Visiting the Penguins in Stadtpark!




















Good Morning, Strauss!

Audrey came up with the idea that we should all wear matching tiger shirts when we travel to the US...Guess what we did today.

Out to dinner with my loves at Cafe Wortner

Audrey's Marathon Birthday

Audrey has been planning her birthday for months...six months to be exact.  Because, while The Bear was enjoying her special day, Audrey was bemoaning the fact that her birthday would never be here and alternately letting us know exactly what she expected from her own special day...which certainly would never come because six months might as well mean 'infinity' to a four-year-old. Shockingly enough, we proved her wrong.

The 24th, for John and I, was a little bittersweet.  We spent the day thinking about all the things Audrey was doing that would never be done as a four-year-old again--so much awareness that we will never get this time back.  Meanwhile, Audrey was fairly bursting out of her skin to let us know: one day.   One. More. Day. and she'd be five.  The kid who usually insists on moderation was ready to bubble over with excitement.  So, John and I reluctantly got the girls ready for bed and gave them their last goodnight kisses before the morning brought a new age (Remember, B has also now graduated to the official title of three-and-a-half) and,  as I left their room for the night, I took one last look at my little Dragon, tucked up in her blankets like a burrito, wiggling her feet in anticipation.  That wiggly burrito fell asleep giggling, which felt like a perfect metaphor for our past year together.

You've heard the term "Christmas in July"? Narcissism and parental pride aside--this is what Audrey's birthday is. (I mean, seriously...she was born on the 25th...I rest my case.) The girls woke up eeeaaaarly.  It's summer...in Vienna...and they got up before the sun.  This is a feat in itself.  I was going to suggest we all join in a birthday snugglefest, but Audrey had already seen her new bicycle and nearly refused to even sit on the edge of my bed.  So, like a shot, we were off!

Audrey took a good look at her sweet new ride, gave the bell a few rings and then realized that she had a stack of presents waiting for her...and that a saber tooth tiger was waiting for her on top of it all.  Even Bailey had a little half-stack of half-birthday surprises at her place.  Manic.  They were just over the moon.  In seconds, the order of the day became to attack these presents with bouncy, frantic joy. Audrey encouraged her sister to help rip paper...and Bailey joyfully announced every gift, eventually bouncing with them, each in turn, around the dining room.  There were cards and happy presents from so many people back home; even though our families weren't here, the girls managed to wrap them all in the celebration.  Magic.  Just magic. In the end, there were gorgeous dresses and exciting new movies, a real magic wand and a beloved saber tooth tiger--but really, just a tidal wave of joy to start the day.

And we hadn't even gotten to breakfast yet.

This year, we've started a tradition of making birthday cake pancakes...which really just means we make pancakes and dump an entire bottle of sprinkles in the batter.  More magic.  Not to mention excessive amounts of bacon and, because Audrey is a Summer baby, in-season Austrian strawberries that are just to-die for.  Epic start to the day.  By 9am, Five is confirmed as the best age yet.

Then we moved on to getting dressed, which, with so many new clothes is no easy decision.  In the end, I was flabbergasted that Audrey chose the snowy tiger t-shirt I bought her from the zoo.  I knew she had been jealous of the boys who get to wear cool shirts, but this was a genuine surprise.  Perhaps we're moving into a new age of Audrey fashion?  Meanwhile, Bailey donned a dress her Emma had sent which turned out to be just gorgeous--absolutely darling.  Once her father and I were done exclaiming at her cuteness, The Bear demanded that she and her sister be allowed to eat their rainbow lollies...for second breakfast.

More birthday dreams come true.

Audrey's original plan had been to hit the pool, but the day dawned kind of cool and overcast.  Of her own accord, the kid suggested the alternate idea of going to Monki Park, an insane indoor playground complete with a giant bouncy slide.  So, we were off. The rest of our morning was filled with slides, ball pits, trampolines and troops of other crazy kids buzzing around us all.  We only stopped to inhale french fries and chicken nuggets before heading back into the storm.  On her last trip down the giant slide before leaving, though, Audrey had a bit of an accident.  She tried to avoid sliding into a boy who was climbing up the slide, planted her feet and did a really odd barrel roll while holding my hand, eventually landing awkwardly on her neck and shoulder.  It was one of the strangest tumbles John or I have ever seen a kid make.  Needless to say, she was whisked away by her mama to make sure all her parts were in working order and everything seemed to be ok...come to find out five minutes later that her elbow must have been hyperextended and was hurting something awful.

We were en-route to take our beat-up birthday girl straight home when she perked up a bit and actually seemed interested in stopping for ice cream.  This was something we had been hearing about for months; the declaration that Audrey would get to have a cone with three scoops of ice cream on her birthday.  Elbow injuries aside, one would think this would be a momentous occasion....One would be wrong...in part.  The kid ate that ice cream like it was her duty--determined to push through to check the task off her list as part of her birthday marathon.  In the end it was a little comical...at least for me.  I wanted so badly to document this as one of her 'firsts', but the only looks she would give me on camera were grim determination.  If Audrey proved nothing else, it was that being the birthday girl ain't easy.

