I should know better.  I know how my mind works (kind of) and I’m really starting to be aware of my limitations.  (I’d like to be aware of them in time to do something about it, but that’s still a work in progress.)  The last two nights, combined, I’ve gotten less than 8 hours of sleep.  Today, I was busy from the time I woke up this morning until just now, after I put Liam down to bed.  I went straight from being with the kids all day to finishing up our taxes to dinner to bathtime to bedtime with hardly a moment to catch my breath (the overlaps in nap time lasted 14 minutes today — that was my total time to myself).

During bathtime, Liam was refusing to sit down, turning the water on again and again, splashing everything and everyone.  He then launched himself at Benjamin, scratching his chest pretty badly, and I didn’t handle it gracefully.  He was too much for me, in that moment.  So, I took him out, dried him off, announced to Dan that Liam was “being a monster” and told Benjamin I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to continue to give them baths any more since they wouldn’t listen (which was altogether unfair, because although Benjamin was laughing at and encouraging Liam right up until the scratching, he really was being pretty well behaved).  That made him cry.

Liam then proceeded to pee on the floor (come on, like you didn’t see THAT coming), which was followed by me snapping at Dan for putting the “wrong shirt” on Liam, repeating that Liam was a monster and growling at Dan for something else before realizing I truly did not have a handle on myself.  I excused myself for a few minutes, got myself together enough to read a few stories, say a pleasant “good night” to Benjamin, apologize for acting horribly, and put Liam down to sleep.

Yes, I know it could have been much worse.  But I hate it when normal mom stuff gets to me.  It’s one thing when I’ve had an extraordinarily difficult day — if the kids are sick, I’m sick, we’re jet lagged, or something out of the ordinary and stressful is happening, I can give myself a break — but today was just a normal day.  Actually, it was a really pleasant day (until about 8:30 this evening).

I’m upset with myself for making it “all about me” in that moment, for focusing on the fact that *I* was overwhelmed, tired and grouchy.  It really isn’t all about me, and I hate knowing that I upset, worried, and maybe even scared my kids out of selfishly indulging myself in a moment of “Oh, yeah, well Mommy is having a hard day, too!”  I hope they can understand that these moments happen because of a deficiency in ME, not because of anything they’ve done (but that isn’t how it works, and they’ll almost certainly take it very personally).

I’ve been through this before.  I know I can’t go for 16 hours without taking a few minutes for myself (even if I don’t have any time *by* myself, I can turn on some TV for the kids, have a cup of coffee, stare at the walls and pretend I don’t hear anything that doesn’t sound emergency room worthy for 15 minutes).  Why can’t I remember that BEFORE I fall apart?

I got a ton of stuff done today.  Well, whoop-dee-doo, since the overall consequence is that I fell apart as a mom this evening.  Ugh.  Seriously, I have to get better at this.

Today was “Family Fest” at Benjamin’s school.  It was basically an “end of the year” (not quite, because it’s preschool and actually goes all year) party/social/open house for the kids and their families.  As with pretty much everything we experience here, we really didn’t know what to expect.  We were excited, though — Benjamin’s only remaining regret about school is that we don’t all get to attend with him, and today, we got to join him.  So that, in itself, was something to look forward to.

Family Fest was awesome.  The teachers had set up 9 “stations” around the school, scattered throughout the different classrooms and the garden, all set up around this year’s theme (water).  Even though it was chilly and drizzly today, we had a fantastic time.  Everything was very interactive, and encouraged the kids to play (and, often, the grown ups to play with them).

I got to paint Benjamin’s and Liam’s faces (the results were significantly better on Benjamin since he held still and didn’t immediately try to wipe the paint off).  We got to “fish” (magnetic fish and magnetic poles).  Benjamin got to throw water balloons — actually, Liam did, too, but that was less official (and we were glad we had put him in a raincoat).  B got to knock stuff over with a spray bottle of water.  We went fishing for floating ducks.  Benjamin and Liam did some bowling.  We did a treasure hunt for candy in a box full of seashells (that was probably the most difficult one — I’m not sure B really believed there was anything worth finding in the box, and he lost interest until Mommy came to the rescue and uncovered the candy).  We made a paper boat.  We had a snack (cake, juice and coffee — no coffee for the kids).  B put out a “fire” — he knocked over plastic bottles decorated as fire with a hose while I pumped the water.  The boys had ice cream.  We went home.

Good times were had by all.

