Kürbisfest, again

005We love Kürbisfest.  This is the third year that we went to the one just outside of Vienna at Am Himmel, which this year was held the last weekend of October.  (Our first October, we also made the trek to Retz for the Kürbisfest there, and we planned to go back last year but got rained out.  This year, we kept it simple and just went to Am Himmel.)  Each time, it’s been just lovely, and now, after having been 3 times, we feel like we’re starting to master the art of attending this particular Kürbisfest.

011In German, a Kürbis is a pumpkin, so Kürbisfest is, principally, a pumpkin festival.  It’s more than that, too, though.  Besides the crates of pumpkins and gourds, the long tables set out for pumpkin carving, the pumpkin soup, pumpkin seed oil, pumpkin bread, pumpkin sausage and pumpkin seed pesto, there are all kinds of other vendors selling apples, grapes, candles, knit items, juices, ciders, wines and meats.  There are polka bands, face painting and kite-making tents.  There’s certainly a lot to do with pumpkins, but it’s really a celebration of everything autumnal from in and around Vienna.  And it’s pretty fantastic.

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This year, the day started cool and foggy, so we bundled up in the morning.  By the time we got out to the hills beyond Vienna, though, the fog had started to burn off and it got really quite warm.  We walked through the festival, and took in all of our favorite parts.  024The boys chose pumpkins.  Benjamin got his face painted (he went for an orange dragon this year — Liam opted out).  We all had some of our favorite Lángos (made fresh, and covered with garlic and pumpkin seed pesto) and some pumpkin soup.  We scooped and carved the pumpkins we had bought.  We shopped for Styrian ham and pumpkin seed sausage, as well as pumpkin seed pesto (which is my absolute favorite).  We sampled some fresh apple and grape juices while listening to live polka music and finally finished up with a stop at the playground, and then dragged ourselves back to the center of the city, exhausted but very happy with our day, and feeling very seasonally appropriate.

040This year, for the first time, we started to feel like we’d figured out some important things.  We went first thing in the morning (always our goal, but this year we actually managed it).  We made the playground the last stop in our day, not the first, so the kids weren’t worn out until it was time to leave.  We brought a backpack and a shopping bag to carry our purchases, and we hollowed out our pumpkins before carrying them home.  All important lessons, learned over the years!

This year, we truly had another great time.  It was a great day, and going to the Kürbisfest has become one of my favorite Vienna traditions.

Liam’s first field trip

Nearly two weeks ago, on a Thursday that was a brief island in the middle of the sea of illness that was most of October, both boys were well enough to go to school.  (It was the first time in about 10 days that that had been true.)  Liam had been better for a few days at that point, and I was really glad, because I didn’t want him to miss out on his first field trip with his class.

His class took a trip (which required a ride on the U-Bahn for the teachers and the 24 kids in the class) to see a theater performance.  I was simultaneously very excited for him and completely terrified.  He’s still so little.  He’s such a little guy to be out in the world without me.  I’m still adjusting to not being with him 24/7 — having him out in the city, experiencing things separate from me is a lot to handle.

He is still such a little guy.  Just barely 3.  He’s too little to speak up for himself or find his way if he got lost, and besides, his German is minimal (and he’s often hard to understand, even in English).  B, who is 5 now, can recite his address when asked in English or German and can explain how to get to his home or school on public transportation.  Liam can’t.  It’s scary to have him out of school on a trip.  I have to put a lot of faith in the teachers, and in God or the Universe or whatever forces might be looking over him.

I don’t know how the teachers manage it.  Some days, just dragging my two to school is enough to exhaust every ounce of patience and high-ideal parenting I have.  But they do make it work.  (There also seems to be some kind of magic power the teachers exert over the kids, because when I see kids out on field trips, they are always so well behaved.  It’s amazing.)

