Mary Poppins Has Got Nothin' on Me

I'm coming to think of my weekly solo adventures as my Mary Poppins break--except instead of every second Tuesday, I get every Sunday afternoon off.  Anyone who finds me an umbrella with a parrot-head handle gets a high five and a free night on the sleeper sofa.  (seriously--this thing needs to be broken in.  We've had it over a week now...and never mind that it's free anyway.)

Cafe Museum: The closest thing to home...literally.

Today I was running a bit later than usual and didn't want to spend that much time out of the house.  We had had so much fun at the museum this morning and the girls weren't taking naps, so I decided to hit up something close to home...which turns out to be a place called Cafe Museum.

hmmm...that cauliflower looks extra crunchy

This cozy cafe is mere blocks from the Secession building (nicknamed 'The Golden Cauliflower' for it's unorthodox crowning glory) and the Staatsoper; it has been in operation since 1899 and, after several interior renovations, is now is decorated in it's original form: a minimalistic, simplistic design that differed greatly from the overly ornate cafes that were so popular when it first opened.  Unsurprisingly, like any Viennese cafe that has managed to remain in operation through two world wars, it was a popular hang out for many aspiring and successful artists (like Gustav Klimt), writers, and architects (Otto Wagner was known to grace the cafe regularly with his presence).

A table with a view

Outside of hopes for some fantastic cake, I  had no real expectations when I first stepped in, but I found a table near the back of the cafe and ordered a big Melange and some topfen torte.  Soon after Herr Manfred (I did not make that up) brought me my coffee, a woman waltzed in, strode past my table and, entirely without ceremony, began playing the piano directly behind me.  It was lovely; everything from Mozart to Moon River floated through my head as, from my excellent vantage point, I watched the tables fill to bursting-- the Herr Obers waltzing around each other with a silver tray (or two) in each hand, efficiently delivering coffee and sweets to the cafe's many appreciative patrons, most of whom had their noses stuck in their guide books or the newspapers supplied by the cafe on traditional wooden spindles.

empty plate, full heart

In the end, I didn't spend as much time out of the house as I usually do, but I did have time to savor my cake--to savor some time spent with my Lord and Savior, with nothing but my own thoughts to distract me.

I doubt Mary Poppins had anything on her every-other-Tuesday that rivaled this...magical expanding carpet bag and all.   

Museums on the Menu

Rainy days aren't getting us down.  We had a smattering of beautiful weather this week before returning to the regularly scheduled rain/sun/thunder/wind/more rain saga.  We were planning on taking a day trip out to Baden this Saturday to do a bit of hiking, but the forecast made us put it off for another weekend.  Instead, we took the opportunity to knock a few more museums off our list.

That's one gorgeous arsenal, Vienna.

Saturday morning we headed to the Heeresgeschictliches museum (say that three times fast) also known as the Viennese Military History museum.  This had the potential to be an incredible bore, if it weren't for three very important factors: First, the museum is housed in an immaculately designed arsenal built in the mid 1800's--quite a new building for Vienna's standards. The museum was actually part of the original design, making it the oldest (and largest) purpose-built military museum in the world.  Second, the layout and quality of the items on display were really impressive--even for my two and nearly-four year-old, who are now experts on these kinds of things.  Third, and most importantly, this museum has on display the car that Archduke Francis Ferdinand was riding in when he was assassinated in Sarajevo...along with his blood-stained uniform (complete with bullet hole) and the couch on which he died.  I know it sounds morbid, but it was so very cool to see these items connected to an event that has intensely shaped our history.  John was over the moon.  Our trip there was worth every Euro penny and I highly recommend a trip to the Heeresgeschichtliches museum to anyone even remotely interested in the history of Austria and their military.

The world's worst picture ever taken of this historic vehicle

Look, Auntie Barb!  Camels!!!

Sunday promised to be yet another dreary day, so after a repeat performance of John's epic story-telling game, we took the girls to a museum that is much more kid friendly and doesn't involve elephant-sized guns: The Natural History Museum, which is home to over 25 million artifacts and specimens.  This basically makes it the world's greatest stuffed animal display.  The museum is overwhelmingly open to kids (which is kind of a rarity in Vienna), the building itself is a work of art, but the amount of stuff to see is just mind blowing.  The girls went nuts running through all the displays before they started to turn into hyper hypos.  We booked it to Nautilus, the cafe housed in the building, and were impressed by the quality of the cuisine. We even ordered a banana split that came decorated as a ship.  But you know what the best part was for me?  (aside from a life-size recreation of a dodo bird) There were so many kids...being kids: screaming, being walked to sleep in their strollers, exclaiming loudly over displays, knocking glasses over.

