BoyStink

Hmmmmmmm……the smell.  You know the one in a teenage boy’s bedroom.  It seems to be universal.  Its not a specific smell.  Not necessarily sweat, or yuck, its just boy smell.  It is limited to teenage boys I am convinced.  It has arrived back into our household.  When opening the door this morning to gently waken the Swede, I was immediately hit with odoriferous emanations of unknown sources.   Yeah, not so sure, and I respect the Swede’s privacy, but what I can reach from the safety of the hallway is going in the washer tonight.  I think I did witness movement among the clothing.  Determining what is clean and what is not could prove challenging, so I am making the executive decision to drag it out and throw it right into the washer.  I’ll check back tomorrow with are report out on success or non-success for eliminating the boystink.

Swedes Don't Need No Stinkin Blankets.....

The Making of The Bed: Or Lack There Of….

We have entered our fourth week with the Swede and I have to say, this kid is so well-mannered and speaks such excellent English, it’s as if he has known this country and customs for years.  With that being said….the teenager is beginning to emerge.  Without fail, every morning, he would make his bed; even arrange the pillows that are in shams.  If you asked me where they are now, I would guess under a pile, behind a chair,  or in the closet, because I have not seen them in days.  In fact, I have not seen the Swede’s comforter in days either.  BUT, what I did find, are his jammie bottoms on the bathroom floor, his shorts draped over his chair and one of the two laundry baskets with various articles of clothing in it.  In addition, a collection of candy boxes, wrappers and other random items.  The teenager trail is marking throughout our house.  There are hangers in the closet for their obvious purpose of collecting dust.  The shelves are now covered with balled up clothes and I am afraid of what his dresser looks like.  The mild mannered Swede is settling in nicely and assuming a full-on 17 year old status.

On a side note, we had taken the Swede down to Wildwood.  I was making  his bed and foolishly asked if he had enough blankets and would he be warm enough.  He paused, looked at me and said, “I’m Swedish”  RIIIIIIGGGGGHHHHHTTTTTT.  I put the blankets back in the closet.  Silly Host Mom. 

SOHCAHTOA

SOHCAHTOA

Wait for it.....wait for it....do you remember

SOHCAHTOA???  Sine = Side Opposite over Hypoteneuse...is it coming back...remember? Cosine = Adjacent/Hypoteneuse...and the crowd favorite TANGENT = Opposite/Adjacent.  THIS is how I spent my Monday night.  Right angles and CoSecants

Half Time, I'll Do it At Half Time

So I am looking at my title and is half time supposed to be one word?  I am going off on a TANGENT.....hahhaha..Ok, not funny...back to our regularly scheduled program....

The Swede had settled into his chair because of course Monday Night Football was on.  He had his first JV game today and he played AWESOME!  Kickoff squad and defense...he had a big tackle too, couldn't have been prouder.  We avoided concussions but the kid got quite the stinger on his shoulder. So he is iced up, under his blanket, assortment of dogs on his lap and calmly avoiding his homework.  I ask about it and he says, it's only 10 math problems, I will do it at half time.  Well, guess what, half time rolls, the kid hasn't moved, I drop his book and papers in his lap and he starts asking questions.  He is still translating many things, so we work through that, but then he asks me about Pythagoreum Theorem.  I walk over...mind you, boy is still under blanket and doggies, I had to mute the TV, he said he could concentrate with it on. I won.  He still doesn't get up, so I take the book and sit at the table and start doing homework.   I was terrible at math in high school, being the daughter of a mathematician had its perks, but many drawbacks and having him help was one of them.  The dude was way to smartypants and I was way to 13 and hormonal.  So back to Trig. I went off on another Tangent....har har!  I am toooo punny.  I just punched myself in the face for that one. 

OK...so I do his math problems while he sat in his chair, with his blanket and his dogs and his ice packs, oh and his napping.  Doing the kid's homework, not in the handbook, but, well, but nothing.  I just can't wait to see what I got right.

The Swede and The Superman Pants!

The Swede and The Superman Pants!

