From Carnival to the Carribean in one Week. Take that, February!

We've basically been doing nothing but celebrating this week.  For starters, I'm deeming us all healthy--or as healthy as a collective body of people with runny noses can be.  This alone could be reason to pop open some bubbly, but instead, Carnival popped up and surprised us for the first time this year.  I haven't given much thought to celebrating the last day before lent with excessive amounts of donuts and silly costumes before, but that is how the Austrians roll...at least that's how the under-five-year-old set rolls.  Audrey had a party at school which we were supposed to bring donuts to, so I headed out to the bakery at 6:30am like a good mother to pick up some fresh ones. You could've knocked me over with a feather as I walked through the door at our Felber; there were so many donuts (krapfen) in the case, they were literally flowing out of it.  I might have let out a giddy laugh before ordering our half dozen.  And let it be known, I was not the only one there at the crack of dawn for donuts.  These people know how to party.

From what I hear, Audrey's school party was a romping success, complete with dancing and a buffet of sugary treats  Her teachers said she was really getting into the dancing, and I believe it--she's been busting out some killer moves at our bedroom dance parties.  

Since big sister got to trot off to school in a fancy princess dress, Bailey would not be left out.  She spent the entire day in her Rapunzel gown and was actually in her element amidst the other fairy princesses and bumble bees at her music class.  I didn't want B to be entirely left out of the festivities, so I surprised the girls with some Carnival cakes and noise-makers when we got home for the day.  These mini-sacher tortes were topped with Carnival characters that absolutely cracked me up.  We got one scurvy pirate and what I can only guess is the impression Austrians have of a Mexican sheriff; it was so racist it couldn't possibly be anything but funny.   

The girls and I had a really fun time whiling away the afternoon, eating cakes, tooting party horns and making valentines...because this was just the beginning of the celebrating!

Audrey's school had a little mailbox set up in the entry way so kids could drop off Valentines.  To my understanding, they had been working on making some cards in class and although they don't send out class lists like we do in the States, they encouraged kids to bring Valentines for anyone they wanted to.

Now, I should probably explain that, while this is an actual acknowledged holiday here, it is not, by any means, the same commercial, guilt-ridden holiday that we experience in the US.  Think: less mandatory participation, more fleeting acknowledgement.  So, there are no stores rolling out isles of pre-made children's valentines as soon as the new year turns and there are also no pinterest-addicted mothers with perfect hand-made valentines to contend with.  We spent a few afternoons cutting hearts out of construction paper, sticking random stickers on them and writing messages to Audrey's classmates about her undying love for them.  It was actually pretty cute.

Meanwhile, my bitter old heart has come around to actually enjoying this holiday. I took some time the night before to decorate the dining room and even presented my lovies with a festive breakfast including apples with heart cut-out centers and heart-shaped bacon.  It feels a lot less cheesy and a lot more fun when you're doing it for children instead of a skeeved-out significant other.  So, we sent Audrey off to school with her stack of charmingly authentic Valentines, come to find out she was one of the only kids who made ANY Valentines...and, moreover, that her heart-felt sentiments of love combined with adorable dog and cat stickers had basically won over the entire class.  The kid was fairly BUSTING at the seams to tell me how her friends reacted to their Valentines.  She didn't even notice that she didn't get one from anyone else; she was just so excited to have been the one to bring everyone else joy.

That is what I want to be when I grow up.

This is now "standard picture-taking face" mode

We spent the rest of Valentine's Day hanging out at Papa's work and preparing a fantastic feast for dinner.  I made steak and shrimp (or "surf n' turf" as John repeatedly demanded I phrase it) with actual mashed potatoes. (this is kind of a big deal around here) John brought home a bottle of swanky Italian wine and we made a night of it.  This was one time we were grateful that our girls are generally happy to linger endlessly at the dinner table.  It was a fantastic evening.

I think I can safely say this has been my favorite Valentines Day ever.  It's not much of a stretch since it didn't involve rubbing my fingers raw, tying latex balloons for my parent's flower shop or denying the day's general existence in response to the aforementioned balloon-related emotional scarring. (at least they also let me eat ridiculous amounts of chocolate)

Anyway, come the 15th, I was not ready for February to swallow my festive spirit.  Generally, I hate February; I hate the endless cold, the bleak outlook for Spring, the seeming impossibility that the sun will ever return--so after a day or two of moping, I decided to fight back the only way I knew how: if I couldn't take a tropical vacation, then I'd be damned if I wasn't going to bring the tropics here.

Enter:  Pina Colada's, strawberry daquiri's, island-themed dinners and tropical fruits out the wazoo.  (thank you, Naschmarkt).  I even downloaded an entire album of steel guitar Hawaiian music.   The girls have even been coming home covered in sand; (I issued a temporary lift on the sand-pit embargo) and we've been spending a lot of time at the playground, listening to the birds and digging in the dirt. 

Same shirt, different day...same level of enthusiasm for sugary treats

To say things have been looking up since we decided to go into island-life mode would be an understatement.  We've been kind of busting at the seams, finding joy and contentment in the simple things--taking the time to enjoy nature, however frozen and stark she may seem.  I still hate February, but I'm willing to let this one slide...on a river of delicious rum beverages and dreams of sand between my toes.  