Angels!! Come winter, we're moving into this place.

Ever since our experience with the crabby downstairs neighbor at our temporary apartment, I've been hypersensitive to the amount of noise my children produce.  I try not to ride them too hard about it, but I always feel more comfortable when someone else's kid is misbehaving or screaming in public.  It's an odd soothing presence...and the Natural History Museum was oozing with it.  I think year passes are in our future--I'll be more than happy to pass the long winter in the company of an automated T-Rex and a cafe serving ice cream with a side of screaming babies.

My Love Letter to You

My mind has been buzzing since I read a post last night on 'The Weed' about a man who is openly homosexual and happily married to a woman.  For the full story, take some time to read his entire post--there's no way I could sum up the eloquence of his words. But it's not the rightness or wrongness of homosexuality that has absorbed me, this post has me meditating on something much more important--love...and the overwhelming deep multifaceted meanings of that one simple word. 

One of the tattoos I've marked my body with (which is a post for another day) is the Hebrew word 'Hesed', which is the singular word meant to encompass God's eternal, reciprocal loving kindness.  One word...for something so big.  Love is an enormous concept and to limit it is to limit a relationship with The Ultimate Creator.

Through the beating of my heart today, I've heard nothing but love...love for my children, for my husband--my best friend, for the woman across from me on the train, for my family...which honestly encompasses all of you.  I am overflowing with love, my friends...my brothers and sisters.

The bottom line is this:  I don't care if you know me or not.  If you follow this blog or find it on a random google search.  I don't care if you are gay or straight, whether you breastfeed your babies or not...whether you are mormon, christian, atheist or are simply lost.

I love you.

Unconditionally.

As I love my children, as I love my brother and my sister.

There is nothing you could do that could make me love you less.

That's all I have for today...just one small word, but oh, so much. 

Living in Vienna: Lifting the House Arrest

We've really been out enjoying Vienna this week.  The last several weeks have been divided between waiting at home for deliveries and trying to stay out of the rain...which is silly when you think about how much the girls enjoy gallivanting in puddles. So, this week we've embraced the mercurial weather and tend to just leave the house with rain coats.  We've been getting a lot done and seeing more of the city.

Pausing to plan the next Shenanigan

We even met up with our friends to check out an Orangery near The Kagran U-Bahn station.  (We needed to get the kids out of the house but being able to seek immediate shelter was also a high priority)  As it turned out, our timing was perfect; the girls loved running through the rows of flowers and the winding paths through all kinds of trees and dense foliage.  There were even operating beehives and an outdoor wood burning oven...where Meg and I were contemplating coming to bake our own loaves of bread.  But, considering they booted us off the grass when we attempted to have a picnic, I think the stick-in-the-mud groundskeepers would frown on that. (I'm still confused about this, by the way, since we were only a few yards from picnic tables and there were public trash receptacles nearby.  I asked the lady if we could eat in the park and she said 'no'. She told me it was a 'closed park' and answered in the affirmative when I asked if we needed to leave.) Oh, Austrians, you never cease to confuse me. So in an act of rebellion, we wandered around for another good 45 minutes letting the girls run and scream, until the skies started threatening to open up in an absolute downpour.

Cantankerous gardeners ain't gonna get me down, but I know better than to be in an open field when lightening starts.  

Nine years since I last saw this lady

Luckily, it looks like we'll have a bit of a break from the crazy cyclical rainstorms; yesterday was one of the nicest days we've had in recent memory and I got to meet up with a friend from High School; a gal I haven't seen since I graduated. (which we both attributed to never being in Walmart at the same time...this is how people in small towns 'visit' each other).  Kim is married to another school mate of mine and they have recently moved to England.  Imagine our  mutual surprise when she went on a short tour of Europe and discovered we would be in the same place...about a million miles away from our small home town. She was traveling with a group of friends and we all met up for lunch at a place called Gasthaus Pfudl.  The food and the service were great and I cannot tell you how nice it was to be able to honestly catch up with someone I haven't seen in ages.  It probably helps that Kim is one of the most genuinely friendly people I know, but it was a fantastic lunch.

