Привет кошка

Posted on May 13, 2014 by admin

Until earlier today, I had a little footnote on my main page saying that I’d never gotten anything in exchange for blogging about it. This is a pretty common practice amongst bloggers — to receive something (for free, or for reduced cost) in exchange for reviewing a product or experience. I don’t have anything against the practice, I’d just never been asked to do something like that, and I wanted to be very clear that all of my opinions expressed here are entirely my own. Well, my opinions are still my own, but I had to delete that little disclaimer, because I was just recently asked to review a product in exchange for receiving it for free. Yesterday, we received a free copy of Dino Lingo’s language learning materials for kids. I’m pretty excited about it, and so are the boys. (I still promise to be entirely honest about our experience with it, even though we got it for free.)

We had a choice of languages and opted … for Russian. After discussing it with Kathryn from Dino Lingo, we decided to go with something we had no background in at all. (The program is meant for true beginners, so the boys have enough German, and probably enough Spanish, to be a bit too advanced to get a good sense for how well the program works for beginners.) I wanted to choose something that we didn’t already know but which we might get some use out of here or in our travels. Russian is the language the kids most wish they spoke a little of on the playground — we often meet Russian speaking children and can’t communicate with them at all. I thought maybe this way, we could learn a little and actually use it.

Anyway, I’ll write a real review of the product and our experience with it after we’ve had a chance to use it for more than a day. But I will say that the boys are already having a great time with it … and we’re all learning something. I think we’ve watched the first DVD through 5 or 6 times already, and the boys have having fun practicing their colors, numbers and animals (we’ve been pleasantly surprised to find out that there is a bit of overlap between German and Russian, and even between English and Russian — I feel like “giraffe” and “zebra” end up the same in almost every language). We went to bed last night all repeating one new phrase over and over again — “Привет кошка” (sounds like “Privet koshka”) — which basically means, “Hi, cat!” It’s not much, but it’s more Russian than I could speak this time yesterday (and it’s more than I knew how to say in German when I first moved here)!

What are THOSE?!?

Posted on May 12, 2014 by admin

Raising kids abroad is full of funny experiences. There are so many ways in which their world view and mine differ fundamentally, because they are growing up in a different time, country and culture than I did. And so many times, I don’t even realize how differently we see things until one of them points it out. Language is one of the places that this is the most obvious — just this morning on the way to school, Liam noticed that “someone dropped their ‘schnuller’ on the ground”. Yes, they had — a ‘schnuller’ is a pacifier. Although, back when he was using them, we called them pacifiers or binkies, but he doesn’t remember that. He knows the word from the kids at school who still have them, and it’s become his only word for it. When Benjamin asked what Liam had said, I responded with, “Someone dropped their pacifier” and Liam got very angry at me for telling Benjamin the wrong thing. He literally has no idea what “pacifier” means. That kind of thing happens every so often — I say something, and they respond with a blank stare while I rewind what I said in my head and realize that I just used an English word for something we usually say in German (like pacifier, fire department, grocery store or playground). We’re developing quite the odd little Germenglish patois around here.

But there are other funny ways that the cultural divide within my own house comes out. Just before Easter, I was preparing eggs to dye. Then we were interrupted by calamity, which is why I forgot to tell this particular story back then. But once everything calmed down and we got ready to color our eggs, the boys happily climbed up to the table, took one look at the cartons of eggs I had boiled for them, and looked at me in disgust and surprise.

“WHAT are THOSE?!?” asked Benjamin.

“They’re eggs.”

“But . . . why are they WHITE?”

Yep, although I was completely unaware of it, it seems that my kids have been 3+ years without seeing a white egg. This was the first year that we found white eggs available at the supermarket, special for coloring for Easter. (It’s the only time I’ve ever seen them, and they no longer have any — it really was just for Easter.) I was so excited to buy them, because I’d always wanted to find white eggs to dye for Easter, but (as Benjamin demonstrated) white eggs are not the norm here.

