I may actually be Supermom

Posted on July 14, 2011 by admin

Oh, I am tired. What a day. It was a day full of very nice things, but I am worn out, and I have given of myself to a fault . . . which is not new, but the grace with which I did it definitely is.

The first part of my day was normal: feed kids, change diapers, try to make naps happen, play games, clean up, help make more messes, overfill the washing machine, clean the soapy water off the floor, keep the dog from eating B’s snack. Normal Thursday.

Then I took the boys to the park with a friend who has two kids (one a few years older than B, one Liam’s age). Oh my. I’ve taken B and Liam to the park together before, on my own, but the addition of other children that they know added an element of chaos that I was not expecting. Liam is also big enough now to require being entertained in his own right (I can’t just stick him in the stroller the whole time). It went just fine, but it really wore me out. B was trying to keep up with his older friend, and they got in to all kinds of shenanigans together (I’m not sure B’s shoes will be dry for tomorrow) and he learned important lessons (i.e, if you let go of the chains on the big-kid swings, gravity takes over in short order). And Liam had a lot of fun trying to keep up with B (thank goodness he can’t walk yet).

Then we all went to dinner (my friend and her husband, their two kids, plus all of us Calles), and halfway through Dan gets a call from his uncle. Who is here. To see us. (This is the first we’re hearing about it.) We knew he was in Austria, but not having been able to coordinate a visit with him before he left, we figured we wouldn’t see him at all. Surprise! So, Dan goes out of the restaurant, leaving me with the boys, to figure out a way to rendezvous with his uncle, who does not have a working phone and who is planning to drive back into Vienna to see us immediately. “Back” because he drove into Vienna earlier today to see us, showed up at our door, and when no one was home (see park story, above) decided to walk around Vienna in the hopes that he might run into us. When that didn’t work, he drove back OUT of Vienna, borrowed a phone from someone and called Dan.

Dan was in and out of the restaurant for the rest of the meal, looking for his uncle, who is planning to meet us at the restaurant. His uncle shows up just as we’re leaving, and we say goodbye to our friends and go back to our place. We show him around and visit for a few minutes, but then I have to go put both kids in the bath (together, which I haven’t done before) because Dan has a Skype appointment.

So, we make plans to meet up with his uncle tomorrow. And then I put the boys in the bath, get them both clean, get them both out, get them both dressed, get puked on by Liam, get him clean and dressed again, get Benjamin a bottle, feed Liam, put Liam down, get Liam back up and then get him back to sleep. (At which point, Dan joined me to brush Benjamin’s teeth, but then Benjamin asked that I read him his story before bed, and he’s so sweet, and we got so little one-on-one time today that I said yes.)

I got a little grumpy with Benjamin at one point in the bath when he was splashing Liam and wouldn’t listen to me and stop, but otherwise, I did all of this and didn’t even freak out. I’m not even mad or frustrated with Dan. (Really.) I think I may qualify for sainthood. I haven’t tried walking on water recently, but maybe I should give it a shot. (Or maybe I should wait and see how tomorrow goes, first.)

Out of rhythm

Posted on July 10, 2011 by admin

Having house guests can be stressful. It isn’t anyone’s fault — it’s just that adding on to an already busy “to do” list, while disrupting the rhythm and schedule of life, can cause chaos. We’ve just had 10 days of house guests. Our schedule was a disaster, the boundaries and rules with the kids were bent all over the place, we all shared a bathroom, we gave up our bedroom and slept in the living room, we stayed up too late every night. I’m really glad they came to see us, but we are all exhausted now.

In addition to the logistics, it’s hard to live with anyone for 10 days. I don’t think 10 consecutive days have ever passed between Dan & I where one of us hasn’t gotten a little frustrated, irritable or snippy with the other. In a marriage, you learn which battles to fight and which to leave, and you develop a give and take of how to handle these routine frustrations. With guests, it’s harder. There is, of course, still plenty of reason to get frustrated, irritable or snippy with each other, but you try really, really, really hard not to. It’s rude, it seems petty (especially when you’re only spending a few days with each other), the damage done is disproportionally severe when compared to the impact of whatever little irritation caused the situation in the first place and, of course, you’re trying to be on your best behavior. (I have a tendency to be irritable, especially when I’m stressed out — which is often — so this kind of “letting go” of little things is something I’ve been working on in myself for years.)

