Benjamin time

Posted on August 30, 2011 by admin

It’s inevitable: having an 11 month old who doesn’t nap means that I don’t have a lot of time to spend one-on-one with B. When Liam was very little, he napped for a few hours every day, and that gave Benjamin and I time to do things together: read, color, build things, play. As Liam has gotten older, his nap has gone away, and now much of my play time with Benjamin is now shared play time with Liam.

Much of the time, he doesn’t mind. I’ve gotten better at finding things for all of us to do together (like playing ball, which Liam is amazingly adept at) but I miss the one-on-one time with Benjamin, and I think he misses it, too. Sibling rivalry has started cropping up more and more, although he still loves Liam (he tells me so) and is still very affectionate and caring towards him. I’m grateful that our reduced playtime hasn’t turned him against Liam entirely, but I know it’s something I need to address before it creates larger resentment.

I’ve been trying, lately, to do just that. I’ve planned times for B & I to go out, to the park, to the movies (Dan & Liam ended up coming with us), or to stay in and play Wii — special things for he and I to do together where he can have my (relatively) undivided attention. I’ve been putting a lot of effort in, but frankly, it hasn’t been working out. It’s nice to spend that time with him, but it ends up feeling forced and even a little frustrating, sometimes, because it doesn’t go quite as I imagine.

This morning, Dan was putting Liam down for a nap and I was hanging out with B, who was watching tv. B wanted to go in his room to play, and wanted me to come, too. I was exhausted, and honestly felt like sitting and watching tv instead, but, I agreed to go with him. Once we got there, he wanted to set up his train tracks and play with his trains. For the first few minutes, I played along, without my heart really being in it, thinking about what I had to do today and feeling tired, but then I got caught up in his enthusiasm, and we put tracks together, switched trains around, had races, built tunnels, built bridges. We played for an hour or so while Dan got Liam down and then while Liam slept. It was fantastic: exactly what I’ve been looking for.

And then, it hit me: I don’t need to force this one-on-one time to happen. It’s fine for me to plan something “special” from time to time for us to do together, but it’s not the “specialness” of the activity that makes the time so valuable. B & I have lots of things we enjoy doing together: playing trains, playing ball, coloring with chalk, reading stories. All I have to do is make the space in my day for those things, which we already share, to happen. It isn’t what we do that’s important, it’s the fact that we have the chance to do it.

He starts preschool next week, and between being in school for half the day, coming home, having lunch and taking a nap, I feel like I’m hardly going to see him at all. I’m going to get less time with him, but it doesn’t mean we’re less important to each other. I have to make sure that I’m making time for us to spend together, because I don’t want to miss out on the precious moments of playing trains or coloring with chalk. That’s the most important part of my day.

Erste German class

Posted on August 29, 2011 by admin

Today was the last day of my first German class. It was definitely a helpful class — I can understand and communicate more than I could before. Now it’s up to me — I have to study and practice, and I certainly get plenty of opportunities to practice.

We learned to describe time, use numbers, ask questions, introduce ourselves, ask for/interpret directions, order from a menu, spell, tell someone our phone number or address and conjugate regular verbs. At the end of class today, we had a few minutes for open questions, and I also made sure I learned how to ask “Can I pet your dog?” because Benjamin has been dying to learn how to say that.

Dan had to forgo taking a German class this summer. We couldn’t take class at the same time, because we have two kids that won’t sit through an hour of adults learning German. Both sections of the summer class were at the same time, and we figured I was a higher priority because Dan gets to spend the day speaking English and I don’t. Our plan for the fall, though, is for both of us to take class. Benjamin starts preschool next week, too, so our schedule for this fall should be pretty interesting. I want to make it a priority to get myself to a German class, though — I need to stay at least one lesson ahead of Benjamin, at least, and he has age on his side.

Mountain!

Posted on August 28, 2011 by admin

We’ve been in Austria for nearly 5 months, and there’s been something lacking from our experience so far: mountains. Today, we rectified that omission.

