Zell am See: Day One

This past week we embarked on a trip that encompassed many firsts for us--it was our first overnight trip out of Vienna, our first family trip by train and the first birthday Audrey has ever spent away from her extended family. That could've added up to a lot of pressure, but we managed to take the overwhelming feelings and realizations as they came--supporting each other as we always do and occasionally goading one another into fits of rage or laughter...often both at the same time.

I think it's important to note that before we moved to Vienna, I wrote a list (I wrote about five hundred lists, actually, but this was an important one too) of things I wanted to accomplish while we are living abroad. Mostly, it encompassed ideas supporting our desire to grow closer as a family, but the top two items were: Know Vienna and Know Austria.  I want to leave this place behind as I would an old friend--Someone I'm able to identify by the sound of their throat clearing in another room, someone whose face I can recall down to it's every wrinkle.  So, while we had initially considered traveling to the beach in Croatia or Italy, Austria's wilderness kept calling.

Lake Zell

We ended up renting an apartment in a town called Zell am See--a little Alpine town that sits on one of the many gorgeous, pristine lakes in the area. Technically Zell am See is in the section of Austria called Salzburgerland, but it butts up to Hohe Tauern National Park: the largest national park in Austria. Here, one is amongst the pine-covered Alps in the Pinzgauer range where happy alpine cows produce happy alpine milk and beef--where dirndls, lederhosen, hiking boots and hulking packs are the norm. No one is out to impress anyone else; the overall goal is to relax--to enjoy God's magnificent creation or to hike/cycle up in it--to feel as one with the breathing of the trees and the song of birds.

An impromptu Drama staged on the train platform

Our train ride(s) out were a real adventure.  We had to transfer twice and each individual train ride ran the gamut of experiences I imagine one can have on a locomotive.  It was very cool watching the scenery change from rolling farmland outside of Vienna to the hills and forested areas near Salzburg. Once we headed towards Zell am See, we got into some incredibly dramatic terrain.  Not to mention the people-watching was absolutely top-notch.   (John and I never tire of making up background stories for every individual we encounter.) By the time we made it to Zell am See, we were ready to be done with train rides and drop our mound of luggage at the apartment.  After getting our keys, we didn't hesitate to literally drop everything and go find a Gasthaus in which to grab a beer (or three).  I'm not sure the cuisine at Gasthaus Gruener Baum is truly as earth-shatteringly delicious as I found it at the moment, but we were ecstatic to be stationary, devoid of luggage, and served hot food by happy staff.  It was an excellent introduction to the culture in Salzburgerland.

Prost!  He earned that beer!

The overall happy, laid-back spirit here would be hard to evade.  Our first morning, we started a habit of bundling in blankets on the porch, greeting the mountains and the pine cones, listening to the dinging of church bells and chirping of birds.  Reluctantly, we would head inside for breakfast, but once we stuffed our bellies and were done savoring our morning coffee, we were out. Usually for the day.

Good morning, mountains!

Soaking in the sights

Audrey's birthday was our first full day in Zell am See and we basically laid out her options and let her decide what we would do. What more could a four year old ask for? Our morning was filled with lots of exploration--at the playground, watching the swans and ducks at the lake, riding the Papa elephant into the mountains. Audrey was out to see it all and we got a good feel for the general area before an afternoon rain storm started rolling in. Luckily, even though the apartment didn't supply toilet paper, they did have a copy of The Sound of Music and we spent our afternoon listening to the rain through the open windows, singing along with Fraulein Maria and the Von Trapps. For dinner, we traipsed out in the rain at Audrey's request for some pizza.  We ended up at Pizzeria Guiseppe, where we ate outside under some fantastic awnings and watched people bobbing by under their umbrellas.

photo credit for this one goes to the birthday girl

Birthday cake

I would have to say that even though we had been opening presents all day and trekking about in the wilderness, the absolute pinnacle of Audrey's day was when she saw her candles waiting for her--there are no words for the happy expression on her face as she realized that this was her day--her turn to blow out the candles.  We weren't pretending.  It was the real deal.  I'm going to hold that bright smile in my heart until I die.  She could've cared less about the slice of cake she had picked out as her special treat.  All my big girl really wanted for her birthday were those four lit candles.

A Birthday Letter for My Not-So-Little Dragon

My Dearest Audrey Girl,

You've looked at me like this since birth

You are four.  Four!  I don't think you particularly care, but your Mama and Papa are feeling the weight of this year.  This is the first time in your life you've celebrated without the rest of your family.  It's just us--the four of us--and we want desperately to show you how much you are loved.  Not just through material gifts, but through the near-palpable affection we have for you.

Queen Audrey in her native environment

So, we took you to the mountains and to the lake.  We took you on trains, buses, and trams up to soaring heights.  We showered you with little gifts, with kisses and cake.  We let you call the shots all day--something you love, but rarely get to do.  Your Papa has already asked you so many times, you automatically tell him you'll still love him when you grow up.  We are naturally fearful for you and I guess someday we'll apologize, but for now you are our first born--we walk together daily on paths that are foreign to us, wading through the uncertainty in trial and error, hoping, above all, that you'll come out knowing how much you are loved. 

On your first trip to the ocean

Do you have any idea how precious you are to us, sweet girl?  We have been through so much together in your short four years.  We have watched your intelligent eyes take in the world and have urged you on as you face obstacles, cheering with you as you overcome each one with proud joy.  We are so proud of you--so ridiculously over the moon.  I cannot describe the undisputed joy I feel at seeing you every morning when you brush those messy curls out of your scrowling face, when you turn the corner to visit me in the kitchen, when you look up and see me coming to pick you up at preschool.  Those moments--your sweet, slow smile--they keep my heart whole.  You are my treasure.  And I love you beyond words.

Happy Birthday, my little lady.

Mama GiGi

A Vacation From Our Vacation

Before I regale you all with tales from our Alpine adventures, I thought I should let you know--I've been writing--but not much--because all four of us have conveniently succumbed, at the tail end of our trip, to a draining summer cold.  John said on the way home that he needed a vacation from our vacation...and we all got one. 

We've spent the past 24 hours lounging (I use the term loosely) around the apartment in our jammies, watching movies, blowing our noses and drinking noxious tinctures to support our immune systems.  It hasn't been a trip to the beach, but it's a break, so we're thankful for the forced rest and the time spent snuggling together. 