Family Fest was wonderful, and fun (if a little exhausting) and I feel so lucky that we all got to be there.  (Not all the kids had family to be there.  There was one room where the kids whose families weren’t there were all playing together.  They really did look like they were having a good time, and the teachers who were in there seemed to be making it fun.  But I don’t care how fun it was, that had to be hard.)  We are so lucky.  I got to be there.  Liam got to play.  Dan was able to take the afternoon off of work and be there (and because he was there, Benjamin got some great time and attention from each of us today — wrangling both kids would have made that much harder).  I feel so grateful that the teachers and the school put their hearts into making such a fun day for all of us.  And I feel so fortunate that we could all be there.

We had such a wonderful time.  I loved watching Benjamin talk to his friends and his teachers.  I loved watching him play, and getting to play with him.  I loved watching Liam alternate between enthusiastic play and attempts at enthusiastic destruction.  It was, in all seriousness, probably my single most favorite thing that we’ve done since we’ve been here.

My kids are two entirely different people.  Of course.  But somehow, I’m still surprised and amused when I notice the different ways they approach the world.

Benjamin, who is nearly 4 (although I have no idea how that is possibly true) handles most of his frustrations by either gnashing his teeth and throwing things or bursting in to tears (pretty predictable for a 3 year old . . . and occasionally for me).  I’ve worked a lot, over the years, on more constructive methods of conflict resolution, whether it’s talking about a problem (asking for a toy, offering a trade, taking turns), asking an adult for help (particularly when he comes across an overly difficult physical task) or calmly assessing the situation and formulating a solution (once in a blue moon that last one actually happens . . . and it’s pretty cool when it does).

Liam, on the other hand, deals with a problem very directly — with overwhelming force, acceptance or by immediately asking for help.  The times when he gets frustrated to the point of crying are almost 0 (and only then when he’s exhausted) and he never grits his teeth, growls and stomps around.  He either forces the solution, gives up and moves on (happily) or sits where he is, calling, “Help, help!”

Both approaches have their merits.  Although Benjamin ends up more regularly frustrated, I admire his persistence.  On the other hand, there is something very functional about Liam’s approach — he’s going to MAKE it happen, accept things as they are, or call in the cavalry — all choices which keep him pretty peaceful.

I love my boys, and I love how much they ARE who they are.  Everything seems to get to Benjamin — but that includes the good and the bad.  I think he feels the wonderful, amazing, loving, magical parts of life every bit as strongly as he feels the frustrating and overwhelming things.  Liam seems more independent and resilient . . . except when he needs, “Help, help!”  In either case, my boys impress me.  And I’m happy to help, help them both, with whatever they need.

I started running again in December, after a long hiatus.  Even years ago, when was first running, it was hard to keep up with it, but now that “going for a run” involves me, both kids, and a jogging stroller that doesn’t really fit in our elevator, I really struggle to find the time and motivation to run regularly.

For me, at least, running is one of those things that goes so much better when I can set up a schedule and stick with it.  When I’m constantly getting interrupted in my routine, I’m constantly having to “start over” — I have to go back to walking for a week or so, then ramp back up through the run/walk intervals until I can jog a solid 20+ minutes at a stretch, which is when it really starts to be enjoyable for me again (enjoyable being a relative term — I’ve often said that I actually don’t like running, I just like how I feel when I have run).

Just over a month ago, I started up again, and instead of going in the afternoons or evenings with both kids, I started going in the mornings when I just have Liam.  It’s one less person to worry about — two less, if you count Dan — and then I get it out of the way first thing (which is good — that’s when I have the most energy and motivation).  So, my routine was to drop B off at school, go home, change, and then go out and run.  Unfortunately, by the time I do all that, Liam was often asleep, or he would fall asleep shortly after I started my run.  The problem with that is that the only “jogging” stroller I have is the aforementioned double with doesn’t really fit in our elevator, so part of the bonus of going with just Liam was to just take our “regular” stroller.  I don’t mind running with Liam in the regular stroller, but not when he’s sleeping (I worry that his head bounces around way too much as he dozes).

I know what my solution to this would be in the US.  I’d get dressed for my run, drop B off at school, and run immediately after.  A mom in workout clothes at preschool drop off is a non-event in the US.  But it’s not what they do here.  I’ve never seen anyone drop their child off for kindergarten in exercise clothes.  Not once.  I usually feel underdressed because I don’t have “work” clothes on — just jeans and a sweater or something.

