Very soon, we will be leaving on a month-long (for me and the boys, a bit shorter for Dan) vacation to the US.  We will visit 3 states and see our entire immediate family plus as many friends as we can possibly manage.

Over the past week, we’ve been saying temporary goodbyes to our friends and neighbors.  Here, when you tell someone, “Oh, we’re going to be away for a month”, they say, “Oh, are you going on holiday?”  In the US, if you say you’re going away for a month, everyone says, “Wow!  A whole month?!?”  Which, I admit, is very much my own reaction — vacations that last a week seem normal (if uncommon in my own life until very recently), 2 weeks seems decadent, and a month of vacation occupies the same realm of my mind as private jets and summer houses.  Here, a week is oddly short, 2 weeks is minimum, and a month is pretty standard in the summer.

Hmm. I’m not sure they’re supposed to look like this BEFORE we go . . .

That being said, this is going to be a vacation.  A for-real vacation.  I’m sure I will still blog, because I’m sure I’ll still have experiences and observations I want to record.  However . . . since it’s a vacation, I’m not going to promise to write every single day, and what I do write may be brief.  (Besides, I’ll be back in the States, so it’s not really being A Mommy Abroad anyway . . . and A Mommy Back in the US just doesn’t sound the same.)Our bags are packed, we’re ready to go.  I have a few things left to pack before we leave, but we’re pretty much ready.  I’m not stressed or freaking out.  I think we have what we need, and my experience tells me that whatever extraneous energy I put into agonizing over what we’ve forgotten will be wasted.

So, starting now, I’m on vacation.  Ahh . . . .

This week, we leave on a major trip home to the US.  We’re going to Florida to visit Dan’s parents, then to Maryland to see my family and lots of friends, then to the beach in Delaware, then back to Maryland where Dan will leave us and fly back to Austria while the boys and I will stay on for more visiting.

It’s a big trip.  The boys and I will be gone for a whole month.  A month-long vacation.  Sounds GREAT.  (I’ve never been on vacation for that long.)  I’ve been talking to Benjamin and Liam a lot about what to expect — the travel, where we’re going to go and who we’re going to see, and how long we’re going to be away.  I’ve been encouraging B to be sure to say goodbye to all of his friends at school tomorrow (his last day before we leave) because he won’t see them again until August.  (Apparently, he spent today telling the other kids “all about his trip”.)

Today, I was talking to them about how excited I am to have such a long time to spend all together — how Daddy won’t work while we’re on our trip, and how B won’t got to school — that we’ll all be together every day, for almost a whole month!  B looked at me, wide-eyed, and said, “But what about Vienna?  I’m going to miss Vienna.”

I think it was the first moment that it dawned on him that we’re actually going to be away from here the whole time.  Honestly, it’s a little shocking to me, too.  Vienna is our home, and it’s very strange to imagine that we won’t be in our house, riding the trains, walking on the streets, stopping at Starbucks, or seeing our neighbors, for an ENTIRE month.

We’ve gotten so adept at travelling that packing up and leaving for a big trip isn’t panic-inducing anymore.  That’s great, but I think an unintended consequence of preparing for this trip in relative calm is that I’m not sure any of us has really impacted on the fact that we’re going away, to another country, for a month.  Sure, it’s the country that we came from, and we’re getting to see our families that we miss so much.  But still, Vienna has become our home, and we’re going to miss it while we’re away.

It gets really hot here.  Europe isn’t big on air conditioning, and we live in an attic apartment, so we collect all the heat from the apartments (and 2 restaurants — I don’t think that helps any) that are below us.  We have these great windows, nearly as tall as me, that we can’t open most of the time because they’re huge, they have nice, wide, climbable ledges, and they are each located directly above nice, climbable radiators.  As I routinely turn around and find Liam standing on the dining room table or Benjamin sitting on the back of the couch, I just can’t risk leaving the windows open when the kids are home (which is all the time).

So, it gets hot.  Yesterday it was 97 degrees outside, and the same in my house.  The hardest thing isn’t the heat during the day, though, it’s not getting to cool off at night.  When the low temperature doesn’t go below 85 for DAYS in a row, it really gets to me.  I never get a break from it.  Shops and restaurants (mostly) aren’t air conditioned.  Some of the trains are, but some aren’t.  Taking a shower is fantastic, but then as soon as I get out, I feel all gross and sticky again.  I’m not a fan of the heat under any circumstances, and I would say this is one of the hardest things about adjusting to living in Europe.