In the mean time, here is a picture of how much stuff a family of four traveling by train must lug with them to survive a trip to the mountains.  I termed this 'traveling light', but really, it was just a test to see how much stuff I could fit in three bags.  "Light" had nothing to do with it. 

And yes, I made my big four-year-old lug her own gear.  It builds character. 

Finding Peace at Cafe Markusplatz

I've been searching for peace and losing the battle this past week. Between acute growing pains in my new country, the arrival of our shipment,  our subsequent settling-in and preparation for our first trip out of Vienna, most days I have lost sight of it--those golden rays of peace that usually form my safety net. I forget that God is with me, carrying me through the madness. I find myself more often crying: Help me Jesus! I have lost faith!

I'm working on it...or more importantly asking Him to draw me nearer--to help me find joy and constant fulfilment in Him.

This week I needed my coffee break--my undisputed carved-out time that is for Him and Him only. Even though I've been back in my Study Bible and reading The Gospel, the feeling of His tangible presence has evaded me.

So I picked a cafe at random from my list and went in search of it. I found myself in Cafe Markusplatz where the walls are lined with mirrors and posters glued upon posters. The waiters are handsome and courteous. The guests sit in wobbly spindle-legged chairs and keep to themselves. Fiakers clip clop down the street at regular intervals and most people I see wandering down the street carry with them a cone from Eissalon Tuchlauben.

Once I find my seat, I hardly regard the double espresso and applestrudel cake Herr Ober promptly delivers.  I am hungry for my Savior's presence.  He tells me He is with me--that His light should only be brighter in my brief moments of darkness. I beg of Him to keep me--to draw me near--to teach me how to feel His presence always. Markusplatz is my confessional and here I lay my soul bare.

I pray for peace for me and mine. For you. For my girls. For the man on the street. For the cook in the kitchen.  I could stay in this Cafe forever, basking in His light. I bottle it up and tuck it in my soul--His spirit will come with me when my seat is deserted.  I have found His peace again--always in my coffee--my coffee house cathedral. Where the murmers at the neighboring tables might as well be a swelling choir. My soul sings out to the Lord. Immanuel. God with us.

Peace be with you, my friends. Always--not just in your coffee.

Full Shelves and an Overflowing Heart

I'm going to go ahead and admit I allowed myself to experience way too much apprehension about the arrival of our shipment.  It's just that everything involved in the process of moving overseas has had some kind of setback--usually a significant setback--one that made me want to pull my hair out and start claiming monkeys could do people's jobs better than they could.

Yeah, not pretty.

But you can understand how I was unwilling to believe all of our things would appear without issue.

But they did.

All of them.  And nothing broken beyond repair (although John might argue what that point of repair is).  Our movers were fantastic--they arrived on time and helped me unpack most of the boxes they carried up.  They took all the extra paper and cardboard with them and there was no issue with the language barrier.  Hallelujah!  

Most of our stuff was out of boxes and put away or at least delegated a room that first day and the past few days have been spent putting things together like our desk and the girls' play kitchen.  The long and the short of it is: our house is now a home. I've come to realize that my worry had no grounds--I was the one to pack away our things, after all.  The majority of our boxes were for the kitchen, for the girls, or books and pictures. 

Words cannot express how happy my heart is to have my mother's pottery back in the kitchen with me.  I'm used to my mother being ever-present in my home...in the dishes I eat off of, the mug I find peace in, the soap I wash with, the rugs I walk on, even the art on the walls. We might have lived apart for a long time, but my mother has always had a strong presence in my daily life; living for months without that same warm feeling emanating from every room has made things a little more empty.  Now I am surrounded by her presence again and all the old familiar spirits have come with her in our shipment as well.  If you have ever gifted me with a kitchen utensil, sent me a card or a care package in the mail--you are in my daily life--in my prayers in my happy thoughts, bringing a smile to my face as I make coffee, flip pancakes and fry bacon. 

In direct contrast to my fears, I find I am not overwhelmed with stuff, but with happy familiarity. I cannot possibly tell you how you are ALL in my life, but you're here--in Vienna.  With me.  Bringing me comfort as I walk along this path. 

No more empty shelves...just full hearts

 

What the Schweighardts Actually Need

I know I've carped a lot on here about my desire to live simply and love deeply-- to do without what we don't need, but probably for the first time ever, I'm going to focus on what we do need: what material possessions have gotten us through this move with grace.  On the eve of our shipment's arrival from the states, I think it's only appropriate to dole out some high fives to the inanimate objects that saved our sanity.

Being a foodie, it was very difficult deciding what kitchen utensils to bring within our limited allowance of luggage. I knew there was no way I could do without my American measuring cups and spoons--finding replacements for those wasn't even an option here, so they were no-brainers.  I also brought my favorite slotted spatula, rubber spatula, pancake flipper, and flat cheese grater. That might seem weird, but I have emotional bonds with these things...that probably sounds weird too.  I'm cool with that.  It's my kitchen.   

Perhaps my most love/hate relationship with anything we packed was with our preserve plastic tableware. We had no idea what situation we would be in once we rented our permanent apartment and I knew having something to eat off of and eat with would be a major issue if it was not included in a furnished apartment. (sometimes 'furnished' over here means: "hey look!  You have appliances!") And while we do have some plates, two bowls and a minimal amount of silverware that our landlady included with the apartment, it was nowhere near enough to have in rotation for a family of four.  So, the preserve plates, bowls (and especially the cutlery) have come in very handy...if they aren't actually aesthetically pleasing for extended use.  We've done without and it hasn't been that big of a deal.

Aside from all that, the obvious shining star in the kitchen has been our french press and a manual coffee grinder.  I am being totally serious when I say: Life could not have gone on without these two things.  We have no intention of buying an electric coffee maker or grinder and so these two win hands-down in the kitchen.

 The girls, as far as provisions go, have been shockingly low maintenance on this adventure. Luckily, we had enough space in our bags to pack toys and books.  We've purchased some new toys, art supplies and stuffed animals here, but considering how much I whittled down the girls' toys coming in the shipment, I honestly don't feel we'll run into feelings of excess.  If nothing else, we'll have some wiggle room with rotating things to keep them interesting.