We headed out this morning — we were trying for “first thing” this morning, but didn’t actually leave the house until nearly 11. As it always seems to happen with kids, the preparation and departure took far longer than expected. We took the U-bahn to the train station and boarded a train (a big, double decker one) that took us an hour and a half southwest of Vienna. We were a little concerned about two hours of train travel with the kids, but it actually went fine. The scenery was varied enough to keep B busy for a while, and Liam promptly fell asleep. I was planning on using my iPhone to entertain B if necessary, but I didn’t need to. The time passed really quickly. After we left Vienna, we were quickly in the countryside, and the hills and plains gave way to mountains and valleys — it was beautiful. The mountains in this area seem to be very large, green and steep . . . less rolling than the Blue Ridge at home, and bigger, too (I think).

Our train dropped us off at a tiny train station outside of a tiny town, and we hopped on a bus. The little town we rode through was beautiful. Surrounded by huge mountains, full of cute little Austrian houses with pink and purple flowers spilling out of the flower boxes, a crystal clear stream running through the town. I rode on the bus, looking foolish with my mouth popped open nearly the entire way.

After our short bus ride, we got out, climbed up a very steep set of steps and bought our tickets for our gondola ride up the mountain. We explained to Benjamin that it was kind of like a flying train car — which turned out to be quite apt. I’ve been on ski lifts before, so I expected this to be like that, only larger and enclosed. And, it was, roughly. But in a whole different league. This thing zoomed up the mountain, bumping and swaying. There are windows all around, so you can see gorgeous mountain views, all while being whisked up about a mile in just over 5 minutes. I had not really expected how high this mountain was — we just kept going up and up an up! The three hours in transit were almost worth the gondola ride alone.

But, then we got to the top and stepped out and were stunned by the views, by the feeling of the air, by everything. It was exactly what I wanted it to be — gorgeous, cool, crisp and fresh. The air felt and tasted like early spring and smelled like Christmas. Benjamin immediately requested his sweatshirt (which he shortly abandoned, once we started actually walking). We could see down into the valley we had just come out of, as well as look across at huge mountains we had been gazing up at from the valley floor just a few moments before.

After appreciating the vistas, we decided to go for a short hike. The trail map listed a loop that went from where we started, up a “moderate” slope, to a little cafe about 35 minutes walk away, and then back again (another 35 minutes). Not in a hurry, and 033-MOTION wanting to enjoy ourselves, we figured that even with Liam in the Ergo and Benjamin walking, we could probably do the walk in an hour or so. We set off, up the hill, through the meadows of mountain laurel and forests of perfect Christmas trees.. About 90 seconds into the hike, Benjamin was asking for a break. We continued a little further, found a picnic bench and took a break, and then continued on, still climbing. We actually climbed high enough that we realized, looking around, and looking across at the other mountains, that we had, apparently, reached the top of the tree line. We still had lots of ground plants and even a few stunted pine trees (pine bushes?) but no more trees. We walked and we walked, up and up.

There were two things wrong with our “hike to the cafe” plan. 1. The 35 minute walk that was described was estimated by an Austrian. They walk faster, and are generally in better shape than Americans. They take their walking, particularly mountain walking, very seriously. (It’s not uncommon to see people walking through Vienna — which is pretty flat — with what look like ski poles. It’s apparently called “nordic walking”. Up on the mountain, nearly everyone had these ski poles/walking sticks.) 2. The “moderate slope” bit was also, I imagine, described by an Austrian. We were not, at any point, in danger of falling to our deaths, and neither were we required to rappel up or down anything. So, I guess that means it’s moderate. (In their defence, there were a lot of people doing this walk who did appear to find it only moderate, including quite a few who were probably twice my age and at least one young man with an artificial leg. So, again, I suspect the issue is that my American idea of “moderate” does not match with an Austrian idea.)