I don’t want to embarrass my child.  I don’t want to be culturally inappropriate and embarrass myself, either.  And, if I’m honest, some of my discomfort comes from the fact that I haven’t seen a heavy person (even as heavy as me) in workout clothes in Vienna . . . ever.  (Apparently only people who are already fit exercise here — outdoors, at least.)  So, I’m already self-conscious about being the chubby girl in workout clothes, and adding to that the fact that I’m apparently supposed to dress up for kindergarten drop off has kept me well-dressed and made up for my mornings so far.

But, honestly, I’d rather get my run in and be embarrassing to my 3 year old (who, I realize, doesn’t care one bit — I’m completely projecting my insecurity on to him as an excuse) than not get a chance to do it.  So, today, I wore workout clothes to school.  And I got to run before Liam fell asleep.  And I’ll do it again tomorrow.  And, I’m going to keep doing it, because it’s SO MUCH MORE important that I do what I need to than it is to “look right” when I drop B off at school  He doesn’t care, and a year from now I’ll live on a whole different continent than all of these people, anyway.

Since before Liam was born, Benjamin has loved him.  Of course, while I was pregnant with Liam, Benjamin didn’t really know what it would be like to have a little brother, but he was happy about the idea from the beginning.  He was so excited to meet Liam when he was born . . . and then, Liam’s birth didn’t go at all as planned and Benjamin’s experience of meeting him wasn’t able to be anything like what we prepared him for.

Benjamin’s first view of Liam was through the window of the NICU, and even though I think that was a little weird and confusing for him, it didn’t dampen his enthusiasm.  We were nervous to see how B would react when we first brought Liam home, but there was no need — Benjamin sat on the floor, looked at Liam, and said, “So cute!”

For as long as we’ve had both boys in the house, we’ve had tons of cuddles, kisses, hugs and “I love yous” between them.  Benjamin loves to help Liam when he needs it, and (usually) wants Liam to join in on whatever he’s doing.  (Of course, we also have plenty of pushing, snatching away of toys (B to Liam) and hitting (Liam to B) — it can be hard to have a brother sometimes, especially when super-mean Mommy tries to make you share or take turns.)

But mostly, there’s just a lot of love between the two of them, and it is wonderful to watch them together.  Lately, there have been lots and lots of cuddles in our house.  Mostly because Liam is starting to catch up to Benjamin in terms of initiating the affection (and he does it in a classically Liam style — mostly, it looks like a tackle).

Just this week, some good friends of ours had their second baby, a girl, and we were talking about what it’s like to be a big brother, and how exciting it must be for their oldest son to have a new baby sister.  Out of curiosity, I asked the boys if they’d like to have a little sister one day (don’t get excited — this is something we haven’t even decided ourselves, I was just wondering what their take on it would be).  They both said no, which surprised me a little.  But then Benjamin added, “But another little brother would be ok.”

That, I think, is the best compliment Liam could get from his big brother.

Benjamin has been wanting to have a sleepover with me for a few weeks now.  He got to have them with Grandma the whole time we were visiting the US last month (which he loved).  This time, he wanted to host me for a living room campout in his tent.

I like to be an enthusiastic mom.  I like to play pretend, I like to race my kids around the house, I like to paint and color with them, I love playing with them at the park.  But a night of sleeping on our hardwood floors with only a thin sheet of nylon for “padding” does not appeal to me.  Besides, short as I am, the tent was made for little kids to play in, not for grown ups to sleep in, so even I would have to contort into an uncomfortalbe position to fit.

So, we made a compromise.  I’m going to camp out on the futon and B is going to camp in his tent.  We pulled the tent right up to the edge of the futon, so he can poke his head out and ‘check on me’ if he needs to.  We have our sleeping bags, our “campfire” (light up music cube) and our lantern.  As I write this, he tells me he’s sleeping, but I think he’s waiting for me to get myself snuggled in to my campsite before he closes his eyes.

I think we’re all set.  No more writing for me tonight — it’s camping time.

It’s Friday, which means family movie night in our house.  This is a relatively new but much loved and highly anticipated weekly tradition.  Roughly 98% of the movie nights we’ve had have featured one movie:  Cars.  It’s Benjamin’s favorite (by a mile . . . in fact, I don’t think he even really likes any other movies, although we’ve tried a few) and Liam loves shouting, “Cars!” at the screen at regular intervals.  Luckily, Dan & I also find it entertaining and pretty pleasant for a near-weekly rewatching.