And thus, I discovered another way in which I am raising poor, confused American-Austrian children who didn’t know that eggs come in white.

Things you never thought you’d say 3

Posted on May 10, 2014 by admin

I haven’t done one of these in a while, so today, in honor of Mother’s Day, I present another installment of “Things I never thought I’d say.” Because motherhood is full of surprises and unexpected circumstances!

Every one of these things I’ve said, out loud, at some point over the past few months:

No children in the luggage rack. You can go in time out on the top of a mountain, too. Take your feet off the wall. Standard karate doesn’t actually have lasers. No missile launchers while snuggling. Keep your spaghetti to yourself. No grabbing your brother’s bum! We don’t point death rays at people. We’re not going to put pretzels into the radiator. No driving on the walls. Guys, faces off the television. Stop, stop, stop — you’re sitting on your pizza! Don’t axe the dog! No, ladybugs don’t usually drive. Stop chewing on the furniture. Bees don’t usually travel by bus. You can’t actually get into the popcorn bowl. Use the fork, Benjamin. Please get down from the table before removing your clothes. Not even Batman gets to jump on the couch! Stop chewing on your pants! Stop hitting your brother in the head with that quesadilla! It’s nap time — you can get up and fight about the train later. We don’t put things that we plan to eat between our toes. Anything that requires you to say “watch this” first is probably not something you should be doing when you’re sick. Stop chewing on your pants (said that one a second time in the past few months, so I’m including it again). Stop putting your underwear on your face.

Until next time . . .

The Wild, Hairy Haggises and the Hogwarts Express

Posted on May 9, 2014 by admin

And now another installment in my much overdue recounting of our vacation to the UK last summer . . .

Our first day through Scotland last August was a little insane. We took a 2-3 hour drive and made it into an 8 hour drive. We drove through or stopped by at least a half dozen places I’d like to go back and see again. But we were only just beginning.

My main reason for wanting to come to that particular piece of Scotland, both on this trip and on our previous one (where it didn’t work out) was Harry Potter. Or, more specifically, the Hogwarts Express. Harry’s journey to Hogwarts in the movies was mostly filmed along an actual train line in western Scotland. It’s possible to actually ride a steam train along the route they used for filming, but we knew we’d want to explore along the way, so we drove the (theoretical) hour each way. (Of course, it took us much longer, and we thoroughly enjoyed it!)

We started our day with a trip to the grocery store to pick out a picnic lunch. (Wherever in the world we are, grocery shopping is always an adventure.) Once we had managed that, we got on our way. From the very beginning of the journey, we’d catch snips of views and vistas that were familiar from the movies, but a lot of the scenery was obscured by trees. No worries, it was still beautiful. Our first real stop along the way was one of the most iconic images from the movies — the Glenfinnan Viaduct. It was pretty cool to stop and see it, and a nice piece of our ongoing collection of visits to Harry Potter places.

We walked around a bit, and the boys really wanted to cross the road to check out the loch across the way. While Dan and the kids began their explorations, I explored the gift shop. I’d been looking for something small, kid-friendly and iconic to get them as souvenirs, and I found exactly what I was looking for: the “Wild, Hairy Haggis“.

Most people have heard of the traditional Scottish dish called haggis (which Dan tried on this trip and which I tasted … REALLY not my thing) but the Haggis creature is not as well known (mostly because it’s entirely made up). They are sweet little stuffed animals with a cute story, so I got one for each of the boys. It was love at first sight, and our new Haggises were excellent companions for the rest of our trip, immediately befriending Ignis, who was also journeying with us. (Dragons feel very much at home in Scotland, as it turns out.)

I am so glad that the boys were dying to play at the loch, because it would up being not only one of the most beautiful spots we visited in all of Scotland (which is truly saying something) but also another staple from the Harry Potter movies — this lake, Loch Shiel, across from Glenfinnan Viaduct, is known as the Black Lake at the foot of Hogwarts Castle in the movies. And it was absolutely stunning. (I love Scotland.)

