Das Kinder

Sorry I haven't been posting more regularly but...there's not that much to talk about.

The rush of the first few weeks is over.  I've figured out public transport, where the grocery stores and drug stores are, and the locations of close to a dozen playgrounds.  I've figured out the twister game required to get the double stroller into our elevator.  And I've (kinda) made a few friends.

(Note: I don't have everything figured out.  I tried to order a cold coffee last week at the coffeeshop I was working at, and got one with alcohol in it.  I think I had translated kirsch to its literal meaning of cherry, rather than the liquor.  I wouldn't mind this, if I wasn't actually trying to get things done.  But it will probably make my cover letters more entertaining to read!)

Things are improving over here.  Phoebe is definitly calming down.*  We've managed to generally restrain paci use to just the house, she's smiled and played with another little girl at the playground, and last night she let us shut her door when we left.  Granted, she was still up at o'dark thirty, in bed with us and kicking me in the head, but I do know it's getting better.  Also, we finally got in touch with the right person to order blackout curtains for her room.  That should make a difference with the early wakings.  Inshallah.

And we got her pink sheets, which created much happiness.  If something that little can make her that happy, hey, I'll take it.

So, here's a few shots of smiling Phoebe:

 I'm glad to have them.  She's so much fun when she's not miserable!  Lately, "Pop! Goes the Weasel" has been a huge hit, getting oceans of giggles every time she jumps for "pop."  Also "John the Rabbit" from Music Together has been a hit.  I was so happy to find the MT classes here -- we did some in the States, and had the CD, so at least some of the songs were familiar to her.  The first time we went, her eyes went as wide as saucers to hear something that SHE KNEW.  I think it was the beginning of things turning around, actually.

She starts "kiga" on Monday.  It's a local preschool, all in German.  I expect that the first week or two are going to be hard, but overall being around kids/having that kind of structure is going to be SO good for her.  She's already heard a good deal of German, so I hope she picks it up quickly...

And Miss Matilda is doing well.  Um, too well for my taste, actually...

Yeah.  The baby gates should get here next Wednesday in the HHE...the cats are not thrilled with this situation either.

In general, she's still a sweet, happy baby.  Well, not so happy in the middle of the night when she's in hysterics because her (*^@$) teeth won't come all the way in, but so much of the time she's just delightful.  We go to a baby group with the Vienna Baby Club every week, and she has fun eye-gouging the other babies (I've decided eye-gouging for babies is kind of like butt-sniffing for dogs.  It identifies individuals and establishes hierarchy.  Or something.)   It's fun, and I'm glad I have that time to spend one-on-one with her and enjoy her giggling.  Phoebe, with her worries right now, takes a lot of attention, and I want to make sure Matilda gets her full measure, too.

 All in all, they're beautiful, wonderful girls and I love them both to pieces.  Although not so much before 7am.


*Although still a work in progress.  The hysterics last night were about Miss M's bath seat. Birdie had climbed into it this morning and gotten thoroughly stuck, requiring two of us to get her out. Tonight, she was TOTALLY hysterical at the idea of going into the bathroom while it was there, even though we promised it was for Miss M. She even got in bed, under the covers, closed her eyes, and started singing her bedtime songs to herself. We eventually finished bathing Miss M, and while she was being pajamaed, Birdie took the bath seat out of the tub on her own, put it in the hall, and got into the bathtub with her diaper still on. Oy vay.

Moving Day!!!

We really get tons of beautiful, natural light in the living room

Moving Day!!!

Dan and I got back from our poor, pathetic excuse of a 5th anniversary get-away, fortuitously aligned with the Deracho thunderstorm in DC, and started packing the house on July 1 (Coincidently, three years to the week from when we moved in).  Since then, life has been boxes and moving, first to temp housing in the US and then in suburbian Vienna.  Now, finally, we have been allowed in our new, freshly painted, renovated, downtown Vienna apartment, where we get to spent another three years in (eventual) box-free bliss. 

It is so heartening to be HOME.  Our UAB was waiting for us, so Dan and I are now sleeping on our own pillows, with our own sheets and coverlet that make the room feel a little more like ours. Poor Phoebe is still without a duvet, due to circumstances mentioned in the last post, but at least she has more of her own toys.  We have our own pots, pans, and plates in the kitchen, and the crowning glory, INTERNET THAT WORKS.  Now, it's still all white walls and mostly bare floors, but it's a huge step forward.

