Haircut time!

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Liam, before

I think it must be innate — the weather gets warmer, the flowers bloom, and everyone decides they need a haircut.  (I think maybe it’s like shedding, for people.)  Dan has been talking about needing to cut his hair for weeks, I’ve been deciding if I want to brave getting my hair cut here again, and Liam’s hair has been starting to get too long even for my taste.

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Liam, after

The day before yesterday, I decided to tackle Liam’s hair (again).  I’ve cut it a few times before, under the general assumption that it’s hard to screw up curly hair too badly, but with my dual goals of keeping it out of his eyes and keeping the long curls, it has starting looking a little mullet-like after my attempts.  Before he starts school in the fall, I’ll probably resort to having him trimmed by a professional (which worries me, because I’ve had bad luck and heard bad stories, and I worry about his curls) but I decided to do it again this time, with a little more research beforehand.  As a result, I left the longest pieces on the top of his head pretty much alone and focused on trimming the pieces that fall in his eyes, as well as the long parts in the back that don’t really curl anyway.  I’m no stylist, but I think this was my best effort so far.

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Benjamin, before (please ignore the dinosaur)

B decided last night that he, too, needed a new haircut (perhaps inspired by Liam’s new style? . . . probably not) so he & Dan went to get their hair done today.  I was kind of surprised by how short of a style B chose, but he likes it a lot and I think he’ll be cool and cute for summer (it’s also the most popular style with the other boys at school, so I’m not THAT surprised).So now it’s just me! Maybe it’ll be my turn next . . .  Happy spring haircut season!

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B, after

Higher math for vacation

There has always been a certain amount of figuring to be done when it comes to vacation time.  It’s almost never as simple* as just determining when to use the two or four or six weeks of vacation time we have to spend.  I’ve had many years of practice figuring out when we’re going to earn the time versus when we’re going to spend the time, so that’s become routine.

This year, things have just gotten a lot more complicated.  In addition to Dan’s vacation time for the next year (6 weeks, earned at a rate of 2.5 days/month) we now also have to take into account the time B will be permitted to take away from school.  B gets 4 set weeks off, when the school is closed (2 at Christmas, 1 at Easter and 1 in early February for the semester break), and Dan gets 10 holidays throughout the year.  (B doesn’t get holidays, but there are 3 teacher work days when the school will be closed.  We don’t yet have those dates, and probably won’t until September.)  Additionally, B can take 3 weeks off at any time, plus any time he likes off during the summer (July and August), without penalty.  Dan having to work on a day B doesn’t have school is no big deal (but it would be nice to maximize our travel possibilities) but B having to go to school on a day Dan has a holiday would be kind of a bummer.

With me so far?  Because my brain has been trying to process all of this for the past few weeks and failing.  I finally sat down with a pen and paper today (and used actual Algebra!) to try to sort it all out.  I’m not complaining — I understand that this is a wonderful “problem” to have.  I’m just kind of surprised at how complicated it’s all gotten.  (I think I may need differential equations for next year.)

Mostly, I want to be sure that we are all able to take time off for Christmas, and at least two other travel weeks through the year (again, having to ensure we’re not planning to spend the vacation time before we’ve earned it) and that we don’t leave ourselves with a bunch of vacation time that we can’t use because either Dan or B can’t be away.  There’s just so much that we still want to see.

It’s basically a complicated logic puzzle, and I think I’ve finally solved it.  I think.  Now we get to figure out where we’re going to go.

 

* The one exception in my adult professional life was when I was teaching dance.  The vacation policy was so Draconian that there was nothing to plan.  We were simply assigned a week, twice a year (once at Christmas and once in the summer).  We were only informed of which week we’d been given a few weeks before it happened, and we just had to make the best of it.

Kinder Eggs

20130423-154836.jpgOf all of the sweets available here in Austria, I think the boys have become most fond of Kinder Eggs (as long as you don’t count gelato, which is definitely their favorite). For those who aren’t familiar with them, a Kinder Egg is a chocolate egg (about the size of a real egg) wrapped in foil, and inside the hollow egg is a plastic capsule that contains a toy. The toy is (by necessity) usually something very small, and found at random — there isn’t anything on the outside to indicate what kind of toy is inside — it could be a small race car, a figurine, a glider, a magnifying glass . . . I’m actually quite impressed at the variety of things we find in there. (Many of the toys come disassembled and need to be put together out of rather small parts. This is part of the reason for their ban in the US — in addition to a law from the 1930s forbidding any toy to be embedded inside of candy.)