I couldn’t help it.  There was a knot in my stomach that didn’t unravel until Dan texted me that he’d picked him up.  As it turns out, the day was great.  They rode on the train and saw a play.  (I didn’t get much of the story except that there was a rabbit in it.  And there was a song that Liam keeps singing to us, but he doesn’t know the words, so I’m not sure of the story.  But he liked it.)  The teacher made a point of telling is that he was very attentive and well behaved.  And he had a great time.  I’m so glad!

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I couldn’t help but worry, but I’m so happy that he didn’t worry, and that he enjoyed himself so thoroughly (he’s still telling us about it).  Here, this is perfectly normal.  Preschool classes go on field trips all the time.  (Benjamin has been on dozens at this point.)  And kids as small as 3 go along, just fine.  Even though this is our third year of “school” here, we’re still getting used to the idea.  But, we’re doing better.  (This was certainly an improvement over Benjamin’s first trip.)  And Liam is doing just great at school . . . even on his field trips.  I am so very happy that it went well.

Pink eye

It feels like we spent at least half of September and October being sick.  In retrospect, I shouldn’t really be surprised — we pretty much did the same thing Benjamin’s first year of Kindergarten (preschool).  By exposing our little ones, who, up until then, had mostly just been home with me, to a classroom full of new kids (and new germs) it’s kind of inevitable that they will bring everything they encounter home with them and very generously share it with the rest of the family.  I thought that *maybe* it would be different this time — since Liam had already been exposed to all of the illnesses Benjamin brought home that first fall, I thought maybe he (and the rest of us) would already be immune to most of what he encountered and would mostly be spared.  Apparently not.

Most recently, we spent much of mid-October down for the count with some kind of cold/flu as well as pink eye.  (Unless they were just two different manifestations of the same illness, which is certainly also possible.)  Amazingly, I think it was the first time I’ve ever suffered from pink eye, and I know it’s the first time that my kids have.  Liam started getting sick our last morning in Sankt Koloman, and went on to have a week or so of a bad cold, a nasty cough and sticky eyes.  Benjamin and I caught it soon after, and we ended up with about a week where neither of the boys went to school, and over 2 weeks when at least one of us was sick.  (Dan, who seems to have a stronger immune system, escaped with a little congestion and a cough, but nothing too serious.)  I realized, after it was all over and we’d started to recover, that at that point I had not left the house in 8 days.  Not once.

It was fine, really, and we’re all (mostly) better now.  But it was a bit of a rough time while we were going through it.  It was a little bit tough to go back to having both boys home all day, just as I was getting used to having my mornings to myself.  And, since I was sick, too, all I wanted to do was to crawl back into bed in the morning, but it wasn’t to be.  I was a little worried that it would be hard to have them home — that I would have forgotten, in just a few weeks, how to have them both home and manage everything.  But it was fine (partly because I just ended up being ok with not managing everything).  Although I missed drinking my morning coffee without having to worry about where I set the cup, it was quite nice to go back to having them both home all day.  I love that they go to school, and I love that they have their friends and their teachers and that they enjoy it so much.  But, it was pretty great to get to spend all day with them.  (I just wish they hadn’t been sick.)

And it was a good reminder for me of how much I manage to get done in a typical day.  I think it’s sometimes easier to appreciate what I’m able to get done when I’m *not* getting it done — and certainly, the cleaning, errands and chores piled up during those weeks of us all being sick.  It was good for me to remember that I don’t spend my mornings without the kids just sitting around — there’s a lot that gets done during those hours (and a lot now to catch up on)!

Now, we seem to all be on the mend (I hope it’s really true).  I’m hoping we’ll all be able to get back into our new routine, and stick with it for a bit.  Hopefully we’ll all stay well for a while and be able to enjoy the rest of the fall.

Trattbergalm

For our last full day in the Alps south of Salzburg, we decided to drive up a mountain close to the farm where we were staying.  Twice before, we’ve stayed at this farm, and each time, we’ve attempted to drive up this mountain.  Both times before, we were thwarted by snow.