We do have a single-room air conditioning unit which is mildly effective.  It can generally keep the temperature at about 80, which I would have considered oppressive before moving here, but compared to 97, it’s actually pretty nice.  We set it up in the living room, thinking that it would be more important to lower the 97 degree temperatures during the day than it would be to lower the nighttime temperatures from 85 to 80.  Besides, we have 3 bedrooms, and one air conditioner, so at least during the day, we can all benefit from it.

Today, though, we’re going on our 10th day or so of these kind of temperatures, and I can’t take it anymore.  We’re moving in to the living room.  Actually, I started sleeping in the living room a few nights ago, to get out of the heat, but tonight, I decided I’d just go ahead and bring the whole family with me.  I’d let Benjamin sleep in his tent (it’s an adventure!) and have Liam sleep on the futon with me.  There isn’t really room on the futon for me and Liam and Dan, but we have a second couch, and Dan will sleep there.  And, of course, we won’t make Bailey sleep in his crate — he can join us in the living room, too  Perfect!

Except . . .the boys WANT to sleep in their rooms.  Their hot rooms, with windows that can only be cracked, with nothing but a single oscillating fan to cool them off.  They both had the option of sleeping in here, where I’m sitting and typing and enjoying the cool air, and instead, they’re sweating in their beds.

I kind of feel bad, but I guess they really like their rooms.  Or maybe the heat doesn’t bother them as much as it does me.

Never mind.  I just heard Benjamin crying and went in to find him drenched with sweat.  He’s curled up in his tent now.  I suspect little brother Liam won’t be far behind.

Yesterday I managed a new major milestone as a parent.  Benjamin came up to me with his mischievous grin on, and I knew something was up.  He looked me right in the eye and said, “Mommy . . . you’re poop!”  (Oh, my charming child.  I am very glad you are learning to play well with others, and to speak a little German, in school.  I am not so happy about this other stuff.)

And that’s when it happened.  I gave him “the look”.  The look that says, “Child, do you want to rethink that thing you just did or said?  Like RIGHT NOW?”  And . . . it worked!  It’s never worked before.  Usually, he just looks back and me and says, “What?” because he *knows* what the look is for, but he doesn’t feel compelled to heed it.  This time he looked back and me for about 15 seconds and said, “Mom, I’m never going to say that again”.  To which I replied, “I think that’s a great idea.”

That was awesome.  No yelling.  No time out.  Not even any words.  Just “the look”.  I have years to perfect it, but I’m pretty excited that it’s already effective.  I feel like I just developed mommy super powers.  (Actually, I think maybe I did.)

It’s hot here.  We have air conditioning in only one room — the living room, which is great for the day times but rough at night.  Liam has a hard time sleeping at night.  He, like me, is really sensitive to being to warm, whereas B will wear long pajamas, ask to have his blankets (ALL 7 of them) tucked in around him and still sleep through the night with only an oscillating fan to cool him off.  Liam isn’t like that, though.  I was up with Liam much of the night last night.  (Which is unfortunate, because although he wants to be cuddled because he’s uncomfortable, being cuddled only makes us both hotter.  My attempts to explain this don’t seem to be getting through.)

Which is why I was up at 4:30 this morning, wondering, “What light through yonder window breaks?  It is the east, and . . . wait . . . is that the sun?  Really?  It’s 4:37 in the morning?!?”  It wasn’t *quite* the sun (sunrise wasn’t until a whole 20 minutes later) but it was light out.  Really, honest to goodness, not just a bit of dawn, but seriously light out, at 4:37 this morning.

Vienna is at a much more northern latitude than I am used to (more like southern Canada, and I’m used to the mid-Atlantic) and even after experiencing this same thing last summer, I’m still astonished by it.  My kids rise with the sun, so they get up shortly after the sun is up (even though we’ve added blackout curtains since last year — some light gets past) and it is so hard to get them in bed before 10:00 at night (because, of course, it’s STILL light out).

It’s temporary.  This morning was actually the earliest sunrise of the year (I will have to do more research to figure out why that doesn’t coincide with the longest day of the year) so our rising times should get later from here on out.  It makes me wonder, though . . . what do parents in Alaska, Scandinavia, and even more northern latitudes do?  Do they get ANY sleep in June?

A while ago, I started collecting a list of things that I hear myself say that make me think, “Wait . . . what?!?”  Because parenting is like that.  You find yourself saying, in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice, some really absurd things.