The boys love them. The chocolate is reasonably good, but the combination of chocolate and toy surprise is irresistible to my kids. They have become the most common choice when they kids get to select their own treats from the store. Benjamin commonly asks for them in both English and German (“Kinder Eier”) which causes me to suspect that they are also probably a topic of conversation at school.

Last night, after dinner (and Kinder Eggs), we were talking with the boys about our friends who will be visiting from the US in a few weeks, along with their 3 year old daughter. The boys were discussing which toys they think she’ll like the best, and after hypothesizing that the race cars, trains and bikes will probably be her favorites, Benjamin said, “I know! I think she’ll like the Kinder Eggs the best! Do you think she likes Kinder Eggs?” to which I replied that I wasn’t sure she’d ever had one, because they don’t have Kinder Eggs in the US. Benjamin’s jaw dropped, and he said, with some awe, “Wow. Austria really DOES have some pretty good stuff.”

Ducklings

Just yesterday, I wrote about what sweet brothers my boys are to each other.  And, they are . . . most of the time.  But they have also reached that point, inevitable, I think, in the lives of siblings, where every time I leave the room, I return to, “Mom!  He broke it/threw it/sat on it/pushed me!” or some variant thereof.

It’s starting to make me a little crazy.  Some days, I can’t be out of the room for more than 30 seconds at a time without some disaster taking shape.

I have a pretty good idea of how most of these incidents transpire, because I imagine it’s pretty much the same as when I’m in the room:  either Benjamin tells Liam, one time too often, how to play or what he can’t play with, and Liam destroys whatever B was playing with; or Liam destroys whatever B was playing with without any provocation; or B decides that what Liam has happily been doing for half an hour is suddenly unacceptable and decides to throw a fit.  I can never tell, based on their reports (which are always skewed in B’s favor, owing to his superior communication skills) who was the true instigator.  So I’m left to put the pieces back together and get on with things . . . until something else happens 2 minutes later.

I’m bothered by the injustice of it.  I know they have to be able to work things out, to a certain extent, but I also know that without being there to witness what’s happening, I can’t be sure who is doing what to who, and I don’t want to arbitrarily impose consequences, nor do I want them to take advantage of my absence to be unkind to each other.  So, we now have a new rule in our house.  If the boys can’t get along without me in the room, then they just can’t be in a room without me.  Now, each morning, and then again after nap time, they get the chance to get along on their own when I have to leave the room.  If they demonstrate that they can’t, then they have to follow me around, wherever I go.  So now I have a lot of company (and “help”) as I go through my day.  I can keep an eye on everyone, and if they get tired of my very exciting daily routine, then they always have the option to get along and play instead.

I do feel a little like a mother duck going through the house with them trailing behind me, but it’s actually very sweet, and I like their company.  (And so far, they’re fighting less.)  Although, I’m guessing that they’re going to figure out, pretty soon, that the formula for more play time and less time following me around, is just to get along.

Adventures in brothering

Watching my boys be brothers to each other may be my favorite part of parenting so far.  Since Liam’s birth, they have been excellent brothers to each other (although I admit it was a bit one-sided back in the beginning).  Over the past 2 1/2 years, I’ve had the wonderful privilege to watch them grow closer, and learn to love each other more and more . . . while also learning more precisely how to drive each other absolutely crazy.  Benjamin has been looking out for Liam from the beginning (although B is very much the big brother and always wants to be fastest, biggest, and have the most toys).  Liam has been trying to be like B since he could conceive of rolling over.  They are incredibly sweet to each other, even sometimes when things get tough.

These are some of the recent highlights of inter-sibling communication from our house.

Me: “Who loves their brother?”  Both boys, screaming in unison: “Me!!!!”

B to Liam, after a frustrating morning: “I’m taking you to the grocery store and leaving you in the oranges.”

