Category Archives: Adventure in Vienna

Guest post: re: packing

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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

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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

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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)

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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!)

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

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As an American expat living in Vienna, there are a lot of things that seemed strange to me 2 1/2 years ago that don’t anymore.  I’ve changed, I’ve adjusted, I’ve gotten used to a lot of what used to be odd about living here.  I imagine that this progression is pretty common among expats who find themselves newly at home in Vienna (not just those of us from America).  And, so, I present . . .

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

. . . you can say the number six without giggling in your head
. . . vanilla ice cream that tastes like lemons seems normal to you
. . . you carry an umbrella everywhere
. . . you never trust a weather report . . . not even one that is just reporting the current weather
. . . you know to walk well away from building overhangs in the winter (Achtung! Dachlawine!)
. . . you know to always check both ways, even when crossing a one way street
. . . you know that you can smell a horse a block away (or further)
. . . you know that deodorant is optional for far too many people
. . . you start to be more surprised by children who wear swimming suits than by those who don’t
. . . nudity at the pool or the lake seems perfectly normal
. . . you know that stocking up on milk and bread has to happen on Saturday morning . . . along with everyone else in Vienna
. . . you only vaguely remember what it is like to wait in an orderly line
. . . you can tell the time by the church bells near your house
. . . 24 hour time seems normal
. . . so does crossing your sevens

(More to come!)

Another haircut adventure

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It had been too long.  One of the great things about wearing my hair long-ish (I can’t think of it as “long” because this is nothing compared to the waist-length hair I had in my younger days) is that I can get away with an incredibly long time between hair cuts.  My first experience getting my hair cut in Austria did NOT go well, so after that, I waited and got it cut again when I was home in the States.  That was great, but I haven’t been home in over a year, and it was (past) time.

So, I decided to be brave and try again here in Vienna.  I asked around and got three good recommendations.  Unfortunately, I ignored all of them.  Instead, I went to a place I found on my own.  They sell the (ridiculously expensive) hair products that I like, the salon is clean, busy and professional, the owner speaks English well and was nice enough to give me a consultation free of charge.  So, I made an appointment with her.

I thought, “This will be great!”  I knew exactly what I wanted — a haircut I’ve had before.  I brought pictures.  Pictures of ME with the haircut from before.  That has to work … right?!?

What I wanted

What I wanted

The haircut I wanted was a pretty drastic difference from what I’ve had recently — chin-length instead of long.  My hair, which is usually easy to maintain, does not like the water here (great for drinking, tough on hair) so I just wanted to chop it off and make things simpler.  Besides, this way, I didn’t have the uncertainty of “will that look good on me” because I’ve had it before.  I know it works.

I was so hopeful.

My experience in the salon was great.  They were (of course) right on time, and I talked to the stylist, who was surprised at how much I wanted cut off, but who chopped off most of the length anyway and sent me off for a thorough (American style) shampooing.  In fact, the salon was very reminiscent of fancy salons I’ve been to in the US — they even offered me espresso or prosecco while I waited!  When my hair was all clean, I had another great talk with the stylist (the owner) who really seemed to get what I was asking for.  She cautioned me about all of the things I knew to be true about the style I was asking for — I wouldn’t be able to put it back in a ponytail, she’d have to cut out a lot of the fullness in my hair to keep it from being poofy, etc.  I was ok with all of it — that was what I wanted.

She cut and cut.  It took a while.  It really looked promising.  I felt like she was leaving the front a little long, but I was even ok with that, because the back felt short enough.  She finished the cut, blew it dry, and cut some more.  But when she was done, it just wasn’t right.  It was still way too long, and, despite her warnings, it came out pretty fluffy anyway.  I was kind of hoping that when I came home and did it myself, it would look more like how I wanted it, but no luck.  It’s too long.  It actually reminds me A LOT of the failed haircut I had here 2 years ago.  It’s like the standard-issue Austria haircut for Americans.  I don’t like it.  Seriously — why is this so hard?  I see Austrian women on the street with good hair . . . where do they get it cut?!?

What I got

What I got

Alas, no luck again for me with Austrian haircuts.  Still, unlike my first haircut here, I feel like it looks better now than when I went in, it’s just not what I asked for.  I’ve learned my lesson.  I’m going to wait until I’m home to get my hair cut.  And if I *do* decide to do it here again, I’m definitely going with a salon recommended by a friend with great hair.  No more being clever and adventurous for me again . . . at least, not with my hair.