Afterwards, we all walked together to Stephansdom, which, from the outside looks like many a huge, towering Gothic monstrosity (particularly to people who have traveled across Europe). But I cannot tell you how giddy it made me to hear others confirm what I think every time I walk through it's doors. When the group walked into the cathedral and took a moment to gasp in awe, I just wanted to scream: "I know, Right?!?!"  I can only use so many words in an attempt to describe the place, but there is nothing like being able to stand in the colorful shadows of it's stained glass, to realize the depth of countless details...to smell the remnants of a million burnt candles.  There are cathedrals...and then there is Stephansdom.  I felt like a proud mother hen. 

And as I walked home (carrying both of my worn out girls) it sunk in: I LIVE here.  I'm fighting every day to be accepted by these people.  And I know why they're proud; they've got an amazing thing going here and not just anybody is allowed to take ownership of it.  This is the first time I've found myself desiring to be able to say I'm proud of where I'm living, but I'm destined to be a transient resident. At least I've got all that cake and coffee to console myself. 

Notes from The Dragon & Her Gunniwolf Sister

It occurred to me last week that I am the only one who really gets to hear about the highlights directly from Audrey and Bailey's Days; not even John is really privy to what we talk about before they go to sleep.  So, since so many of you are far away, I thought making a weekly habit of posting their journal entries might be a nice way to keep track of the girls: what their priorities are, the turns of phrase they so often use and basically how fantastically hysterical they can be.  Bear in mind, I only really expect a handful of people to genuinely appreciate it, but I figured this was as good a form of media as any.  (All stuff in parentheses is edited by yours truly)

Bailey's most common facial expression

May 31st
Bailey's favorite thing: Mama watchin' a movie!  I see my friends.  Terrence--that's my favorite.  Mama, I love bad guys. (Oy...where do I even start with that one)
Prayer: Thank you, this day. Watch over my friends. Watch over my goat.  Amen.
Audrey's favorite thing: Playing with my friends--having fun with them.
Thankful for: my cozy bed...mmhmmm.  It's very comfy.
Prayer: for your long hair, for my cute little Bailey

June 1st
Bailey's favorite thing: I playin' my Papa!
Thankful for: playin' my Audrey--playin' with her.
Prayer: for goin' with you in my jacket in the rain
Audrey's favorite thing: getting ice cream--seeing those guys with the hats playing (saxophone)

This girl loves flowers

Thankful for: myself--for me picking flowers
Prayer: Bailey--for playing with me

June 2nd
Bailey's favorite thing: watchin' a movie; Tinkerbell was special. Tinkerbell on my jammies.
Thankful for: Uncle Joe (She looks through her "Joe Book" every day)
Prayer: for Audrey
Audrey's favorite thing: playing with Bailey--coloring with her and playing with her.
Thankful for: Bailey said a crazy part--when we went on that train where we sit down. (I have no idea what this means)
Prayer: for fairies--about Tinkerbell that's on Bailey's jammies...and for Snowin' (That's the name Bailey gave her sheep...also occasionally called 'goat')

Sisters!

June 3rd
Bailey's favorite thing: Playin' my Papa
Thankful for: Audrey playin' with me.
Prayer: for my Papa
Audrey's favorite thing: Playing with my Dada.
Thankful for: my sister--coloring with her and coloring pictures for her
Prayer: for Audrey to make good choices--maybe I'll eat my dinner...when nap time is over. (Audrey insists that sleeping...even at night is referred to as 'napping')

June 4th
Bailey's favorite thing: Playin' my Papa
Thankful for: Audrey
Prayer: for Mama
Audrey's favorite thing: getting to play with Papa when he got home.
Thankful for: Bailey--for her picking flowers with me and about shiny shoes and about flowers that go on shoes.  And for your long hair.
Prayer: for Audrey picking flowers with Bailey

June 5th
Bailey's favorite thing: ummm....watch a movie....Playin' my Papa.
Thankful for: A bible story...read a bible story...Audrey read a bible story
Prayer: playin' a-Audrey
Audrey's favorite thing: Playing with my friends--running with my friends.
Thankful for: all of the fishes that go in the water and about your long hair.
Prayer: for all of the books.

I love this sweet child

So Happy Together; A Weekend Update

In answer to my usual nightly query today, both girls answered that their favorite thing was: "Playing with my Papa"...and that pretty much sums up our weekend.

The End!