Our guests left this afternoon, after 10 days of, truly, a very nice visit. But now, we’re all exhausted, and we’re out of sync with the way we usually do things. Since they left (about 8 hours ago) Dan & I have snapped at each other at least twice, Benjamin has been in “time out” twice (up until today he had been in time out only twice since we’ve been in Austria), Dan has slammed a door, I’ve slapped my hand on the kitchen counter in frustration (ouch), Benjamin is currently crying in his room because he doesn’t want to go to sleep, Liam took three tries to get down to bed and he was even tricky to feed at dinner. Basically, we’re a mess. We’re trying to get back to normal, but we’re tired and we’re all at our limits, so we take it out on each other, a little bit, which I wish I could prevent.

Although this all sounds awful, I actually think we’re handling this level of stress better than we ever have before. Our moments of frustration have been fleeting. Benjamin sat quietly in his time outs and went right back to being his happy, playful (and mischievous!) self. Liam is now sleeping peacefully . . . and I think Benjamin may be (finally) too. We’re still tired. I have a mountain of laundry to do (including the sheets for our bed, which are currently wet in the drier . . . sigh) and tomorrow, life goes back to normal.

Date night

Posted on July 8, 2011 by admin

After being here 3 months, Dan & I had our first opportunity to go out, just the two of us, last night. We put the kids in bed, left Dan’s parents in charge and went out on our own.

We went to a cafe near our place, sat, and had a snack. We were only out for an hour, but it was really nice to have a break . . . together.

Life is intense right now, and there has been very little time for anything beyond the bare essentials. Everyone gets fed and cleaned every day — everything else is a bonus. We’re just starting to get organized and relaxed enough for me to take a little (much needed) time for myself every week — time as a couple just hasn’t been in the cards (exacerbated by the fact that we don’t yet have child care here).

As the leader of this parade of craziness, it’s easy to live a lot of my life in a space of organizer/facilitator/dictator with Dan as chief-co-executor of my very well laid plans. That’s great, and we definitely have developed some impressive skills in terms of making things work. But it is good, every so often, to take off my “CEO of the Calle family” hat and just be together. It’s important, at least, that we check in and make sure we still like each other.

So far, so good.

Awkward

Posted on July 7, 2011 by admin

I am not cool. I am not smooth, slick, suave or together. I wish that I was: not like the “cool kids” in high school . . . more like James Bond-ette with a diaper bag. I want to smile at the right times, catch people’s meaning without them having to come right out and say it, always have what I need in my bag, be dressed for the occasion and do it all with a smile and without breaking a sweat. Instead, I’m more likely to accidentally offend someone by laughing at the wrong moment, misinterpret directions and walk through an alarmed fire door and be pooped on by a bird (possibly all in the same afternoon). I don’t know why this is, but it is.

Living abroad has really put me in touch with this part of myself. Only the coolest of the cool could pull this off and look slick at the same time. For me, it just throws my awkwardness into greater focus. The language barrier, the cultural differences, the little idiosyncrasies of the expectations of day to day life — I’m ill equipped to be able to keep up. We all pick up on words and cues and expectations based on experience to help us understand when we’re welcome, liked, understood . . . or not. Everything is different here — I don’t pick up on anything, and even when I understand the words, I’m missing a lot of the meaning.

I took B to the doctor today (a new doctor) to check on a scratch that I thought was getting infected (it wasn’t). The appointment went well, but I sat in the wrong place, tried to leave before she was done, tried to leave without paying and was literally chased out the door by the receptionist who was bidding me farewell (I made eye contact but didn’t say anything on the way out, and I get the impression that was NOT the right thing to do). This is not uncharacteristic of my afternoons in Vienna. And, all of the people I was dealing with today actually spoke English (it’s worse when they don’t).

Being cool is just not in the cards for me. For some people, perhaps it’s easy, but for me to achieve such heights of slickness, I’d either have to devote most of my life to it or be so tightly wound that I’d end up institutionalized in the very near future. There’s no way for me to get there without letting go of things that are more important.

I’m really getting to be ok with it. (It’s a process.) I have a lot going for me, but coolness isn’t on the list. There truly are more important things, and I refuse to sacrifice any of them for the sake of being slick. It’s not cool, but it’s who I am.