OK, so here we are August 2012 and we are welcoming another exchange student into our home. Unlike the boy, where we only had 10 days to prepare, we had a couple of months. That had its interesting challenges too. It was almost too much time to prepare, if there is ever such a thing. And yet, we still didn’t get things done. This is mostly because I have no sense of responsibility when something spontaneous arises. Case in point: We have had a mirror to hang on his wall for about 2 months. It is STILL leaning on the wall on the floor next to the sticky things we need to put on the four corners and stick it up. REALLY? Yes, really.

We completely re-did the bedroom for the Swede, painted, new carpet, etc. When speaking with the boy on this, we had discussed this for months while HE was here to update the room and instead we went to NYC every weekend or downtown. Priorities, priorities….

I have already enrolled the Swede with me in two fantasy football pools, a pick em league and a fantasy league. Not sure if in the handbook it outlines gambling as a no-no, but that would require us to actually read it. We realized we were rule breakers long ago, so no need to verify. We named a team THE SWEDE to strike fear in the hearts of the poor sots we are playing against. This kid knows every stat of every player of every team since the beginning of time. I have no idea how he doesn’t have numbers and facts falling out of his ears. I look and watch and wait for it to happen. Its impossible for a person to retain this data. I am exploiting it and proud to do so.

The Swede is 17, introspective and speaks beautiful English. To top it off, his grammar is better than mine, as his grasp of the English language . Awkward. He has a penchant for pajama bottoms and we just picked up a pair of Superman jammie pants. I mentioned that we needed school supplies (because we only had 2 months to get prepared) so off to WalMart we go on Tuesday. What does this have to do with jammie bottoms. WELLLLL…..I explained that a favorite past time is watching the freak flags fly at the local WalMart and that people wear their jammies there all the time. He happened to be in his jammies (Superman) and said he should just go in those. BAD HOST MOTHER, I agreed. It seems that every other parent in the tri-state region had to go and get supplies. It was full contact shopping. Someone took a freaking notebook out of our cart because it was the last one! WTF!!! I had to do a coupla cart blocks and throw some elbows, but we came out unscathed with some of what we needed.

We went back to the camping and hunting section just for kicks. You never know who/what might be lurking back there. He was astonished that you could buy a 3 ft machete for 6.99 hanging for purchase in a regular aisle….did you know that? Packaged up like a pair of head phones. I got him to put on a Camo Jacket though with his superman pants, then handed him a bow and arrow, he fit in there real good.

Think to yourself, you probably don’t wear tube tops or jammies to WalMart, right? You probably have never had anyone comment on your clothes while at WalMart and say, hey “awesome pants” because you were actually wearing REAL PANTS. The Swede, on his first visit, got exactly that. A kid in the seat of the shopping cart yells over to The Swede “HEY AWESOME SUPERMAN PANTS!” and so it begins……

The Redux

The Redux

The boy got on the plane back in July 2011 and I SWORE I would never host again because saying goodbye and leading up to the goodbye was so heart wrenching.  I had to let the boy go back to his country and then what?  I moped, for while.  Fortunately or unfortunately I was working at a place that had me so consumed that I didn’t have enough time to think about it.  We did manage to go and visit him back in February of this year (2012) and the antics picked up exactly where they left off.  I think he got taller, he definitely got handsomer, and he was the perfect gentleman he always was.

What has changed is that I now get texts from him as he visited his first strip club.  5am his time and pictures, no less to go along with them.  I am 4k miles away asking him to please collect his friend from being face down on the floor (EWWWWWWW!) and get in a cab to get home.  He was so excited and proud of the strip club experience, one that he could not share with his real mom.  Wait, What?   He is preparing to enter college in the spring and become a doctor.  YES!  A surgeon no less, and my heart overflows with joy and awe of this exceptional young man who gets that working hard pays off, but life is short and should be lived with zeal.  I would just like to keep that zeal out of strip clubs………

 

 