I honestly have no idea what's going on here...but it looks epic

There's no way I'd let you get off that easy.  But, in all seriousness, our weekend has involved practically nothing but focusing on our little foursome and having a heck of a good time.  Early Saturday morning, as I was taking one of my showers where I get to use up all the hot water and not worry about what the girls are destructing while temporarily unsupervised, John organized what has become one of the most epic story lines involving every single toy the girls have in the house and also a wooden castle (accompanying royalty included) that he brought home as a surprise Friday night.

The 'fire prison' and recently raided food storage house...tragic

When we eventually pried ourselves away from Never Never Land, we were much later than we would've liked to have been out the door.  For once I was able to blame our tardiness on something other than myself--it wasn't because I was blow drying my hair for the first time that week, but because we could not drag our kids away from their incredible imaginary world. And why would we want to?  But, Papa needed new suits, so we persevered through a trip to the mall...and picked up the story line as soon as we were home again--The evil Mad Hatters must be stopped!

The Ankeruhr with Maria Theresa and Prince Eugene of Savoy

Sunday morning was basically a repeat of Saturday except we eventually managed to get out of the house for a walk.  I've been  wanting to see the Ankeruhr at noon since we got here and things just haven't worked out right until today.  The Ankeruhr is a clock that was built between 1911 and 1917 using plans from the artist Franz von Matsch.  The clock is actually situated on a bridge that connects the Anker Insurance buildings and, especially considering the construction and renovation going on around it, does not stand out at all.  I still couldn't help but be drawn in by the detail and charmed by the twelve figures who slowly progress across the face at noon to music representing different time periods in Vienna. While most people who had gathered started to drift away after two or three of the figures had passed, we stayed for the duration and I really enjoyed getting to sit and talk with the girls about every aspect of it--to see the Ankeruhr through the eyes of my littles.

Picnic at Stadtpark

After exploring some more, we settled on a picnic lunch in Stadtpark, where the girls collected pine cones and gawked at the giant coy fish in the pond.  We're still trying to keep our little monsters on a fairly consistent schedule, so after getting them settled back down at home for naps, I headed back out for my Sunday afternoon break.

This week my little adventure, in a word, was: different. I have been sticking close to home for the past two weeks and was really looking forward to some time to be able to walk on my own and explore without having to worry about anyone else's stomach, bowels or state of mental health. I took the U-Bahn to Karlsplatz, walked past the Opera toilet and up to the Staatsoper, where I began my journey.  In all of our exploring we haven't actually stepped foot yet in quite a few of Vienna's districts and I wanted to get a feel for some of them.  After walking past some old familiars, I headed straight up to the 9th district, and back down and around to the Ring through the 8th...and while that may sound like a brief or direct route in print, in actuality, I was bumming around for over an hour.  I didn't take a lot of pictures because I was content to just take it in without breaking out the camera, but it was nice to get out of my usual first district haunts and to stalk what basically felt like other people's neighborhoods...fabulous Viennese neighborhoods, albeit, but homey all the same.  

The Votivekirche

As I was rounding back on the Staatsoper, it started to rain and I've never been so thankful that Audrey always insists I carry 'her' umbrella in my bag, because what started out as drips and drops, in true Viennese fashion, was soon a total downpour.  I wasn't really ready to head back home yet, but I knew any cafe that I easily spotted in the first district would now be completely packed with tourists dodging the rain...so I settled on what was easy and familiar and relatively unknown to the teeming masses: Cafe Hawelka.

What took me by shock was that while I had been thinking ahead to where I was going, I wasn't fully prepared for where everyone else would be...or rather not.

 EVERYONE had abandoned the sidewalks and was seeking shelter under the nearest eve, cafe umbrella or awning.  No one was walking--even the people with umbrellas were standing back, waiting.  All these people previously flooding the streets, taking the same picture of themselves in front of the same *insert tourist attraction here* were now forced to stop and watch...namely: ME.  As I sauntered down a deserted Kartnerstrasse under my umbrella with a hundred pairs of eyes trained on me.  It was an eery flip for someone so used to spending her Sunday afternoons mimicking trees or blending in with the crowd.  And I couldn't help but laugh--to smile knowingly at our ice cream man as I passed his booth and to grin at all the people forced to do what I chose to do at least once a week: STOP...Watch..Take a break.   