As we trekked on, we again found many places worth stopping for a look. (Did I mention that I love Scotland?) And we caught many views of the train line we were following. The further north we got, the more rugged, and the more coastal, things became. We eventually started looking for a place to picnic, and found a beach on a river that looked public and promising. We ate our sandwiches and played in the sand. B bravely waded into the frigid (even in August) water. We watched people play with their dogs and saw a big group of kayakers arrive along the beach. We got a bit chilled and very sandy, but it was a great picnic.

We continued on to our “destination” (pretty much as far as you can go in that direction without catching the ferry to the Isle of Skye, which, incidentally, I wish we’d done) — Mallaig, a tiny fishing town, and the farthest north I’ve ever been in my life. We stopped for an ice cream and then turned around to repeat the beautiful journey back in the other direction. It was another amazing, beautiful day in a stunningly gorgeous place. We chose this place to see where the Hogwarts Express made its trip, but that had almost nothing to do with how much we loved our time there.

Stadtwanderweg 1

Posted on May 7, 2014 by admin

I’d been out there before, several times. Enough that I no longer really remember the chronology. I know that the first time, I couldn’t quite get from where I started to the trail with the stroller, so I spent an hour or so trying to find a way around. And then when I finally figured it out, it was time to go back home again. I know I went out there at least once when Jo was with us. And I’m pretty sure I’ve been at least one other time, but that’s where my memory is less clear. I could have sworn I’d been out there at least once with Dan and both of the kids, but he says he’d never been before. I’m not sure. But I do know that each of the times I’ve been before I’ve basically walked back and forth over the same mile of the 7 mile loop. I’ve walked just far enough to arrive at the first of the vineyards, and then turned around. Each successive time, I’ve actually made it one vineyard further along the trail before I turned around, but I’ve never made it very far.

I love to walk and to hike. I love to explore and to see a place on foot. (On horseback is even better, but I haven’t had that chance for a few years now.) It’s truly something I enjoy. And Vienna understands me. The city has 11 signed and maintained hiking/walking trails throughout the most scenic parts of the city. Each is 6-10 miles long, none is completely stroller friendly, and since they are in scenic places, they also tend towards being quite isolated, so I’ve never gone far on one alone. So, though these are exactly the kind of thing I’d love to explore, we’ve only done little pieces of 3 of the trails.

This past Sunday was my turn to choose a family activity, so I decided to try for another piece of the Stadtwanderweg 1 (city hiking trail 1) — the one I’ve visited most often. I had no illusions that we’d complete the whole thing, as it’s about 7 miles long. The purpose wasn’t to complete the loop, but to go further than I had before. We put on our sunscreen and our sturdy shoes, packed a picnic and headed out.

It was a lovely walk, with (as I’d seen before) some lovely views of the vineyards of Grinzing. The kids were fascinated, at first, by every flower and bug, but after the first mile they became fixated on lunch instead (though it wasn’t yet 11). It turns out that the section of trail I had chosen was almost entirely uphill, unfortunately. We hiked a couple of miles before finding a suitable picnic spot, and the tentative plan was to turn around after that and head home. I had covered almost a mile of new trail, the kids were happy to have had a picnic, and we all still had a bit of energy left.

Looking up the bus routes on my phone, though, we realized that it would be a much shorter, though more uphill, walk to the bus to continue along the trail. And it also looked like there might be a restaurant up ahead, which might serve the ice cream Liam was really hoping for. So we continued. And though the walk got lovelier, and very shaded as we went truly into the woods (except for one section where there had been some logging), it also got steeper and rougher. Less than an hour later, hot and grouchy, we did eventually pop out of the woods. We found ourselves right at a bus stop (closer than the one on my map) AND at the foot of a driveway to a restaurant which served ice cream. So, after our 4.3 mile trek, and over 2 hours of walking, we headed home. It was a tough adventure, but a good one.

