I guess it’s time to face the truth. fall is here and there is no escape.

some good things come with fall:
I finally get to wear my pretty boots
I no longer feel the need to wear shorts which in turn means I get to cover my, usually, usually bruised legs
the good TV-shows are back. I’ve missed you Greek, Grey’s Anatomy and ANTM
nobody blames you for curling up on the couch under a blanket watching said shows.
and even though I love being barefoot, it feels pretty good to put on a pair of thick socks

at least until you discover the big holes in them…

yesterday I mentioned to F that I miss writing and that I want to keep doing it, only thing is I need something or someone to push me a bit. also what's the point of writing if nobody reads it, except if it's a diary or something to that end.
so my sweet F suggested that I should keep writing and post my stories here. and it's not a bad idea. I kind of like it to tell the truth.

I'll post some of the things I wrote for my writing class and whenever I write something else which is half decent.
the first assignment we got was to write about a day at work and here it is:

A Day at Work

My alarm rings and I turn it off. It would be so easy to just fall back asleep. And for two minutes I seriously consider going back to dreamland. But like every morning the better part of me wins and I get up. The good thing about working where I live is that at least I don’t have to get out of my jammies for my first shift – if you can call it that. All I need to do is get up, put my contacts in, pull my hair into a pony tail and go down the stairs.

As I make my way into the kitchen I wonder if this will be a good day. A day when both Bridget and Kyle, the kids I’m looking after, are sitting by the table, dressed and ready for breakfast and it is only seven am – I kid you not, it has happened. Or maybe this will be one of those days when the kids don’t want to get up and Bridget is grump. I’m still not fluent in grumpiness even though I’ve been here for over a year now. I know the difference between a clone and a storm trooper but I can’t for the life of me figure out if nnyhmhhmemiieee means one piece of toast or Lucky Charms without milk. Getting a “please” or a “thank you” on those mornings are just as likely as Johnny Depp appearing in the doorway.

As it turns out Bridget is sitting by the kitchen table ready for breakfast. Her choice of the day is Cheerios with milk and Cran-Grape juice to drink. Kyle is usually the hard one to get up in the morning, which is why I tend to leave that task to his parents. Before Bridget starts to eat she demands the comics and since she is the queen of this house she can’t be bothered to touch the newsprint so it’s up to me to fold it right. I guess I have myself to blame, I am the one who got the kids to discover Pickles, Baby Blues, Get Fuzzy and all the other good stuff.

While Bridget is eating and we’re waiting for her brother, I pack their lunches. Some days they get hot lunch in school and others, like today, I pack it. To mix it up a bit I try to give them different snacks with their sandwiches but it all depends on what is left in the cabinets. When their lunches are in their backpacks I start to unload the dishwasher and finally I hear the shower starting upstairs. Once I’m done with the clean dishes and have put the dirty ones in, I start to listen more carefully for sounds from upstairs. How far along is Kyle? Still in the shower or is he getting dressed? Bridget has finished her cereal and now comes my least favorite part of the morning. For the last few weeks she has had headaches every day and when my host mom took Bridget to the doctor they found out she had a sinus infection and she has to take medicine to get rid of it. She hates it and it takes her ten minutes to swallow five ml while whining loudly about it.

Kyle still isn’t down and if they want to get to school on time they need to leave in ten minutes. At this point there is only one thing to do: toast-on-the-go. I make two pieces of toast with butter, put them in a small plastic bag and fill a sippy cup with water for him to eat in the car. Finally he’s down and Bridget is almost done with her medicine. I do my best to rush them through teeth brushing and getting shoes and jackets on. And at last they’re out the door and I draw a sigh of relief. This morning went pretty well and now I can relax and have my toast while reading the comics in peace and quiet.

Now I’m free until I need to go pick them up at three pm. Two days a week I do the kids’ laundry, usually on Mondays and Fridays. It never stops to amaze me how many clothes these kids go through per week.

At 2.30 pm it’s time for me to get in the car and drive to the kids’ school. It takes about twenty minutes to get there if traffic is good and normally it is. I try to be a bit early so I can find a good parking spot but it seems like everybody else is thinking the same thing. It won’t kill the kids to walk a block, although it might kill me to hear them complain about it.