108The first time (last October), what was a gentle drizzle at the farm became an icy mess and furious flurries with seriously obscured visibility as we made our way almost to the top.  The second time (late last March), the road was simply impassable due to heavy amounts of snow.  But, the third time is theoretically the charm, so we decided to try again.  The weather was relatively warm (nearly 60 at the farm — closer to 40 at the top) and although there had been snow several days before, the forecast was for clear skies.  We went to the grocery store, selected picnic items, and set off.

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Unlike our previous attempts, this time the visibility was good, and we got to enjoy the view.  Every time we go up into the Alps, I’m amazed by the vastness of the expanse of peaks we can see marching off into the distance — although the valleys in between are cozy, with tiny towns, the mountains are jagged and gray and, even in mid-October, mostly snow covered.  They are intimidating, they are wild, and we were driving up the side of one of them.

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In addition to a criss-cross of stone, wood and wire fencing used to section off cattle who graze up here in the summer, Trattbergalm has lots of hiking/cross country skiing trails (all marked as “moderate” or “significant” challenges — in other words, not for hiking with the kids), several parking areas, and even a few mountain hut restaurants.  We found a parking area with a scenic spot nearby (with extra credit for the fences situated between us and the edge) and enjoyed our picnic overlooking a stretch of the central Austrian Alps.

131On our way back to the car, we were intrigued by a large-ish, furry looking, black and white shape coming down from the peak behind a couple of hikers.  Was it a dog?  It looked too big.  Was it a cow?  It moved pretty quickly for a cow on the kind of slope, and besides, they would have all gone back down to their valley or mountainside farms at the end of the summer.  Honestly, I was thinking it was a pony or maybe a small donkey, until it came farther down the slope and we saw that it was a (for real) mountain goat, with a black front half, a white back half and massive horns.

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After watching it descend the hill and wander towards the parking lot, we retreated to the car, but kept watching.  (None of my many pictures came out very well — I felt like I was trying to photograph the Loch Ness Monster.)  It wandered around the parking area for a bit, and then walked off down the road.  According to the hikers we saw coming down with it, they had climbed to the top of the mountain, and started back down when they suddenly realized there was this sizable goat following right behind them.  (That must have been pretty nerve-wracking!)

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After a bit, and a short way (away from the goat), we got back in the car and drove on (after the goat) and eventually came to end of the road.  We parked again and followed the path (and some signs) to a mountain restaurant where we enjoyed mugs of hot 148chocolate while the kids played on the playground and washed their hands in mountain spring water.  It had gotten quite chilly as the sun set behind the peak, and we soon headed back to the car to warm up.

We had a great day — and I’m glad we finally made it up the mountain as far as we could drive.  So many of the things we’ve seen on these adventures seem so perfect, so lovely and exactly what we’d wish to see, that it’s hard to remember at times that they aren’t just a put on for the tourists.  The mountain goat, the Alpine view, the hot chocolate from the hut at the top of the snow-dotted mountain, the fresh mountain spring, the cattle grids for the cows that spend the hot summers on the top of the cool mountain … that’s just how it is there.  You start to 158wonder if there isn’t someone in the background saying, “Cue the goat!”, but it’s really just life in this part of the world.  We just happened to visit and get to enjoy it on a (relatively) warm Monday in October.

On the way back to the farm, we drove through a tiny town whose church bells were ringing the hour and past a pair of deer grazing along the side of the road without concern, neither of which did anything to erase the impression of too-perfectness.  But that’s how it was.  Just almost too perfect, and a wonderful end to this adventure in the mountains.

City mice

When I was little, I spent a few years living in the country.  And for my entire childhood (as best as I remember) I was happy to play in the dirt, walk barefoot in the grass, roll down hillsides, jump in leaf piles and splash in muddy puddles.  I don’t know if those early years living in the country set me on the path of being comfortable with nature, or if that was just always who I was going to be.  Certainly, as the years went on and I became completely enamored of and quite involved in the world of horses, I became even more comfortable with all of the things that outdoor life includes — dirt, bugs, heat, cold, splinters, mosquito bites, an occasional wild animal, and a rare but real need to be capable of some level of first aid and crisis management.

