Christmas in June

Posted on June 7, 2013 by admin

Yesterday, Liam and I were building a train track, and, as usually happens, we ended up just one piece short of what we really wanted to build. After a bit of trying to make it work with the pieces we had available, and then, failing that, trying to convince Liam that perhaps a redesign was required, I remembered that we had some extra train track pieces stored in the closet. They’re in the closet because they’re for the Christmas train, not the “regular” train.

Every January and February, I slowly start to squirrel away the Christmas decorations and toys. I do it stealthily, and gradually, to attempt to avoid an all-out uprising in favor of keeping our Christmas decorations up until summer. Understandably, the boys love their Christmas stuff, and they generally object to having it put away. With a few exceptions (both Liam and Benjamin have several Christmas-themed stuffed animals that stay out all year because they are so dearly loved) the decorations and toys get put away eventually. (I stand firm in the face of adversity because I really belive they’re more special to all of us if they only come out for a little while each year.) The manger scene, the Christmas train, the Santa books — all of it eventually gets boxed up and put in the closet.

But yesterday, to solve our engineering problem with the train, I decided to retrieve a single piece of curved track from the closet to complete our creation. Ta-da! Success!

Kind of. Because, of course, Liam quickly figured out that where there was one piece of the Christmas train, there would be more. And he began to ask, very sweetly and “Please please please!” if I would get the Christmas train out for him. And, as kindly as I could, I explained that the Christmas train was put away for the season. But he persisted in asking for it.

And, after a few minutes, I went ahead and got it out. Not because I was frustrated or overwhelmed with his asking (which was actually uncharacteristically respectful) but because, why say no? Sure, it’s not Christmas. Yes, it’s June. The Christmas train has been put away for about 5 months now, so it seems plenty special to get it out and enjoy it again.

And so, we had Christmas train construction and play time last night. We got out the rest of the track, the Christmas train, the gingerbread cookie decorations (note — not real cookies), the Christmas wreaths for the train set and, of course, the little plastic Christmas trees that go with the set. Because, why not? Christmas is great and it’s really nice to just say yes once in a while for no real reason. Liam is so happy.

(The only unintended consequence is that Liam now has us counting down how many days until Santa comes . . . oops!) Merry Christmas to all (in June)!

Just one

Posted on June 6, 2013 by admin

Back when I was a parent to just one child, back in the days before Liam was born, when it was just me and Benjamin together every day, I used to get overwhelmed sometimes. I would get frustrated and tired, too. We had many, many good moments and good days, of course, but I was often left, at the end of the day, feeling like I might not be up to the job of being a parent — it was just so hard.

And then I had Liam, and after I got over the initial shock at having two children who both wanted my attention 24 hours/day and whose schedules and behaviors were completely uncorrelated (although that improved with time) things have kind of became the same — I have lots good moments, and good days, but also lots of days where I feel overwhelmed and frustrated and tired and sometimes I worry that I might not be up to being a parent.

(The first few weeks after Liam was born were a real shock. At first I thought, “How hard can it be? There’s two of them, sure, but I’m pretty much doing the same things for the second one that I’m doing for the first, right?” The problem with that logic is that yes, you just do the same things, but you do all of them twice as often and at completely unrelated times. It’s not like there’s “diaper time” and they line up to get changed. No — child 1 wants lunch exactly when child 2 has a poopy diaper and while you change that child 1 has broken a toy and while you fix that child 2 spilled the milk and while that was being cleaned up you burned the lunch which you completely forgot about . . . and so on, ALL DAY. My joke with Dan was that having a second child was like being employed full time at a job you liked and then taking on a second full time job that you also liked but that was completely different . . . and trying to do them at the exact same time. Imagine being a short-order cook while also being a telemarketer SIMULTANEOUSLY. That’s pretty much what it’s like.)

The thing is, after everything settled out and I figured out how to do the “mom of two” thing (as much as I have figured it out), I find that I don’t feel MORE frustrated or overwhelmed or tired than I did before, which is kind of surprising. I feel pretty much the same amount under water as the mom of two as I did as the mom of one.