And now, for next time, we know exactly which bus stop to head for in order to pick up the trail for the next (almost entirely downhill) section. We may complete the first trail one day after all.

(As a note, though we did fine, I wouldn’t really recommend this part of the trail — clockwise around from Nußdorf to Sulzwiese — to families with small kids unless you have a very sturdy stroller or are prepared to carry the kids a lot. We carried our boys most of the way. It’s not an unpleasant walk at all, but it is long and truly almost entirely uphill.)

Bus problems

Posted on May 6, 2014 by admin

Generally, public transportation in Vienna is functional and pleasant. Everything runs mostly on time, and is quite clean. People usually board and disembark in an orderly fashion, vocal volume is low, people (more or less) make way for the elderly and disabled, and strollers are managed without too much trouble. We don’t have a car, and we’ve gotten around Vienna (and beyond) very well using public transport these past 3 years. If you can think of a piece of common sense when it comes to public transportation, it probably happens here (except that Austrians don’t queue properly, ever, and many will go out of their way to wait for an elevator).

Sure, there are always exceptions — groups of rowdy teenagers, drunk people, self-absorbed individuals. But Austrians are a reliably orderly lot in general.

But the bus line I use to take the boys to school in the morning is a complete anomaly. I’ve come to the conclusion that is the most dysfunctional piece of all of Vienna’s public transportation system. The problem has nothing to do with the route itself, but with the passengers. The regularity with which we encounter uncharacteristic dysfunction is kind of shocking. There was the old lady who told me off for not making a space available for her (I was standing, my boys were sitting, the seats across from and behind us were free, but she wanted THAT ONE … but hadn’t asked), the time a mother left her unsecured stroller rolling around the center aisle of the bus while she looked on (no kid inside, thankfully) and the grown woman who pushed past Liam (coming close to knocking him down) to get the seat she wanted. Every day, it’s a struggle to get off the bus while people refuse to make way and/or push past departing people to get in first. Getting a stroller off is next to impossible with people being so impatient that they have to get on before you get it off. (We’ve basically abandoned the idea of taking the stroller at all when we go to school.) And, in the past week, two different people have actually sat down in Benjamin’s seat with him. (I know he’s pretty small, but WHAT?!?)

You might think, from these descriptions, that this is a massively crowded bus line. It’s not. Although there are times that we’re packed in like sardines, the VAST majority of the time (including all of the specific incidents I mentioned) the bus is about half full or less.

For anyone local, the line is the 92A between Donaustadtbrücke and Kaisermühlen. For anyone not local, this is not the city center, but the mostly residential outer section of Vienna. I’ve been pondering the phenomenon of horrible behavior on this line, and I was perplexed. No idea why it should be so bad.

My thought, all along, has been that people must just be markedly more rude during the morning rush hour. But that just hasn’t been my experience when I travel in other parts of Vienna during rush hour. After considering it for a while, and observing this behavior for almost 3 years now, I have come to an embarrassing conclusion: I think it’s us. Not “us” our family, but “us” the Americans, or at least the foreigners. This bus line, just 2 miles and 10 stops long, serves English-speaking Webster University (which seems to host a lot of rowdy and self-involved American teenagers and young adults) and the UN (which seems to host a lot of “important”, “busy” and hurried adults from around the world . . . including a lot of people that I know and like — I’m not saying it’s everyone). A really high number of people foreign to Vienna travel through this part of the city every day. So I wonder if we’ve broken the system. I wonder if we outsiders have introduced so much impatience, dysfunction and selfishness into the system that we’ve brought out the inner “man for himself” in even the orderly, patient, local Austrians who use that line to commute every day.

Or maybe not. Maybe it’s some other kind of bad luck that has turned that bus line into the “Lord of the Flies” of the Viennese public transportation system.