The one item that we, as parents, could not have lived without, I doubt Bailey even has much of an opinion on. Her GoCrib was something I stumbled upon several months before we left and it has become one of the most important items we brought with us; forget the coffee accoutrement, that crazy girl needs a place to sleep. Even if it is more reminiscent of camping than an actual crib, the GoCrib is incredibly light, has it's own backpack-sized bag and sets up in a few minutes with a hand-operated pump.  Before we heard of this, we were contemplating lugging our bulky pack-n-play through the airport...It probably would've ended up abandoned in a heap next to the trash.  Our GoCrib is a Godsend; the girls also use it as a kind of jungle gym and love making it into a tent by putting a blanket over the top.  High fives all around!  This thing has been used every day for over three months (we used it for nap times before we moved) and is still in incredible shape. 

And while all the aforementioned items have been comfortingly essential, the one thing that has at times been our literal life-line is our iMac.  We purchased it a few years ago thinking it would make an excellent substitute for the TV we had removed from our room when Audrey was a wee babe.  We didn't watch television any more, but movies before bed were still something we wanted to be able to do.  This thing delivered.  The screen is huge, the design is sleek.  We love it.  But it is NOT--may I repeat--NOT portable.

Yet, it had to come with us.

We don't have a laptop, and we knew our iPhones would be short-lived once we made it into the country.  This puppy was coming with us and there was no way we were letting the baggage handlers get their meat hooks on it.  Enter: the iLugger.  That's right.  We paid a pretty penny for a bag in which we literally lugged (it's an accurate descriptor) our enormous desktop computer across the ocean.  This thing required special tags and permissions on every flight; most of the time it had to be placed in the storage area in 1st class.  That baby flew in style.  And it was worth every muscle ache and bead of sweat (I'm speaking for John here--I was busy with babies, remember?) because once we got here, we had something for the girls to watch their many...MANY...M-A-N-Y sanity saving movies on. It was a place where I could sit and word-vomit the insanity we were going through onto my blog and a way for John to find comfort in the familiarity of American Baseball after the girls had gone to bed.  Technology might be viewed by some (like me!) as a necessary evil, but having our computer with us has been an unspeakable blessing.  There's no way I could comprehend having gone through this without it...because that would mean going through this without you.  The support of people reading my silly ramblings, the ability to drop a friend a line on Facebook, to send a stream-of-thought email to an unsuspecting victim friend sister or to video chat with people I'd rather be able to hug.  Those things have all been vital for our general happiness and sanity. 

That's the thing: we're happy.  We have what we need.  And now I'm a little bit nervous about getting our stuff.

We've made it this far.  We've done without.  We've made-do.  We've let those things we packed away so long ago become memories.  Why can't we do without them now?  There are things coming tomorrow that I WANT--that I honestly joyfully look forward to having in my possession again.  But, I clearly don't need any of it.  That's heavy stuff for someone with a deep-seeded desire to live as a minimalist. 

I've just been praying a lot today.  I want to have the discernment to identify things coming tomorrow that we truly don't need and I'd like to have good judgement in what to do with those items.  I don't want to succumb to joyful enthusiasm and greedily accept all this stuff back into my life.  I'd rather see these shelves and walls bare than to succumb to idolizing my possessions.  I'm uneasy with the excitement of all this being ours again.

It is truly an odd place to be.  

So, I'll keep writing and praising God and loving on my babies.  And in the end, I don't think we'll go too wrong.

Stay tuned for what is sure to be rapture at seeing my hot pink pants again.

I Could Go for a Mojito...

Sometimes when you're having a head-pounding, frustrating day, God sends you an English-speaking woman with a fluffy golden retriever, begging for his belly to be rubbed.  Yesterday it was a Croatian man who was so excited the girls and I were from the States, I thought he was going to jump up and kiss me. 

We've been dealing with some pain-in-the-rump issues this week, so these little moments of levity have been very welcome.  I've been testing the limits of my German vocabulary, talking on the phone and exchanging emails with people, trying to find out which forms signed by which people (who may or may or may not be on vacation for an entire month) need to be taken where with what accompanying paperwork.  All while trying to discern which options they've given us will result in certain fines and, by the way, is all this seriously necessary?!?!  All of this effort is going into a process so Audrey can be assigned a number to receive a subsidy from the state for her tuition at school.  We've apparently become so accustomed to our laid-back approach to life over here that this endeavor seems just maddening.  

I can honestly say this is the closest I've come to experiencing culture shock so far.  I know we've only been here three months, but my stunted ability to communicate is frustrating.  I've had seven years of instruction in the German language and at one point could carry on a decent, intelligent conversation.  My comprehension is adequate for the moment, but being able to say what I want (outside of ordering food) without sounding like an idiot or confusing someone else is a rarity.  Naturally, I force myself to do it anyway, knowing at some point it will get easier, but this mess of paperwork, in particular, has been making my head throb.

Hence, the cuddly dog. 

Thanks, God.  I get it.  Lay off the self-deprecating crap and go give that dog some scratches.

Luckily, I only have a few more emails to write and then most of this process has to be delayed until the end of the month (until we can get the necessary signatures).  And by that time I'll have my cocktail shaker.  Coincidence?  I think not.

While You Were Sleeping--Whispers From Your Mother

I think we redefined Lazy Sunday today. The front door, which is usually swinging open by 8am during the week remained locked until I left the house at 3pm for my coffee break.  Break from what, you ask?  I couldn't say.  Most of our day was lost in the Bermuda Triangle of Mad Hatter games, unending breakfasts and relentless tickle fights.

Now there are remnants of a most excellent pillow and blanket nest on our living room floor, playdough bits drying under the dining room table and an exhausted little girl slumbering, yet again, in my arms. I remember the day she was born, after she was weighed and measured, checked and rechecked...after the doctors and nurses finally left us the hell alone and I convinced my poor hubby to get some sleep on the sad excuse for a sleeper sofa in our hospital room.  I sat there looking at this crook-nosed, little being--so much like her sister before her, but with nearly invisible blonde eyebrows and lashes. I knew she was Bailey, but I couldn't stop staring at her face, whispering: "who are you, little one?"

There I sat for hours, etching the image of her sleeping face on my soul.  What else is there to do when meeting someone for the first time...someone who has been a part of you from their literal conception--formed with your own flesh and blood?  What is left to say when you find yourself unable to understand the mystery of who they are--who they will become?  I find myself in the same frame of mind every time this busy girl succumbs to the need of a resting place on her Mama's chest.  Who are you little one?  How have you grown so much in the blink of an eye?  Where is that runt of a baby without eyebrows?  When did you stop being a toddler and become a little girl?  Did it happen while you were sleeping?