B, on movie night: “Liam, we’ve eaten almost all the popcorn, would you like to have some?”

Liam, at their last living room sleepover: “Benjamin, I like your sleeping bag.”  B: “I like yours just as well.”

Liam: “Benjamin, I love you. Benjamin, I love you. Benjamin! I love you!”  Me: “Benjamin, Liam said he loves you.”  B: “Yes. I heard him.”

B: “Liam, if you wake up in the night and you’re scared, I’ll be right here.”

I love these guys. I love how much they love each other. It’s great getting to watch them be brothers.

Nope nopey nope nope nope

Liam’s first word was “no”, and judging by the frequency with which he uses it, it’s still one of his favorites.  Sometimes, though, a simple no won’t do, so Liam has gotten creative.  He does a “no” accompanied by a full body shake.  He’ll spit his tongue out, raspberry style, as a no.  He’s recently started saying, “Well, maybe not”, but it doesn’t mean “maybe” anything, it means “you are NOT going to do THAT.”

My personal favorite is when, instead of just no, we get “Nope nopey nope nope nope.”  It means, of course, emphatically no, and the adults around Liam have started using it, too — I think each person in the family said it at least once on the Italy trip.

It’s really excellent and very multi-purpose.  Someone cuts in front of you in line?  Just say “nope nopey nope nope nope”.  The waitress tries to take your plate before you’re finished?  “Nope nopey nope nope nope.”  The kids try to climb the bookcase?  “Nope nopey nope nope nope, misters.”  You don’t want to eat your peas?  “Nope nopey nope nope nope.”.  It works for anything.

Visiting home

We weren’t planning to visit home this summer. I wanted to wait, until the fall or the winter, until the time of year when we most miss our family. I also wanted to wait until we had saved up some more vacation time — when we come, I want to be able to stay as long as possible.

I was thinking of coming home for Thanksgiving, or maybe Christmas, or maybe even Halloween, since we don’t get much of a Halloween celebration here. Christmas sounds the most tempting, because it’s a tough time to be away from home, but then, do I want to spend what might be our last Austrian Christmas away from Austria? (Of course, THAT was our reasoning for not going home this past Christmas, too.)

Mostly, though, we were pretty sure it wouldn’t be a summer visit. But then, while making our other summer plans, deciding when and where to travel, figuring out which weeks B will miss from school, Benjamin informed us that what he wants to do most for his birthday (in July) is go home to the US.

We were there last year for his birthday. We went to the beach, and had a fantastic time. There was sun, sand, surfing lessons, mini-golf, kite flying, cake, balloons, ice cream, and lots and lots of family. It was definitely wonderful.

So I don’t blame him for wanting to go home again. I just don’t know if we can make it happen. (In addition to vacation time issues, the financial aspect of a US trip in July vs. one in December is pretty different, in a much more expensive way.)

So now, we’re not sure. We’re working things out, but I don’t know what’s possible. I want to make his birthday wish come true, if we can . . . but I think he’d like waking up at Grandma’s house on Christmas morning, too. Whatever we do, it’ll be wonderful to be home . . . whenever we go.

Gelbe Gruppe

When I first decided to be a stay-at-home mom, shortly after Benjamin was born, it was my intention to stay home with him (we didn’t yet know that Liam would be arriving 2 years later) until he was about 4.  We were planning on doing a year of preschool prior to kindergarten — I didn’t know yet what form that preschool would take (full day, half day, every day, a few days per week, at a preschool, in someone’s home, with me, without me) but I thought that, if we could make it work financially, it would benefit the kids to have a chance to adjust to “being in school” before they actually had to be in school and truly focused on learning new things.  (Prior to Benjamin’s birth, I had every intention of returning to work after about 2-3 months of unpaid maternity leave.  That plan changed entirely within the first 72 hours of being a mom.  I guess the only benefit to NOT having any income during my “maternity leave” was that I very quickly figured out that we could, in fact, live without a second income.)

Of course, back in July of 2008, I had no idea we’d be living in Vienna in 2013.