That’s kind of nice — having two kids doesn’t diminish my number of happy days or happy moments (in fact, it adds to them, because I have twice the brilliant, beautiful, joyful energy in my life). And a major plus side to this is that sometimes, for just a little while, I’m only responsible for one child. Today, B is on an all-day field trip. Dan is picking him up at 4, so from 7:15 – 4:30, it’s just me and Liam. And, since I’m used to being mom-of-two all the time, being with just Liam for the day is a piece of cake. I miss B terribly, even though he’s only out for a few extra hours, but in the meantime, I’m impressed to find out how capable and resilient I feel dealing with the toddler dictatorship one-on-one. Chicken nuggets for lunch? No problem! You want to carry the brown bag to the store? You got it! You want to climb all the way up the stairs (twice)? Sure! Want to play race cars with me all morning? Yep!

When I think back to when Benjamin was 2 1/2, I know I didn’t handle the day-to-day demands and requests as gracefully as I can handle them now, even though we were one-on-one all the time. I understand that it’s because of the experience I’ve gained and the perspective I’ve acquired. But it’s also the “Too Much Noise” principle (if you haven’t read that, you should): things that used to be trying often seem pleasant after we’ve had to face larger challenges.

So for today, I’m missing Benjamin (and trying not to worry too much) while I’m also enjoying the novelty of feeling so calm, patient and capable as a parent. (Maybe the trick to feeling like a great mom is to borrow someone else’s child for a while — if I practice with three, then I ought to feel like two is really easy . . . right?)

To wake, or not to wake

Posted on June 4, 2013 by admin

Here we are, nearly at the end of Benjamin’s second year of preschool, and I still don’t really have a strategy for mornings like this one. In order to get B to school at his regular time (Dan usually takes him in if he needs to be there early), I have to be up by 7:15, so I can get the boys up by 7:30, so we can leave the house by 8:15 and arrive at school by 9:00. Usually, this poses no problem, because the kids almost never sleep past 7:00 in the morning. Before this morning, I can’t remember the last time I woke up to my alarm clock rather than my kids. And that’s fine — we usually get up a bit early, have time to enjoy breakfast and the kids even get to play a bit before it’s time to get dressed and get out the door.

And then there are days like today, and I don’t know what to do.

Today, my alarm went off at 7:15, and I actually hit snooze (which I never do) so I didn’t get up until 7:20. At 7:30, it was time to get the boys up, so I went into their room turned on the decorative star lights, left the door open and went in the kitchen to make coffee (which is pretty noisy). On the very rare occasion that they’re still asleep at 7:30, this always does the trick — at least one of them wakes up, who then typically wakes the other one up, and we get up and go about our morning.

Not today, though. All of my light turning on, door opening and coffee making yielded no response from the children. Nothing. I went in the living room to drink my coffee, and figured that at worst, we’d be a few minutes late to school. At 7:45, I went back in, got their clothes for the day together (opened and closed drawers and such). I wasn’t quiet about it. Still, nothing.

Waking up sleeping children goes against pretty much all of my motherly instincts, so I wanted to let them sleep. On the other hand, rushing groggy kids through a morning routine, only to be late, doesn’t sound like a good plan, either. At 8:00, I finally gave in and went in to wake B.

He was not happy. He was tired, he was crying, he wanted to be held (so that’s what I did). Since he was so unhappy, and I was holding him, we still weren’t making any progress towards getting to school. Liam still wasn’t up (even though B was making plenty of noise). I vowed never to wake B up again to get him to school, unless it was really important (in the fall, he’ll be limited to how many absences he can have, but right now, it doesn’t matter too much).

And that’s when I got really uncertain — should I wake Liam? Go through the same unhappiness from him? Should I just let B skip a day of school? Maybe Dan could come home and take B in to school? But wasn’t that kind of silly? Probably, Liam would be up in a few minutes, anyway. I knew that this was not a life-changing decision — we would all be ok whatever I decided, but I couldn’t let go of my angst about making the right choice. I became completely stuck. At this point, we were going to be late no matter what. B was unhappy. Liam was obviously tired. It was raining and windy out. I went back & forth in my head, again and again, and couldn’t figure out what to do. I felt paralyzed. B kept saying he wanted to stay home. He also kept saying how much he likes school. I had no clue what the right decision was.