She never answers.  She just keeps growing.  But I take comfort, knowing we are linked beyond the ties of mother and child.   I see the fire of my youth in her--the one my father gave to me. While Audrey is systematically testing the fence for weaknesses, her sister will knock down walls with proud brute strength.  So I keep this little Bear close to me--attachment parenting in the land of daycare and strollers--trying to impart to her with her every frustrated cry that I know her path--that she is understood. She is loved. She has a place.

And I tell her all this while she sleeps on my chest, growing into a little girl.  Will she know when she is a wild little lady, a crazy youth, how many hours I spent whispering to her sleeping ears?  You are mine. And I am yours. You, crazy, strong, loving child.

Thanks for this Blessed Life...or Just Another Friday

perfecting the art of sipping cocoa

It might have been a bad idea to let Bailey and me out on the town together.  Even on rainy days (or perhaps, especially, on rainy days) we find our way into some kind of adventure.  Some days it takes some time spent coloring and reading together before the day is deemed ready to start. Today the air was cold.  Getting ready, rolling out of bed and looking the day in the face took some effort--it called for leggings, for boots and slippery raincoats.  In the end we were greatly rewarded in our search for the best puddles from here to The Demel where Bailey received yet another lesson in the proper way to sip hot cocoa.  She flitted around from seat to seat in her sock-covered feet while we waited for our check.  Suited back up in our rain gear, we picked a surprise from The Demel shop for sister.  Even if she's not with us, we're still thinking of her.  Bailey insisted on carrying the lavender Demel bag the rest of the morning. We checked on the Lipizzaner horses and found them suiting up in a carriage.  Bailey shouts: "Fiaker! Fiaker! Ridin' a horsey!"

checking on her horses

She requests a ride on my belly and snuggles into me as we walk down new-found streets and old familiars on our way to the Museums Quartier.  By the time we're on the U-Bahn my baby is fast asleep.  People notice my wide load and make way, covert smiles on their faces.  I wonder what memories this girl's sweet sleeping face brings them.  We ride the train, we walk, we ride some more.  I kiss her head.  I smile to myself.

running around the UN fountain

She wakes up, ready to take on the world.  Demanding to splash through as many puddles as she can find on the way to find sister, her treasured surprise clutched all the while in her little fist. 

Sisters reunite!  There are smiles and hugs and kisses, stories and beaming smiles.  They share their chocolate surprise, because there's no way they could possibly wait.  Then it's time to run to see Papa at his work--down the streets and up the stairs, through security and around the fountain.  Sisters run to his big, strong arms, yelling: "Papa!  Papa!  I so glad a-see you!!"  We hug and kiss and maybe fit in a little lunch.  Papa lets his big girl pick out a book at the commissary called "Stories from the Ballet" and promises to be home soon.  We hug and kiss some more before running again into the rain, onto the train where we read about Romeo and Juliet, The Nutcraker and Swan Lake.  It is crowded and the entire train car is listening to our stories, looking at the pictures with my girls.  We hold hands, riding elevators and escalators, running to the trolley.  We make it home where we cuddle up for a movie.  Bailey asks for Pokey-hontas. We watch John Smith and Pocahontas fall in love and when I'm asked to make popcorn, I always say yes.

I'm finally getting this gas range thing down

We fill our afternoon with snuggles, reading books and playing silly games, counting down the minutes until our little foursome will be reunited for the weekend.

I wonder if these are the memories that will flow through my mind years from now when I smile at sleeping babes in their mothers' arms.  Will I remember the kisses and the popcorn?  The cocoa and the puddles?

This, Lord.  This is why I write.  When I am too old to remember, I want to be able to read this and know it is not a fairy tale about someone else's life. It is mine.  And You gave this to me--this blessed life. 

A Very Bailey Day

Outside Paulanerkirche

It hasn't even been two weeks yet, but Audrey's sudden entrance into preschool has already become an indisputable blessing.  Not only is my big girl learning and growing--happily testing her insecurities every day, but we have found ourselves on a new schedule that is proving rewarding for all of us.  John loves his time with Audrey every morning.  It is special. It is cherished--just as my mornings with Bailey have become.  It only seems fitting since Audrey got to have me entirely to herself before her little sister made her slam-bang entrance, that Bailey should get to have some Mama time too.  Obviously, my favorite times are ones I can spend with both of my girls, but there is something to be said for sitting on the floor, uninterrupted, cuddling with my youngest child for as long as she wants.  Bailey loves it too--having my undivided attention--and she takes full advantage of it.

Some days there are things we have to get done.  It'd be silly not to go to the grocery store when I only have one kid with me.  But I limit that to twice a week.  Every other day is filled strictly with Mama and Bailey time.  Which sometimes means she helps me clean the house.  Sometimes I cave and watch a movie with her.  Other days we spend the morning out of the house on a Bailey-inspired adventure. 

clang, clang clang went the trolleeeyyy!!!

This kid loves to have fun and I'm really enjoying discovering what her genuine interests are.  She loves movies and playing games on my iPhone (obviously--what kid doesn't, really?) She goes nuts when she sees playgrounds, but tends to stick to playing in the sand, with rocks, or in little Wendy houses.  She detests hand holding (even though Mama is sticking to her guns on that one), but she loves going on walks--discovering new things (like the dragon fountain a few blocks from our apartment) and now, our newest discovery: Street cars, trams, trolleys...whatever you call them, she loves 'em.

Which is what inspired our day out on the town Wednesday. We've been using the trams a lot more since the U-Bahn has been down and have subsequently been wondering if we could use some of the lines we've seen driving by as we wait for another. So instead of launching a simple internet search, Bailey and I capitalized on our free morning by taking a leisurely ride on line 1 of the city's trams, which goes around a fair part of the Ringstrasse and then into the woods of the Prater.  As most adventures go, it's important to prepare--or in our case, to fill our bellies with delicious pastry before hopping on the tram...out fear of starvation, obviously.  We sat on the benches in front of the Paulanerkirche and watched the trams go by while we ate.  The morning had called for thunderstorms, but the sky was clear and the sun was shining.  When we were done, we hopped on the number one tram--an older model of the Viennese street car with charming wooden seats and a higher view than the new (handicap-accessible!) ones. I find myself taken in by the romantic allure of these older street cars, but I can imagine I'd be cursing them if I were trying to get around with a stroller or wheelchair.

Best. Picture. Ever.