Bad luck

Posted on May 5, 2014 by admin

I’ve never heard anything like it. There was a loud pop and the shatter of breaking glass, a moment of stillness, and then a second, floor-shaking, monumental crash that followed. I had no idea what it was, but I didn’t look around. We were all in the living room. I ran to the kids and wrapped them in my arms. Whatever it had been, they were safer right where they were than anywhere else.

As it turns out, the massive, gilt-wood framed mirror that hung in our dining room had fallen. There was glass everywhere. Our dining room floor was covered in jagged tiny pieces. It was a complete mess.

This doesn’t quite do it justice. We’d already started cleaning at this point (the vase was mostly disposed of, for example). It really doesn’t look quite right in the pictures.

The kids did great. I closed them in the living room, put on the TV, attempted to impress upon them how vital it was that they not leave the room, and went to assist Dan with the cleanup. It’s one of those jobs where there is no good place to start. You just have to start picking at the edges and hope that it gets less overwhelming as you progress (which it did). The mirror had fallen on a vase (a gift from my sister) which had been holding our Osterbaum, the boys’ Easter baskets, and a pile of papers, drawings and unopened mail that had not been sorted in much too long. The vase shattering under the weight of the falling 40-50 lb mirror was the first sound we had heard. Then all of that tipped onto the parquet floor which, though vacuumed earlier in the day, had toys strewn on it. What a mess.

To my great and pleasant surprise, the actual Easter baskets survived, even though they, too, must have caught part of the weight of the mirror directly (points to Pottery Barn for sturdiness). The eggs (all of the real ones and several of the plastic ones) and candy were mostly a loss (poor chocolate bunnies) and at least one of the fluffy chicks inhabiting a basket was beheaded. The beautiful, fancy, hand-painted Austrian Easter eggs we’ve collected since our arrival here were mostly destroyed. A few were basically vaporized — only spots of sparkly dust and a few sad, squished ribbons remained. Most were just horribly broken. Three were damaged but sound enough to keep. I kept pieces of 3 others that were intact enough to hang again … more or less.

I dealt with the Easter carnage while Dan broke down the remains of the frame and starting dealing with the broken glass. There was SO MUCH glass. There were big, jagged triangles and long vicious-looking shards, plus all of the teeny, tiny bits and the pieces that had become little more than dust. (Plus a lot of glitter from the destroyed eggs — and it’s very hard to tell glass dust from glitter.) It took 2 hours, but we got everything cleaned up. The kids patiently watched TV while we worked. Our floor hasn’t been this clean in a while.

As it turns out, that huge, heavy, ornate mirror was hung with TWINE, which apparently broke. It was just a question of time. I’m kind of horrified at the way it was hung — we’d never looked at it, because it was MASSIVE, and it came with the apartment and had hung there for years without event. We completely took it for granted.

We were so lucky. We were running late, but we should have been eating dinner, or at least setting the table, at the time that it fell. We weren’t. We were all hanging out in the living room. But the kids play in the spot where it fell, all the time. Bailey lays there, often. We walk back and forth past that spot dozens of times every day. It is, quite literally, in one of the highest traffic spots in our whole house. We are so lucky that no one was seriously hurt (or worse). As it was, it was a huge pain, and a complete disruption to our typical Saturday evening, but no permanent damage was done, except to the mirror and some eggs (which I will miss). Dan even managed to avoid injuring himself with the glass, which is beyond impressive to me. All is well, we are all safe. We’re down one huge mirror, but I’m just so, so glad that it wasn’t a much more awful story to tell.

Never to be seen again

Posted on April 30, 2014 by admin

A few weeks ago, I said I was going to spend a day each week catching up on old things I meant to write but never did. I haven’t. But today I shall! I have a ton of notes and memories jotted down from our summer trip to the UK last year. Already, some of the details are starting to fade, which makes writing about it daunting … but I also know that my memory is only going to get worse as time goes on, so I’d better get on with it!