PorkSlap

Slap My Pork

It has been months since I have written, I blame it on obtaining new slacker skillz taught to me by the boy :).  Actually, a new job consumed much of my time, and the spare time was spent getting into something with the boy to ensure the whole and true Americana experience.  Case in point: Today.  The boy's parents have been over here for just about two weeks.  They do not speak any English, but truly are the loveliest people you could ever meet!   I have learned to make coffee comparable to  jet fuel for his dad and it has been great.  During their visit, his parents have fallen in love with American Diners, visiting at least 6 of them.  We took them down to the Trolley Car Diner this morning.  This particular diner has 250+ beers (hooray!)  The hubs was looking at the list and I zero in on the Porkslap beer.  This triggers one of my infamous giggling fits, which the boy chimes in and says, "how would I slap my pork?"  I elegantly fell off my stool, tears streaming down my face in laughter and begging the hubs to explain what he had just said and not to say it again.  Well, he said it again until I finally managed to get out "We'll have our brother in law who is a master wordsmith explain to him this afternoon what it meant."    The explanation from my brother in law went eloquently like this, (I am falling to pieces as I type this, my cheeks are up in my eyes from laughter)  "Well, you know when you want to be alone either in your room, or the bathroom with your manparts, that would be slapping your pork."

The Slacker is Back....

The Slacker Is Back

Geez.....over 6 weeks since I last posted.  Its not that things haven't been funny, but they have been sort of routine?

The boy has now been here 4 months and we found out he leaves on June 29th.  It is a date I can not even put into my thought process.  When I don't like days, I remove them from my calendar.  For many years I only had about 360 days a year :]   I have finally added a few back in, but now the 29th is banished.

I think we have just been partying and celebrating since Thanksgiving.  I really have no idea how any other exchange family could have more fun than us!

Thanksgiving......
We go BIG for Thanksgiving, this year, we entertained 39 people, and for the first time, I was able to sit with my guests and actually eat a meal from a plate instead of grabbing, running and shoving in my face.  The fried turkeys came into the house and out of nowhere, the boy is standing at the turkey ready with knife and fork.   My uncle managed to get the legs pulled off and the boy began cutting the meat directly off the bird and eating it.....right off the bird.....before it was carved.  He got down to the bone and explained to me that his dad said the best parts are next to the bone.  Knife to turkey, fork to turkey on bone, fork in mouth, repeat.  I let this go on for a few minutes out of shock and awe, then we removed the boy and his knife & fork from the turkey and the kitchen.

The In Between....
Football has ended and we had a few banquets to attend because his team won their district and made it into the playoffs.  It was neat to be part of the whole experience and I even met some cool parents along the way. I still can't picture myself like one of them, you know, a parent.  My maturity level is probably that of my neice, and we have our own language.  :)  The coolest part of everything....Coach gave the boy a Varsity Letter.   Yeah, yeah, I cried.  I was so grateful to this Coach for accepting the boy on the team, letting him play a few games and then giving him a letter.  Class act all the way.  Coach...I forgive you for the Labor Day incident.  I captured his plays on video thanks to my good friend.  I posted them on his website for his family to see.  Very, very popular boy in Germany and Russia these days......they don't need to know it was 4 plays at the very end of the JV game.  It could have been the Super Bowl for me.  Sappy, me?  He also has the football jacket now, with the leather sleeves, his name, number and of course the letter on the back.  <grin>

Telling Me What To Do? WHUUTTTT?

A few weeks back I caught my annual cold.  It knocked it out of me.  The boy has two parents that are physicians and veritable pharmacopias.  This kid has  drawer filled with pills with everything imaginable.  The best part about having a full drawer is that it allows the boy to keep his clothes on the floor and the chair where they belong.  In fact, he informed me that he lives out of a basket.  <screeeeeech>.  Since his arrival, I have seen his floor twice, I think.  Fleeting glimpses.......  But, I digress.  So, he shoves a couple of boxes in my hands as I was swaying from exhaustion.  He says, "These are pills, you will take them now."  The boxes are in German, so I have NO IDEA what I am taking.  He assures me they are safe, so down the hatch!  I am writing to you now, so I survived the German Pill experiment administered by Russian Ken doll.

In Russia....

To amuse me, and because his English continues to improve at an exponential rate, the boy speaks in a Russian accent.  He often sings a couple of lines of a tune or refers to "Mother Russia",  one of those things I will never tire of....it is of the dreaded "you need to be there" kind of references.  We were in the parking lot today of the Best Buy, and somehow got on the topic of baseball bats.  He comes out with "Did you know in Russia, there are 3.5 million baseball bats and only 3 baseballs?"  Who knew.  He proceeded to say, "Most prefer aluminum because they do not break over someone's head like a wooden one would."  Good To Know!  Thanks for the tip there Uncle Eddie......