I posted my first collection of “Things I never thought I’d say” back in November.  These are the ones I’ve been collecting since then:

Please stop chewing on my toes.  Stop hitting your brother with that bird.  Toothbrushes are not for cleaning the walls.  I know he’s wearing stripes, but the baby is not a xylophone.  Don’t hit the tv with your bike.  Don’t stand on your brother.  Very good job hammering with your fork.  No bikes on the couch.  You still have chocolate/pizza/strawberry behind/in your ear.  Don’t feed that crayon to the dog.  No feet in the popcorn bowl.  If you keep chewing on that mouse, I’m going to have to take it away from you.  No riding on the baby!  Yes, honey, I imagine unicorns do poop . . . or would . . . but only real ones, not that stuffed one.  Please don’t put beef in your ear.  Take that peanut out of your ear!  Just because you can ride a bike doesn’t mean you can stand on the back of the couch.

Yep.  Seriously.  I said all of those.  Now I’m off to start the next collection . . .  (I also think I’m going to start collecting, “Things Benjamin says”.  That’s entertaining, too.)

In about 3 weeks, Benjamin turns 4.  Which is astonishing to me, because could it really have been 4 years since that amazing, overwhelming, magical day when he was born and my entire purpose on this planet changed?  Apparently so.

On the big day, we will be in the US, at the beach, celebrating with family and having a marvelous time.  We are all looking forward to it very much.  But, there was one gift he wanted in particular which would have been difficult to transport on the plane and impossible to do so as a surprise.  We decided to coordinate his not-quite-birthday with the party that they threw for him at school yesterday.  (So, in true Virkus family fashion, this child is going to have over 3 weeks of birthday.  Excellent!)

His big gift was a bike.  A bike with actual pedals, a bell and a little flag.  It’s really cool.  If I was 3 years old, I would want it.  Actually, if it was a little bigger, I’d want it now.  He’s been riding a “pushing bike” for a year (he got that for his 2nd birthday) and he’s really gotten good at it.  He’s been practicing on the scooters that they have a school, and I thought that was what he was going to ask for for his birthday, but he asked for a pedalling bike.

Even getting the smallest one we could find, it’s barely little enough for him.  But, I was pretty sure he was ready.  He can pedal on his tricycle and balance and turn on his pushing bike, so all that’s left is to put the two skills together.  That’s pretty amazing, though.  I think I was 6 or 7 when I got my first “real” bike, and it had training wheels.  Here he is, at 3-almost-4, and we’re getting him his first real bike.

He rode it around the house for a bit yesterday.  It’s enough bigger than his pushing bike that he was having a lot of trouble just negotiating the furniture, the dog, and Liam without someone getting squished.  Adding in the pedalling, and he got a little frustrated.  “I’m not very good at pedalling”, he said, a few times yesterday.

So today, Dan took him out to the park at the Rathaus to practice.  I figured that it would take him a week or so to feel confident on the bike.  I figured he’d wobble, and maybe fall a few times, and possibly get discouraged before putting it all together.

Nope.  It took him 20 minutes.

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Benjamin can ride a bike.  He’ll be 4 next month.  He’ll be able to do this for his entire life.  (I can attest to the fact that even after almost 15 years off from bike riding, it really does come right back to you.)  I am astonished and very impressed.  What a cool kid.  I’m so proud of him.

Summer birthdays are great.  Over the years, I’ve spent my birthday celebrating at the beach, horseback riding, and many, many times with pool parties.  I also never really had to worry about whether school would interfere with my birthday plans — I never had to take a big test on my birthday, or study for one, or worry that some school social event would eclipse my birthday.

On the other hand, I never got to celebrate a birthday AT school, with my friends.  I only vaguely remember what elementary and middle school birthday celebrations were like.  I think there was cake.  There might have been balloons.  (But I do remember being a little jealous of getting to be celebrated in that way, while simultaneously being profoundly grateful to have never been the center of that kind of focused attention.)  It was also pretty common that my friends would be out of town when I was celebrating, which was a bummer.

I passed this problem on to Benjamin.  Like me, he has a July birthday, so no amount of extending the school year into June or starting early in August is going to make his birthday fall during school time.  Except, that this year, he’s in a “school” that runs all year.  Since he started attending kindergarten in September, his classmates’ birthdays have been a high point for him.  In the beginning, when he still didn’t “like school too well”, the days when there would be singing and cake would be most likely to send him home with a smile.  In November, he started talking about how much fun it would be to celebrate his birthday at school, with his friends, and that was back when I wasn’t sure we were going to stick it out until Christmas, let alone summertime.