Living here, where preschool provides an unparallelled opportunity to learn German, and an excellent opportunity for me to keep my sanity while living abroad and away from my family (i.e., with less help than I’d gotten used to) — for free, even — we decided to start B in preschool a year earlier than we’d originally planned, so he started just after he turned 3.  I am so glad we made that decision, and that we had the opportunity to do so.  It took B a long time to adjust to being in preschool, and although I’m sure the whole foreign language/new country thing made the transition more difficult, I honestly think he would have had a massive adjustment to being away from home (and me) regardless of what continent we’d lived on when we did it.  It took him a solid 6 months to fully embrace the idea of preschool, and a few months more than that to start to show the enthusiasm we see now.  He still loves holidays and weekends when he gets to stay home from school, but on most Sunday nights he tells us how excited he is to go back the next day.  It’s a wonderful feeling, and it gives me hope that we’ve given him a strong foundation in the idea that school is a fun, safe, supportive place, which he will hopefully carry forward with him as he gets older.

Having seen B go through all of this, we’ve been trying to decide exactly what Liam’s preschool experience will look like.  I have a feeling that Liam’s adjustment to preschool will be measured in days or maybe weeks, instead of months.  He loves me, and he loves playing at home, but he also asks, almost every morning, if today is the day that he can go to school with Benjamin.  Whether or not he & B went to school together, I think the fun of playing with other kids and getting to be in school would quickly overwhelm any amount that he missed me.  So, on the one hand, I don’t think he’ll need as much adjustment time before kindergarten, but on the other hand, he WANTS to go, already, and I don’t know if there’s much more benefit to be had by putting that off.

With all of that in mind, we enrolled Liam in “kindergarten” here for the fall. And we just found out, last month, that he got in . . . to the same school B attends (it wasn’t a given that he’d get in at all, and less so that he’d be able to go to the same school).  We had a meeting, recently, to talk about his enrollment, answer any questions we had, and to plan for his arrival at school next September.  (And WOW, that meeting was SO MUCH EASIER this time around.  Our German has vastly improved and now that we understand how the whole system works, things are fantastic.  What took a torturous hour 2 years ago for B, took a pleasant 20 minutes this time.)  On the school’s recommendation, we aren’t putting the boys in the same group (class) as each other, so while B is in the “blue group”, Liam would be in the “yellow group” (gelbe Gruppe, in German).  (Classes/groups in Austrian preschools include kids of ages 3-5, sometimes even 3-6, in the same class.  The kids stay together with the same teachers for those years, and split off from the group, when necessary, to work in smaller groups for different age-appropriate activities.)  The teachers feel that B’s natural desire to be a nurturer would probably stifle Liam’s ability to interact with the other kids and make friends.  I also think that they would both suffer in terms of learning German with a brother in class to speak English with.  And, I think there’s a fair chance that Liam would eventually punch Benjamin the nose after the 65th time B told him the “right way” to play with some toy or another.  So, they’ll be at the same school, but not in the same class.  They will see each other during snack time, sometimes during their outdoor play time, and during the activities that the whole school does together (like holiday events), but otherwise, they will both have a chance to learn and grow on their own.

And all of this is pretty exciting.  Especially because, from a financial perspective, preschool for Liam next year probably wouldn’t be in the picture if we were home in the States.  Private preschool is pretty pricey on a single income, even if he’d only being going for a half-day, a few days per week.

So, I’m excited for Liam, and for Benjamin, who can’t wait for Liam to join him at school.  I’m also fantasizing about what I will fill my time with for 3 hours per day on my own for the first time in over 5 years.  (What did I DO with all of that free time I squandered back in the days before kids?!?)  And I’m imagining how sweet it will be to take my boys to school together every morning.  Liam is excited, too.  Now, whenever we talk about B’s school day, Liam asks, “I’m going to be in the gelbe Gruppe?” and says “Yay!” when we tell him that he will.

Boston

My personal experience with the city of Boston is pretty limited.  A few of my cousins grew up there, and I’ve actually been to the city twice — once in high school and then again in college.  I loved it when I went.  I loved the history, and the feel of the city.  It felt youthful and energetic.  (Of course, my only point of reference at the time was Washington, DC, which can be called a lot of things, but youthful isn’t typically one of them.)