In fact, the only downside to watching Cars almost every time is that it doesn’t hold the kids rapt with attention like it used to.  They know who wins the races, what happens after the chase scenes, and how it ends.  (The plus side of all of this is that they don’t feel the need to always watch the movie all the way through, so sometimes we get to go to bed a little early.)  Tonight, after they lost interest in popcorn, they quickly turned to racing and wrestling to keep themselves busy.

It really was more fun than it looks like from their expressions.

In a flash of inspiration, trying to keep it a fun activity, rather than one requiring a subsequent emergency room visit, I arranged the play tent with a good vantage point of the tv and suggested we all have a campout while watching the movie.  It was fantastic.  We had sleeping bags, all manner of stuffed friends and a light-up music cube standing in for a campfire (over which we roasted imaginary marshmallows and made s’mores).  We snuggled, we cuddled, we watched the movie.  Bailey even played the part of bear/raccoon/moose at one point.  (I think Liam would have actually slept in the tent, quite happily, if he’d been able to get comfortable enough.)

My kids are awesome.  It was so sweet to watch Benjamin get himself all snuggled up, make pretend s’mores and set up a spot for Liam.  I loved seeing Liam flop himself down on his sleeping bag while saying, “Night!  Night!” over and over.  Movie night is great fun.  Camping while doing movie night is even better.  How often do you get to camp and watch a movie at the same time?  Well, it turns out, I get to do it anytime I want.  And I get to snuggle with my kids at the same time.  I love camping movie night.

It’s been a rough week here, but we’re starting to find our way out of it.  Benjamin is better, Dan avoided getting the worst of this, and Liam and I are (hopefully) in the final phases of kicking this flu (or flu-like whatever-it-was) out of our bodies.

I think we’ve been through more than our fair share of weeklong illnesses in the past year — not just that we’ve been sick more often than usual, but that the illnesses we’ve had seem to hang on a bit longer.  And, to be honest, I think we’ve handled some of it less than gracefully.  This blog is a testament to the fact that I’ve gotten a bit whiny and grumpy at times about our recurring illnesses.

But, this thing we’re doing here is challenging.  I suspect that the fatigue caused by parenting in an environment with a consistently elevated level of stress (moving, travelling, being out of our element, every little thing being such a challenge) coupled with not having a local support structure (no Grandma to come and help, few friends to impose upon, young babysitters with few available hours and lots of commitments, not even a pizza guy to call when it’s been a long day) contributes a great deal to the frequency and duration of our illnesses.  (Benjamin attending school for the first time can’t help, either, because we’re all constantly being exposed to new germs and such.)

With things being the way they are, once any one of us gets sick, it’s fairly inevitable for the rest of us.  Once one of the kids is sick, Dan & I share the sleep-deprivation which ensues, which wears us down, and then we succumb to the sickness, too.  And then, with it just being us, with Dan working full time, Benjamin in school half a day and Liam home all day, there’s not any real chance to rest and recover, so we stay sick.

It’s like swimming in the ocean and accidentally getting a lungful of water.  It’s no big deal if you can sort yourself out, with your feet firmly on the sand, before the next big wave hits.  It’s another matter entirely when the surf is rough and you’re in water over your head.

The logistics of living here aren’t as easy as we thought they’d be.  We haven’t been able to find a good babysitter for more than an hour a week, and our days are so packed that it’s nearly impossible to give each other a break of more than an hour or so at a time (and if you’re coming off of a sleepless night, that’s not a lot of relief, especially when you’ve got the flu).

I’m not sharing this to complain.  I’m saying this as a reminder to give myself a break, to be understanding of (however) we handle this challenge.  I’m still glad we’re here, and I’m still glad we’re doing this.  But it isn’t easy.  (And I really miss having my mom nearby.)

There are so many fantastic things about being a parent.  It would be impossible to choose a favorite thing, but I certainly love snuggles, hugs, kisses, smiles and bathtime.  I am also constantly thrilled, amazed and overjoyed as I watch my kids learn new things and develop new skills.

In such a fantastically short span of time, our children go from sweet but helpless tiny creatures to young little people who can walk, talk, ask for what they want, figure out solutions to problems and outsmart their parents — even the ones who think they’ve got everything covered.  (And then you have two, and they start to work together, and then it’s really all over.  Liam definitely getting in to the outsmarting phase — waiting until our attention is diverted to throw his dinner on the floor, waiting until I’m engaged on Skype to climb into the chair he knows he’s not allowed into, waiting until Benjamin is distracted to grab the toy they’ve been “sharing” all afternoon, running for the hills at the first mention of a diaper change.)