Impervious

Posted on July 5, 2011 by admin

It had been about a week since I’d had an hour “off”, so after I got the kids down for their naps today, and after Dan got home (he only worked a half day today to be able to spend extra time with his parents while they’re visiting) I grabbed my book and headed to Starbucks to have lunch all by myself. It’s a good thing for me to do — even just having a little time off from the moment-to-moment demands of being a mom does wonders for my resiliency. I got myself a sandwich and an iced tea, grabbed a seat at the very last outdoor table, and sat down to read.

A few minutes after I sat down, the threatening clouds gave way to a little drizzle and then a decent rain. I scooted my table over a bit to be better covered by the umbrella and continued on with my lunch and my book. Looking around a few minutes later, I realized that the packed outdoor seating area had been deserted by all but me and two others. After a few minutes, the wet and the cold started to bother me a little, and I decided that I really needed a warm cup of coffee. So, I grabbed my wallet, but arranged my book and bag to make it very obvious my seat was still taken — I wanted hot coffee, but not at the expense of my seat.

I went inside to wait in line to order my coffee, looked out the steamy window into the rain at the deserted patio and laughed at myself. In the steady rain, on a chilly afternoon, I decided I needed to save my seat at the outdoor cafe. (In that moment, I failed to realize that just because I enjoyed my arrangement so much did not mean that anyone else would want to be in it. I managed to get my coffee and get back outside without losing my seat, strangely enough.)

Later this afternoon, we all went to the Belvedere Palace to do some sightseeing. It’s one of the places I went with Dan last year when I came to visit — I was amazed by the scale and beauty of the grounds, and that was in February. It was even more magnificent today — the flowers are in bloom, the trees are full and green and all of the fountains were on. It was Benjamin’s first time there, and he loved it. He loves fountains and flowers, and the palace grounds offered a ton of freedom for running and playing. He ran around in circles, ran up a ramp and down the stairs and challenged all of us to races. (I haven’t run so much in years.)

At the end of his exploring, we came upon some fresh puddles from this morning’s rain. He wanted to splash, and he did, with enthusiasm. I explained that his shoes and socks might get wet, and that we still had to go to dinner afterwards. He started with small splashes, but worked his way up until the water was flying and he was getting soaked. At one point, I opened my mouth to tell him I thought he had saturated himself thoroughly enough . . . and then I realized: I spent my lunch sitting outside in the rain. Who am I to tell him to stop splashing because he’s getting too wet? So, I let him splash. (And I give him credit: he didn’t complain once about being wet.)

First prayer

Posted on July 3, 2011 by admin

It was cold here today — not cool, cold. Our high was 14 Celcius, it varied between rainy and drizzly all day, and the wind went from a strong breeze to “Oh dear, what was that?!?” If you had been plopped down in Vienna today, you would absolutely have believed it was April if that’s what you’d been told. (I was thrilled, actually — I think it’s beautiful weather, and a real treat to have in July, especially after the heat we’ve had lately . . . but I think it may have been a bit too much for our fair-weather-dwelling houseguests.)

Today was, however, our first planned day of sightseeing with our visitors. They arrived Friday, we did our “chores” yesterday, and today our plan was to see two of the most essential sights of Vienna: St. Stephen’s and the Hofburg. Well, it rained and it was cold. We went anyway.

We went to St. Stephen’s. We had planned to perhaps do a tour or climb one of the towers, but Dan’s parents weren’t really interesed in the tour and the weather didn’t make the climb in the tower sound too inviting, so we were just going to explore the cathedral on our own. Of course, when we got there, the cathedreal wasn’t available to visit, but we still were able to wander around in the entry area and get to experience the beautiful church a bit.

It is amazing inside. It’s huge, and beautiful, full of statues and stained glass. It smells like incense and it’s just the right amount of dark and mysterious. There are basins of holy water in the entrance and there are prayer candles in the nooks and alcoves — Benjamin was fascinated (as he was the first time we went, on Easter). He really wanted to see the candles, so I took him to look. He asked about them and I did my best to explain. He asked if a prayer was like making a wish, and I told him that it was — that it was making a wish for good things to happen for people that you love, and that you tell it to God so that he can help you make it happen. He wanted to make a wish, so we purchased a candle and lit it. He wished for, “All the people that I love to be happy”. (I am amazed by him — by his kindness and his understanding.)