When last I wrote about our trip to England, I was explaining about how welcome we all feel when we visit our favorite place in the Lake District. It’s beautiful and charming with gracious hosts, fantastic food and stunning views. Plus, it’s in at least one of Beatrix Potter’s stories, so it’s a definite win across the board. (Go there and stay. Eat scones. You’re welcome.)

After a few days, though, our lovely time in the Lake District was at and end. We took a short journey up to the unintelligible city of Glasgow (seriously, I had no idea what anyone was saying — I do better in Austria). Glasgow was just an overnight stop on our way further into Scotland, though.

On our last trip, the Scotland piece of our journey got seriously truncated because first B, and then Liam, got sick. So last time, instead of venturing up into the Highlands, we stopped at Lockerbie (which I think may actually be the first exit off the highway upon entering Scotland) and, from there only got as far as Edinburgh, once we were all (mostly) feeling better. This time, I was absolutely set on seeing more of Scotland … and I was in no way disappointed.

Our plan for that first day was to journey from Glasgow up to Fort William in the Western Highlands. It SHOULD have been a 2-3 hour drive plus stops for lunch, leg stretching and appreciating the scenery. It took us over 8. Scotland is amazing and beautiful and we could not resist stopping constantly and taking tons of “optional” detours.

We played at a playground next to Loch Lomond. We stopped and got suddenly and thoroughly drenched at the “Rest and Be Thankful” pass (we had hot chocolate there, too). We drove alongside the ocean to Inveraray where we had lunch and played on the slippery shore of the sea (take a look at a map … it was NOT at all “on the way”). We spent 10 miles driving through beautiful and rugged Scottish countryside along a raging whitewater river on a single lane gravel road. (The GPS sent us that way, and every time we had to pass another car I was sure we were about to end up IN the raging river. I was also absolutely sure we were going to end up as one of those apocryphal stories about “the dumb and fatal things people do because their SatNav says to”. But we didn’t and it was beautiful. I’m glad Dan made the decision to continue on that way . . . against my objections. It sure beat the motorway!) We took an essential potty break (a new, but important part of travel for us — on our last road trip, it was just the adults using the bathrooms, so there were many fewer bathroom stops) at the Glencoe Mountain Resort, which feels like it actually might be on another planet, at the top of the world, or perhaps straight from the Hobbit.

Scotland — you are beautiful. The parts of Scotland that we saw (and this was all just our first day!) were stunning, vast, and wildly beautiful. I don’t know exactly what I expected Scotland to be like, but it wasn’t whatever I expected. It’s really … big … open … mountainous … and it’s also mostly by the sea. It is not just like Ireland, nor like England. It is wonderful in its own right.

And that is why it took us almost 4 times as long as it was supposed to — because we fell in love and could not tear ourselves away. August 3, 2013 was the day I fell in love with Scotland. It was worth every single minute of that 8 hour “2 hour drive”, and I would do it all again, anytime. (Though maybe not in the winter, because those roads were treacherous enough in summer!)

Kindergarten or first grade?

Posted on April 29, 2014 by admin

We didn’t expect to be here so long. We thought that by now, we’d be home already, or at least headed home. Consequently, all of our plans for “real” school for the kids started with “Well, we’ll be home by then …”

When we left the US, our plan was to be in Austria for 1-2 years. We’ve now been here more than 3, and although we’re psychologically ready to move home, we don’t yet have the opportunity to do so. Last year, when we were going through the process of deciding whether to stay for this third year, the boys’ educational experience factored heavily. I liked the idea if B completing preschool (“Kindergarten”, here) with his friends, and I loved the idea of Liam getting to join him at that school for a year. The fact that this year of preschool, for both boys, would be free to us only heightened its appeal. Their opportunity for school this past year is a large part of why we’re here now. It was too good to pass up, and I feel like it was definitely the right decision. B has really flourished at school this year, found his confidence, become nearly fluent in German and begun to discover which bits of school most ignite his enthusiasm for learning. Liam has had a fantastic first experience with school, getting to follow in B’s footsteps and hold his hand along the way.

