Homebound

So this weekend, I finally got to go home. Not that I have been longing since I arrived and wouldn't have survived another day without putting my feet on Swedish soil, but it was nice being home.

I didn't realise that it would be that easy to just fall back into routine and though it felt strange the first day, with the whole being back and somehow having everyone else act as if though I never really left, it felt good. The familiarity with it all, knowing where all the kitchen tools are, where to put things that I haven't touched in ages, who does what after dinner, what there is to do after dinner. It felt nice falling back into it.

Also, I knew that I missed my dogs, but I was not prepared for tearing up as I saw them again. And I was not prepared for the intese affection fest that it brought on. Just the fact that I was able to, should I want to, just walk the dogs whenever. Or just have one of them cuddle up beside me on the sofa as I watched a movie. Or even having to tell them not to bark at the neighbours. It was all so familiar and things that I don't really thought twice of before I left, but now I really did treasure it in a whole other way.

And the fact that Christmas is closing in also helped the experience. I haven't really had the whole Christmassy feeling grow here as much as it usually does at home but as soon as I did get home it was there. Could have to do with that the smells, and impressions and memories were all there. Everything that I connect with Christmas was right there in my face when I stepped through the front door and it just took me by surprise. Watching the advent calendar, decorating the tree and baking biscuits and scones also helped and by the time I left this afternoon I was all stocked up on Christmas feelings to last me the year.

However, two full days was just about enough for me. I have grown so much and become so much more accustomed to having things done my way, I can do whatever I want whenever I want it, unless I am working obviously. Also having seen how other families work and sometimes don't work, I have way too many opinions on what can be improved and praised in my own. Which perhaps shouldn't always be voiced. Let's just say that I felt like these two days were just enough time for me to catch up and refill my 'dog-loving' quota, but if I had needed to stay another week I would probably have torn my hair off and eaten it for breakfast. No hard feelings.

Just three more days

In just three days time I will have landed in Sweden and will possibly be in a car on my way home to kiss the living sh*t out of my dogs. Oh and the family of course.

After the hell that was last week, this week feel a massive amount easier and eventhough I have two more entire days to go, the train ride to the airport still feels within reach. The only problem is packing. I am always packing to go away, but now I am packing to go to Home I. Going from Home II to Home I is trickier than I thought it would be cause obviously I brought stuff here that I no longer need, or that I do need when I go back to Sweden, but then again it feels utterly pointless bringing back stuff to Sweden that I can most definitely get there. But then again, why get another set of something that you already have and just ugh. This is a first world problem if I ever saw one but it is real and present and it annoys me.

I have however, packed my suitcase with books. I have apparently managed to buy 10 books (and read 6 of them - yes that is right). I am bringing 10 books with me on the flights. 10 books. One would think that I'd be able to keep from buying books when I know I am going to have to sihp them to and fro, but no. Now my book shelf just stares depressingly empty at me and I feel a bit sad that I had to clean out the majority of the shelves of stuff that I "had" to bring back to Home I. It is just that I'd rather take it in turns and make sure some of it goes home with each suitcase that has Destination: Sweden written on it, than being sweaty over having to bring it all back in one go. Because god knows that with my addiction with books and Primark, it would take at least 6 suitcases.

Also, Christmas is approaching. 18 days left. Which is a bit sad because by this time I have usually entered Christmas Mode 2.0 but this year there is not a single Christmassy feeling around. I am blaming the lack of snow, and trusting what the family says, there will be none. Maybe I shouldn't trust them and just keep my hopes up. However, all the Christmas presents are bought, apart from the best friend's, which is the trickiest one so far, and wrapped.

Snow or no snow, tomorrow Christmas music will be blasting through my head phones.

1 December

I realised that the only post from December cannot be about me missing my dog. That will not do.

It doesn't really feel like 1 December though. But that could be because me and the children have been in a festive spirit since the end of October and they even stopping making fun of my ugly gorgeous Christmas jumpers. They think they have seen them all. Oh, they are in for a surprise.

The fact that the Christmas lights are on throughout all the streets are really helping with the festive atmosphere as well. Then there is the constant singing of Christmas carols, the never-ending practising of Christmas songs on their cellos, clarinets and violins. I am not complaining, I love Christmas, it is just that I am afraid that it will all be over to quickly. I didn't realise until I, listening to BBC Radio 1 this morning got caught on something Nick Grimshaw said "You don't want it to be over by 8 December" and it hit me that that is probably what will happen. Unless I won't let it.

Wow, this is turning into one of those tug wars. Oh well.

I am super excited about Christmas, and the fact that I have already managed all the presents apart from two (which of one is planned and the other one is a mystery still). I don't think I have ever had such trouble finding presents for people (could have something to do with that fact that I am buying stuff for people that I have not only known for a mere 4 months, but also, they are 9-15 y/o) but I have really enjoyed running around in London, trying to find something suitable.

All that is missing now is the snow. Keeping wishing, right?

Home sick pt. 2

In less than two weeks time I am home. That is the one thing that I keep thinking about, no matter what I am doing or who I am with.

It is not that I want to go home and stay there, that I don't enjoy being in London, that I don't like the people here or the fact that I live here. It is not that. It is more the fact that i miss my home. I miss the place I grew up in and I miss the people that I have seen pretty much every day since I was born. I keep telling myself that I will be back in no time anyway; that I shouldn't really stress over wanting to go back - but it is just that the more I try to not think about it, the more I end up thinking about it and it is really hard to do the stuff you are supposed to be doing when all you can think about is how much you'd want to do this and that, meet that and that person, etc.

I am pretty sure though, that as soon as I have been home and gotten the whole "I miss my family" thought out of my head I will be more than fine with going back. (To be honest, it is the dog I really miss.)