And then he asked me if he could blow the candle out, and I had to explain the difference between a prayer candle and a birthday candle. He seemed ok with it.

On the way home we walked past the Hofburg, through the Volksgarten, past the Parliament and the Rathaus and back to home, where we stayed for the rest of our rainy and cold afternoon. To me, it was a lovely Sunday, but I’m not sure we did a very good job as hosts and tour guides. That’s ok — we have 7 more days.

Ouch

Posted on June 27, 2011 by admin

Pain is an effective teacher. No matter how many times you are warned that something will hurt, nothing will drive that message home like experiencing it for yourself.

Benjamin got one of those lessons this evening. He reached out a touched a light bulb at the restaurant where we were having dinner. I didn’t see it in time to warn him about this particular one (he climbed up onto the bench seat in the restaurant and the very first thing he did was reach out and touch the light in the shelf behind his seat) but I’ve warned him many, many times about that kind of thing before. (The light bulb was easily within his reach — it is a setup you would probably not see in the States particularly due to the litigation potential in exactly this kind of situation.)

My poor guy. It hurt. He cried. We rinsed it in cold water and put a cold compress on it. I held him all through dinner and the entire way home. He has a blister now, and, of course (good lesson or not) I’m worried about him and I don’t want him to be hurt. We called the doctor and we’re going to see her tomorrow. It’s hard to see him be hurt, but I imagine he’ll be unlikely to repeat this particular mistake again in the future — less likely, evidently, than my repeated warnings caused him to be. If I could magically accept all the pain he will ever experience in his life and suffer it myself, I would gladly do so, but life just doesn’t work that way. Benjamin will have to, eventually, be the one in charge of the decision of whether or not to touch light bulbs, along with so many other things (which will just keep me up all night worrying if I try to create a list).

I know that I can’t protect him from everything. I will continue to do the best that I can, and hope that when something slips through the cracks, that maybe there’s at least a lesson in there somewhere. (I really, really hope there is.)

Anniversary . . . mit kinder

Posted on June 24, 2011 by admin

11 years ago today, Dan & I got married. It really does not feel like it’s been that long, in that I don’t feel like the time Dan & I have been married encompasses nearly 1/3 of my life so far. If I look at what we’ve done in that time, though, I guess it does seem like 11 years.

Many things have changed in that time. Dan & I have each changed (I think, mostly, for the better and more mature), our jobs have changed (at least twice, each), our continent of residence has changed and we’ve had two children (not at all in that order). When we got married, we didn’t even know if we wanted to have kids — neither of us could imagine a time where we would feel like we were grown up, responsible enough or “ready” to have kids. We didn’t think there would ever be a time where we’d want to put our needs, desires and ambitions on the back burner for the sake of being the kind of parents we wanted to be if we ever had kids.

What we didn’t know is that it doesn’t work that way. (How could we know?) I never looked around and said, “Hmm, I think I’d like to radically change my life, my priorities and my goals so that I can have kids.” Instead, I literally sat up in bed one night, in shock at the realization that I didn’t know how to imagine my future without picturing myself as a mommy. It wasn’t a lack of imagination — I could think of things I’d do with my time/money/energy/youth in the event that I didn’t have children. It was realizing that what I wanted for my future was to be a mom . . . and after I realized that, nothing else mattered.

At first, we had plans that involved staying in our careers as dance instructors. We devised complex strategies for childcare, travel, competitions and finances that included being parents and full-time dance instructors. I worked until I was over 38 weeks pregnant, on my feet and in high heels, so that I could insure that my job and income would be secure for me to return to. We had plans to return to our students and to competition. And it all evaporated within the first 12 hours after Benjamin was born.

In that first day, I knew I didn’t want to go back to work at the studio, and I didn’t want to go back to work at all if we could figure out a way to make it happen. I don’t know that Dan & I have ever been so much on the same page about something without needing to talk much about it. We immediately set about making new plans, with new priorities and new goals, for our new lives as parents. We have ended up in places (literally and otherwise) that I never saw coming.

