My annus horribilis

Whilst I may take my laptop with me to London, and post up some pictures of Sam opening his Christmas presents, this will be the last blog in which I write words in 2010. Unlike blogs that look back upon the year and decide what their album of the year was (Kanye or Janaelle Monae?) or their best film of the year (Inception or Social Network), this one will reflect upon what it is like to go from happily married and living in London, to unhappily single and living in Stockholm.

But before that, a quick update on the last few weeks, which have been tough as I finally started my new job, and at the same time Sam and I came down with man flu (heavy colds). Ordinarily I would have rung in ill, but I felt I couldn't, so I struggled to work, at the same time as looking after Sam by myself. For the first time since moving here, I thought I may have to ask for some help with Sam. Pride and stubbornness prevented me from doing so.

As soon as we had recovered from man flu, Sam got struck down by a tummy bug. A week later I can nearly laugh at the thought of twice being covered by Sam's vomit in the middle of the night, but at the time it wasn't so fun for me or Sam. Enough was enough, and we both had Monday off and watched the tractors (right) clear the snow from the street and pavement outside our window. 

My job is going ok, thanks for asking, I haven't done much yet, and I am itching to get busy, but come the new year I will be. Off the bat, the ex-pats have been the friendliest, and the Swedes a bit more reserved. I hope I will make one or two friends there, time will tell. The job itself seems quite daunting at the minute, but don't all new jobs? I remember starting at Cadbury, wondering how I would ever cope. In the end, I didn't have to. Bloody Kraft.

So onto 2010, and as you may expect, I cannot wait to see the back of it. It started badly with the news of Kraft taking over Cadbury (19 January) and my imminent redundancy and then got even worse around the start of May, and has been shit ever since. 

Looking back, I wonder how I managed to cope with things, and how I continue to cope. The simple answer is, that since arriving in Stockholm, I have been repeating my Dad's mantra to "get on with it", I have survived and indeed done better than I could have expected but I know that deep down there is a bruised and battered man, and since arriving in Stockholm on the last day of July, I have kept myself busy and tried hard to not confront what has happened, what is happening, and how I am dealing with it. Honestly, I do think I should do some counselling, and when I can afford it I probably will but I am also worried what may happen if I do stop and look back, and stop "getting on with it". Will I fall apart or will it help? (Please note, Dad/Roy hasn't been insensitive enough to say to me to just get on with it over what has happened, that is his general mantra in life, and one that I have adopted myself).

I am under no illusions what Samuel's Mamma deciding to leave has done to me. I know true happiness is a long way away, and whilst "getting on with it" seems like a good mechanism with which to cope, I do know it can only work in the short term, and in the long term I do need help. I still mourn for my old life. I was under the illusion that we were all happy, and I loved it. And whilst I accept my old life is gone forever, moving on is easier said than done. 

Perhaps, January 1st will help in a small way towards that. It will be a new day, same as any other but mentally January 1st feels likes a chance to start afresh, and put my annus horribilis behind me. If I believed in a God, or a greater power, I would pray to them, for I know that things could be worse in 2011, but I would ask them to leave me and my family alone and let us have a good year. I do believe in statistics and numbers and the chances are 2011 will be a better year. But as I have said before, that little chap (above, pictured in Lorgues, and my favourite photo of him this year) is the reason I put myself through this, and I wouldn't have it any other way, and he is worth it.

Looking ahead to 2011, job aside, my biggest challenge will be getting some friends. Friday night, I really really didn't want to go home and sit in my flat alone. So I asked all the ex-pats at work if anybody fancied a pint, alas all were busy with their families, and Anna was busy too, so I had to sit in my flat (and watch the rather odd documentary Catfish). I even tried signing up for a dating site, to meet people (I really am not interested in a relationship). Neither my UK debit card, or my Swedish debit card would work. Even Match.se didn't want me to make friends. And that's when you just have to laugh, and decide it isn't your day and 2010 wasn't my year and hopefully 2011 will be better.

Thanks for reading this blog. I wish each and every one of you a happy Christmas and a merry New Year. I am in Berkhamstead from the 25th until January 2nd, so if you want to meet up then let me know.

Birthday blog

I have had several emails today, asking how my first day was, and wishing me luck. So, I thought I would write a quick blog about December 6th, 2010 aka: My birthday.