I, however, am a marathoner, or at least I once was.  I trained all through the spring and summer of 2001.  I dedicated every weekend and many mornings to running — something I’d never done before — and became connected to a wonderful group of likewise mostly rookie athletes taking on the same challenge.  We formed strong bonds out on the trails, the kind that only supporting each other through seemingly impossible odds can create, and I consider myself fortunate to count many of those people still among my friends, 12 years later.

It was 2001, so just as we were starting to focus on our end goal, our nation, and our city, was struck a devastating, terrifying blow.  Our lives were changed.  Our sense of security was lost.  It was life changing and confidence shaking.  Suddenly, everything and everyone felt like a target.  Any modestly sized public gathering felt scary.  And a marathon is a significant event — with lots of people.

But even through that, I don’t think a single one of us considered not running, just a month later.  I, and some of my friends, were registered for the Baltimore Marathon, which didn’t seem like as much of a target, but many of our group were planning to run the Marine Corps Marathon, right in DC, scheduled to go past the Pentagon, still destroyed from the attacks.  The reality of what had happened was very present.

We ran anyway.  We came out to support each other anyway.  We navigated around the course in DC to cheer for our friends.  We were there.  We were vocal.  We were alert and aware, but we were not afraid.

We ran, and we came out to support each other, because we were celebrating something so much bigger than terror and destruction.  We were celebrating the ability to overcome something that seemed impossible.  We were cheering each other on and holding each other up through a staggering personal achievement.

Our friends and families came out to support us.  They made posters and ran with us and stood at the finish line to cheer us home.  They were there because love, support and celebration were bigger than the fear or worry they felt.  We all showed up for each other that day.  And although I didn’t see it that way at the time, we were standing up to something, too.

I’ve been to the Marine Corps Marathon since, not to run, but to cheer on friends.  Last year, we cheered for a friend here in the Vienna Marathon, and we would have been out there cheering again this past weekend if we’d all been well.

If I lived in Boston, I might have been along the course on Monday.  Actually, no . . . I know I would have been.  With my kids.  I will always be there, when I can, to cheer and support the runners.  The elite athletes demonstrate an amazing feat of fitness, and the rest of the runners give a spectacular show of spirit.  What a way to teach the boys about athletic accomplishment, dedication, overcoming challenges, community and kindness . . . all in one place.

A marathon is a beautiful, amazing, epic thing.  It is overwhelming and inspiring and magnificent.  It breaks my heart that such an iconic event was a target of such hatred.  It was a horrific, senseless, rage-inducing act of cowardice, and it sickens me to imagine the lives torn apart by this act of evil.  I don’t want to minimize their suffering, or plaster over their pain with platitudes.  But I also know that something like this, something awful and hateful, can’t overcome the incredible forces of good found around a marathon.  For anyone who wants to break our spirit, intimidate us, or make us cower, the sideline of a marathon is about the worst place they could start.  These are the people who already know they can do the impossible.  And we will keep showing up for each other.  It’s what we do.

A better day

Yesterday was rough.  After a weekend of being sick, and the kids being sick, I was completely exhausted, and I didn’t handle it very well.  (I’m also feeling kind of uncomfortable about having written about it, but if I’m going for honesty, I guess I’ve at least achieved that!)

Today is better.  I slept all night.  The boys slept all night.  We got up at 6:30, and I was feeling a lot better, even then.  B was well enough to go to school today (kind of — after a meltdown at 6:30 and almost falling asleep at the dinner table, I’m not sure he really WAS well enough for school) and Liam and I got to stay in and do nothing today while we work on recovering.

Still, by nap time I felt like it was 10:00 at night.  B, who has made the transition away from diapers for his waking hours, wanted to try napping without a diaper today.  I was exhausted, and the thought of cleaning all the bed sheets didn’t appeal to me, but I also don’t want to discourage him, so he gave it a try . . . and was completely successful.  (Score one for not discouraging him.  As a side note, I am really proud of him.)

Today went well.  I’m still getting over being sick, as is B.  Liam is still sick.  I opted for ordering dinner instead of cooking, and we skipped bath time because both kids were so wiped out.  But today was peaceful and fun.  We had a good day.