I am good at many things.  And I enjoy doing a lot of things that other people consider fairly onerous — I kind of enjoy doing laundry, doing the taxes and balancing my checkbook are sort of fun, grooming and cleaning up after horses is downright therapeutic, and I don’t even mind changing diapers.  But I’m not a good cook, and I don’t really enjoy cooking, so I consider myself really fortunate that when Jo came to stay with us, she took over most of the cooking for the family.

Of all the meals she’s made and all the cooking she’s done, today was the best so far.  We had plans to go out for a Thanksgiving-inspired Austrian meal for dinner, so Jo volunteered to make brunch (and she was actually EXCITED about it).

She really outdid herself, making a two course brunch, starting with fresh fruit, chocolate, coffee and croissants, followed by a “second breakfast” of omelets, bacon and French toast dumpling things.  It was fantastic.  She seemed as enthusiastic about having cooked for us as we were to have eaten it.  We thanked her profusely, but Benjamin wins for the best reaction.

During our “second breakfast”, B initially refused to eat almost anything.  He didn’t eat more than a few bites of bacon and he only picked at his eggs.  He flatly refused to try the French toast dumplings, insisting (as children do when they’re 4) that they were “gross” even though he hadn’t tried one.  Dan managed to convince him to try a tiny nibble by comparing the flavor to cookies, and after one taste, he was as hooked as the rest of us were.  He started by saying, “Man, awesome yummy!” followed by, “Really, really Top Chef, Jo!”  After eating a few more, he looked at her and smiled, and told her, “Jo, you’re going to be a chef when you grow up!”

We all enjoyed our indulgent Thanksgiving brunch, and we all made sure to tell Jo how much we liked it.  I don’t think anyone else’s compliments meant as much, though.

I’ve been inspired by many of my friends who have been writing, each day so far in November, about what they are thankful for.  The last few days, I’ve been a little down — I’m missing home, and all of my family and friends there, very badly, and I’ve been struggling with a bit of a grumpy and frazzled mood.  I’d been working on this list, adding one each day so far this month, with the intention of posting it at the end of the month.  But, I think I could do with a bit of focusing on what I have to be grateful for, instead of what I’m sad about.  So in honor of Thanksgiving Eve, I am thankful for . . .

. . . having two wonderful, beautiful, sweet, darling children.

. . . having an amazing, loving and supportive mother, father and step-mother and for having 5 of the best siblings anyone could possibly ask for.  I also have a wonderful (and huge) extended family.

. . . a loving and dedicated husband who works with me every day to build a strong life together.

. . . my friends at home who jump to help someone they don’t know, just because I asked.

. . . my sister Jo, for being here and giving us the opportunity to do some things that would have been so much harder (or impossible) otherwise.

. . . the wonderful Post Office (both American and Austrian) for helping me keep in touch with my loved ones at home, get the things that I need, send gifts across the ocean and get all of my bills paid from thousands of miles away.

. . . not having to work.  When Benjamin was born, I knew within hours that I wanted to be home with him instead of going back to work.  I never expected to feel that way, and I am so grateful that we were able to actually make it work.

. . . even more amazing friends at home who are STILL helping me manage things (dresses, horses, clothes for the kids).

. . . public transportation in Austria.  It is wonderful to get where I need to go simply, promptly and reliably.

. . . Christmas markets.  Pure festive awesomeness.

. . . this inconceivable opportunity to live and travel abroad with my family.  The things that we have done and seen in the past year and a half astound me.

. . . the kindness and patience of the Austrians I’ve met.  Given my frequent cluelessness and general butchery of the German language, I’m kind of amazed I don’t encounter more irritation and rolled eyes.

. . . the people here who have been open enough to offer me their friendship.

. . . the good health of my entire family.

. . . technology.  Having Skype, Facebook, and email, plus a camera and super computer in my pocket that keep me connected to those I love at home.  I am so grateful for being able to share in new baby pictures, to see my family all the time, to share a laugh with a friend, and to be able to share this with everyone at home, even though we’re so far apart.