And then they get a little bigger, and they start to figure out how to do “stuff”.  Not just biologically driven master skills like rolling over or walking or saying “ah-gu”, but more nuanced stuff, like riding a bike, singing the ABC song, or doing differential equations (ok, we’re not QUITE to that last one yet, but it’s really the same principle).

Over the past few years, I’ve watched Benjamin learned to more-or-less sing his ABCs (in English and in German).  I’ve watched him learn to count (he’s always adding new numbers, not necessarily in the right order, and who taught him to count BACKWARDS from 10 to -10?!?).  I’ve seen him learn to read numbers, most of the capital letters and many of the lower case ones.  He can read his name, and Liam’s.  I’m not saying this to brag (although I do think he’s super duper wonderful and incredibly brilliant) but because watching him add these skills to his repertoire is marvelous.  Just 3 years ago he couldn’t even walk.  It’s astounding.

Today, we were all coloring on the chalk board.  Even when he was very little, Benjamin wasn’t particularly interested in writing or drawing.  He’ll scribble for a bit, but he’s not usually drawn (ha ha) to that kind of activity.  I think he’s too much of a perfectionist (and I took too long to tone down my own perfectionism in front of him).  I’ve been trying to work, gently, over the years, to entice him to enjoy art projects for more than 30 seconds at a time, and to work on some skills I know he’ll need eventually (drawing vertical lines, making circles) but other than color identification (which he’s been all over since he could talk) he’s not really in to that kind of thing.

Or, he wasn’t, until Liam came along.  Liam LOVES to draw, paint and color.  Whenever he has the option of doing art, he’s likely to choose it (unless there’s a really cool car or truck to play with) and he’s got a good bit of skill (and a desire to color on the walls and furniture that, with Benjamin as my only example, I am still taken by surprise by, much to the detriment of our tables, chairs, filing cabinets, screen door and floors.

Liam has been able to make a vertical line for months.  He could do it before Benjamin could — not relative to their ages, literally before.  But Liam’s constant attraction to the chalk board, the most readily available art surface in our house, has been given B lots of practice, too.  He’s been spending a few minutes during each of Liam’s coloring sessions making lines, circles, mountains, bugs, cars, people (which often look very similar to each other, but he can tell them apart).  I’ve noticed a ton of change in Benjamin’s dexterity in his writing and drawing lately.

So, today, when Liam walked over to the chalkboard to make an array of lines and dots in a variety of colors, Benjamin and I joined him.  B drew for a while, and then I drew a few lines, and asked him if he could make some lines, too.  I drew some circles, and he practiced with me, too.  Then I drew his favorite letter (B, of course) and asked him if he could trace it.  He did.  And then, he drew me an E.  And asked me to draw him an e to trace.  So, I took the hint and then added n, j, a, m, i and n after, and he traced each one.  (He did an amazingly good job.)

I got to see him do something entirely new.  He wrote his name.  Something I didn’t know he could do.  He was very excited and proud of himself (I’m pretty excited and proud, too).  It is so fantastically cool to watch them learn to do new things.  At lunch time today, he’d never done this before, and now he has.  He could do it tomorrow, and the day after that, and then FOREVER.  That is so neat.

And, I really believe that Liam helped him get here.  Liam, with his love for drawing and coloring, brought Benjamin back to the chalk board, again and again.  Benjamin so often would have chosen something else to do — something that’s more “his thing”.  But, sometimes we do what he likes, and sometimes we do what Liam likes, so we draw a lot.  And B gets to practice a lot more because of it.  And today he wrote his name.  And even though neither one of them know it, Liam helped.  And that makes me ridiculously happy.

So, today was Benjamin’s first big “end of the year” school trip.  Not just his class, but the whole school, went.  They rode a big bus to get there.  There were pony rides.  It sounds like it was awesome.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get to go.  His fever finally broke, about 4-something in the morning, and he was able to get a little sleep.  VERY little (he woke up just before 6).  He was exhausted, miserable, and still feeling pretty awful.  So, he had to stay home today — even though it was the day of the big school trip.  He was happy to get to stay home today, but when I explained that he’d be missing the trip, he suggested we ask the teachers, when we go to school tomorrow, if they could just take a trip tomorrow, also.  It was so sweet and so sad.  My poor guy.

I know it’s ok.  I know it’s important for me to teach him that taking care of his health is a higher priority than missing out on a trip.  But, I am so sorry he wasn’t able to go.