While I sit outside Bridget’s classroom, waiting for her to come out, I read my book. I always bring a novel with me, no matter where I go, and here it really pays off. Bridget and Celina, her best friend, come running out and immediately ask if we can stay at the playground by the school. The weather is nice and we don’t have anything going on tonight so I agree, but we need to locate her brother first. We walk out of the 1-2 graders’ building and Kyle and his friend are waiting for us. Once by the playground they drop their things, run off and my book comes up again as I find a nice spot to sit and read.

Days like these are the best, if we stay here for awhile it means that I don’t have to come up with an activity for them at home and I get paid to relax. I still keep an eye on the kids and the clock. I don’t want to get in the middle of rush hour traffic and both Bridget and Kyle need to practice piano when we get back to the house. As it gets closer to 4.15 pm I decide it’s time to leave. Getting them to stop playing is always hard and I don’t really want to stop their fun, but we need to get home. Getting Bridget off the monkey bars is the hardest and it always ends with me saying that I’m leaving and if she wants a ride home she better come now or I’ll see her tomorrow. Naturally I would never do that, but she doesn’t know that and I will use that advantage on her.

While driving home I put on some music and the Feeties come out. I hate the Feeties with a burning passion. The Feeties are Bridget’s feet and they have a life of their own, they talk in a squeaky voice, they climb on the windows and they never listen. If she’s ever caught doing something she shouldn’t she blames it on the Feeties and it drives me nuts. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the Feeties that drew with a purple marker on the white rug or told Kyle she hated him but she swears it was. Ignoring the Feeties and all the noise in the backseat as best I can, which is a necessity while driving on I-5, I turn the volume up a tiny bit and hope the traffic will be good to us.

Arriving at the house I carry the jackets while Bridget and Kyle take their backpacks. Once inside the house they get a snack, I unpack their lunchboxes and then it’s time to do homework and practice piano. Kyle and I have had endless fights about the piano. He doesn’t want to practice and his parents want him to and they count on me to make him. Some days it’s tiring and completely fruitless and the only thing I’ve gotten out of it is a headache and wasting one hour nagging him. Other days he goes to the piano and practices for 45 minutes after I only ask him once. I wish he could find a middle. I’d be perfectly fine telling him three times if I never had one of the nagging days again. Bridget is better, but then again she gets less piano homework so it’s easier for her. Before they practice I ask about homework and whoever isn’t by the piano does their work. Kyle finishes practice just as we hear the garage open which means that my host parents are home and I can start relaxing again. They come in and I give them a play-by-play about the day. I ask if they need me to do anything, and disappear to my room for a few minutes of rest before dinner.

Dinner in this house can be insane. It all depends on which mood Bridget is in. If she is tired and grumpy you just want to eat as fast as possible and get out of there. Today is good and we sit and talk. I check with my host parents about the next day. Will they need me to take Bridget and Kyle to school in the morning? Are there any activities after school that I need to know about?

When dinner is done I help cleaning up a bit and then I go up to my room again. Unless I have class or I am meeting up with friends this is where I spend the main part of the night. I can’t wait to go home to Sweden and get a real job where I can go home after I’m done for the day, but for now my room is the perfect oasis. And that is perfectly fine with me.

I'm a screw up.
I tend to stick my head in the sand and not think about the things I should be thinking about and I always pay for it afterwards. funny this is I've been doing this for as long as I can remember and I still haven't learned from it. now that really makes you wonder what's wrong with me...

one of the bigger messes I've made is my education. at the time I didn't care, but now I do and I've decided to do something about that. or as it is, last week I decided and started e-mailing and checking who I need to talk with.
this is where another one of my bigger issues come in. I'm really good at making spur of the moment decisions and those I tend to follow through (no matter how stupid they are). if, however, I have time to think about it I get scared and the 'what ifs' have time to form in my head.
last Friday I knew who I needed to talk with and I was supposed to call her on Monday but when Monday came I decided to call her on Tuesday. on Tuesday time just flew away from me which meant calling on Wednesday and now I’m sitting here wondering where the heck the week went. *poof*

I need to find my spot and feel like I belong in this world again. I’ve been avoiding that for the past 16 months in Seattle, great months, wonderful experiences, but my motivation for going wasn’t all that noble.
but there will be no more avoiding and hiding.
tomorrow morning I'm calling the school and I'll do whatever I can to make things right.
I just hope I still have a shot at fixing it.