We are more to each other than just the other halves of Benjamin’s and Liam’s parents, but that honestly accounts for most of what our relationship is to one another right now. That’s ok — that’s where our energy needs to be right now. But looking back over the past 11 years, I don’t think I could have chosen a better person to take this particular journey with . . . and I’m as surprised as anyone.

Happy anniversary, Dan. Thank you for being on this grand adventure with me. I love you.

Dream job

Posted on June 23, 2011 by admin

In the morning, I usually wake up to hugs and “Good morning, Mommy — how was your sleep?” from a groggy eyed Benjamin, or to cooing and a snuggle from Liam. As the day goes on, I feed my boys, I change diapers, I enforce nap time. I build roads from blocks for cars to drive on and I play ball in my living room. I try to juggle playing, being in charge, taking care of errands and trying to keep the house at least a little clean (Benjamin helps — really). I run races, put puzzles together, play games on the computer, answer lots of questions, share ice cream and wash sticky faces and fingers. I try to get my kids out so that we can see some of this fantastic city (because I know that all too soon this opportunity will have passed). I give baths, I cuddle, I read stories. The other day, I filled a wading pool using a 32 ounce plastic cup and countless trips back and forth from my kitchen to the terrace. Tonight, Benjamin fell asleep during story time — I looked over, halfway through our second book, and he was out.

This is the best job ever.

It is hard, the hours are endless, I am often exhausted and sometimes pushed past the limits of my strength (mental, physical and emotional), there are no sick days and a break is really hard to come by. But this is exactly the job I want to have. I am so grateful that I get to spend this time with my wonderful kids. I complain about it sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. If I had millions of dollars in the bank, this is exactly what I’d do (although I’d hire someone to make sure the house stays clean). What a great feeling: I get to wake up every morning and do exactly what I would do if money were no object. I love it.

Lippizaner surprise

Posted on June 22, 2011 by admin

We were out, first thing this morning, to pick up some medicine for Liam’s (now infected) eye. It’s rare that I’m up and out with the kids before 9:30/10:00-ish without Dan, but we had been to the apothecary and were done with our errand before 9:00 this morning. We stopped by Benjamin’s favorite fountain, which is right outside the store, and then I asked him (because I had no other immediate plans) what he’d like to do next.

“Ice cream!” Well, I wasn’t sure if you could get ice cream in Vienna at 9:00 a.m. on a Wednesday, but why not give it a try? (It turns out you can’t, although, frustratingly, the shops are open, they just aren’t serving ice cream.) Unsuccessful, but no less enthusiastic, we decided to stop for a coffee (for me) and a cookie (for Benjamin; poor Liam got nothing). It was lovely to be out for a leisurely walk, but the day was already getting hot, so I decided to wander towards home.

On the way, we walked within a block of the stables for the Lippizaner horses at the Spanish Riding School, so I asked Benjamin if he wanted to see the horses or go home, and he wanted to see the horses. He loves to peer through the windows of the stable for a peek of a horse sticking his head out of the stall, or someone doing chores. We were very lucky this morning — they must do most of the cleaning chores in the morning, because there was more activity around the stables than we had ever seen before. Stalls were being mucked, hay was being moved around, the courtyard was being swept, there was a tractor, too! We even saw a horse being taken out of his stall and taken into the interior of the barn.

We stayed for a little while, and then things started to settle down, so we prepared to leave. I’m so glad we didn’t. Just a moment later, Benjamin gasped and pointed, and I turned and looked — the horses were being brought out of their stalls and across the courtyard. They continued through the door to the stable, though the little alcove where we were standing, across the street (where traffic had been halted) and into their performance hall. They passed within a few feet of where we were standing, in a parade. They were all groomed and tacked and ready to perform (or practice, I don’t actually know which). They disappeared into the hall across the street and traffic began again.

This definitely has to go on my list of favorite moments so far in Vienna. I’ve seen the Lippizaners perform (once in the US and once here in Vienna when I came last year to visit Dan) but it was wonderful to have them so close, and more so for it to be such a surprise. They were only there a moment, but there were only a few people standing in the entry to the stable as they came through — it was a very special experience. I don’t know how many days a week this might happen, but I will do my best, in the future, to find myself outside of the door of the stable around 10:00 on Wednesday mornings, at least.

A Mommy Abroad

Our big adventure, as a family of three.

Category Archives: Kids and Parenting