By 8:45, I’d gotten Benjamin dressed for school, but Liam *still* wasn’t up. I gave up. I decided to keep B home for the day. I went back in their room, turned off the lights, closed the bedroom door, and let Liam sleep a bit longer.

I have no idea why I got so stuck over such a (relatively) small decision. I don’t know why I became so paralyzed about doing the “right” thing — really, whatever decision I made, there would be positives and negatives, and none of them earth-shattering. But I just couldn’t make a choice. Sitting here, hours later, thinking about it, it seems so silly. As it was, we had a fine day. Liam slept until 10:00 (which is pretty shocking — he must have really needed the sleep) and we had a nice day at home.

Tomorrow, B will go to school. He only has 15 days left this year, and I don’t want him to miss out on anything fun. Starting in July, both boys will be home with me each day, so they can get up whenever they want . . . which will, of course, probably mean 6:00 every morning. (Why doesn’t this “sleep until 10:00” thing ever happen on a Sunday when we have nowhere to go?!?)

What’s so great?

Posted on June 3, 2013 by admin

I feel incredibly fortunate to be the mom of two wonderful, sweet, amazing little boys. I tell them that, all the time — I tell them I love them more than anything in the entire universe, I tell them I feel lucky to be their mom, I tell them I think they’re the greatest kids I ever met. I mean all of it, very sincerely. The other day, as I was telling them how great I think they are, Benjamin responded with, “But why, Mom? Why are we so great?” and I answered rather lamely, with something about them being MY kids, and how all moms love their kids more than anything, and about how special and wonderful they are. And though all of that is true, it’s kind of beside the point. Of course I love them more than anything in the universe, and yes, all moms feel that way about their own kids. And they ARE really special and wonderful. But I can do better — there are so many more specific reasons why I feel like the luckiest mom in the entire world and why I think they’re so fantastic. Here are some of the ones I’ve thought of over the past few days. It’s not an exhaustive list, but it is some of the reasons why I think they’re so great.

To Benjamin & Liam —

Benjamin — I think you ask the BEST questions. Not only are you smart and clever, but you’re really thoughtful. You think about things, and when you have a question, it always gets right to the heart of the issue. You ask me questions that make me really think about the answers. You also notice EVERYTHING. You don’t miss anything that we see or that we do or that we say. You pick out tiny details of something and put information together in a profound way. I think the way you like to work together with your friends and family is pretty spectacular — we make a great team! I am constantly impressed by the way you love us all . . . especially the way you love and look after Liam (even though he drives you crazy sometimes and always wants to play with your toys). You are such a willing little guy — you are naturally thoughtful and cautious, but you are also willing to try new things, and you always trust me when I say things will be ok. You are a great listener — whenever I need your attention for something, I know that I will have it ( . . . ok, maybe not ALL the time, but MOST of the time). I love the way you can be so funny and silly, and I love how excited you are to learn new things and share them with everyone. You also do an AMAZING job of articulating how you think and feel — you are very wise about your own self, and you express yourself very, very well. I think the way you can be focused on something that has captured your attention is very cool. And I am thrilled to see the joy that you carry through your life.

Liam — I don’t think I have ever met anyone, in my entire life, with the enthusiasm and exuberance that you have. Whatever you do, you do 100%, with no holding back. You are bold, you are brave. And we always know how you feel about things — you have strong opinions, and you let everyone know what they are. You are not afraid to think and feel however you do, and you don’t worry about what anyone else thinks about it. And you are so, so sweet, especially with Benjamin. You always check to see how he’s doing, and make sure to tell him “everything will be ok” if he’s upset. I think it is so wonderful that you love to hug and cuddle, too — you are a super snuggler, and a very loving guy. And you are such a smart guy! You learn things that none of us can ever remember having taught you. You see so many details in the world, and you make great conclusions about the things you experience. I love that when you see something interesting, you want to investigate it right away. You love to share the things you see, or the things you’ve learned, with everyone. I think it is so cool that you are so independent — you like to try things for yourself and do things on your own. You love to be outside, because it gives you the greatest freedom to explore. You’ve loved to hike since you started walking — uphill and off-road are best. You are funny and joyful and happy. It makes me so happy to see the way that you embrace life.