B always demands to have the window seat and her excitement was palpable as the tram took off.  We had an excellent view as we drove past some of my favorite Viennese sights and around to Schwedenplatz.  Things got less familiar as we drove down Lowengasse and across the Danube canal into the Prater Park where we turned around and went back on the same route.  I was really happily surprised with our outing--Bailey spent the entire time either talking about the sights or sweetly snuggling and playing with my hair.  I saw a fair bit of Vienna that I hadn't before (like Hundertwasserhaus!) and accomplished my goal of spending some quality, uninterrupted time with my little Bear.  After all that sitting, it was time to let my girl have some time to roam, so we stopped in the Burggarten and walked to the Butterlfly House where we restocked our supply of butterfly tattoos (the girls don't go a day without them).  I also let Bailey pick out a Butterfly necklace to give Audrey for her birthday.  Luckily, the kid tends to get distracted easily, so I don't think she'll remember well enough to spoil the surprise.  After our full morning we were in need of some sustenance and stopped for Bretzel and Wurstle at a stand nearby.  And when Bailey started asking sweetly for ice cream, I was too much of a softie to deny her.  You're only young once.

Our morning together was pretty phenomenal, but nothing compares to seeing these two sisters reunite.  They are so happy to see each other and Audrey is overflowing with news about her morning at preschool.  We chit chat all the way to the train and have a grand old time on the long journey back home.

Every day, I'm nearly brought to tears with feelings of overwhelming thankfulness.  I have no idea how any other period in my life is going to top this.  Which is why it's a good thing I'm not in charge.  In all of my happy disbelief is a budding realization that no matter what seemingly good or bad things befall us, God is faithful.  His design is more perfect than anything our silly human minds are capable of. And for that and a million other things, I am grateful. 

A Very Willian Sunday at the Kleines Cafe

Here's a visual for you...inspiration for the Gigi bird!

For anyone who really knows me, it is fairly obvious that outside my realm of parenting, there is absolutely no method to the madness. And I only make that caveat because my eldest daughter has forced me to remain consistently schedule oriented for the past (nearly) four years, lest her world should come crumbling apart.  On my own, I fly by the seat of my pants, letting shiny objects distract me as they please.  For these reasons and many more, I have received the monikers: Willian, Gigi, and Gigi-bird. So, when I refer to myself as any of those, I'm indicating that the situation was laced with unplanned, ill-advised spontaneous events.

So, as far as my systematic review of Vienna's coffee houses goes, I may have an overall goal to patronize every cafe whose name and address I have indiscriminately scribbled down on a piece of yellow legal pad paper (and maybe spilled food/coffee on...multiple times), but there is absolutely no order other than the whimsical musings of the Gigi bird ten minutes before leaving the house.  Which means that sometimes I end up walking to a cafe that isn't open...or changing my mind en route.  Sometimes I do all of the above in one afternoon.

It's amazing that John has been able to stand living with me for this long.

What I'm getting around to in true Willian fashion is that this Sunday was no different.  We were running behind (how does that happen when your to-do list has one item...and that item is: go to playground?) and I wanted to be back home before we started doing our video chats for the evening, so I picked the cafe on the list that was closest to home: Cafe Sperl.  I left the apartment feeling ready for my adventure.  And quickly realized it was going to rain...so I ran back up the stairs for my umbrella and THEN it was on!  The world was my oyster!  The route to Cafe Sperl is a familiar one since it sits on the opposite side of the Nashmarkt from us.  I walzed down the streets I have traversed so many times with my babies and smirked to myself thinking I'd just make it to Cafe Sperl in time to wait out the rain and pop back home before anyone even noticed I was missing.

Then I saw the sign.

The one that says Sperl is closed on Sundays in July and August. (I know you were just singing Ace of Base in your head.  You can admit it.) But no worries!  I'm flexible!  I'm spontaneous! I'd find another cafe!

Then the rain started.  And I had to chose between keeping my most excellent umbrella from flipping inside out or letting the general public see my rear since the accompanying wind was working double duty on my skirt. So I joined the crowds I had poked fun at weeks ago, standing under an awning with my umbrella clutched between my legs willing my suddenly flirty skirt into submission.  In the end, I was detained for maybe five minutes before the wind and rain let up enough to walk without clenching fabric to my legs and I headed towards the first district, knowing my best bet would be one of the bigger, more popular cafes I had previously vowed to avoid like the plague until the deserted dead of winter.

As I neared Cafe Mozart and the Sacher Cafe, I started giving myself a pep talk: "You can do this, Willian.  They're just tourists.  It'll be fine!  You'll totally be able to relax and enjoy yourself!" 

...I said as I skirted around them both and practically ran a full retreat down Kartnerstrasse.  I can't do it, you guys.  The Sacher Cafe isn't even written down on my piece of paper...it's just the reserve for when the pickin's get slim. 

The tiny Kleines Cafe

Instead, a stroke of genius hit me, in true Willian fashion.  Kleines Cafe is down a little-known side street near Stephansdom and it's name literally means "small cafe" almost all of their seating is outdoors...in the elements which had so recently been acting in my favor.  As I rounded on the cafe, I saw servers diligently wiping down the deserted outdoor seats and tables, but decided to peek inside to see if there was any chance one of the very few tables were free.  And fortune was on my side.  I scored a table squished so far into a corner that I doubt a child could've fit behind it...actually it was more of a small indentation on the wall next to the bar, but I plopped down and staked my claim.

The lengths I'll go to for a Grosser Brauner...

In the end, my coffee break was perfect.  This cafe is so small, so unassuming, so very Gigi.  It was almost too intimate for people watching, but you know me.  It's hard not to mimic a tree when you're shoved into a tight corner.  I eavesdropped on German and English conversations alike, savored my coffee and reluctantly headed back home.  The Kleines Cafe most definitely scored a place in my heart, even if I had to take a serendipitous route to get there.

Drinking my Grosser Brauner, squeezed behind the bar.

