Mother's Day Weekend

Steps at the Albertina painted in honor of the Monet exhibit

I'm sure it is obvious by the number of outdoor play dates last week that the weather had been gorgeous.  None of this take-your-umbrella-with-you stuff.  But, it couldn't last forever.  Saturday was supposed to be rainy, so we took the opportunity to check out the first art museum on our list.  Vienna is awash in museums and art galleries, but we haven't had the cajones to drag our girls to them yet.  Great art might be of interest to mom and dad, but not especially to one particular kid who prefers trouble to culture. 
We savored our lazy Saturday morning before heading out to The Albertina, a former palace that rubs elbows with the Staatsoper and now is host to thousands of great works of art.  We spent almost two hours meandering through the galleries, admiring works by Monet, Edgar Degas, Paul Cézanne, Pablo Picasso (John's favorite), and Toulouse Lautrec (which I enjoyed the most).  Audrey stoically studied paintings from the stroller and I carried Bailey on my front in the ergo carrier.  From there, we whispered about every painting on the wall--and I can tell you, there is no art critic that can do justice to Bailey's interpretation of these great works.  I laughed so much at her exclamations over different artists. 

Outside the Albertina

I was really very proud of my girls; they did wonderfully and I'm glad I feel we can let them tag along on these little excursions.  We let them pick out gifts in the museum shop for being so good--a little dog named Piet and a bunny who was immediately named 'sparkles'.  They played with them as we sat down in a cafe on Annagasse Strasse, coincidentally directly across the apartment we loved in the first district.  The waiter doted on us, referred to the girls as princesses and brought them cushions to sit on.  The girls had schnitzel and I had my first spatzle since I've gotten here.  (how did I miss that!?) We had a lovely lunch with our sweet sleepy girls and stopped to chit chat with an older woman who admired the girls on the way out.  We walked down Kartnerstrasse and popped in a few stores; John bought me a dress for our swanky anniversary dinner we're planning in a few weeks.

I could get used to this.

We let the girls watch a movie when we got home (something they haven't been allowed to do in nearly a week) and then met up with John's friend from work, Carrie for dinner at the brewery across the street.  It was a fantastic, laid-back end to a fantastic, laid-back Saturday.

Hello, Parliament! Nice to finally see you!

The next day was, of course, mother's day...a scant month after moving to a foreign country.  John probably gave himself the biggest guilt trip for not preparing anything 'special', but, c'mon...we live in Vienna...something as simple as taking a walk qualifies as 'special', so that's what we did.  My man washed all the dishes and made me coffee...then after breakfast, we headed out to explore some of Vienna's first district that we (still) hadn't seen.  I took a hundred pictures that morning--no lie.  And I won't even begin to name off the stuff that we saw, but it was breathtaking and beautiful...and oh, so Vienna.  After walking for quite a while and stopping for some Wurstel for lunch, John and Audrey split from us to go look inside the Stephansdom while Bailey and I went on our own little adventure.  I was really supposed to be scouting out the tea house I would be stopping by that afternoon, but it took me all of one minute, so The Bear and I poked around the alleyways off Stephansplatz and discovered the rooms Mozart rented while living in Vienna, the Jesuiten Kirche and many intriguing passageways and alleys that I had no idea existed.

Oh, Stephansdom, no words or pictures can do you justice

When we met back up again, John decided to take the girls home so I could have my traditional Sunday afternoon break.  This week, I was told to really take my time since it was mother's day and all...and did I ever.  It was my favorite Sunday yet.  I started by popping in to the Stephansdom by myself and basked in the ability to stand and just look; I could spend years studying this church.  As John often says: Stephansdom is worth the price of admission alone. Meaning, if Vienna were a desolate wasteland with only this amazing place at its center, we'd still feel privileged to live here.  If you don't believe me, I welcome you to come see it and judge for yourself.  I'll even let you sleep on the couch. 

My melange at Haas & Haas

After I got my fill of lovely gothic cathedral gawking, I headed across the courtyard to a place I have only very recently discovered; Haas & Haas is not a Viennese coffee house, nor has it been in place for decades--it is primarily a tea room with a reputation for serving excellent everything.  I walked through a small labyrinth to locate the one room open for serving on Sunday and ordered a Melange with whipped cream.  It was heavenly.  I think I can honestly say this place has been the one I have felt most comfortable in; it was not busy enough to justify my usual level of people watching, but I did feel myself sinking into the cushions of my bench, and really lingering as I haven't yet at any of the busier coffee houses.  Once I felt significantly rested, I headed out with no real destination in mind; I hadn't been to the Stadtpark on the southeastern side of the first district and decided to reconnoiter.  On my way, I discovered charming courtyards, stairs that led who-knows-where and of course, the ever-present palaces that seem to peek around every other corner here.  I eventually found myself across from Stadpark and from the sheer number of port-a-potties lining the hedges, I knew something was afoot.  As I neared the entrance, I saw a sea of tiny tents and running through them a river of people, with wine glasses and plates of food in hand. 

Visiting Stadtpark was a good choice.

mmm...cake and crowds.  Delish.

I trolled through the masses and soon found myself sitting under a tree, glass of wine in hand and a belly full of schwartzwälder kirschtorte.  This was were the real people watching was at.  After taking in my fill of the scene I set out to see the rest of the park and found myself at yet another palace-converted-hotel where a wedding was taking place...no bride and groom yet, but a bevy of women in incredibly sparkly and poofy dresses.  Continuing on, I started to hear music...and I was confused.  Was it for the wedding?  It was awful.  I started to feel bad for the happy couple--bad DJ's are one thing, but Lord, this was something else.  As I came around the corner, what should I see, but two native american men, playing wooden flutes...to a karaoke version of Simon and Garfunkel's El Condor Pasa...and yards away from them, the bride and groom posing for pictures.  It was magically hysterical.  I knew I wouldn't be able to top that moment for the day, so I turned heel and walked with a grin I couldn't wipe from my face to the U-Bahn station and back home where my sweet babies waited for me.

It was a wonderful mother's day.

These gents have no idea how much I love them.