It didn’t matter — we had a great time. We probably got about halfway to the cafe (we estimate) in about 45 minutes. We sat at another picnic table to rest, and to feed and change Liam, and decided not to go on any further. Benjamin had a great time playing on the mountainside. Dan and I enjoyed the views. Liam wanted to get down and crawl around (we limited his independent mountain exploration to the blanket we brought for him).

After soaking in the sun, the air and the sights, we decided to head back, and opted for an “off the trail” trail that we were sure would parallel and join up shortly with the well marked, well worn and well travelled trail we had come up on. It didn’t. We hadn’t gone far when we realized that instead of going steeply (sorry, “moderately”) downhill, as we should be, we were staying level . . . or maybe even climbing very slightly. Hmm. We came out from a wooded section of our trail, and my stomach did a little flip when I looked down, several hundred yards, to see the trail we had been aiming for, and no apparent way to get to where we wanted to be. We didn’t panic, but I admit to being a bit concerned and having pieces of episodes of “Survivorman” and “I Shouldn’t Be Alive” run through my head. We had our bearings, though, and continued on, choosing paths that brought us closer and closer to where we needed to be. We came out into another clearing (which actually turned out to be a cleared area under a ski lift) and found we were now only about 50 yards (of “moderate” slope, full of weeds and undergrowth but nothing too bad) above our path. Woo hoo!

We made it back and treated ourselves to ice cream (me and Benjamin) and coffee (me and Dan) before heading back down on the gondola. (Which goes down faster than it comes up, creating a definite roller coaster feeling of leaving your stomach behind).

It took us about twice as long to get there as we actually spent on the mountain, but it was totally worth it. We trekked out of Vienna, got up to the top (kind of) of the mountain, hiked around, got lost, found our way, and made it back home. Our kids are tired, but happy. That’s definitely a success. I also impressed myself (and probably Dan, too) by going with the flow. I actually let him make the travel plans, and I didn’t once stress about what time we had to be anywhere. This is very much unlike me, but I’m finding that the energy I spend trying to make things work out perfectly really gets in the way of having a good time, and doesn’t gain me much in terms of the experience. I’m discovering that it’s worth risking having to spend an hour standing around in a beautiful location because I didn’t optimize my train/bus connection if it means that I’m not watching the clock the entire time and stressing out about what’s supposed to happen next instead of enjoying what’s happening in the moment.

We had a great day. I don’t know if the hills are alive, but we really enjoyed them.

Storms

Posted on August 27, 2011 by admin

We’re getting a pretty massive thunderstorm in Vienna right now. It’s been windy all day (and getting cooler since about 3:00 — woo hoo!) and raining on and off, and then a few minutes ago, the thunder and lightning started. I don’t know enough about the weather patterns in central Europe to speak with any authority, but I imagine these winds and storms blowing right down from the Alps. They have that kind of gravitas.

Back at home, everyone is hunkering down for a massive storm of their own: Hurricane Irene is upon them with flooding, winds and general, low-level panic. All up and down the east coast of the US, people are evacuating and bracing for intense damage. In the DC area, they get it all: hurricanes, massive snowstorms, flooding, tornadoes . . . even earthquakes, as proven earlier this week. They don’t really specialize in any one kind of disaster. We got to do all of them from time to time, with neither enough practice nor enough local funding to handle anything perfectly smoothly. Everyone stocks up on toilet paper, milk and water and stays in. I’m not criticizing — I think it’s a pretty good plan, and has served us well for everything from hurricanes to “snowmageddon”.

I think I’m safely out of the path of any hurricanes while I’m living here in Vienna, but I’m thinking of everyone at home and hoping that they all stay safe and dry. I’m sitting here in a big storm, too — I’m with you all in spirit.