032In my vision of life as a parent, I always imagined my kids would be like me.  Dirt, bugs, weather, outdoors — no problem.

Not so.

Although I’ve done so far (I think) an amazing job of raising kids who are great travelers, have open minds, and who really know how to roll with it when things don’t go according to plan, they are, in different degrees, not so much down with “nature”.  Don’t get me wrong — they like playing outside and generally being outdoors, but only as long as there is not too much dirt, too many animals (wild or domesticated, but dogs are ok) or pretty much any bugs at all.

033I think it’s all the city living.  Sure, we VISIT the countryside — we hike, and play, and stay on working farms — but we come back to our attic apartment in the chic downtown of one of the cleanest, nicest and safest cities I’ve ever seen.  While at home in the US, there would have been trips to the barn to visit the horses, pumpkin patches in the fall and berry picking in the spring, outdoor swimming pools, camping trips and even just visits to Grandpa’s house (which has a yard and a very cool tire swing), here there is none of that.  Pumpkins and Christmas trees have been picked and cut before we buy them, the swimming pools are indoors, horses pull carriages and are not to be touched, and camping is something we do in our living room.

034This most recent trip to Sankt Koloman reminded me of how much my boys are “city mice”.  The farm we stayed on is a working organic farm.  They have cats (including a kitten who was a big hit with the kids), rabbits, chickens (Benjamin collected the eggs for our breakfast one day), goat and cows.  Both boys were intrigued by the animals (watching the cows get milked was the highlight of Benjamin’s trip, and Liam keeps asking where the kitten is) but they were not fond of the mud on their boots nor the inevitable bees and flies that come from being in the country in nice weather.

040I suspect this will change on its own after we go back to the US.  Before we left, our lives in the States included experiencing a lot more of nature, more regularly, than we do now.  I imagine it will again.  I really hope my boys will learn that the bees and bugs and dirt are all a small price to pay for the joy of being outdoors.  Really, I know they will — and I suspect that in a few years, when I’m pulling dead beetles out of the lint filter on the dryer, I’ll laugh at myself for ever thinking that they might not.

Hallstatt

After our chaotic first day of our most recent trip to the Salzburg area, I was really looking forward to doing something fun.  Our plan for the second day was to visit Hallstatt, a tiny, ancient town in the Salzkammergut.

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Golling, on the way to Hallstatt from Sankt Koloman

Hallstatt has been on my list of places to visit since we first began to even consider a move to Austria.  One of the first things we did when we started pondering our relocation was to watch Rick Steves’ program about Austria.  That first information inspired many of our early explorations here (including our bike trip along the Danube last year).  I came away truly charmed by the idea of Hallstatt, and I knew we’d want to go while we were here.  So far, it was the last remaining place on that first list we made of places to see, and it was actually the main inspiration behind this particular weekend away.  I didn’t want to risk NOT seeing it while we live in Austria, especially since I’ve truly been looking forward to it from the beginning.

074It lived up to every expectation.

We were in the mountains, to be sure.  It was several degrees colder when we got out of the car than it had been when we got in, and the height of the peaks, coupled with the already decreasing height of the sun’s arc through the sky meant that the sun set and rose again several times during our visit.

We started (as we so often do) with a stop in the playground in the neighboring town of Lahn.  Vehicular traffic is severely limited within Hallstatt, so you have to park in the next town over and walk.  Along the way, we were greeted by swans, and we were completely charmed by our lakeside stroll to a town that looks more genuinely “Austrian” than any we’ve seen.

