked twice if he was a doctor at the birth of our son and considers that the height of his career. He is not a doctor. He is my love. He's all the things I dreamed about and more. He's really into football. He can eat more cake than anyone in the world. He's my guy.

And I'm Slim Shady

How about some art(ists) for the holidays? Graphic designers Brainstorm have made the perfect Christmas gift for the art buff in your family. Check out Dalí, he looks crazier than ever.

Vi Ser Hur Solen Stiger Över Råsunda

Remember this? They made it all the way this year. And my son sang himself to sleep last night: Champions, champions, we are the champions. And we really are. Forza Gnaget!