So, that, my guys, is a little bit of why you’re so great. And even when you’re NOT all of those things (or any of them) I love you more than anything in the universe. I’m your mom, and I will always love you, no matter what. But I consider knowing you in the way that I do to be a massive privilege and outrageous good fortune. I am really lucky to be your mom. You guys are great kids.

The Orange Rhino project

Posted on May 31, 2013 by admin

Sometimes I have a hard time not losing my temper with my kids. In my case, that usually means getting fed up, irritated, overwhelmed and then saying something that I wish I hadn’t. It’s one thing when that comes from something frustrating, irritating, rude or just plain annoying that the kids are actually doing, but I have found, so often, that the root cause of my bad mood comes from something or somewhere or someone else, and it just comes out in the direction of my kids. And I find that unacceptable — there’s no reason I ought to use my kids as a place to vent my bad temper. I am not proud of it, and, in fact, I’ve spent a lot of energy since becoming a parent trying to figure out how not to do it. I’ve improved a lot, but I still stray over the line from constructive discipline to throwing a bit of a tantrum myself sometimes.

I’ve learned about the kinds of things that give me a short fuse: not getting enough sleep, getting too hungry, not showering, not using the bathroom when I need to. Basically, if I don’t take care of myself, it’s hard for me to take care of my kids. Being in a bad state myself means I can’t handle normal kid stuff in a good parent kind of way. So, I make that a priority. But that isn’t the whole picture. I snap at my kids more often when I’m angry at someone else — Dan, the landlord, someone who was rude to me on the bus — it could be anyone. Being angry at another adult, and not addressing it, puts me in a prime situation to lose my temper with my kids (which is totally not cool).

I don’t want to be a mom that can’t handle her own emotions like a grown up. I don’t want to be a mom that says something too harsh or too critical, and who says it too loudly or too angrily. When I do, I feel terrible. It hurts my kids. I apologize, and I know that helps, but it doesn’t erase it. And, when I lose my temper, it negates any reasonable consequence I might have imposed for a legitimately inappropriate behavior on their part — the focus becomes on my anger instead of on what they’re doing. And then, not only am I being a crappy mom in that moment, no one is learning anything.

I’m working on it. I’m all about self-improvement. But I’ve had a surprisingly difficult time getting helpful advice on this. It’s hard to talk about. There isn’t really a good time to say, “You know, my kids make me crazy, but it’s not always really my kids. Sometimes I’m just tired or overwhelmed and I snap at the kids and it makes us all feel terrible” during a playdate. I’m ashamed and embarrassed that I get angry with my kids. And, I have to assume that other people feel the same way, because I don’t think I’m the only mom who struggles with this, and no one else is talking about it, either. I think that normal, reasonable, generally kind moms don’t like to admit that they lose their temper (in whatever way it manifests for them) with their kids. But I’m a good mom, and I do, so I figure other good moms do, too. Since it’s hard for me to admit, it’s something I don’t really talk about, and I just try, really hard, not to do it. (Which doesn’t seem to be working all that well.)

I don’t think I have to be a “perfect” parent — I think there are always going to be things that kids do to inspire frustration, irritation or anger in their parents. And I actually think that’s a good thing — sometimes, when you do something you shouldn’t, people get mad. Life is like that. And I even think it’s ok for the kids to see the process of a parent being inappropriately upset, recognizing it, apologizing for it and correcting it — that’s how they’ll learn to manage those situations themselves. But I lose my cool too often about the wrong things for the wrong reasons, and I want to do better.

A few days ago, I read an essay that a friend linked to on Facebook. And it struck a nerve. I’m not a yeller — I rarely raise my voice with my kids (except when one of them is doing something dangerous, in which case I do tend to shriek a bit, but that doesn’t actually bother me). I doubt that the kind of anger I have would result in my kids being afraid of me (but I can’t guarantee it). I think, instead, that the kind of overwhelmed, “That’s it! I’ve had it! I just don’t care! I can’t do this!” kind of moments that I have could hurt their self-esteem, make them feel responsible for taking care of me, and undermine their confidence that I will take care of them. And I don’t want that. What she said gave me hope, because she used to yell at her kids, and she learned not to. I want to learn to improve myself, too, I just don’t know how. At the end of her article, the author linked to The Orange Rhino. And I started reading. She sounds a lot like me. And she felt just as crappy about losing her temper with her kids as I do. And, most importantly, she made a committment to herself and her kids to not yell for an entire year . . . and she did it.

