Saturday, February 13, 2016

Bad moms of Stockholm

Last week I was a member of the bad moms club of Stockholm. My friend and I were laughing as I picked Zoe up at the completely darkened playground, after my friend, with her 9 month old, had looked after Zoe for an hour while I went to the parent-teacher conference at the daycare (Zoe is still in daycare in Sweden). She told me how the other parents had looked back at her with dismay as they left, because normal Swedish children would obviously be at home and brushing their teeth by now, and other mothers did not let their children go into the empty fountain to hug the dragon sculpture. We laughed and laughed with our daughters on our way to the train station past 7pm, talking about how it was them who lost out. Our kids had a blast. Zoe was in bed by 9:30pm together with a jetlagged mom and next morning I woke her up singing our good morning song from the kitchen, making coffee, leaning over the gap in the wall to caress her hair.

Zoe and I baking in out kitchen in Stockholm
On Saturday I had promised Zoe noodles at the noodle place with a little play area, completely forgetting that Stockholm is not like New York. Said noodle place was in a shopping center and had closed an hour before we got there around 7:30. Instead we decided to go for Pizza at Vapiano, sitting in the lounge because there was a 20 min wait for regular a table. Again, joining the club of bad moms, I had a glass of wine and let Zoe play on my phone while we waited. She showed me a few games but when we got bored she just lay on the couch sticking her legs up into the air, making up a story about the girl and the mom in the mirrored ceiling. At 9pm we were full from pizza and gummy bears (free after a meal there) and walked home through the cold winter air. "Mom if you come visit me in the summer we can have a play date with my friend Lucy at the playground with the water", Zoe said and it stung just a bit. I wanted to repeat what I have told her many times, that she lives with me half the time, just like she lives with her dad but instead I changed the topic.

Sunday afternoon I dropped her at her dad's place and rushed off to the airport, catching the direct flight back to New York after a glass of wine in the lounge. Landing in Newark with a view of the World Trade Center, and a blue and red Empire State Building, I felt at home except for the most essential piece of the puzzle.

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