After that hectic morning, early wake-up time, and buzz-kill injury, the girls were worn down.  So, they were both tucked into Mama and Papa's bed when we got home, Audrey with her elbow propped on a bag of frozen okra, and both girls given strict instructions to relax and watch Puss in Boots on their Papa's iPad. (Side note: these are the times when I begin to understand that scene in Gone With the Wind where all the ladies are ordered to pass out for naptime between the barbecue and the dance.)

So, the girls relaxed and John and I set the stage for the coming party.  I had so much fun decorating Audrey's cake this year.  It was so hot outside that I had to keep everything in the fridge and decorate it at the last minute so it wouldn't melt into a puddle by party time.  In the end, we wound up with chocolate cake, separated by a layer of cherry filling, bordered with whole strawberries.  It was topped with rainbow chip frosting, a border of fresh cherries and blueberries, two kinds of sprinkles and a fairy riding a baby unicorn, holding a candy cane.  All by Audrey's design.  The kid might be a genius, is what I'm saying.

Anyway, movie time eventually ended and friends started coming over.  The girls proudly distributed kid-sized fruit-flavored mineral waters to their friends (I mean, seriously, could we be more European?!...But equally as serious: dehydration is your worst enemy.) and soon every toy was on the floor and there was a steady stream of screaming, balloon-wielding children running around the apartment like we had planned a marathon.  Then there was pizza and spilled drinks and sticky fingers...and eventually more running and screaming.  Now, I'm not really a party planner--I just make sure no one will starve to death and let the rest fall into place--but I was really excited when one of Audrey's friends discovered her stash of stickers and instigated some impromptu craft time.  I just stood back like it had all been planned.  *Mom of the Year*

Through the screaming and running and eating and coloring, Audrey had been having a lot of fun and was showing a remarkable amount of patience, but I knew she was really anticipating her birthday cake.  It is no small feat to get that many cats children to stay in one place to sing happy birthday, but in the end, I led the stray wanderers to Audrey like the pied piper; fabulous unicorn cake also has that affect on children, it turns out.

Our Audrey girl was understandably shy, being serenaded and set at the center of attention; she sat on her Papa's lap and asked him to help her blow out her candles first before she gained the courage to blow out the rest.  She got to take her baby unicorn off her cake, licked the frosting off his feet and then asked me about ten times if she could eat her cake before actually digging in. When I finally sat down next to her to eat my own slice, she gave me her signature arm squeeze and quietly exclaimed in wonder that her cake had been exactly like she wanted.  At this point it was getting really hard for me to pick what my favorite part of the day had been, because the kid just kept pulling my heartstrings.

To say the party started to wind down after this would be a confusing statement for anyone who isn't a parent.  It was more the sense that children were starting to hit the manic state that immediately precedes either a complete emotional meltdown or falling asleep on the floor...sometimes both.  Marathon birthday parties will do that to a person.  So, party clean-up went into full swing and people started searching for the shoes that Bailey had hidden around the apartment.  We said goodbye to our friends and I drew up a relaxing bubble bath for the birthday girl.  She stayed in the water until the bubbles were gone and her fingers were pruny.  Then it was time for a bedtime snack and a review of the day in pictures.  When I asked her what her favorite part of the day had been, Audrey answered that it had been her cake.  She even set her unicorn-riding, candy cane-wielding fairy at the foot of my bed and told us that her fairy would protect John and I while we were sleeping.


Did I mention the heart-string pulling?

It was a BIRTHDAY--all caps--no doubt--BIRTHDAY, man.  We were all exhausted and glowing from the residual fun lingering about the apartment.  Just, wow.  Audrey knows how to plan a marathon day of partying.  Let me know if you'd like to hire her for your next event...just make sure you start training in advance.








           

To Audrey on Her Fifth Birthday

Dear Audrey,

For some reason this year, I haven't been able to keep myself from holding onto your final days of being four, kiddo.  I've been overwhelmed with the feeling that this year has sped past us and the knowledge that you'll never be four again has been staring me in the face.  Five years ago, I was laying awake at night, impatient to meet you, wearing tracks up and down our street during the days, convinced I could somehow walk you into existence.  In the end, you waited until the heat became overbearing and jets started zooming over the house to celebrate boat race weekend.  You also waited until I could eat two jelly donuts before heading to the hospital, proving, my dear, that you are such a good child.

And, you are such an incredibly wonderful girl.  You fill our lives with light with your sweet, imaginative personality.  You love nothing more than to casually while away the day playing make believe, splashing about like a fish in the water, screaming and running with your sister or, really, anything that involves a playground. While you're not busy gadding about living the childhood of dreams, you are being so absolutely, unbelievably clever and thoughtful.  You blow my mind about ten times a day with the things you create, imagine, and do for others.  It frightens me, to tell the truth, what you'll be capable of five years from now.

But for now, I'm looking forward to this year.  Five.  Five is going to be a honeymoon for us, kiddo.  Sure, we'll needle each other and disagree over silly ticky-tacky things, but right now, life with you is nothing but lovely.  And this is where I want to spend every day--with you while you'll still have me.  I love you madly, my girl.