And I want to do it, too. I can only imagine the kind of example I could set for my kids, and the kind of comfort and confidence I could give them if, in the next year, I only got upset about reasonable things and only at a reasonable level. Besides, I would feel great. I would actually *love* to have a bad day that didn’t end with me being a big meanie. How great would that be? How much better would we ALL feel? She’s just a mom that wanted to do better for her kids, and I am too. And after reading a bunch of pages on her site, I thought, “Oh, if she can do that, I totally can too” and I went away, feeling inspired. And 24 hours later, I lost my temper again. (We were taking Bailey outside, and Benjamin was leaning on a grumpy neighbors car, and I kind of freaked out about it — “What are you doing? Come over here! Right now! Don’t do that!” when I could have just said, “Oops! No touching other people’s cars. Let’s go over here . . . “)

And so I went back to the site, feeling less arrogant and more humble, looking for more advice and inspiration. And I saw that she’s redoing a month long “yell less” project for moms who want to parent better. And, perfect timing — it starts next week.

So, I signed up. It starts Monday. So, just in case there are any other good moms out there who sometimes lose their tempers with their kids and wish that they didn’t, you’re not alone. And I have no idea if this will help, but I’m willing to give anything a try.

Sommerfest

Posted on May 29, 2013 by admin

Yesterday, Benjamin invited us all to his school for Family Day. It’s part end-of-the-year celebration, part open house, part excuse to go outside and enjoy the beautiful late spring/early summer weather. Dan took the afternoon off of work, the boys skipped nap time, and we all ventured over to the school to enjoy the day.

We had a better idea of what to expect this year, and we’ve all been looking forward to it for a few weeks. B loves getting to bring us to school and show us around, and we all had a great time. We went around to each of the stations and collected stamps at each spot. We painted faces, decorated balloons, watched/helped the boys do an obstacle course, put together a big clown puzzle, did (and won!) a three-legged race, and knocked down cans with a ball. Plus, the boys took lots of opportunities to run around with friends, kick soccer balls, swing on the swings and slide down the slide. We also enjoyed some muffins and cakes made with help from the kids. We played and laughed and thoroughly enjoyed a lovely afternoon at B’s school. This year, we know a lot more of the kids and the parents, plus we’ve gotten to know many of the teachers better. I think we all felt like much more a part of the community this time around, and it made it even more fun.

And Liam got a special treat — he got to visit with his teacher for next fall. She even showed him around his new classroom. (He’s very excited — they have trucks and cars to play with. When it was time to go, he curled up on the floor and didn’t want to leave, which I think is a great sign for September.) We had the thought that the next time a family event comes around at school, Liam won’t be just tagging along — he’ll be a student there, too. (Which is kind of mind-blowing. He was just 6 months old when we arrived here, and this coming fall he’ll be participating in Lantern Fest!)

At the end, the boys brought their collection of stamps to the kitchen, where they each got a bag filled with popcorn. And we got to take two very tired boys home. Good times were had by all.

Liam goes to the dentist

Posted on May 28, 2013 by admin

Today was Liam’s first ever dentist visit. He was too young to have gone before we moved here to Austria, and I was kind of waiting until we had a visit home to visit our (much loved) dentist in Virginia. But, a few weeks ago, I noticed a spot on one of his front teeth, and I’ve been freaked out ever since. The pediatrician and I agreed that it needed to be seen by a dentist, and probably shouldn’t wait until our next visit home to the US (scheduled for December).

I’ve been worrying about it since. I’ve been worried that it’s something dire, I’ve been worried he’ll be uncooperative at the appointment, or traumatized by it. I’ve been worried that there was something that I’ve done (or didn’t do) to cause him some kind of horrible dental damage. We had an appointment scheduled for 2 weeks ago, but he was sick with some kind of flu-like illness, and it just didn’t seem like a fair time to subject him to a first dental visit, so we put it off until today (and since then I’ve been worried about some awful consequence resulting from the delay).