. . . the ability to write and express myself . . . and that some of you actually READ this!  (Some of you every day!)

. . . my own ability to change, grow, accept when I’m wrong, learn a new way, let go of things that don’t serve me, and evolve in order to make life better (for all of us).

. . . my body, which nurtured and protected my kids while they were growing.

. . . Christmas lights and all festivals which celebrate our strength against the darkness.

. . . Bailey, the best dog in the world.

. . . horses.  All of them, everywhere, but particularly the ones that I’ve been lucky enough to know and love well in my life: Cricket, Ellie, Shadow, Gretchen and many, many others.

That’s one for each day in November so far, but I think I could go on (and on, and on).  I have so much to be thankful for.  Life is pretty awesome.

I love the Christmas markets in Vienna.  They’re my favorite part of the Christmas season, and they contribute to Christmas being one of my favorite times of year here.  Last year, we made a point to visit most of the “big” markets, and we plan to revisit all of those this year, and then add a few to our list (I came up with a whole neurotic strategy about it the other day).

But, I think it’s important to note that there are two different kinds of visits that I make to Christmas markets — with kids, and without.  Or, I could say, looking and shopping.  The point is, I learned last year not to expect to really accomplish anything when I go to the markets with the kids in tow.

We tried, last year.  We tried, and we made ourselves miserable.  We’d go to the market, and try to do some actual shopping, entertain the kids, keep them from touching everything, have something to eat, ride the rides, look at the lights, and have a holly-jolly time.  We’d end up saying “no” to the boys 4,000 times — about things we wouldn’t buy them, things they couldn’t touch, eat or play with.  They had to hold our hands, or we had to hold them, or we had to bring the stroller so one of them could ride AND we’d have a place to stash our purchases while still keeping our hands free to keep the kids from grabbing everything out for display at the market stalls.  By the end of half an hour of this craziness, we’d all be crabby, the kids would be crying, and no one would be having the least bit of fun.

But, we figured it out.  After a handful of charming trips like these, we changed our tactics.  When we went to the markets with the kids, we went to enjoy ourselves.  We’d explain to them ahead of time that they wouldn’t be able to touch the things in the market stalls unless it was welcomed (it is at some toy shops).  We’d explain that we weren’t going to buy toys or hats or clothes for them while we were there, but that they were welcome to show us the things that they liked the best.  We explained they could each pick out ONE TREAT while we were there.  We would plan to ride the train OR ride the rides OR go on the pony rides OR walk around and look at the lights.  And then we’d go, and spend about half an hour doing just those fun, kid-friendly things.  We’d keep it simple — eat a treat, look at stuff, go on a ride, go home.  Short and sweet, with something to enjoy and not too much to tolerate.  Not too many “no”s.  And it became fun to go again.  Sometimes we’d find something unexpected, like live music, or room for the kids to run and play, and we’d end up staying longer, but we always called it quits at the first sign that it was starting to become a chore instead of something fun.

And then, if we wanted to shop, we’d make a different kind of trip entirely.  Typically, either Dan or I would go back and make a “surgical strike” to pick up just what we had seen that we wanted to buy.  Or, a few times, one or the other of us would go on our own and spend an hour or so having a lovely time browsing and shopping with our hands free.  And, one lovely morning last year, a friend of ours came over, and watched Benjamin while Dan & I took Liam (who was asleep in the stroller) to a market and we shopped for a few hours, very peacefully.  (The moral of the story is, grown ups like shopping, kids really don’t . . . especially when it isn’t all for them.)

That’s the plan again this year.  Some of the markets are more fun to explore with the kids, and others have better shopping.  We’re not going to try to be “efficient” (which never works out anyway) when we do this.  We’re either going to go and relax, have fun all together as a family, or go and shop and “accomplish” something.  It just didn’t work out well to try to mix the two.