Baby teeth

Posted on August 26, 2011 by admin

Being a mom comes with an inexhaustible capacity for worry. It starts during pregnancy: in the beginning, you worry if everything is ok. Once you can feel the baby moving, you worry that he isn’t moving enough, or maybe too much. Every ache or pain causes concern — it’s the physical equivalent of being in a dark and creaky house after seeing a scary movie: everything is interpreted as a potential threat. As the nine months wind to a close you start to desperately wish for the baby to be born, in large part because you feel like it will be so much easier to know if they’re ok once they’re on the outside and you can see them and touch them.

But it’s a bit of a nasty trick: you don’t realize how safe and secure they were until they are on the outside. The first nights a new mother spends with her baby are sleepless. Not just because of baby’s need to eat so regularly, but because even when he is asleep, the mother will lie awake listening for each next breath, attentive to every sigh, every movement, every sound.

It gets a little better as the days, weeks and months go on, but the faith you begin to get that they will survive the night is replaced by other worries. You worry that they’ll get sick — or they do, and you worry about that. You worry that they aren’t sleeping enough, and then the one day they take a long nap, or sleep through the night, you wake them up just to make sure you can. You worry that they aren’t growing enough, or that they’re getting too big. You start to worry about development. There are milestones that you read in the books, on the websites, that your doctor provides. Anything that doesn’t quite “make the grade” will inhabit your mind and fester. You compare your child to the others you see, and try to figure out, constantly, if everything is ok.

I’m going through this with Liam right now. It’s his teeth. His first two teeth arrived “on time” (according to the books, websites and doctors) which was a relief. (Which really just means it allowed my mind to move on to worrying about the next thing on the list of required accomplishments.) A few weeks later, he started to get his next two teeth, also on schedule: hooray! But, a week or so ago, I noticed that those two top teeth aren’t where they’re supposed to be — they’re really far apart. I can’t tell whether his two front teeth are coming in really far apart, or if he hasn’t gotten his two front teeth at all, but rather the two that are located next to those.

So, worry, worry, worry. What does this mean? Will his teeth grow in properly? Will his two front teeth ever come in? What will we do if they don’t? Is there something “wrong” with him? (Because that’s the worry that is really always in the back of our minds — is there something WRONG. Which could mean any number of things, but generally means “something that will prevent his life or childhood from following a typical path and/or will make said path significantly more difficult than usual”.) Consult the books! To the internet! Ask the doctors!

Right now, I don’t know. The books and the internet tell me it could be that his teeth are coming into the wrong spot, or it could be that they’re coming in out of order (more likely). The doctor looked at him for about 15 seconds, said she thought they were coming into the wrong spot and shrugged (lots of help, thanks).

So, I’m going to keep worrying. What does this MEAN! What is going to happen? Where is my crystal ball when I need it?!?

I get the impression that this doesn’t ever end. There’s always something to worry about. And even though I know the energy spent worrying is wasted (it’s not like I could do anything about how his teeth are growing in) I can’ t help myself. I’m a mom.

Benjamin and Santa

Posted on August 25, 2011 by admin

Did you know that it’s 4 months until Christmas? I do, because I have a 3 year old who asks me daily (often more than once) if it’s Christmastime yet, where Santa is and when he’s coming.

I’ve recently started introducing to Benjamin the idea of a Christmas list: the idea that when he wants something, rather than demanding it today, we write it down and ask Santa for it at Christmas. The idea seems to be taking root.

He decided, the other day, that he would like a red kite. I told him we should write it down on our list for Santa. He told me that he actually wants two things from Santa: a red kite, and a yellow kite for Liam to chew on.

My 3 year old just asked for 2 things for Christmas, and one of them is for his brother. I acknowledge that the request for the yellow kite for Liam was probably self-serving (if he has a kite to chew on then he won’t chew on mine), and that his Christmas list will grow in the next few months, but, still, it’s a cute and sweet thought for him to have.

I have great kids.

Nope, still summer

Posted on August 24, 2011 by admin

A week or so ago, I wrote that things felt chilly here, and that I thought maybe fall was upon us. Nope. Still summer.