I’ve been home for almost two weeks now and as much as I like being back, it just doesn’t feel like home anymore. part of it could be the fact that I don’t have my own room anymore ~ I have my bed and dresser in the TV room upstairs ~

part of it is because I miss the kiddos like crazy, I thought I would enjoy the peace – but peace is pretty boring when you have too much of it.
they were so cute when I left. Kyle admitted that he would miss me and gave me a hug (getting that from a ten year old boy is like winning a medal in the Olympics). Bridget hugged me tight and told me to pay the car and stay with her instead.
need I say that it felt like crap leaving them? I truly hope I’ll stay in contact with them and will visit in a few years even though, as Bridget pointed out, they’ll be big by then.

and then there’s the part of me that misses Seattle and everybody there, I really thought I was done with it. you know, accepting the fact that I can’t be there and putting it behind me yada yada yada.
I thought I was over it but now it’s back again. I talked with Aimee yesterday, she’s back in Redmond after her vacation and hearing what’s going on with her and the group was great. she did tell me something which started the whole thought cycle over again. apparently Aimee and Tania had asked the boy how he was so ok hanging out with me when he knew I was leaving so soon and he told them: if you see a beautiful flower, then you will still pick it and watch it even though you know it will soon go away.
that just made me smile and the fact that he would tell them that made me quite gooey. he is so good with words and it really made me miss the whole group which in turn made my heart hurt a bit.
and since I don’t want to be one of those girls who bore her friends with confusing details about boys this will be the last you hear about it. I’ll mull it over it in my head until I’m over it and hope that one day I will find an equally sweet boy who’s hopefully as good with words.
I have one important criterion though: he needs to live on the same continent as me.

I'll be home in a week.

home.

for me that's a weird concept to grasp at the moment.

it's been forever ~ if forever translates into one year, four months and five days ~

and I know for sure that as soon as the new feelings are settled and I've gotten used to it again Sweden will drive me crazy and I will wonder "why didn't I stay in the US?"

then the voice of reason will pop in and say "cause you couldn't stay in the US. being an au pair drove you nuts, remember?"

and as much as I will miss it over here, I really won't miss the au pair bit of it. I will miss the kiddos and all the fun stuff we did together for sure. but dealing with cranky kids who aren't mine and always having to ask if it's ok to go out and meet my friends. not so much.

coming over here was great. I had total freedom to be whom ever I wanted to be. and I have been. a bunch of the change has happened gradually and some stuff landed *smack* *bam* in the middle of my face (not literally)

I have done some things I would never in a million years think I'd do and I've enjoyed it surprisingly much.

to name a few:

I went over here with my crazy stomach and I've dealt with it surprisingly well.

I’ve spent an entire evening in a short black dress, wearing 4” heels and pink bunny ears.

I decided to spend $700 to go to Las Vegas just a few short weeks before it was time.

when Sophie (one of my favourite Aussies) called me a whore it didn’t bother me – coming from her it’s an endearment.

I’ve found a new favourite sport, martial arts is the way to go and I’m looking forward to finding that at home.

I faced one of my biggest fears and took an acting class. the big surprise is that I really enjoyed it and didn’t mind playing Hamlet. a bunch of the exercises we did helped me become more comfortable with myself and I needed that.

I had a wonderful time camping - even though parts of it were stupid like you wouldn't believe.

the internal changes are there as well and I will do my best to keep them since they're good things.

I was insanely scared that I wouldn't find any friends here and that I would be stuck alone in the house all year which thankfully was not the case. I've made friendships which I hope will last the rest of my life.

I'm more confident and secure in my own skin and that's a nice feeling.

I might not end up as the crazy cat lady after all. and that's good to know ~ especially since cats scare me ~

so wow.

what a year (four months and five days) it has been.

would I do it again?

never.

but I wouldn't take it back either. no matter how shitty I've felt at times this has still been a great year with great experiences and I'm so happy I went through with it.

I'm on to my next adventure: trying to figure out how to be a normal Swedish girl again and it might not be as exciting as this year but that doesn't mean I won't do my best to enjoy it...