This spring, we decided to plan our trip home to the US to include Benjamin’s birthday.  In fact, we’ll all be at the beach, celebrating together, when he turns 4.  I think it’s going to be fantastic for him, and very special to be surrounded by so many people who love him, especially since gatherings like that aren’t something we get to do here.  But, it also means he won’t be at school on his birthday.

I really wanted him to have the “school birthday” experience though, especially since he’s been excited about it for so long.  I brought it up to his teachers, a little nervously — I’m completely inexperienced with being a parent of a birthday kid at school, and I really have no idea how things are done here.  I needn’t have worried — they, too, wanted to give him a birthday at school, especially when I told them how much he’d been looking forward to it.

A few weeks ago, they told me that they would be celebrating his birthday today — June 25th.  He and one of his classmates (also with a summer birthday, who will also be out of town on his big day) would celebrate together.  And, surprisingly, they didn’t need me to do anything to prepare.  They took care of the cake, the plans, everything.  In fact . . . it isn’t something parents are even invited to.  (Which was a little weird to me, but that’s ok.)

So, today was the day.  B had his first (and possibly only) school birthday celebration!  They ate cake (chocolate), wore crowns and played instruments.  He had a wonderful time and came home completely worn out.

But, that wasn’t the end of his not-quite-birthday celebration.  Since we will be in the States for his actual birthday, and a few of his gifts aren’t easily transportable, we decided to continue his special day here at home.  He got to choose the menu for lunch (pizza) and dinner (chicken and rice), we gave him a few presents (including the big one — a bike with pedals) and then we all went out for ice cream this evening.

I think he had a great day.  He loves his new bike (although he has mentioned a few times that he isn’t yet very good at pedaling) and I think his celebration at school was really special for him.  I’m so glad he got to have a birthday at school, especially since he’s been looking forward to it for so long.

Happy not-quite birthday to my wonderful Benjamin.  I hope you had a wonderful day.

For some unfathomable reason, the power in our building was scheduled to be off for 5 hours in the middle of the day today.  On a Sunday.  When it’s over 90 degrees outside.  And nothing is open.  Faced with the prospect of spending 5 hot hours without fans or air conditioning, and without the tv or computer to help entertain the kids, we made plans to go out.

After asking around and considering our options, we settled on going swimming.  There are lots of publicly accessible swimming locations in Vienna (from pools to rivers) but one friend highly recommended a swimming area (bath, or “bad” in German) at a manmade lake just outside of the city.

So, just before 10:00 (when the power was set to go off) we set off for Tulln.  It was a quick train trip (less than 45 minutes from our front door to the train station in Tulln) and an easy, pleasant walk from there.  (Fair warning for anyone who tries the trip, though — although the bath itself is stroller accessible, the train station, remarkably, was not.  In fact, we’re pretty sure it was our first non-stroller-accessible train station in Austria.)

It was a beautiful day (if a little hot for my taste) and the swimming area was really crowded.  But it was lovely.  The lake was large and clean, surrounded by nice grassy areas (many of them shaded).  There was a sandy, gentle slope into the water which was roped off and set aside for little ones, and elsewhere around the lake, there were lots of fun things for more confident swimmers (trampoline islands, water slides, canoes and paddle boats).

Overdressed and ready to go!

Even though we expected it, it was a bit of a culture shock for us.  People here are much more comfortable with their bodies, and less judgemental of each other, which all leads to a lot less modesty than we, as relatively prudish Americans, are accustomed to.  Men, regardless of their age and physique, were most often in small, tight fitting, Speedo-type suits (although American style trunks and boardshorts were more common than we expected).  Most women wore two piece bathing suits, again, regardless of age or physical type.  And the kids were often naked. Nearly all of the babies (under 2) were completely unclothed (except for sun hats and water wings) and it wasn’t unusual to see older ones (up to maybe age 5 or 6?) in the buff as well, while the little girls mostly went with bottoms-only all the way up to about age 8 or so.  It was really different.  I definitely got the sense that people were there to be focused on the experience they were having, enjoying the day with their families, rather than agonizing about or feeling shameful over how they looked.  After a few minutes of adjusting to the difference, it was incredibly refreshing and liberating (although I ended up feeling excessively covered up in my own swimsuit, and my kids were the ONLY ONES with rash guards on).  I didn’t see anyone give anyone else a look of contempt for their appearance, and I didn’t hear a snicker or see any pointing (not even by the groups of teenaged girls).  Really, it was pretty astonishing.