After a sleepless night, due to number one son being awake for a few hours (due to noisy neighbours), I woke up 39 years young this morning. After getting Sam up, we struggled to nursery. It had snowed overnight. It was bad enough on the streets of Vasastan, but by the time we got to Solna and THAT hill that leads to nursery, I had to give up. It was easier walking Sam up 50 steps, and carrying his buggy. The new snow meant it was similar to ploughing our way through sand and whilst that is hard work on a straight path it is impossible uphill. By the time I got Sam to nursery I was as sweaty as if I had been for a run. Nice.

I got to work, to find my new boss was in hospital with an infection. She had worked out an induction for me, but that was out of the window due to her absence. The good news is she was released from hospital today and will hopefully be in at some stage next week. As she said in an email to me today: "I hope you like rolling with the punches". I didn't say that I have had quite a bit of practice at that this year. But I have, and the most important thing is that she is well. First days are always a blur anyway, and this was no different and I got the chance to explore the intranet, and meet some people (including a colleague who had Googled me and found this blog!) and as first days go it was fine.

At 4.30pm it was off to pick up Sam, and we celebrated my birthday with fish and chips (done in the oven, alas there are no chippys here) and a beer. And Chugginton. No Night Garden. He cried when I put it on, and kept saying "train". So we watched Chugginton, and now he is bed, and I am writing this, and trying to decide whether I let Liverpool ruin my birthday, or pretend they are not on, and don't exist this season, and watch The Walking Dead instead.

Thank you all for your birthday wishes. It hasn't been an easy day. It is true to say birthdays have underwhelmed for many years, but Sam's Mamma always made the day special, and last year Granny Pammy was over too. But whilst it has been tough, there is nobody else I would have rather shared it with than Samuel Roy Corless, and that is after all the reason I am here.

Samuel goes sledging

Samuel went sledging today in the park. As you can hear from the squeals of delight he loved it.

Scandi-weekend for Tom and Steph (a blog by Mr Tom Mitchell)

Not only are Steph and I guests of Mr Corless in Stockholm this weekend, we are also 'guest bloggers'. A great honour.

So, first things first: yes, it's freezing; no we haven't been to Ikea; and yes, we have eaten meatballs.

Various delays in Heathrow meant we only arrived in the small hours of Friday morning. But after snatching a few hours sleep we rolled out of bed to sightsee. A varied day took us to the museum of modern art, a hotdog stall in the old town (Gamla Stan), a stroll across one of the bays and eventually to the Stockholm Tax Office (Michael knows how to show people a good time).

We peppered the afternoon with photos - when we could bring ourselves to take our hands out of our gloves. Saddest photo of the afternoon award goes to this pic of ducks covered in snow (right).

Saturday was designed to be far less busy, and contained the highlight of the weekend. The second birthday of Master Samuel Roy Corless Esq. A traditionalist at heart, Sam delighted principally in the wrapping paper surrounding his presents initially.

But then showed genuine interest in his gifts which included, in no particular order, Maca paca (from 'In the night garden'), a selection of toy cars, and a t-shirt with an elephant motif. Sam has now learnt to play a small recorder and party blowers. He has a passing resemblance to Dizzy Gillespie when in mid-fanfare. To keep mum, dad, Tom and Steph happy, Mikaela had also brought an impressive creamcake courtesy of Grandma Arvidsson.

As a birthday treat to Sam, we then visited the temporary exhibition of Chinese terra cotta soldiers (he wouldn't stop going on about it, according to Michael). All the figures and other artefacts are housed atmospherically in former-naval tunnels dug deep into the rock below the museum of modern art.

If a Terra Cotta army is installed near you, we recommend you take a look. As a reaction to such high culture, we then hurried back to Michael's flat for a fix of Strictly Come Dancing followed by the X Factor. Keen to maintain the balance of high and low class, we opted for a glass of Champagne (to toast Michael's birthday - Monday), and pizza from the local supermarket.

Sunday morning brought clear skies and snowy streets, so we took Steph (I mean, Sam) to the local park for sledding, and snowman building. Big thanks to Michael for having us for a lovely weekend. (Michael adds: Lots more pictures to enjoy below):