For all the travel that we’ve done with the kids, I wonder sometimes how much of it is sinking in.  I truly believe that the things that they’re seeing and learning will benefit them throughout their lives, but I’m not really sure how much of the experience they’re understanding and appreciating right now, while we’re going through it.  Part of it is that I wonder if they’re even aware of the geographic differences in the places we’re travelling to (does it really hit them how far apart some of these places are, or does any travel over an hour just register as “terrible” to a preschooler and a toddler?) and I don’t know if they realize how unusual their perspective is (in the same way that I imagine that someone who has been wealthy their entire life couldn’t appreciate what financial hardship was really like).

Of course, there’s no way for me to really know.  And I’m sure that the distances they travel and the rarity of the opportunity they have are somewhat lost on them.  But I do think they get it, at least a little.

One of their favorite movies is Cars 2 (the other favorite is, shockingly, Cars).  We watch the Cars 2 movie ALL THE TIME (we watch at least pieces of it almost daily).  And, at the end of the movie, there is a cute little cartoon montage of all of the places that Lightning McQueen and Mater go and visit (some are seen in the movie, but many are not).  Recently, Liam has started pointing at the TV and shouting, “I’ve been THERE!” as the animation goes through various places in London, Paris and Germany.  He’s right.  He has.  (He’ll also occasionally say that he’s been to Spain or Australia, but still, he’s pretty close.  Hey, he’s *2*.)  B has started doing this, too (he’s right even more often) and he’s also started a wish list based on the other places shown in the montage.  (He wants to go to Spain, Italy, Egypt, India, China, Tokyo, Australia and Radiator Springs — that last one might be tricky.  He’s also put in a request for a return trip to Paris.)

So, I think they do get it.  They know that they’ve seen Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge, Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower and the Seine.  The recognize the German scene (maybe by the Lederhosen?) and know that we’re going to go to Italy soon.  They have a travel wish list, and they’ve chosen some exciting and exotic places.  They’re not even in school yet, and B “can’t wait” to see Tokyo and the Great Wall of China.  I think that’s fantastically cool.  It makes me smile every single time — it’s my favorite part about watching that movie.  (Well, that and Uncle Toppolino’s village in Italy — THAT is where I want to go.)

As I was dropping B off at school today, one of his teachers was helping to wrangle some of the 5 year olds for a field trip (something to do with school next year, so only the oldest kids were involved).  I said hello, got B’s coat off and waited while he changed his shoes, walked him to class, gave him a hug and kiss and headed to catch the bus to go home.

While I was waiting for my bus, the teachers and kids from B’s school came along.  They walked along the sidewalk, about 14 kids and 3 teachers.  This is a common sight in Austria — kids out on field trips or walks to the parks, bundled into coats, hats and mittens, lined up two-by-two, holding hands and flanked by teachers.  It is very sweet.

In order to catch the bus going the other way, they all had to cross the street, and I watched with interest, because, on a different day, it might have been my child crossing the road without me.

The first teacher stopped the line, carefully looked both ways for cars, and stepped out into the crosswalk.  She walked halfway across, and stopped, facing the lane of traffic (no cars were coming).  Another teacher waited with the kids while the third joined the first, but on the opposite side of the crosswalk and facing the other direction of traffic.  They held their arms out, creating a bridge for the kids across the road while the third teacher herded them across.

When they reached the other side, the kids gathered and waited while the teachers caught up, collected hands, got the kids back in line and set off again.  They moved quickly and efficiently without much discussion or any indecision.  It’s obvious that they’ve all done this before.

The way they handled it — carefully and seriously but without extra stress — was incredibly comforting, and the way the teachers stood in the road, watching everything and blocking the cars, was so caring and protective that it brought tears to my eyes.