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It’s not hard to believe that Hallstatt has been there a long time.  As Rick Steves points out, “There was a Hallstatt before there was a Rome”, although train service there didn’t begin until the late 1800s.  The labyrinth of winding, narrow streets, lined by gabled r087oofs and wooden-shuttered windows fronted by flower boxes full of pink, purple, white and red, and nearly absent of cars, made us feel like we’d stepped into another time.  Walking along the lake edge (there are only two streets that really cut lengthwise through the town — one along the lake, one up on the hillside) we were followed by hopeful swans, and we ended up in the main square, which was probably the most picturesque we’ve found in all of our travels.

I absolutely loved Hallstatt.  I loved the smell of the wood smoke, the gurgle of the waterfall the falls from the mountaintop behind the town, the rush of the crystal clear streams that rush through the town (and beneath many of the houses).  We spent a beautiful day there.  I’m so 091glad we went.

We ended our day at the docks, looking back over the town and dangling our (booted) feet in the water (trying to convince the ducks and swans that our rubber boots were not good to eat).  The moon rose over the mountain, and it got very chilly as the autumn evening fell, but it was perfect, beautiful and peaceful in Hallstatt.  (Of course, my phone ran out of battery about halfway through the day, so I don’t have nearly as many pictures as I’d like.  That’s ok.  I don’t think I’ll forget.)

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Guest post: re: packing

And here is Dan’s perspective on the packing and general chaos of last Saturday.

Faithful readers of AMommyAbroad will already be aware that I was entrusted with packing for our latest trip. Emily, with great serenity, stepped aside and allowed me to do it my way with no interference.

For reference, Emily’s way somewhat resembles a military commander marshaling her forces for a campaign. Elements are gathered at staging locations at least a week in advance, deploy in-theater a day or two in advance, and culminate in an unstoppable onslaught of preparedness and organization.

Myself, well, I’ve always appreciated the benefits of that level of organization, but I’ve also felt it took too long, was too stressful, and we took too much stuff. At the same time, I never offered to do it because the sheer number of distinct items needed to make traveling with kids go smoothly boggled my mind and I couldn’t imagine thinking of it all. Emily was always the clear choice of packer.

However, it’s a lot more work than all other pre-trip tasks combined (except maybe planning the trip, which Emily also does), so when Emily suggested I pack for this trip – a short in-country trip to a place we’d been before – I thought it would be a good chance to pull my own weight.  Emily would make sure our dog, Bailey, was taken care of, and I would pack for the family.

This wasn’t a test, or punishment, so Emily was happy to be a resource. She answered questions about where to find things like the boys winter wear and provided her most recent packing list.

I knew I would pack in a fraction of the time that Emily took. I knew we’d bring less stuff. I hoped, that with a skillful application of Pareto’s Law, I’d do a good job and we’d have everything we needed.

I came home early from work the evening before we left and started packing. I initially worked without a list, simply trusting to intuition informed by all the trips we’d been on before. I gathered almost everything we needed pretty quickly – a few hours with breaks for dinner and whatnot. But then I had to stop for movie night and then putting the boys to bed. By the time I resumed packing, it was after midnight. And Emily soon wanted to go to bed. I piled everything I’d gathered into a suitcase and brought it and two vacuum storage bags of winter clothing out to the living room and proceeded to finish.

Oh, that sucked.

Of course I’d left the hardest stuff for last. And trying to be quiet so as not to disturb a sleeping house while searching through crinkly plastic bags and hallway chests was a huge pain. The whole process became painfully slow and frustrating, which, combined with that whole it’s-past-1-AM thing, sapped my motivation and I slowed down, which just made it all worse. Finally, satisfied I’d gathered (but not packed) everything, I spent too much time on FaceBook. And then went to bed. At 03:18.

In the morning, the remainder if what I had to do delayed us probably close to an hour, which I didn’t feel too terrible about. We were, for the first time, renting a car in Vienna and driving to out destination, so we weren’t on a strict schedule. And Emily was being very understanding.

So, about an hour late, I went to pick up the car, discovering, as I was walking out of our courtyard while looking up the address of the rental car place, that I had somehow rented the car for a weekend two months in the future.