I’ve been anxious about the visit for days. I woke up early this morning and laid in bed, stressing about it. How was it going to go? This isn’t a children’s dentist — would they know how to handle a 2 year old? What was the dentist going to say? What would happen next? Would I feel comfortable with any problem being solved here, or would I feel the need to have it taken care of at home? How urgent would it be? Would I have to make an extra trip home with Liam to get it taken care of? (This is how I spent an hour of my early morning today.)

So, just before 9:00 this morning, I dragged an uncooperative Liam out of the house (not literally, but almost — he didn’t even have his shoes on). The elevator was broken and he wouldn’t walk, so our trip began with me carrying him down the stairs from the 6th floor. We’d been talking about this visit for weeks, and telling him what to expect. We told him the dentist was going to look in his mouth and count his teeth. We told him it would be ok, and that it would be quick and easy (Benjamin added his reassurances). But apparently, he did not want to go. I did not feel encouraged.

But, we made it. I carried him the whole way to the strassenbahn, and the whole way to the office, but we made it (and only a few minutes late). As we made our way to the office, he calmed down and regained some of his enthusiasm. I reminded him that the dentist was going to look at his teeth (which he said was “ok”). But as soon as we got into the reception area, he stopped looking at anyone, stopped talking, curled up against my chest and hid.

The dentist was great, though. They told me I could fill out the paperwork afterwards, so he wouldn’t have to wait, and we went straight in. I sat in the “big” chair, with Liam on my lap, and the dentist and I just talked for several minutes, about Liam, about his history, and about my concerns. After a few minutes, Liam started peeking out for quick glances, and then started listening without hiding. I told him the dentist wanted to count his teeth, and he tentatively opened his mouth a tiny bit. The dentist gently checked out his teeth, and even got a mirror in to see the backs of them. Liam did GREAT (although he did not speak a single word the entire time — it may be the quietest 10 waking minutes Liam has had since he started to talk).

It turns out that the discoloration on his tooth is an early form of decay (pre-cavity) and that there’s nothing actionable about it for the moment. We just need to keep an eye on it and be fastidious with our oral care for him. (Which, apparently, we already are — the dentist was pretty impressed that we’re already flossing.) Evidently the dentist’s son had the same thing, and it didn’t get worse or better, or need particular attention. So, nothing catastrophic there. (He suspected that pain medicine/fever reducer was to blame in his son’s case — it showed up shortly after they’d been using it a lot, and it’s one of those things that we routinely give after teeth brushing . . . and it contains a lot of sugar. I’m guessing it might be the same thing here.) The dentist was impressed with how well Liam behaved and how willing he was to have his teeth looked at by a stranger. (I’m feeling pretty proud right now.) And then, after the exam, Liam got to pick out a toy (a blue race car) and his smile and chatter came right back.

So, all that worry was pretty much for nothing. I’m glad I got it looked at, but I’m even more glad that all is well for the moment. I’m glad he doesn’t need any urgent dental care right now. And I’m really proud of my brave little guy who trusted me so much today.

Religion and Happy Meals

Posted on May 24, 2013 by admin

Although they aren’t on every street corner, we have fast food restaurants here in Austria, too. McDonald’s is the most common, but there are a few Burger Kings and Subways, too (although I’ve never gone into one) plus at least one, NordSee, that you’ve probably never even heard of (they serve fish, and often some strange ketchup-y sauces sometimes used in excess). The basic premise at McDonald’s here is the pretty much the same as at home: mostly burgers, chicken sandwiches and french fries, with ice cream sundaes for dessert (although they also have other things that we really ought to have back in the States, like a full coffee bar and waffle fries).

We tend to do a quick, convenient dinner about once a week, whether that means ordering pizza, picking up street food or carry out from a local restaurant, or, on occasion, getting McDonald’s. Last week we had a McDonald’s night, and, as usual, the boys chose to get Happy Meals . . . which are pretty much exactly like what you’d get back at home, except that sometimes, the toy is something fantastically cool, like a pedometer or a sheep-shaped cereal bowl. Last week, the “toy” was actually a book. The boys got their choice of 6 different, full size, full color books — B chose a book that came with a ton of stickers and Liam chose a hardback book that came with 3-D glasses . . . and which started off with three pages worth of an explanation of evolution.