Miraculously, I found plenty of free tables when I got to Cafe Hawelka and I sank comfortably into it's dimly-lit interior for the first time. It was also the first time I've felt I really earned my Sunday afternoon break; I could've drowned in my coffee and I had to restrain myself from inhaling my cake...which I didn't even pause to photograph. After I took a breath and a moment to think--having already aired all my my errant, miscellaneous thoughts during my walk--my mind turned to home. I missed my girls.  I knew they were probably starting to wake up from naps by then and I wanted to kiss their sleepy heads. I didn't want to sit and savor anything for one more minute, I wanted my babies.  

Sleepy girls...my absolute favorite

So just like that, I was off, and that's something that's new here too--when I leave the house for my little adventures, sooner or later I find myself really wanting to go back home.  I miss being with my girls even though we're spending more time together here than we did before we moved; we are living in each other's pockets and it's where we want to be.  That just makes my heart happy.  It was a good weekend, and no matter what it brings, this will be a good week because we have each other--it is my slice of joy to cling to.  What is yours?

Called to Communion

When life gets hectic or monotonous or frustrating, I find when I choose to take a mental break--to not allow my emotions (good or bad) steamroll me--I find some fragment of joy to lift me up.  Some of the memories clinging to my heartstrings this week happened when I knew I was not getting it right and others flowed smoothly in easy, overwhelming gladness.  I know, especially since we've moved to Vienna, that I've been seemingly hyped up on this joyful high.  But it's not Vienna--living here sure helps, but that's not the whole story. And I'm not actually constantly walking around with rainbows shooting out of my nether regions.  We are human.  We have trials and we struggle.  But the important thing is that we can pull ourselves out of our seeming problems and see the truth--that God is good--that He is faithful--that He has a plan greater than ourselves.  And mostly, we're just jazzed to be a part of it.

Even though I doubt I will ever be able to feel in a constant state of prayer, I still hear God  unmistakably--when my kids spontaneously show love and gratitude, when I hear the happy chorus of 'Papa! PAPA!!! Papa is home!!', when I decide to take a break from the frustration of cooking dinner with a whining kid attached to my leg and instead sit down on the floor of the kitchen to snuggle with my baby as long as she wants--it's then that I hear the song in my heart: God is good. 

Lately, I've been trying to focus more on how I worship outside of my role in a traditional church family.  I relish my moments of reflective solitude, but I feel God is leading me to explore an active worship of Him--how to sing His praises and hold Him in my heart as I go through the day. And in all this, I'm wondering what I should share--what I should share with my children, with my husband, with my friends and family and with my little ambiguous slice of internet on the blog.  I know for the present, my posts are intended to keep friends and family updated with our lives, but I've always written with the thought echoing in my mind that this is really for my children.  I want them to know their past--to know mine--and to know what we went through together from their Mama's honest perspective.

And my faith is honestly all there would be if you stripped my soul bare.

I'm not really sorry if I've lost anyone reading this, but I know while God is so intensely reforming my faith that it will feature prominently here as well. 

So, for anyone still left reading, I wanted to share a moment that has stuck with me--that has taken root in my soul.  I'm not sharing this because I'm proud of myself or because I think others should take note.  I'm sharing because I hope you will see Christ in my experiences, just as I have--that my life and every aspect of it will be a reflection of His awe-inspiring loving kindness.

Last night we took our traditional Friday night walk.  Not everything was perfect--we got stuck walking next to a group of American kids lamenting the city's 'most boring' sights and Bailey spilled chocolate ice cream all over me, but we did get to see our Vienna; to walk down her streets and to sit in the pews of Stephansdom--to listen to street performers and smell the horses patiently waiting to tour around the city.  When we got off our U-Bahn stop on the way home it was raining and the girls laughed hysterically as we ran all the way back to our apartment.  We dried off and put on jammies, talked about our favorite things and what we're thankful for.  We read a bible story about The Last Supper and as the girls were saying their prayers, my heart was silently whispering, begging for communion with God.  I bundled my girls in blankets and kissed them goodnight.  And as I walked through the rooms of our apartment, making sure everything was done for the night, I noticed a light on in the dining room.  As I walked in, I saw the table was bare, except for a single roll of bread left over from dinner and a half empty cup of wine...and I heard Him--He spoke to my heart.  Commune with Me.  So I did.  And it brought me to tears. 

As I look back through my week, I can see moments where He is calling to me, much in the same way: stop. focus. commune with me. 

I just pray I will hear.  And that my answer will unceasingly be: Yes.