Er.

I went back inside and made an embarrassed call to Sixt which rectified the situation. We’d get a slightly nicer car and have to pay ~100 € extra. I left again.

The Vienna City Sixt didn’t have a car in that class yet and I’d have to wait until one arrived from the airport.

Er.

Emily was still understanding, but keeping two boys who were very excited about vacation and the car Daddy was going to bring home from tearing the house apart like two lion cubs made of flubber was started to take its toll.

But, earlier than they’d said, the car arrived! And a child’s seat! And a piece of styrofoam! Wait, what? “That’s the booster seat.” “You don’t have one of those, you know, more substantial booster seats…with the back and arms?” Nope. Okay…

I installed the seat and tossed the styrofoam in the back and drove home. Thank God for built-in nav; Vienna is *not* friendly to cars and it took me as long to drive the convoluted route home as it would have taken without the car.

Emily was not happy about the styrofoam. I put B in it and it seamed to be safe enough, but, given Em’s discomfort, I decided to drive us back to Sixt to ask for a child’s seat. Good thing too…the booster seat only kept Benjamin safe as long as he sat up straight…not something a tired 5-year-old is going to realistically do for a 3-hour drive.

The Vienna City Sixt was, after calling around, able to locate a child’s seat at the Westbahnhof Sixt. So we drove there (again, thank God for nav) and picked it up and installed it and had a late lunch as we were all starving.

We finally left Vienna.

…5 hours later than planned.

We arrived at Grubsteighof at night, having had to scramble to find groceries and dinner before everything closed (which they do in Austria on Saturdays).

Oy.

I forgot story books for the boys. I forgot my razor. One morning Liam wanted comfy shorts I elected not to pack. Liam slept in comfy pants on our last night because his diaper had leaked the night before and his only pair of pajamas got wet. We couldn’t offer the boys sunglasses because I didn’t pack them. There’s a good chance they wouldn’t have worn them, but still. The boys were congested and I didn’t bring their decongestant spray.
I didn’t bring a roll of paper towels for the car. I packed a dozen folded up in a suitcase instead, but, while that space-consciousness makes sense for air travel, it doesn’t for a car trip. A full roll would have made all the difference if we’d been hit with stomach viruses like we were on our first UK trip.

More disappointing, I didn’t include the boys in picking out what to bring. They like having a say in what they wear, and it gives them a sense of ownership to share in the preparations.

What else? Oh, I packed two right snow boots of different sizes for Liam. Em caught that before we left and fixed it.
I laid out a dirty onesie for Liam to wear the day we left. Em caught that too.

What have I learned? Well, leaving the packing to the last minute didn’t cause the problems with the rental car (I normally do a good job with that, by the way), but it meant we started the day off-balance to begin with. Not how you want to feel when there are problems to be dealt with. And it meant that I didn’t check everything, and so I didn’t catch my mistakes. Some of the things I forgot were actually on the packing list Em gave me.

I’ve also learned that packing in one shot is indeed more efficient than packing over the course of days when you have children. Emily always has a lot of work to do protecting her staging areas so they don’t get knocked over or have small items pilfered by curious boys, and she always has to make sure the bed is clear at the end of the day so we can sleep on it. A one-shot job avoids that.

But I probably won’t ever do it that way in the future. Again, it’s the kids. There’s too much to Daddy work to do in the evening, every evening, for me to just add a full packing job in there, even with Emily’s support. And if the hypothetical one-shot job is the night before we leave, then I run the risk of discovering I need something we don’t have. If it’s not the night before, then I’ll have all the same work of protecting my packing job for a couple of days.

I want another chance. Not the next trip, because that’s a big one and I plan to just be as supportive and helpful as possible given my new-found appreciation for the difficulties involved. But the next trip after that, I want to try again.

Wish me luck!