Aside from the books being pretty darn cool as a freebie with a Happy Meal, I was pleasantly surprised to find evolution in Liam’s book, mostly because here, in one of the most Catholic countries in the world, in the city that was the seat of the Holy Roman Empire for over 300 years, it’s not really considered controversial to give out books that treat evolution as scientific fact to little kids.

But in the US, I think it would be. I suspect that in the States, if McDonald’s were giving out books stating the facts of evolution along with Happy Meals, there would be outrage and boycotts. Social media would explode with exclamations about intolerance, persecution and freedom of religion.

And here, no one seems to think it’s an issue. (Although, to be fair, my German isn’t that good, so it’s also possible that it is and I missed it . . . I’m mostly kidding.) I really think that no one here thinks it’s a big deal . . . at least not on a cultural level. It’s not that religion isn’t respected here. It is, tremendously. The entire nation and culture is overwhelming influenced by Christianity, and more specifically, Catholicism. The country’s calendar of holidays is dominated by the church, and while people aren’t overtly and dogmatically oppressive about their religious views, the tenets of Catholicism are pervasive here. (Although the Austrians that I know claim that Austria, and Vienna in particular, is “not very religious”, I disagree. I see it everywhere. For instance, there’s no “Happy Holidays” here, it’s always “Merry Christmas”, and the state-run schools are unembarrassed about their inclusion of the celebration of Catholic holidays and discussion of saints within the school year, although they don’t actually teach religion in any sense. It’s simply that these ideas are so woven into the fabric of life here that they don’t see that as “religion” . . . which is exactly my point — Catholicism and Christianity are so commonly practiced and believed that they are completely taken for granted and the acceptance of them is assumed.)

The freedom of people to believe and practice other religions is taken seriously here, as well. The legacy that Austria carried out of the second World War is one that people here want to leave in the past, and there is a strong feeling of sensitivity towards those who aren’t Catholic or Christian, too. Culturally, especially among young people, Austria wants to be inclusive. Religious tolerance is important here.

But, even with all of that, it seems to be a complete non-issue that McDonald’s is giving away books that teach evolution as a matter of fact. As far as I can tell, no one cares. I think the difference is that people here don’t equate “respecting” their religion with expecting everyone else to believe the same thing as they do. They don’t view it at anyone else’s duty to not disagree with their religious beliefs. Respect of your right to believe something doesn’t necessarily require that I agree with you.

Also, with the caveat that my sample size is pretty small (in that I don’t know very many Austrians well enough to have had these kinds of discussions) I feel like that people here, no matter their religious beliefs, don’t deny the truth of science. The very religious have either consciously chosen to accept or ignore the contradictions, or they’ve come up with some internal way of reconciling it . . . but regardless, they don’t expect everyone else to avoid contradicting their core beliefs. Here, disagreement doesn’t seem to equal persecution, disagreement doesn’t equal disrespect, and respect doesn’t require agreement. And that’s not something I’m really used to seeing.

I’m not trying to critique or admonish anyone in the US, or anywhere else. But I am grateful to see a culture that doesn’t have a knee-jerk reaction to something that might disagree with a personal belief. On an individual level, the religious people I know are intelligent, accepting, and understand that not everyone is going to agree on something as deeply personal as religion. But on a cultural level, I think there would be a vociferous reaction to a book in a Happy Meal that talked about evolution.

These are generalizations, of course, and I haven’t been here very long yet, so there are probably things that I’m missing. But I do get the sense that there has been a more successful reconciliation between religion and science here. At least, no one is boycotting McDonald’s today. The profoundly religious culture that exists here seems to live peacefully alongside an acceptance of science. From my American perspective, it’s pretty stunning.

Survived

Posted on May 23, 2013 by admin

So, we made it. I got through 44 hours-ish, just me & the kids. (Which doesn’t sound as impressive now as it felt when I was doing it.) My worries were pretty much for nothing. We had a really nice time and the boys were great — helpful, cooperative and patient with the inherent slowness that comes from having one parent do the work of two. We ate a lot of pizza and leftover spaghetti, read stories in my bed (which is something I think we ought to do more often) and B missed a day of school. Success!