Rocks, running water and lots of slopes = not lawsuit-proof.

We had a great time.  Liam slept though the first part, very happily, in a shady spot in his stroller, while B & I ventured out to try to practice his swimming.  We didn’t quite manage that, but he did wade a bit, and he let me carry him out all the way to the edge of the roped-off baby area (about hip-deep on me, so not very).  After his nap, Liam joined the fun, but he was uncertain about the water and the sand, as well, and mostly wanted to be carried around.  The boys got in a bit of play time on a rocky, slippery fountain area before we got ice cream and called it a day.

It was another successful adventure, mixing the familiarity of a day spent swimming with the family with a distinctly European sensibility about it.  It was a fun, easy and inexpensive day trip out of Vienna.  And it was immeasurably better than spending 5 hours with hot and cranky kids in a stuffy apartment.  WAY better.  And next time, I’ll worry less about what I wear.

Attending the Opera is a thoroughly Viennese activity — like going to see a Broadway show while in New York.  It’s been on my list of things to do while we’re living here, but we hadn’t gotten around to it.  Then I read about Vienna’s “Opera for All” earlier this spring, and that motivated me to really make it a priority.  Alongside the famous Vienna State Opera House, they put up a huge screen and project the performances that are happening inside, live, for free.  (How great is that?)

We’ve been trying to go for weeks, but things kept coming up (the kids were sick, the taxes had to be finished, we had our bike trip).  Today was supposed to be the day, but it was chilly (in late June — I love Vienna!) and rainy all day so I thought we were going to miss out on it yet again.  And, since we leave for our long trip to the US soon, I wasn’t sure we were going to be able to do it at all.

Then, we woke up from our naps and, voila!  The rain had cleared and was replaced with a beautiful blue sky, no humidity and a pleasant breeze.  Ah . . . Opera time!

The show tonight was actually a ballet (it was a collection of short pieces, which worked wonderfully for the kids).  We arrived late (mostly because I didn’t check the time and everything else I’d looked at started at 7:30 . . . but today’s was at 6:30 — oops).  There were some chairs that seemed to have been provided for people (not sure, though, because we got there late) and some people had brought their own folding chairs, while many others just sat on the ground.  We found a spot easily, set up our picnic blanket and started to watch.  (We were the only ones with a picnic blanket.  We were the only ones with a picnic dinner.  But, rather than being affronted by our idea, it looked like most of the other viewers wished they’d thought of it.)  We sat, ate our meal, and watched some ballet.

I’d love to say that it was a perfect evening.  I’d love to say that we sat and snuggled with the boys while they were quietly enraptured by the dancing.  I’d love to say that they drifted off to sleep in our arms under a twilit sky while Dan & I cuddled up and enjoyed the rest of the show.

That isn’t how it went.  (But isn’t it a nice story?)

Instead, we wrestled with the boys (Mom and Dad are sitting down!  Let’s jump on them!), chased Liam around the square, shushed both of them (a lot) and doled out several, “If you can’t behave then we won’t get ice cream on the way home!”  But . . . seriously . . . it was great.

We stayed a little over an hour (including a convenient intermission which allowed the boys to run around and let off some steam).  We did get to snuggle the boys (between being jumped on).  We clapped together for the dancers (we were the only ones — since we were outside, and they were inside, they couldn’t hear us, but I figured it was good practice).  And, we were treated to A LOT of dancing from both boys, inspired by what they were watching.  (And, as it turns out, we did get to have ice cream on the way home.)

It was really fun, and pretty easy.  The boys enjoyed themselves more than I thought they would, and no one was particularly bothered when they did act up a little.  We were on the same block as one of the busiest streets in Vienna, so Liam’s noises were not worse than the regular traffic noise, and since the screen is way up high, the boys aren’t big enough to block anyone’s view.  (We also had the sense to sit kind of off to the side, so we weren’t in the way of the people who had cared enough to actually be on time.)

It was hard, though.  There was nothing relaxing about it, for Dan & I.  I’m glad we did it anyway.  We took our kids to see a ballet at the Vienna Opera House (albeit outside) and lived to tell the tale.  In fact, we had a great (if intense) evening.  My boys, at 1 and 3, have seen and enjoyed ballet.  I call that a win.