Mama Gigi    
     

Tis the Season...for Naked Babies

Fa la la la la la la la laaaaa!  I've decided to touch a bit here and there on some of the cultural differences that we've observed over the past year or so.  And since it's our second Summer here, I'm going to dive head-first into the most glaringly obvious cultural difference (for anyone in the US not living in a nudist colony) for this time of year: Nudity.  It's everywhere. And it's actually not shocking or offensive.

To start with the basics, people in Vienna, for the most part, live outside their homes.  They work, they eat out and when there's free time--they go out...to the park, the pub, a performance or a club...doesn't matter.  They're out there, living their lives in public.  (I realize I'm leaving out the portion of society that sits at home with their cats, smoking cigarettes and complaining about the neighbors, but they're probably naked too.) Understandably, when the weather turns warm, people flock to the park and the beach--bodies dotting every bit of green in the city.  And a lot of them are naked--or at least close enough for the casual observer.

Now, there are specified areas in parts of the city (usually along the river) that are designated as nude/FKK (Freikörperkultur or basically 'free body culture').  I understand this concept is something that is cause for a lot of giggles from us Yanks, but from what I've seen (and, believe me--it was enough) nude beaches here are mostly a lot of old, wrinkled, leathery-tanned people standing around casually talking to each other like they're not totally naked.  If that didn't pour ice water on any assumptions that nude beaches are sexy, I don't know what will.  But, honestly, there are no strict rules for keeping the nudity in it's place here.

For starters, a lot of beaches don't have public changing rooms--you either have to change in a cramped bathroom stall or rent a cabinet for yourself.  And from what I can tell, most people just chose to change in public.  This is not a big deal; one either strategically covers themselves with a towel or goes Full Monty without a care in the world.  Such is life.  So, it becomes quite commonplace to walk amongst people in various stages of dress at the beach.  And that is just a small hop, skip and a jump from not really minding the grandma who couldn't bring herself to go bathing suit shopping, the mama who wants easy access to nurse her kids or really anyone who just wants to avoid tan lines.  In the end, it doesn't matter why--once you've seen enough (I cannot stress enough the importance of the word) *normal* naked bodies, that giggly immature adolescent part of one's brain seems to just give up and accept that this is what normal people look like naked and it's actually not a big deal.

Maybe it's because kids here start out this way--naked--and not just the natural way they entered the world, but it extends well into kid-dom.  Nudity is totally acceptable. These kids are raised in a city boasting beautiful nude figures on nearly every building.  There is nudity around the corner at the neighborhood fountain, plastered about town on advertisements, and kids, themselves, frolic around naked as the day they were born as long as the weather calls for it.  When there are mud and sand pits at every playground in the city and a bevy of water-filled activities to boot, it becomes commonplace for a mom to forgo schlepping around a spare set of clothes and a wet bag in favor of letting the kids gad about as nature intended.  It has actually taken me a full year to realize this and it makes an incredible amount of sense when basically every day is spent letting your kids get good and dirty.

And that's really all there is to it.  The nude form, culturally, is considered normal.  Children are raised by parents who consider it normal.  They play with children who also consider it normal, and grow into adults who are able to walk past a topless woman without batting an eye.  In the end it nearly makes me weep that nursing women in the US are subject to so much scrutiny when just across the ocean there is a culture that quite simply has made a non-issue of bare skin.

But there you have it:  culture.

And this is one aspect you'll certainly hear me telling jokes about, but never actually complaining.  The world, in my mind, could do with a bit more Freikörperkultur. 

Praising the Day(s)

"One shouldn't praise the day before coffee."

You guys, this year has been weird.  Mostly weather-wise.   It's a lot for this sun-loving gal to take in and certainly overwhelming thinking about writing anything.  By now, everyone and their brother knows that our Winter lasted forever.  Spring kept trying to peek it's lovely face around the corner only to be smacked down by days that were more deserving of heavy sweaters and leggings.  And then came the rain.  Oh, Lord! The rain!  The Danube flooded like crazy and I suddenly became very grateful that this city has spent years diverting water into a gazillion different branches that all get some version of the name "Danube" stuck to them.  So, after the rain and flooding came SUMMER.  All caps.  Two weeks of sweltering holy-dear-God-where-did-this-come-from heat.  And we were in the swimming pool every day of it, soaking in the sun and glorifying the comfort of shade only to be deflated by yet another cool spell--this one punctuated by girls quietly asking why we suddenly weren't allowed to behave like fish anymore.  Now, finally, at the tail end of July, it seems we've finally settled into days that are just perfection; clear skies, warm sun, cool shade, just right for swimming.

Sweet snuggly babies in the sun

And that's where we've been--every day--out in the sun, the shade, the water, letting the wind blow in our hair and only coming home when exhaustion has consumed us.

We're getting ready for Audrey's birthday and trying to wrap our minds around a trip to the States this Fall.  But, mostly, we're on some kind of family Honeymoon, where the order of the day is to spend as much time together as we can, doing the things we enjoy most.  Every day is not easy, but it's good-- just lovely. This is the time of year when it's impossible not to love Vienna, and so, it's what we do.

Papa love