Celebrating Liam’s birthday

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Happy birthday to Liam!  Just over a week ago, my little guy turned the big 3.  It is amazing and wonderful to watch him grow up.  (He’s getting so big!)

014The birthday celebration didn’t quite go as planned, though.  Our original intent had been for all of us to take the day off and to spend the day at the zoo (per Liam’s request).  In the days leading up to his birthday, though, he was quite sick with no indications of a miraculous, overnight recovery.  So, we changed the plan.  We certainly weren’t going to spend the day at the zoo, and since B was going to have to miss a field trip at school that day, we decided instead that B would go to school, Dan would work for the morning, Liam and I would stay home, and then we would all take the afternoon off to be together and celebrate.  It seemed like a good plan.

071But then, Liam woke up on his birthday, and our plans had to change.  He was happy and excited that it was his big day.  He was tired and still sick, but he was starting to feel better.  And though he seemed completely unbothered by rescheduling our zoo trip, he was very disappointed that we weren’t all spending the day together.  B was too.  All Liam wanted for his birthday was his brother to stay home with him.  They were both very sweet and very sad.  How could we say no to that?

So, we changed the plan again.  We agonized a bit over the decision, but ultimately, we called the school (and got lectured a bit by the principal who reminded us how important this year of school is for B), notified Dan’s work, and spent the day at home together.  If what Liam wanted for his birthday was the day spent together, then that’s what we’d do.  And if we had to seem a little flaky to work and school to make it happen, then so be it (it was a little tough for us to truly be ok with that, though).  Liam only gets one 3rd birthday, after all.

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It was a lovely birthday.  We opened presents, the boys helped me finish the cake, and we got to Skype with Grandma.  We snuggled and watched tv and rested much more than is usual for our family on a birthday.  It could not have been better.  It was a great and happy birthday.  And, in retrospect, I’m so glad we decided as we did.  I would much rather feel a little sheepish at calling school and work at the last minute than regret not making ourselves a bit uncomfortable in order to give Liam what he wanted most for his birthday — the day with his family.  (And we’ll go to the zoo this weekend, assuming everyone is well.)

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(And, as it turns out, all was well.  B didn’t miss anything earth-shattering that day at school, Dan didn’t miss anything important.  The next day, Liam was feeling well enough to go to school, and his teacher and classmates greeted him with their own birthday celebration, including pumpkin muffins baked by the class.  It was a pretty perfect birthday, after all.)

Double Eltern Abend

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Last week we had our third Eltern Abend (literally: “Parents Evening”, think: “Back to School Night”) at the boys’ school.  It’s a chance to meet the teachers, learn about the program, write down the important dates, find out each teacher’s preferences and way of doing things, and ask our own questions.  It’s great to get the opportunity to do all of these things … but the catch is that it’s done ENTIRELY in German.  At the end there’s always some time for individual questions, which can be asked and answered in English, but up until that point, it’s roughly 2 hours of important information, all in Deutsch.  It’s intense.

To add to the intensity, this time I had to split my time between two classes.  We had planned to have a sitter come be with the kids so that Dan and I could both go and each sit in a class, but Liam was still quite sick, so Dan stayed with the boys and I went on my own.

I opted to go to Liam’s class first, since I already know B’s teachers and how his class generally works.  And I’m proud to say that the whole thing went pretty well.  In Liam’s class, there were at least three other sets of parents who don’t really speak German (and I think there are seven kids in Liam’s class — including him — for whom German is not their first language).  I think I understood better than the non-German speakers and I was even able to translate a bit for some of the others.  I understood every single word that the principal said (might be the first time I ever managed that) and I got at least the main ideas from the teachers.

I did the first hour in Liam’s class and then switched to B’s, and then went back to see Liam’s teacher for follow-up questions.  She was impressed at how much I got from the presentation, and she very patiently explained the parts I had missed.

Overall, it was really a great success.  I was able to participate in the parent exercises for both classes, and I feel great about the classes, the teachers and the school.  I’m even starting to know some of the other parents.  It was a nice feeling to come in and get greeted and waved to — that didn’t happen for the first few years (and Austrians aren’t really casually friendly to people they don’t know, so it felt a little lonely the first few times).  This was a nice change, and it felt like a success all around.  I feel prepared (or at least as much as possible) for the year, and I’m glad I was able to be there, and to understand most of it, for the boys.