Tis the Season...For Construction

This might actually be a more efficient mode of transportation

I'm sure it's obvious from my last post that this weekend oscillated between sweltering heat and sweet, cool relief in the form of a smattering of rain storms.  Having come off of Audrey's first week of preschool, I think we all just wanted to focus on being together for the weekend.  There also happened to be some pretty major construction just starting on the U1 line of the U-Bahn...the line we use most frequently and also how John gets to work every day.  They've created two new tram lines to make up for the broad swath of Vienna that is now left without it's main form of public transportation, so getting around Vienna has just become more of an adventure.  Which is fine on the weekends, but not so much when you're trying to drop a kid off at preschool and still make it to work in a timely manner.  Audrey and John have gone from simply riding one line on the U-Bahn to walking to the tram stop, riding two stops, getting on the U2 line of the U-Bahn, Transferring back to the U1 where it picks up again and then walking to preschool.  It took 'em a full hour this morning.  Did I mention this construction is going on for almost two months?  Luckily, We'll be out of town at the end of the month and Audrey has a break from school when she gets back

Ruprechtskirche

So, because of all this construction hubub, Saturday we spent some time familiarizing ourselves with Vienna's tram lines and took a long walk in the city center.  I know we do this a lot, but we're still finding plenty of places we haven't been before.  And also lately, plenty of churches and cathedrals that we haven't yet been in.  Touring the interiors of these yet undiscovered churches has become a favorite activity for John and Audrey to do together.  I'm usually carrying or wearing Bailey any time we enter a church, in an attempt to have her be as quiet as possible. The Bear really has little patience for things that involve restraint, so naturally Mama Bear becomes chief-head-in-charge of keeping her in good form while Papa and Audrey drift around, ogling the decor and pausing to pray. John has a deep appreciation for the beauty of Gothic and Baroque churches and this city is overflowing with them; he has been really excited that this is something he can share with little A too. It just adds yet another dimension to how well Vienna becomes Audrey.

And while most of us (even playground-loving Bailey) have found some niches we truly love here, I have to admit we were all surprised to find an area of the city that none of us particularly cared for.  Saturday night we met up with one of John's coworkers for some sushi at a place on Mariahilfstrasse--aside from the pedestrian areas of the first district, this is Vienna's main (and busiest) shopping street.  I guess it goes without saying that if you find a walk through the mall agonizing, that a street full of hipsters and youngun's practically trampling small children in an effort to make others think they look cool will produce the same result.  Luckily, once we traversed the crowds and found an outdoor table at Dot's Experimental Sushi, we soon forgot our lingering disgust with blatant consumerism. 

Dot's was kind of surprising (if not questionably named), but had come highly recommended by some of John and Greg's Japanese coworkers.  We ordered drinks and then acquiesced when our server offered to create a sushi platter suitable for three people.  It was really an interesting mix of traditional nigiri/sashimi and innovative rolls (like the pink Hello Kitty Roll--any takers?)  We really enjoyed our dinner and the girls were being so good we even opted to linger over some coffee after we were done.  Despite some sticker shock (this is trendy Vienna, so it's not terribly surprising) and some initial jokes about the restaurant name, I'll go ahead and give this place my sushi-seal-of-approval.

What I thought The Bear was doing...the rebel.

I have no idea how long we were there, but it was well after bed time when we got home. John and I rushed to get the girls in bed in a lame attempt to preserve our new 'early to bed, early to rise' schedule.  I've been waking up at 6am every day, so you can bet I was ecstatic when I woke up at 8:30 Sunday morning and couldn't even hear the girls stirring.  I figured the munchkins could use the rest if they were already sleeping in so late, so I sat in bed checking my email until I started hearing little squeaks and banging noises from the hallway.  I guessed the window in the kitchen had just come unlatched, so imagine my surprise when I realized the noise had actually been Bailey opening her bedroom door. She came toddling into our bedroom, not just looking for Mama and Papa, but with my old iPhone in her hand, demanding: "Mama, you help me?".

It turns out Audrey (at God knows what time) helped pull Bailey out of her GoCrib to come snuggle with her in bed.  We use my old phone as a 'sound machine' to play rain sounds on a loop while they're sleeping, but apparently during their 'snuggling', they disconnected it from the charger and played games together instead.  How rebellious!  I know there are people out there with far more independent children than ours, but this was a huge deal for them.  John and I laughed about it all morning.  The shocking sight of B waddling into our bedroom with my phone in her hand still makes me bust up days later. I think John and I just found a way to sleep in on the weekends! Considering my parents used to leave out popcorn as bait for my siblings and I on weekend mornings, this tactic is probably old news to quite a few of you seasoned parents.

Sand!  At last!

Our Sunday was as lazy as they come.  The girls had chastised us Saturday night for not taking them to a playground (I know, a day without a playground--the horror!), so we took them for a picnic lunch at the Augarten and came home in time for my coffee break and a few video chats in the evening.  We do have a big adventure planned at the end of the month for Audrey's birthday, but for the most part, after nearly three months, we're still content to hob nob around Vienna.  This place has so much to take in, I doubt we will be able to leave feeling we have seen all there is to see.  Some weekends we don't even really try, but we still know we're living the dream.

Peace in the Storm

I have always loved, if not fearfully respected thunderstorms. Having really been too young to remember any of the near-tornadoes I encountered while living in Illinois as a little girl, I soon learned to love the feel of reverberating thunder in the woods of Arkansas coupled by the sound of a million rain drops hitting their mark on the leaves of the forest. I counted seconds between the flash and inevitable booming din that rattled every dish in the China cabinet. I yearned, even then, to be a part of the storm, often coming to watch it's progress across the fingers of the lake from the excellent vantage point of the open porch of my childhood home.
 
After spending the majority of my life in tornado alley, I spent over four years without thunder. I can count on one hand how many times I sat in our home in kennewick waiting with baited breath for the faint echoing boom that would follow each feeble strike.  It is soon learned that in the desert, lightening equates fire, regardless of the accompanying rain. It seems I've never been able to encounter the stuff without heeding the possible hazardous outcomes of being too near a lightening strike. 

Now here in Vienna, I find my soul soothed by the frequent, if short-lived, thunderstorms. Here it has not unceasingly rained for days as it does in the Midwest states, but rather, one soon develops a sixth sense for identifying the feel of calm stagnant air preceding what will soon become whipping, unpredictable winds, fat plopping drops of rain...and the thunder...oh, the thunder. It is so different here.  It trips over row after row of hulking buildings like a line of dominoes slowly making their descent. There is comfort in knowing that there will be no home-wrecking cyclones or choking wildfires left in its wake. The thunder here is big and loud and safe. Instead of tenderly clinging to each boom like it may be the last I hear for years, I find I take comfort in knowing the fickle stuff will soon shake me to the heart again, waking me in the middle of the night.

I may be living in the city, but my feet will always be anchored in the country--connected to the earth. During these storms I feel my Maker bringing me closer to home--whispering to my heart: How great is your God! This is His creation.  I don't let the concrete man-made jungle deceive me; the echos of creation are in every thundering roar. And I find Vienna is where it brings me the most peace.