It has been HOT here this week. It’s been in the 90s all week, and before everyone from home hits me with, “Bah! 90s?!? It’s August! We do that in our sleep!”, I will remind you that no, in fact, you don’t. When you go to sleep, it’s cool and pleasant — nice temperatures and not too humid, thanks to lovely air conditioning. Most Americans venture out into the 90+ degree heat for only a few minutes at a time — until they get to their car, until they get into work, or a shop, until they get home. (Hey, I’m with you — that’s how I like it, too.) Inside, it’s 72-ish all the time. If you really want to cool off, hit a movie or the mall — it’s often even colder in there. (Last summer, when I was pregnant with Liam and suffering in the heat, I used to go to the mall and just walk around in the lovely, cool air conditioning. Ah!)

This is 80, 85, 90 degrees 24 hours a day. There is no respite. Our houses don’t have air conditioning (or, if they do, like mine, it’s in a single room), the shops don’t have air conditioning, the movies and malls are barely air conditioned (if at all), only the most modern of trains have air conditioning. (At least, if you’re riding the U-bahn, some of the stations are underground, so that’s pretty pleasant.) Last night, in my air conditioned living room, it got down to 80. That was the coolest room in the house. Liam, in particular, feels about the heat the way that I do, and even Benjamin, who usually asks to be bundled up on the warmest nights, woke up at 3 in the morning and asked that I remove all of the blankets from his bed. No one in the house got much sleep last night, and we aren’t due to see relief from this until Saturday.

I am hot, I am sweaty, I am not a fan of this weather. I can live with it, but watching my kids suffer through it is really hard. Benjamin gets so sweaty when he runs around and plays. I’ve put all of our mid-day park trips and excursions on hold until the weather breaks. Liam gets unhappy when the indoor temperature goes above about 75, so I actually can’t sleep at night for worrying about him in his 80+ degree room. He wakes up screaming and sweaty and there’s little to do to comfort him, since holding him just makes him hotter.

Our living room air conditioner is set to 78 degrees. It has not shut off in over 72 hours. If things don’t improve tonight, we’re all going to have a sleepover around the air conditioner tomorrow night. 80 degrees might seem like a really pleasant sleeping temperature after the past few nights.

Ok, I get, it Austrian summer: you’re not over. Point taken.

Left out of the earthquake

Posted on August 23, 2011 by admin

I’m originally from Maryland, but I’ve lived in Virginia for the past 17 years. I’m in shock that there was a significant earthquake there today. There was, a couple of years ago, a very small one in Maryland that a lot of people in my area felt. I was awake, rocking Benjamin to sleep, and missed it entirely. From what I understand, this was not something likely to be missed or mistaken for something else.

Now that I’ve made contact with my entire family (either directly, or through someone else) and I know that they’re safe, my mind is splitting in two different directions. The first is shock and concern. Hearing that there was a 6-ish earthquake in Virginia is a little like hearing that all the animals escaped from the zoo and took a stroll down main street: both are, obviously, possible, but not something you really ever expect to see. Virginians don’t expect to see earthquakes, let alone strong ones, so I worry that construction isn’t up to it. I hope that injuries are minimal and few.

The second part of me is jealous. (Yes, jealous.) It’s not so much that I have I never felt an earthquake, but that I just missed out on a shared experience for the rest of my family and friends. In the sense of common memory, I just became an “other”. “Remember that earthquake?” No, I was in Austria. I’m a “Virginia Earthquake” outsider. I feel like I missed out.

Brothers

Posted on August 22, 2011 by admin

I have two amazing brothers, both younger than me (although in Peter’s case, not by much). (I also have three sisters, but this post isn’t about them.) Growing up, both Peter and Adam drove me crazy — they often terrorized my toys and took immense pleasure in destroying my overly particular way of doing just about everything. But, even when we were little, and tormenting each other, we were always there for each other, and we all loved each other very much . . . and we all knew it, even when we didn’t want to admit it.