They were so focused that they didn’t see me until they’d crossed to the other side of the street and made it to the bus stop opposite from where I was standing.  It was a pleasant surprise to see something so comforting and confidence inspiring as I spied on them a little.  I am really happy by the level of care and attention that I saw, and the next time B is out with his class, I might worry a little less.  (But still, only a little.)

Every year, about the time that I start Christmas shopping for the kids, I become overwhelmed with the knowledge of how many toys we already have in our house.  Really, it’s kind of ridiculous.  We have so much stuff.  And, as I start to contemplate the new things that the boys will find under the tree on Christmas morning, I start to look around and see what we could do without.

I always go around and gather up some toys that have been outgrown, or that haven’t been played with in a long while.  Some things get packed up in the closet, and some things go in a donation and give away pile.  Then, many of the things that got put away in the closet LAST year and haven’t been missed since also get put in the donation pile — if they haven’t missed it in a year, they’ll survive without it.

It’s always been a little tough because Benjamin gets really attached to his toys.  In years past, I’ve tried to include him in the donation process, and it has always ended in tears and hysterics, because there just isn’t anything he can bear to part with.  (I was the same way as a kid — I got very attached to toys and other stuff and had a hard time parting with anything, which is part of why Benjamin and Liam currently play with several things that are well over 30 years old.)

Today was a “toy donation day” and I started the process of going through the things squirreled away from last year while B was still at school (to reduce the trauma).  Liam watched me with curiosity as I dug toys out of the closet.  There were a few things he wanted to play with, but mostly he just watched.  He asked, “What doing, Mama?” and I explained that we had more toys than we need and that I was packing them up so that we could give them away to someone who didn’t have enough.  “Ok”, he said, and that was that.  With only one exception, there was no objection and no tears as I packed things away in bags and stuck them in the corner of the bedroom, explaining that we weren’t going to play with them any more.

In fact, it went so well, and so without strife that I decided to try, again, to involve both boys in the process this time.  When B got home from school, I told him that we had a project.  I explained that I wanted them each to select one toy — one from the toys that are out and that they play with, not from the ones stuck in the recesses of the closet — to give away to children that might not have any other toys or presents to open on Christmas morning.

And then, instead of tears, I got a surprise.  B nodded, bent down, and picked up the first thing that he saw (a remote controlled train).  Liam offered his bike.  B then proceeded to pick out a remote controlled car (that he just got this summer and plays with a lot — in fact, it is so prized that I had to get it down off of a shelf where he had us put it so that Liam couldn’t play with it) and another train.  “These are for the kids that don’t have toys, Mom.  I don’t need these anymore, and I think they might like them.”

Well, that’s pretty awesome.  No tears, no unhappiness.  I confirmed B’s choices with him a few times (we opted to keep one of the trains, and Liam’s bike, because I”m not sure Liam understood the permanence we were talking about — I think he thought it was more like sharing) and we piled up quite a few items to donate through Dan’s work.  I am so proud of, and impressed with, my boys.  There was a lot of kindness and generosity in their choices, and best of all, they seemed really happy to be helping.

I think my kids are pretty awesome.  I think they’re beautiful and brilliant and super sweet (most of the time).  I am routinely impressed and amazed by cool new things that they learn or wonderful things they do.  I think it’s pretty normal that I’m so thrilled by them — I’m their mom, and therefore, their biggest cheerleader.

Today is no exception — today B read a word.

He’s been able to recognize his name for a long time, and he can read most letters (and all the numbers) almost all of the time (sometimes “D” comes out as “T” and “Q” ends up being all manner of things).  But, other than his name, and Liam’s name, he’s never looked at a word and been able to figure out what it was, other than simply deciphering the individual letters.

Today, when Jo & I were talking, I was spelling something (my usual form of subterfuge) and B said, “I want a T-O-1!”  (Not a typo, he actually said, “I want a tee-oh-one!”)  I asked if he meant T-O-Y (which is a word we spell around them a lot, and it’s a lot shorter than C-H-O-C-O-L-A-T-E or I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M so he learned to recognize it a while ago) and he said that it was.  And, then, I realized that if he can spell the word, and he can read the letters, does that mean he can recognize the word?