(And then, when I got home, while Dan put the boys in the bath, I baked a cake for Liam’s birthday, which was the next day.  I pretty much felt like Super Mom after that!)

Vienna Masters 2013, parts 2 and 3

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Almost 2 weeks ago, Elaine and I went to see part of the Vienna Masters horse show here in Vienna.  We had a great time, and I (of course) wanted to see more.  I had planned to go back the next morning during the free program, but that was the day the kids and I first got sick, so that didn’t work out.

I figured I’d be feeling better after a day of rest though (which turned out to only kind of be the case) so I bought a ticket for the evening performance, while Dan watched the kids.  (Which works out, because although the boys might sit through an hour of “watching the horsies”, the only way I was going to get to binge on watching show jumping was to go alone.)

023It was great.  Many of the top riders in the world were competing there.  I got to see amazing, inspiring, edge-of-my-seat performances.  I loved it.  It felt good to be back in the horse world, even as a spectator, after so long away.  (It was also raining.  And pretty cold.  Which I usually wouldn’t mind, but I don’t think sitting outside in the cold and damp for 5 hours probably did much to shorten the duration of my cold.)

I learned a few things while I was there, watching from the front row.  First, horse people don’t keep quiet here when they’re watching a horse competition, any more than they do at home.  We cluck, gasp, correct, encourage and groan at the horses and riders at the same moments.  And, we do so with the same *exact* noises here as at home.  I thought that maybe since Austrians are quieter in general, I might have to hold my tongue or be embarrassed by my involuntary outbursts.  But no, I fit in just fine!

029It was a lovely night.  In addition to the major show jumping competitions, I got to see some show pieces, too, including a drill team with 6 horses but only 2 riders, a vaulting demonstration that included a guy who strongly reminded me of a grown-up Benjamin, and four young guys who jumped 1.8 m fences … on their own two feet.  All of it impressive.

I had such a great time that even though we were all still under the weather, we took the kids over to watch part of the show on Saturday morning.  They were pretty interested in the jumping, but they faded after about an hour, and we headed home, but not before Benjamin asked me if maybe he could do a horse show after we move home.  (Not going to lie — that would be pretty fun.)

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After a great time last year, I managed to go to the Vienna Masters a total of 3 times this year — not bad, given the weather and our collective illnesses.  I’m so glad we were able to take advantage of the opportunity to see such amazing performances, especially because it was basically in our own backyard.

Sick days

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The first two weeks of this school year were spent mostly acclimating Liam to school.  The week after that, I spent the first few days adjusting to the new schedule and sorting out exactly what I was going to do with my time.  And then, the Thursday of that third week, just as I was starting to enthusiastically embrace my “free” time, we started with the inevitable sick days that come along with a child starting school for the first time.

It’s just not possible for a child to start school without coming into contact with all manner of unfamiliar germs and illnesses that they have missed up until that point.  And what they get, they bring home to share with the family.  So we all get sick.  I’d been hoping we might miss out on a illness-filled September with Liam starting school — since B brought home so much sickness when he first started, I was hoping that maybe we’d already be immune to everything this time around.  (It doesn’t look like it works that way, though.)

It started with me.  That Thursday evening, I was miserable, and I went to bed at 9:15.  I was asleep before the kids were.  (I have no idea when, if ever, that has happened before.)  My plan was to sleep as long as I could, get up in the morning, take the kids to school, and then come home and go back to bed.  I was just sick with a bad cold, so I figured a massive dose of sleep would help.

It didn’t work out that way, though.  Instead of a long night’s rest, I was up with B at midnight.  He was crying from pain in his ear.  Liam was coughing.  We were sick, and no one was getting much rest.

The next morning, Dan (the only one who was still well) stayed home to take care of all of us.  He took the boys to the doctor while I went back to bed.  The kids were (surprisingly) given the all-clear.  Dan brought the boys home from the doctor and I was all set to take over for the afternoon . . . but I just couldn’t.  I was sick and exhausted — so it was back to bed for me and an afternoon off of work for Dan.

This began a week-long adventure of sick days — miserable days and sleepless nights, 104.8 degree fevers and trips to the pediatrician, days missed from school and a birthday for Liam with as much illness as merriment.  We’re just now starting to get back to our new “normal”.  It feels like we nearly have to start over in terms of sorting out our routine.  But, now that the boys are improving, I’m actually able to rest and recuperate a bit in the mornings, so hopefully we’ll all be on the mend, and we’ll be able to continue adjusting to our new schedule.