Cabin Fever

The girls and I have been actively trying NOT to leave the house for over a week now. We've officially fallen victim to a pretty nasty cold and it hit the littles hard. In reality, it has actually been nice to allow ourselves the luxury of letting each day ebb and flow at it's own pace with nothing other than the occasional trip to the grocery store pulling us out into the real world. Our days have been filled with quiet games of pretend, hours spent leafing through books and arranging puzzle pieces, snuggles upon snuggles upon sleepy, feverish snuggles. And John has been a rock star, beginning with his absolute refusal to fall in with our pathetic, sniffling lot. While I've been battling this bug with vitamin c and essential oils, he has utilized nothing but an unwavering stubborn will...and it seems to be working out so far. He has been our steady rock--our supply officer, bringing home everything a sick kiddo could want from the commissary.

All in all, even though I worry like any other Mama about breaking high fevers or making sure the babes are breathing peacefully as they sleep, it's not all bad. I enjoy the snuggly movie marathon days it merits. I love being with my kids...until they start to get better, that is. Then there is this indeterminate amount of time it will take them to transition from "living in the movie-filled style they're suddenly accustomed to" to "reality". 

So, our week was punctuated by kids who could somehow spend two hours at the dinner table without finishing half of their meal, a Bear who decided to cry for me from her bed fifteen times in one hour, only to demand that I leave her alone once I appeared...and another kid who, despite all her assurances that she had a very full tummy, vomited at an ungodly early hour because she chugged water on an empty stomach.

These are the days that find me trying to stop recalling memories I thought had been successfully repressed from our days living in parenting survival mode. They also bring me an extra measure of gratitude that this behavior is out of the norm for our girls--the knowledge that, God-willing, we'll be able to put our heads down and barrel through the transition back to "normal".
  
So, although I'm usually cool with remaining housebound and I had already run through the aforementioned silver linings to the situation, all it took was one more meal in which Audrey took the smallest bites known to man (or possibly any species--still waiting to hear back on that study) and Bailey managed to hold food in her mouth longer than it would naturally take someone's saliva to completely break down any substance...by this point I fairly sprinted out of the house for my coffee break. I remorselessly left John behind, repressing the urge to yell something juvenile like: "Later, SUCKAH!!", and heard him tell Bailey for the three-hundred-and-ninety-fourth time to chew the food in her mouth as I closed the door behind me.  I did a little jig and then the enormous bag of trash I was taking out ripped open on the stairs.

Kharma, you say? Well, she was being kind. You could've heard me whistling Dixie while I scooped coffee grounds off the steps with my bare hands. Best coffee break ever.  (get it?! get it?! *nudge* *nudge*)

Don't judge me. Bad puns are a well known side effect of being slowly driven crazy by demanding not-really-still-sick children.

Our Sweetly Surprising February

These two do NOT belong on the slopes

Tall and gangly as we are, John and I have always been a bit too clumsy to seriously consider winter sports.  As big as it is for every other Viennese resident, hitting the slopes is really out of the question for us (ambulances and crutches come to mind) and I only wish the alternative--a fantastic tropical vacation--was on the books. We've been taking it easy this winter.  In truth, I was apprehensive about this. Most Februaries find me sullen and grumbling about the unlikelihood that the sun will ever return.  I tend to shirk any duties around the house that aren't vital for human survival and John starts avoiding eye contact.  Luckily, though, this year my little family has seemed to be a true elixir to the winter doldrums.  I won't rule out the fact that I'm eating better, exercising, and just generally living a more relaxed lifestyle, but I've been able to find true joy this year in nothing simpler than spending time with my family. 

Part of this is why we've made the decision to pull Audrey from her preschool to pursue homeschooling this Spring.  More so, though, Audrey is starting to show genuine interest in learning how to write and learn her numbers--this is stuff that Austrian schools won't even begin to address until children are six years old.  And since Audrey will be nearly six (I start hyperventilating even writing that) when we return to the States, we figured we might as well take advantage of her interest.  It helps that my girls prefer to spend every moment--waking or sleeping--with each other.  And I prefer to spend all my time with them as well.  So, traditional school is out and we've stepped our unconventional way of living up a notch.

I know that homeschooling is fairly prevalent in the States, but here in Europe it is a rarity (it's even illegal in Germany).  So, we've encountered a LOT of confusion when trying to explain this to our peers here.  I've been asked if I'm a certified teacher or if we plan on hiring tutors.  In all fairness, though, I have had a few friends express interest and even one mama with three kids in Austrian schools who professed to be jealous of our ability to homeschool.  As a family, we're really looking forward to it.  I've always doubted my ability to teach my kids while retaining my sanity, but now that Audrey is on board, this prospect seems so much more promising. 

And that brings us back to just how much we like spending time together.  I've been reading The Red Tent by Anita Diamant--a novel narrated in the voice of Leah's (one of Jacob's four wives) daughter Dinah.  I'm finding myself able to relate with these women more than I had anticipated (outside of the sister-wife thing), but especially how Leah conveyed the joy she felt during her "fallow years"--when she was allowed to let her body rest from growing and nursing babies: "Leah remembered her fallow years as a time of great contentment.  She held the fullness of every day in her hands, numbering the sweetness of children, the pleasure of work." 

I haven't found anything that speaks so truly to how I feel during this season of my life.  That seemingly insatiable baby fever that once consumed me is now a thing of the past and we are certainly out of the trenches of infancy.  I hold the fullness of each day in my hands now.  I don't need ski vacations or preschools to give me a break in my mothering.  I enjoy the work there is do be done in my home and, especially, the time I can take every day to number the sweetness of my children.  We aren't doing anything but numbering the days spent together this winter, but still, life feels so full.  Once the weather turns, we'll surely be off on day trips and will hardly spend two waking hours together in the house, but for now we are basking in the sweetness of a simple life.