Happy Friday--Now What Do We Do?

The Bear's main mode of transportation

We've made it through a full week of our new schedule and things are already starting to feel normal.  It helps that Audrey is much more flexible than I give her credit for.  John and Audrey leave together every morning at 8am and hold hands on the way to school.  Bailey and I finish eating breakfast (something that takes an incredible amount of time) and tidy up the house a bit or sit and read books before heading out on our adventure.  Adventures usually entail something Mama needs to get done and searching out a park, playground or spot of nature that Bailey can explore all on her own. In the fall, we'll be enrolling her in some music classes so she can interact with more kids her own age, but for now she's pretty darn happy with herself.  We usually come home for lunch and then head out to pick up Audrey.

Bailey chasing pigeons outside Karlskirche

What has shocked me the most about all this solo time with Bailey is how much of a positive influence she has on basically everyone she encounters. And the shocking part is not that people like her, but how MANY people just open up.  Her jolly demeanor seems to charm anyone we see in the store, on the train or even waiting for the elevator.  I cannot count how many smiles she has put on people's faces this week.  She makes friends wherever she goes and its all through her cute sly smiles, her flippy skirts and pigtails, her easy chatty ways  or the inexplicable way she reaches out to pat a stranger on the shoulder like she knows with a wisdom far beyond her years that person is in need of a lift. I'm in continuous awe how God uses children to bring joy into the world; being able to see it first hand is just an unspeakable blessing.

And we haven't even made it half way through our day yet.

Taking a pastry break on the way home

Audrey has been doing really well in school.  Her teachers say that she's opening up more--talking (at least with them) and playing more freely with things in the classroom and playground.  She thrives during circle time (when they read books or dance to music) and is a bouncing ball of enthusiasm when we come pick her up.  On our walk home, she regales us with tales from her day at preschool, most of it, a bunch of whoppers about going down the big slide on the playground or the names of kids (all from her old preschool class) who she talked with about her sister and her mama.  It's good, though and we indulge her because some day she'll work up the courage to do everything her imagination is capable of. 

Most afternoons we come home and watch a movie, then spend the rest of our day playing and cleaning up, waiting for Papa to come through the door so we can pepper him with kisses.

Today we're watching The Sound of Music and getting a light dinner ready so we can celebrate the coming weekend in style on our big walk downtown.  The girls are singing the words to Edelweiss.  I could cry it makes my heart swell so much.

And it reminds me: as I was walking out of our apartment this morning, I saw a man wearing a shirt that said: "We're happy.  Now what do we do?" and I couldn't help but laugh.

We are happy.  Not much can change that as long as we've got each other.

What we do now is enjoy it.

And, are we ever.

School Days!

Bailey isn't one to be left out!

So, Monday was the big day--one of the biggest since we've moved here.  I know I'm making a big deal out of sending Audrey to school, but for her, it is BIG. If this were Bailey's first day, it would be a much different story...something along the lines of: So, I dropped off Bailey and went to get a coffee.  The end.

Her big sister does not adapt quite so easily; she is slow and cautious--observant and meticulous. For a baby who had to be trained how to self soothe, she has come a very long way.  She has overcome enough fears and hurdles that I feel she is ready to take on attending preschool without her Mama's interference five days a week.  Now it's time for her to realize she's ready too.

I never believed in the meaning of names before I became a mother.  My own name means 'youthful', which seems a pleasant way to call someone childish.  But Audrey's name means 'noble strength' and at the mature age of (nearly) four, she has already fulfilled it's meaning.  This kid may be shy and stand-offish, but she knows it.  And she willingly faces her fears. Every. Day.  Because she already understands the pride and confidence that comes from overcoming obstacles. So, for a kid like Audrey, preschool is a hotbed of intimidating experiences.  And every time she overcomes one, the look of pride she has on her face when relaying it to me is indescribable.

That's why it's a big deal.

Walking with Papa--soon to be their normal routine

I woke up early Monday to make sure breakfast was ready before it was time to roll the munchkins (and the Hubs) out of bed.  I actually had to wake my kids up at 7am, which feels so wrong, but they were excited enough to embrace the coming day.  We all got ready in an incredible amount of time (considering the leisurely pace we normally set) and the entire fam set out the door to take Audrey to preschool.

Normally, John will take Audrey with him on the way to work, but for the first few days I've had some stuff to go over with the teachers before school. So, we took the train to the same stop John uses for work and walked about ten minutes to get to her preschool. Once we arrived, Audrey's hands went straight to her mouth. (fingers in her mouth are nearly the only nervous tick she has left).  She has special 'house shoes' to wear while she's in school and she hung up her brand new backpack next to her symbol, which is a butterfly.  We talked with her teachers and, after some coaxing, convinced her to sit with some kids to color.  Then we all gave her hugs and kisses and left. I could almost see her mentally shoring up her courage.  Noble strength, that girl has.  

Mama and B drown our sorrows in apple juice

I, on the other hand, basically spent the rest of the time we were away from her trying to convince myself that she'd be fine--that this was the Lord's plan and that He was taking care of her.  Boy, that is a slice of humble pie if there ever was one. Bailey and I wandered to the bakery down the street and lingered over some muffins before heading back home to run errands.  It was Monday, after all, and that meant there was absolutely no food in the house.  Bailey was incredibly lovey with me all morning; I can tell she's going to get a lot out of these mornings together, but she was more than ready to go get sister when the time rolled around.  I had to keep myself from power walking to the school--I'll admit I was anxious to see how Little A had fared.

When we got there, Audrey's class was out on the playground; she saw us walking past and absolutely lit up.  She and Bailey had an incredibly cute reunion...and then B promptly disappeared into the huge playground while I talked to Audrey's teachers.  All the reports were that she did really well--she colored and played with little animal figurines.  They said she did the best during 'circle time' when they sit together to sing and read books and that she seemed bored once they had been in the playground for a bit.  But I knew better. 

Audrey told a totally different story.  As we walked home, she animatedly bragged that she had made some new friends--that she said "Audrey!" when they asked her name.  She relayed a bunch of conversations she had with her teachers and told me her red hair tie had broken (the horror!), that a girl had pushed her and that a boy had taken her book, but both times the teachers corrected the other chld. I can tell this is going to be a lot of practice in acclimating her to normal kid behaviors, although I doubt she will ever retaliate with more than a scathing glance. When I asked if she liked it and wanted to go back again, her immediate answer was: yes.  So, I guess we're on the right track!  Now the trick is getting used to our new routine...and I'm referring to Bailey and me. We know school is good for Audrey, but we miss her and I doubt that is ever really going to change.



