I was up early today, off to do some pickups on a voice job from a couple of months ago. Göteborg's usual weather is in effect. It's cold, grey and rainy. The canal is still frozen from last week, but the ice is now rotten and lurking under a thin film of collected drizzle. It looks like the water has fractures running through it.
My wife very kindly offered to do all the baby-related stuff through the night, on account of how I had to get up early. This didn't work out, not because baby was being boisterous or noisy, far from it. Instead, after an early night, I lay awake for about three hours in the small hours, desperately hoping she would wake up so I could leap out of bed and pick her up.
Several times, when she made tiny and slightly restless squeaks, I'd leap up, rubbing my hands together with glee, only to discover she'd disappointingly gone back to sleep. My wife kept having to talk me down. This is clearly ridiculous behaviour, but I really can't help it. God help me, I'm already addicted to nappy changing.
The voice work I do is all in English. I've found a handy niche doing corporate work, stuff for training programs and sales pitches. Things like 'Here's what our CEO has to say about environmental challenges facing the hotel business.' Not high art, exactly. Except that I'm doing it, which of course makes it so. Three years of classical training, darling. Everything I say is art.
Obviously, the people I'm working for are Swedish. We have little chats before and after a job, usually in my erratic Swinglish. A typical conversation might go something like this.
Studio Person - Hej! Hi!
Me - Hej, hur må du? Hi. How's it going?
SP - Bra, sjelv? Great! You?
Me - Bara bra, tack. All good, thanks.
SP - Pratar du Svenska? You speak Swedish? (this usually in the pleasantly surprised tone that foreigners all round the world adopt when they discover an English person speaks something other than English. We have a well-deserved poor reputation)
Me - Jag förstår lite, men jag pratar inte så mycket. I understand a bit, but I don't speak as much.
SP - Bra! Tja, jag får manuskriptet för denna morgon, kan vi ha en snabb titt på den och sedan kommer vi spela in en första tagningen. Var du i den här studion förra gången, eller den andra?
Well, I'll get the manuscript for this morning, we can have a quick look through and then we'll get on with it. Were you in this studio last time, or the other one?
Me - Förlåt, jag förstå inte. I'm sorry, I don't understand.
SP "Oh, sorry. We can speak English, if that's easier?"
Me - Det är bättre för mig att repetera min svenska, tack! It's better for me to rehearse my Swedish, thank you!
SP - Åh, just, ja. Jobbade du här förra gången? Oh, right, well. Did you work in here last time?
Me - Varsågod. Erm, ja, tack. You're welcome. Erm, yes, thanks.
SP "English really would be no problem."
Me - Jag måste försöka prata mer svenska. Jag är väl. Tack. I must try to speak more Swedish. I am well. Thanks.
SP - Okej... Tja, här manuset, du kan läsa. Okay... Well, here's the script, have a read through.
Me - Förlåt, jag förstår inte. Sorry, I don't understand.
And then we go round in circles until they just herd me into the studio and get on with it.
I find it fascinating to think that our daughter will be bilingual. We sat next to an English dad in the hospital a few weeks ago. His daughter spoke Swedish to him, he spoke English back, and there was clearly no problem at all. That's pretty cool.
Right now, language isn't really our daughter's thing, it's much less interesting than food or sleep. We communicate by trying things out and seeing how much disapproval she gives them. Warmth and milk = good, cold, being woken up or ignored = bad.
I spend a lot of time gabbling a narrative over the top of her confused and disbelieving looks, to establish what we're doing and why. She spends a lot of time furrowing her brow and rolling her eyes. Who's a cute little poop? Is it you? Is it? Is Daddy being silly? Yes, Daddy's being silly. Daddy does that a lot. You'll come to realise and appreciate this over the years.
I hope.
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