It’s good that we stayed. I’m glad we did.

But our plan has ALWAYS been to have B home before “real” school started. This year of school here, called “Vorschule”, is like half-day US kindergarten. I had hoped to enroll him in full-day kindergarten in the US next fall, giving him a year to adjust to full-day school and to recover from our relocation. Besides, he’d get to start right along with his classmates and be one of the oldest in his class instead of one of the youngest (he has a mid-July birthday). So even though he’s definitely bright enough to handle first grade, I was thinking that kindergarten in the US would be right for him next year, and I was hoping that it would be easy to set that up.

But we aren’t in the US. And however much we miss everyone, we realized a few months ago that without having found work in the US for Dan, we might be staying here a bit longer. And if we might find ourselves still here this coming August, we need to have a plan for school next year for B. (Liam can stay right where he is, thankfully, because I think we got the kids into one of the best preschools in Vienna, entirely by good luck.)

When we realized we needed a plan for the fall, we also realized we were entirely behind. Parents of some of B’s friends had turned in applications to private schools in Vienna as early as last September. We’d been assuming that we didn’t need to, because we expected that we’d already be home … so we hadn’t done anything. Not a thing. We didn’t even know which school we wanted him to attend.

We’re fortunate to have several good options to choose from. The automatic path would be for B to go from his Viennese preschool straight into first grade in a Viennese primary school. The instruction would be entirely in German, and, following that path, he would have quickly become completely fluent and bilingual. The state schools are free (or maybe very nearly so) but, attractive as all of that is, we opted against this, except as a fallback plan. Our sole objection was a big one — *our* German is insufficient to keep us abreast of the goings on, even at the preschool. As B advances in his education, I don’t want to be entirely shut out of the process. Besides, if our eventual plan is to return to the US and enroll him in school there, I think he might get a stronger base for that by learning in English. I worry a bit that the holes in his ability to understand or communicate in German might prevent him from learning as much as he could, or could lead to frustration as he moves forward.

That decision narrowed our options to the two major English-speaking international schools in Vienna (yep, two) — the Vienna International School and the American International School.

All of this was really weird to me. First, I honestly never imagined that either of the kids would attend elementary school outside of the US. It was part of our fundamental thinking from the very beginning of deciding to live abroad — that we were going with enough time to come back before elementary school. It was part of the PLAN (and oh, how I love a plan)! Secondly, I absolutely never envisioned my kids attending private school at all. I was fortunate enough to grow up in an area with some of the best public schools in the US, and, before we moved, we were raising our kids in an area with an equally impressive public school system. Private school was never really on my radar. And then, we moved here, and the Vienna public preschool that we got our kids into is amazing. I just never considered private school. So I’ve been left to ponder, whether I am really prepared to send my child, who will be just barely 6 years old, to a private school that costs nearly as much per year as college? (Fortunately for us, the IAEA reimburses most of the expense.) It’s not at all something I ever imagined we’d be doing. Yet here we are.

As I’ve said, we were way behind in the process, and initially Benjamin was wait-listed for next year. A few weeks ago, though, we heard he’d gotten a place for next year for first grade. And we are beyond thrilled about it. I truly believe that it’s the right place for him if we’re in the “still in Vienna” situation.

Through the entire admissions process, it was simply assumed that he’d attend first grade next year, based on his age and the fact that we and his teachers raised no concerns that would preclude his placement in first grade. After all, if he were going to Austrian school next year, he’d go to first grade, and other than his German (which isn’t an issue in an English-speaking school) he’s at a comparable academic, intellectual and emotional level to his peers. So, first grade.