 

Alone in Vienna--My Sunday Coffee Break

The Gamelin Family tends to live by the motto: Celebrate early and often. (The females in the family also are afflicted with the irrational fear that our loved ones will starve to death between meals.) So, while I'm not crazy about having others acknowledge my birthday, you can bet I'm milking it for all it's worth in my own little world.  My family also has a policy that an individual is at liberty to play the 'It's my birthday' card until the next family member's birthday.  (This is like house rules in Monopoly, so play along, ok?)

Riding the carousel at The Prater

This means, I've got almost all of July until Audrey gets to start raking in the birthday spoilage.  It also means even though I went out almost all morning on my birthday, I still got to take my Sunday coffee break (birthday bonus!!) We had spent our morning at The Prater gawking at the rides (A & B were especially enamored of one that they thought resembled a dragon.  There was lots of defensive roaring going on), so I was ready for some more mellow entertainment once the afternoon rolled around.

Cafe Griensteidl

This time I found myself at Cafe Griensteidl lingering at the dessert display case.  And apparently I'm destined to gravitate towards whichever Viennese sight is currently a personal obsession, because if Cafe Griensteidl were any closer to The Hofburg, it would be swallowed up by it. Located in St. Michael's square, The Griensteidl sits near one of my favorite fountains (adorning The Hofburg), excavated roman ruins and the noted Loos Haus, which was apparently deemed so grotesque by Franz Josef that he refused to enter or exit the palace through St. Michael's square.  Amidst all this, I found respite in the Griensteidl over a melange and some topfenstrudel.  To be quite honest, nothing of particular note struck me from this cafe.  It is beautiful and well situated, the service was above reproach--my coffee and cake left nothing to be desired...everything expected was provided...except at little extra umph, perhaps?  I wouldn't turn my nose up at a repeat visit, but the Griensteidl failed to capture my heart.  Luckily there are still close to twenty cafes on my list left to visit.  I'm sure one of them at least will fit the bill. 

St. Augustine's Church

I was not left wanting on this particular afternoon out, however.  I decided to stop in to view the Augustinian church...something that literally has been swallowed up by The Hofburg Palace.  It was originally built in the 14th century as a free standing building, but now is a part of the Palace complex.  This is where marriage ceremonies for the Royal Habsburgs were preformed--some worthy of note being the marriage between Maria Theresa and Duke Francis of Lorainne as well as Franz Josef's marriage to Empress Sisi.  In 1810 Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte married Archduchess Marie Louise here as well. And aside from the historic ceremonies held here, the hearts of the Habsburg rulers are held here in silver urns.  You would expect a place so rich in history to be rocking.  But I was the only one there.

The only one.

In this gorgeous church.  With some very famous body parts and lingering hints of grandeur laying about.

This was the first time I have been alone in Vienna...completely alone...and I'm including my own apartment in this. The Augustinian Church, of all places is where I find true solitude.

No idea how long I stood and stared at this

Dear Vienna, you never cease to astound, amaze and absolutely floor me.

And Now For Something Completely Different

Somebody hold me.  My big girl is starting preschool on Monday.

I know.  'Sudden' doesn't even begin to describe it.

My little solitary artist...and her beloved heart shaped mirror

I have been DRAGGING. MY. FEET. on this issue since before we even moved....not to mention the myriad of conflicting emotions we've gone through on the topic, there were several things we had to consider about schooling for the girls in a foreign country.

Austrian preschools have been out of the question from the beginning, so we've been looking into bilingual and English-speaking preschools.  There are quite a few to choose from, but most of them only take full time positions, meaning Monday through Friday from 8am to 3-ish.  I wanted to cry just thinking about it.  I actually like hanging out with my kids all day.  This is the best job I've ever had and I don't actually feel the need to take a break from it. So, having someone else take care of them all day, nearly every day just seems coo-coo-banana-crackers to me. 

But here's the problem; I am not capable of homeschooling them.  Not only is Audrey as stubborn as a mule when her Mama tries to teach her new things, but I have no ability to stay on task.  I transition far too quickly from lessons in phonetics to 'why don't we make popcorn!'.  And the absolute clincher for us is that Audrey needs and loves interaction with other kids.  She is incredibly shy and introverted, but she truly enjoys being around others--to observe them and mimic what they do.  She also learns very quickly when her mother is not involved in her instruction.

Wearing her new backpack...cool kid shades required

So, over the course of observing all this, we decided, ultimately, the decision was up to God--when and where Audrey would be accepted into preschool.  And He dropped it on our laps this week.  We were fortunate enough to find an English-speaking school near John's work that offers half day positions.  And not only are they half days, but they are ridiculously flexible.  As long as we have Audrey there on time in the morning, I can basically come pick her up whenever I want.  They also said if it's a nice day and we'd rather go to the beach than preschool, a lot of parents pull their kids out for that too.  So, since it was well established that we would be able to live with and adapt to the amount of time Audrey will be spending there, we just had to make sure that we liked the facilities and their curriculum...which we do.  Outside of the actual curriculum, what I was most impressed by is that the kids spend time outside every day.  Rain, or shine. (There is an indoor gym and a covered play area that serve for rainy days.) They even have you bring snow suits during really cold weather so the kids can play in the snow.   They often take trips to the nearby Donau Park and have field trips to different venues around Vienna. One thing is for sure: Audrey is going to have a lot of fun.  And that's pretty much the only reason I'm ok with this sudden transition. 

I'm sure Bailey and I will have some anxiety the first week or two, but this is good for us too.  B has been having some difficulties with communication lately that I really think will benefit from my undivided attention and once she gets a bit older, we'll probably send her to the same preschool.

Papa gives the girls a lift

Although, truth be told, that makes me start hyperventilating a bit...I have no idea what I would do without both of my babies in the mornings.  I wished I could have free time when they were itty bitties and I was sleep deprived, but now I would just feel robbed of my sense of purpose.

As it is, we're looking forward to the coming week--to seeing how we all adapt to this new development.  And our weekend?  Has been spent loving on each other.  There's a sense that we're  moving into a new season of life with this transition.  Not good or bad--just different.  And that makes us want to cling to the familiarity of each other a bit more than usual.  There have been lots of snuggles, hugs and kisses, hand holding and the like.  We are battening down the hatches for the newness that something so seemingly simple as preschool can bring into our lives.