So, I ran over to the chalkboard and wrote down TOY and asked him what it said, and he read, “T-O-Y . . .toy!”

And, there we go.  The first word of many.  (How cool is that?!?  Next up: the entire Harry Potter series.)

Between generally being busy, some rainy weather, various members of the family taking turns being a little sick and some naps that have lasted long enough that it’s gotten dark outside before the kids have gotten up (an odd and sometimes frustrating part of living so far north) we haven’t been getting out a lot in the afternoons.  In fact, since we got back from Tirol and Bavaria in mid-October, we haven’t made a single weekday park or playground trip.  Today was warm-ish and dry, and the kids were up from their naps before dark, so I jumped on the opportunity, got the boys dressed and we walked to the park.

I’ve never actually done that before — I’ve never taken both boys, on my own, to the playground without the stroller.  Liam has been going through a phase of not wanting to hold hands, and not wanting to be held, and the roads along the way are far too busy for him to walk on his own.  But today, I explained to both boys that they’d have to hold my hand the whole way, and they were great.  We had a lovely time, walking along the sidewalks, enjoying the end of the afternoon and holding hands.  When we got to the playground, the boys played together, staying close to each other and to me so we could all be together, and so I could keep an eye on both of them.  We weren’t able to stay long — we arrived just after 4:30 and it was already nearly dark, but enjoyed a few minutes of playing outside before it was time to head back.

On the way home, we walked the long way, past a brilliantly lit Christmas tree that just went up today.  We had a really nice time, a lovely evening together.  My guys are getting so big — big enough to go out without the stroller, big enough to understand when I explain to them the way things need to happen, and big enough to (at least occasionally) follow through and do what they need to so that we can have a great time together.

It was lovely to just be together.  I wrote the other day about how much I like being out and walking around the city.  Today, I got to do that, while holding hands with my two favorite people.  I am so lucky.

Yesterday evening was Lantern Fest at Benjamin’s school.  It was our second chance to watch Benjamin participate in Lantern Fest, and, again, we really enjoyed it.  As I understand it, these Lantern Fests happen all over Austria (actually, throughout much of central Europe) and although the tradition is loosely based on the story of St. Martin (who tore his cloak in half to share it with a poor man who had no cloak of his own), really primarily involves listening to small children sing songs and watching them parade around with lanterns that they make at school.  It’s sweet and darling, and we love it.

Last year, B struggled.  He’d only been in school for 2 months, and he pretty much hated it.  He’d had trouble learning the songs and following along with the instructions . . . because, of course, everything was in German.  He held hands with one of the teachers for a fair bit of the parading, and fell apart about halfway through and came to stand with me for the remainder of it.  Even so, he remembers it fondly (as do we) and I think it ended up being mostly a positive experience for him — even though it was tough, he was part of something fun at school, and that was really the first time that had happened.

It’s amazing how much a year can change things.  B did great.  From before we arrived, he was so excited.  When we got there, he greeted his friends with a hug, and went running off down the hall once he figured out where to go.  He happily joined his class to line up and get ready, and although he was still looking for us, once he saw us, and we waved to each other, he went back to playing and joking with his friends.  He did so well.  He walked along with the parade, he found his spot (waved to us again) and then sang all the songs.  He wasn’t nervous or worried (although he got a little tired at the end) and he was so excited about how well the whole thing went.

We were thrilled, too.  I was so happy to see him enjoy himself and to see that he seems to feel so comfortable there.  It was great to see how confident and self-assured he was.  I loved seeing him playing with and talking to his friends.  But best of all, at the end, he didn’t want to go home.  He still complains that he doesn’t want to go to school sometimes, but he truly does seem to have found happiness there.