But, after the admissions hurdle was cleared, I started really thinking about that for the first time — was first grade really the right place for him next year? Is he ready to go from a half-day Vorschule program to full day first grade? The kids who are currently attending kindergarten at the international school (the kids who would be his classmates next year) are in full day kindergarten now, but he’s not. He’ll be one of the youngest and smallest in his class, and, if he’s in first grade, then at whatever point in the next 12 months we get the chance to move back home (Dan’s contract expires next April, so it’ll happen sometime this year) he’ll have to transition from first grade at the international school to first grade in the US. Wouldn’t that whole transition, which already means 2 new schools in 1 year, be a whole lot easier done in kindergarten than in first grade? Add to that the fact that B’s best friend, who will also be attending the same school next year, will be in kindergarten next year (he has a November birthday, so his placement in kindergarten was as automatic as B’s was into first grade). I think it really might be nice for him to make the switch with a friend or two.

These are the questions that I’ve been running around in my head for the past few weeks.

On the other hand . . . do I really want to be one of THOSE parents? Do I really want to start hovering before my poor kid has even gotten hs foot in the door? I mean, how typically American can I be? Besides, he’s a bright kid, and he might be bored in kindergarten. Maybe it’s time for him to be challenged a little more. Am I really prepared to start meddling ALREADY?

Apparently I am. We contacted the admissions counselor at the school and asked whether they would consider switching B’s placement for next year to kindergarten. And I feel good about the decision. I do think I’m being a bit meddling and overbearing. But I also think it’s the right thing for him (I only wish I’d thought of it before we’d gone through the admissions process, because I get the impression it would have been a non-issue if I’d raised it at the beginning).

We don’t know their decision yet. There’s a meeting of the admissions board next week, and they’re going to discuss it then. I don’t know if this is a formality or not. I have no sense of which way the decision is going to go. But we’ve decided we’re going to fully and happily accept whatever they decide. We wholeheartedly feel that this school IS the right place for him for next year (if we’re here), and we trust their judgement. They do this all the time. This school, perhaps more than any other, is thoroughly experienced and well prepared to place a child in the right spot. They are used to assimilating kids from all over the world and a wide variety of educational backgrounds, from the US and Japan, from Finland and Kenya. They’re used to kids who speak different languages, who have only been home-schooled previously, kids with different learning challenges, and kids who have collected pieces of education in a variety of countries around the world. We are going to trust their decision, and whatever they choose, we’ll go with it.

Student Humans

Posted on April 28, 2014 by admin

I’ve often seen service dogs, or dogs that are in training, wearing little vests that tell people they encounter what they’re up to. They ask people not to pet them, or to give them some space, or other things that save their handlers having to make explanations 20 times a day about why you can’t pet their dog, or why they are, in fact, allowed to take their dog into a place that otherwise wouldn’t allow them. They’re kind of like the “Student Driver” signs on cars — they let everyone know that the erratic driving they might witness is for a good reason and they might want to put their patient pants on for 5 minutes. They’re different ways of kindly saying, “Important stuff is happening here. Try not to freak out.”

I’m thinking of inventing the same thing for my kids. Little vests that they could wear which would remind people, “I’m learning to be a grown up human, but I haven’t finished my training yet. Please be patient with me.” Or, “I’m just being a kid, please leave me be.” Because I think we all forget. I think we spend a lot of effort trying to get our kids to “behave” or “quiet down” or “settle down”, when they’re just being kids. Don’t get me wrong — part of learning to be a grown up human includes practicing sitting still on the bus, waiting patiently in line and being quiet in a restaurant. They should be working on those things. But they’re just practicing and learning, and we adults, I think sometimes we forget.

So I think I’ll invent little vests, or maybe hats, that remind the people they encounter to remember that they need a little more space, a little more patience, and sometimes some special consideration. I could use the reminder, too, since my kids hear “Hush!”, and “Sit still!” more from me than from the rest of the world combined.

A Mommy Abroad

Our big adventure, as a family of three.