Of course, I didn’t “do” everything. It was only two days, so I let a lot of things slide. Bailey went to the dog-sitter so I wouldn’t have to take him out 4 times per day (no yard here) or worry about what to do if he needed to go out after the boys were sleeping. Because it was only two days, I didn’t have to do a big grocery shopping trip, run any errands, keep any appointments, or even take out the trash or recycling. Really, I had it pretty easy . . . but I’m still grateful that it went well.

In fact, I think the two days before the trip were more stressful than the actual time that Dan was away — that’s when I was worrying about what COULD go wrong. As it turns out, I had only one truly legitimate worry while Dan was away — making sure to not get hurt.

It occurred to me before the trip, and came to mind again and again while Dan was gone — I had to make absolutely sure I took good care of myself, since I was the only one home with the kids. Playing outside on the terrace, when the floor got very slippery, I took great care not to slip. Hurrying to take a shower as quickly as possible, I had to remind myself not to be TOO quick, because I didn’t want to risk falling. Preparing our meals, I was extra careful and cautious to not burn or cut myself. Any of those things, on a normal day, would be bad, but while Dan was gone, it would have been awful. At the least, it could have meant having to drag both kids to the emergency room to tend to an injury of mine, at worst it could have meant being incapacitated, leaving the kids without care or supervision and/or having to take care of me in some way. Not to be overly dramatic, but any of that really could have been horrible.

Needless to say, none of that happened. But that was the big, consistent worry in my mind, and the only real stress I had to handle. And, in that way, Dan being out of town while we’re here, in Austria, so far away from so many family and friends, is vastly different than him being out of town when we were at home in the States. At home, I probably would have had my mom staying with me, or at least stopping by regularly. As it was, she (and Dan) checked in on me regularly by text and email . . . but what would anyone have *done* if I had gone a long time without responding? At home, my family and friends were only a phone call and a short drive away. At home, even if I’d been stuck and posted a desperate “help!” message on Facebook, someone I know would have been able to come to my rescue. Here, I really am much more on my own, which did give the two days without Dan more of a “wilderness survival show” feel than I expected.

Regardless, we made it. In fact, we had fun. I really enjoyed putting aside my to-do list and just focusing on the boys. I proved to be perfectly capable of taking care of everything (everything important, at least) for almost 48 hours on my own. (But I think next time I may ask some neighbors to check in on us or at least put some of my Vienna friends on speed dial before Dan goes. I think it would be more fun if it *didn’t* feel like an episode of a survival show.)

Day two

Posted on May 22, 2013 by admin

Well, everything is still going well. Aside from a (relatively inevitable) spill at the dinner table caused by me over-filling Benjamin’s water, which he happened to be holding when he sneezed rather enthusiastically, resulting in a complete outfit change on my part, things have gone amazingly well. And then we had perhaps the most intense and sustained thunderstorms I’ve yet experienced in Vienna yesterday evening. But other than closing the windows, repeated assurances that everything was fine and a little bit of a snuggle in Mommy’s bed, that was really not an issue. Bath time was uneventful, I eventually got Liam’s teeth flossed and brushed (always a challenge), and although it took a long time to get the boys to sleep, they slept through the night.

Then, this morning, Liam slept in, and I couldn’t bring myself to wake him, so I took the easy way out and kept B home this morning — the only other options were being late to school (stressful) or waking Liam just to get B to school (against every mothering instinct I have). So, we stayed in. I made a gourmet lunch of frozen pizza and leftover chicken nuggets, and we had an easy morning.

And now we’re in the homestretch, so it looks like I worried for nothing. The kids are a little louder, wilder, and less cooperative today (owing, in part, to B not getting to run around at school this morning, I’m sure). But we’re actually having a pretty nice time.

I’m grateful for coffee and for chocolate (both of which I’ve consumed in copious amounts). We were lucky enough to have some friends stop by for a bit this morning (excellent for my sanity). Yay for nap time. And bedtime. And TV. But I think we’re going to handle this challenge just fine. (But now I’m wondering if I haven’t jinxed the next 9 hours . . . )

A Mommy Abroad

Our big adventure, as a family of three.

Category Archives: Kids and Parenting