As adults, they are the best of friends (even though I suspect they still drive each other crazy from time to time). They work together, they share hobbies, and even bought a house together. They take care of each other, look out for each other, and set each other straight when necessary. Although I love my brothers very much (and miss them terribly since I’ve been gone) there is a closeness that they share which I don’t.

I see my boys together, and, even as young as they are, I see the same type of bond forming. Nothing brings more joy to Liam than seeing Benjamin. When Benjamin walks into the room, Liam smiles and giggles and wrestles free in order to get down and crawl (at warp speed) to Benjamin’s side. Even at just 10 months old, he wants to be with his big brother and wants to be doing what he’s doing (which is already getting him in trouble). Benjamin gets frustrated with Liam, to be sure (“Don’t eat that! Don’t touch that! That’s MINE!”) but he is so kind and sensitive to his little brother. He already watches him and supervises what he’s doing — and not just for self-centered reasons. He lets me know when “Liam’s playing with a toy that’s not good for babies” and today even directed him away from playing with the oscillating fan in the living room. If I need to do something Liam objects to (anything that requires he be restrained, like diaper changes) Benjamin will come and tell me, “Mommy, he doesn’t like that”. He routinely tells me, “I love my brother!” and “I love my little Liam!”. I suspect I will see this adoration/protection duet play out for many years to come. It’s amazing to watch my children love each other the way that they do.

There is really something special about brothers. I am so happy that my boys have each other. I’ve always thought I had the best brothers ever . . . but I think they have some competition.

Missing the beach

Posted on August 21, 2011 by admin

Austria is a landlocked country. I’ve never even lived in a landlocked state before, so this is a strange concept for me. Growing up, we went to the beach every summer. When I was little, my grandmother had a place in Ocean City, Maryland, and then when we got older, we’d go to the Outer Banks in North Carolina or to Cape May in New Jersey. As an adult, I’ve been to Cancun, the Bahamas, Hawaii and Florida, in addition to trips back to Ocean City. The beach is regular fixture in my summers, and occasionally even in my falls, winters and springs. It’s an important part of my childhood memories, and a love that is shared with my entire family. Only a few years of my life have passed without a trip to the beach, and nearly all of those were for specific reasons (we didn’t go the summer that B was born, for example).

I haven’t been to the beach since May of 2010, and it’s starting to bug me that we can’t just get in the car and go. Getting to the beach from here would be expensive, and it would be a major undertaking. Not impossible, by any means, but it’s just not what we’re planning on focusing our European vacation travel on: we have beaches at home, but we don’t have Paris, London, Rome and Bavaria at home. I’ve been itching to go, though. I miss the ocean, the sand, the breezes. If we’d been at home, we would have taken Liam to the beach for the first time this summer. He’d probably hate it, because it would severely limit his mobility, but we’d take him anyway. I know he’ll love it once he’s bigger — he’s bold and fearless, so he’ll probably stress me out completely in and near the water forever, but I know he’ll be ready to jump in the waves, if only to follow his big brother.

Benjamin wants to go to the beach, too. He’s been three times (I think?). The first time he was pretty ambivalent: not thrilled about the sand, mostly, although he kind of liked the water. The second time he was distinctly more interested, and the third time, he loved it. That third time, we went in May, and the water was way too cold for me (even though I was 5 months pregnant and everything felt hot). Benjamin and Dan got in the water, though, and played in the waves. After that, they got out and B tried to bury Dan in the sand. He was enthusiastic about going down to the water even when it was raining, chilly and foggy. Benjamin has definitely learned or inherited the love that both Dan & I have for the beach and the ocean.

It’s hard for me to tell him we’re not going this year. He wants to play in the sand and in the ocean. We read stories about the beach, or he sees it in a cartoon, and he asks when we’re going. I think, one way or the other, we’re going to have to make sure we go next summer — I don’t think either of us can hold off another year.

A Mommy Abroad

Our big adventure, as a family of three.

Category Archives: Adventure in Vienna