The lost day

I had a plan.  (I always have a plan.)  The dog sitter was coming at 8:30 to pick up Bailey, Dan needed to pick up the car, we would have some last-minute packing to do, we all needed to have breakfast, and Dan and I each needed a shower.  I set my alarm for 7:30, with a goal of leaving the house at 10:00, but I really wanted to be on the road to Salzburg by 11:00.  We’d have a busy morning, but not a crazy one.

But, things did not go according to plan.  Dan, who was in charge of packing for this trip, left everything until the last minute.  The morning became a flurry of tracking down boots (Dan had packed two right foot boots in two different sizes for Liam), finding winter clothes and accessories not yet unearthed from last winter, and keeping the kids out of piles of semi-organized but as yet unpacked clothes.  But the last-minute packing was to be the smallest of our delays for the day.

Running only a little late (the 10:00 departure time was now impossible, but leaving at 11:00 was still a reasonable goal), Dan left to pick up the rental car from the other side of central Vienna.  And then he came right back, because he realized that he had booked the car for the wrong dates.  A somewhat frantic Germenglish phone call to the rental car company later, and he was off again, with a new car reserved.  Except that when he got there, it wasn’t there.  They had arranged to have the car brought over from another location (at the airport) but it wouldn’t be there … until noon.

Our schedule was quickly slipping away.  But Dan managed to get the car, install the two rented car seats, and get back to us by shortly after 12:30.  We were late, but it was still manageable.  We could still arrive by late afternoon, with time to relax before dinner.  We gathered up our things, got the shoes on the kids and went downstairs to pack the car … only to discover we had the wrong car seat for Benjamin.

We’ve run into this before.  B is quite small and light for his age, so when we reserve the correct seat for him and also provide his age, they second-guess us and provide him with a booster (appropriate for a bigger child, but also technically ok for a 5 year old).  Of course, he saw it and was so excited to have a “big kid” seat, so I was the most unpopular mommy (and wife) when I insisted we take it back and switch it for a regular car seat.

Of course, the original rental place didn’t have an appropriate seat, so we had to pick it up at yet another rental location.  The one *they* had was too small for B, though, so we had to switch Liam to the new seat and put B in the one that had been “Liam’s”.  Sigh.

At this point, we were exhausted, starving, and still in Vienna.  What’s another 40 minutes, though?  So we stopped for lunch.

At 3:45, we were finally all in the car, strapped into appropriate seats, fed, and on our way.  Nearly 6 hours after we had planned to leave.  6 hours late for a just-over-3-hour trip (really, closer to 4 hours with several bathroom breaks).  We could have almost driven to Salzburg and back in the time it took us to get out the door.

In all, it felt like the day that we didn’t have on our trip.  Instead of a leisurely drive, stopping as we liked along the way, we instead started out tired and wishing we were already at our destination.  Instead of having time to play and shop for groceries when we arrived, it was a stop at McDonald’s for dinner and then nearly straight to bed.

This was a hard one.  I try to be flexible.  I try not to let circumstances, mistakes or other frustrations take away from my experience of the moment.  I try to stay mindful of the fact that although our day did not go as intended, nothing actually bad happened.  I try to remember that we will remember this as a great, fun, relaxing trip, and that if remember the day spent watching tv and wandering through Vienna at all, it will probably be with humor.  It truly was a fine day.  At the end, we were safe and happy and where we wanted to be.  But this was a tough one for me in terms of staying positive and choosing to be happy.  I managed, but it wasn’t easy.

Role reversal

We travel pretty frequently.  As someone who has distinct memories of a week-long near panic of overwhelmedness the first time we flew to Florida as a family (and that was just with Benjamin), I can say we’ve gotten this pretty well down to a science.  It is something that gets better (and easier) with practice.  We’ve learned what and how to pack.   We’ve learned how to choose a great hotel and the most functional transportation for our purposes.  We’ve learned that almost anything that seems like a major crisis (head injury at Edinburgh Castle, ER trip in the States, vomiting across England, child who cries all night on the sleeper train, all of our luggage lost on the first day of a 17 day trip) can be overcome, and will even be funny in hindsight.

Honestly, I feel like we’ve got a relatively expert handle on traveling with the kids.  But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t take a TON of work to pull it off.  For a week-long trip (or longer), I start packing and organizing at least 2 weeks before we leave. I strategize which clothes will wear the best (and longest), how to be efficient without being spartan, and how to cover our bases for as many weather situations as possible.  (And, I’ve watched too many episodes of shows like “Survivorman” and “I Shouldn’t Be Alive”, so I secretly harbor an illogical belief that we could, on any trip, conceivably end up stranded on a snowy mountainside for days.)  I prepare.  I plan.  I’ve gotten really good at it.

We’re going away this weekend.  Dan has a day off next week, so we’re taking a long weekend and going to our favorite working farm outside of Salzburg, with plans to spend a day in Hallstatt, which we’ve always wanted to visit.  It’s a short trip, so we don’t need a ton of stuff.  We’ve stayed in this place before, so we know what they already have.  We’re renting a car, so we have lots of flexibility with schedule and space (we only have to carry the luggage downstairs, and it doesn’t matter how many trips it takes).  Also, the area where we’ll be has lots of shops, so nothing that we forget will be a major problem.  This is a much easier endeavor than our usual long trips that involve train or air travel.

So, this time, Dan is in charge of packing.  He’s been wanting to give it a try, and I’m enthusiastic to give him a chance (partly because I think he’d going to be a bit more impressed by how hard it is once he’s done it, and partly because he tends to create shortcuts I don’t think of).  I made the hotel reservation and he rented the car (our usual duties) but he’s packing for himself and the kids, and I’ve made arrangements for Bailey (which is our switcharoo for this time).

There is no question in my mind that I won out on this deal (although that’s only because I typically do the proverbial heavy lifting in this equation).  I started packing for myself yesterday morning and was shocked when I was mostly finished 10 minutes later.  All of my stuff (including the snow pants I’m bringing, just in case) would fit in my medium-sized backpack with a fair bit of room to spare.  I can pack the few things I have left (the things that have to wait until the last minute) in 10 minutes (or maybe less).  I’m ready to go.

We leave tomorrow.  The packing for the rest of the family . . . hasn’t started yet.  I’ve done mountains of laundry, so Dan has all of the supplies he needs, he just hasn’t packed anything yet.  There was a time in my life when I would have been stressed out completely at this point, and probably would have started doing it myself.  But, not today!  I know Dan, and I know that he will, in some way that seems miraculous, make this all work.  I know it’ll work out.  And I suspect we’re both going to learn something from this.  (For instance, I already know that I don’t have to start packing 2 weeks ahead of time.  It remains to be seen whether this turns out to be a superior plan, though!)

You know you’ve lived in Vienna for a while when . . . (part 2)

Ok, I had so much fun with yesterday’s post, here are some more.

You know you’ve lived in Vienna for a while when . . .

. . . you have no idea how (or why) people survive without 6 weeks of vacation, plus sick time, plus maternity and paternity leave
. . . you’ve almost gotten used to writing your dates “backwards”
. . . whenever you refer to “home”, you have to specify where you mean
. . . you think in Celsius
. . . “hot” and “cold” weather now mean very different things (both colder than they used to)
. . . half of your English has become British English, just because it’s easier
. . . you have an accent that no one can place
. . . you’ve become very, very punctual — you apologize for being even 2 minutes late
. . . you cringe when people from home mix up Austria and Germany
. . . you aren’t surprised to see a dog anywhere
. . . Lederhosen kind of make sense and Dirndls seem appropriate for any occasion
. . . it seems perfectly normal that it should take over 2 hours to wash a load of laundry
. . . you know that the customs line at the airport is only for tourists
. . . you fully expect that shop hours will be religiously adhered to, but the opening hours of anything administrative are only a vague suggestion

(More to come!)