That said, it does look a little bit like a bomb went off...

When toys explode....

Oh.  And there are no closets.  None.  We are transforming a superfluous 1/2 bath (across the hall from a full bath, as we really don't need (inshallah) four toilets in a 1300  square foot apartment) into some kind of storage space, and there are shelves in the laundry...well, room would be an overstatement... -- but that's it.  If you've ever felt like you don't have enough clothes, move to the land of the Ikea wardrobe.  That will solve that problem quickly.  Also, I boggle at the idea of putting in "modern" sinks, with exposed plumbing and no cabinets, in an apartment with no closets.  Right now, all of the spare towels are living on the shelf under my nightstand, but this is not sustainable for three years.

Wardrobes are far superior for hide'n'seek

"Hi Mommy! I found Narnia!"

And we got the green furniture again.  Seriously, what State Department karma do I have that I get the green furniture TWICE? (Those who have worked with me, please don't answer that publicly!)

But still...I like this place.  It's in an old building, with high ceilings and pretty molded "eyebrows" on the exterior.  Our view from the living room is pretty amazing, with one ornate church steeple in the middle of the block, and Stephansdom visible to the far left.  All the rooms get lovely natural light.  The kitchen is big enough, and the living space is honestly pretty huge.  It just FEELS right, like a place we could really live.  I know that I'm still in the falling-in-love stage of expat life, but it's so much nicer than the temp housing.  So much. 

Poor Phoebe, though -- I wish I could explain to her, truely get through, that this is it.  We're not moving again (in a timeframe she can conceive of).  This is HOME -- all of her things will be here, all of our things will be here, and this is a place we'll come back to again and again.  I think she's still afraid that she's going to live a nomadic existence for the rest of her days; six weeks is a much bigger chunk of her life than it is of ours!  And I think she still fears that one day she'll wake up and we'll be gone.  I mean, one day she woke up and her house and friends were all gone, right?  So, to a toddler, I can see that being totally logical.

I hope the fact we now have a playground across the street and a short connection to the zoo will be a start to making things better.  We have had some fun lately -- last weekend, Dan and I took her to the pool, from which she had to be forceably extracted when she started turning purple.

Note Phoebe on the far right; the pigeon is on the far left.

And yesterday, even with the trauma of the actual move, we were able to have a nice evening eating brats along the canal.  She had a blast chasing pigeons in Schwedenplatz and then eating ice cream (after which we considered dunking her in the canal).  I know there's a long way to go before home is really home for all of us, but we'll get there.

The sins of the father (and mother)

My poor, sweet, little girl.

Before July, Phoebe was a very happy preschooler.  She had preschool and then camp, with teachers she adored, friends she talked about at home, and even MUSIC CLASS.  An adoring nanny.  Monday playgroups.  Sunday swimming lessons with Daddy, and a water table in the backyard.  More friends than she could count (literally, since it was more than eleven or twelve).

And then she got yanked to Ohio without warning.  Returned to Fairlawn, in the midst of boxes.  Then to a tiny temporary apartment, stuck on an airplane, and has now spent two weeks in a suburban, barely-furnished temporary apartment, living out of suitcases.

I know she'll love Vienna once we get settled.  Our final apartment has a park across the street, with a really cool playground.  We'll take public transport on a regular basis, including the beloved red buses.  There are SO many things here for kids to do, from the zoo to the beaches at the Alte Donaue.  And, eventually, we'll find a preschool for her, we'll meet more kids her age, and the rest of her life will arrive by boat and air and we'll slowly put it back together.  (Still, TRSNS peeps, I am going to cry a bit when you guys all post about starting back at school.)

7 month old siblings are not the world's best playmates.  Or teeter-totter mates.

But right now, life is tough.  We're living on a welcome kit and our suitcases -- and even two big suitcases mostly filled with toys doesn't go THAT far.  Our apartment is temporary, and it really feels that way.  Half the rooms have no furniture in them, there's no carpets, rugs, or anything on the walls, and it's not fully air conditioned.  Given that it's been in the high 80s, that makes sleeping suck. Her room, for some unknown reason, has her bed in it along with another unmade twin bed and bunk beds, also with bare mattress.  It is NOT friendly looking.  And, in a total Mommy Fail, the box that was supposed to be Mailed (so we'd get it Right Away) that had HER pillow and coverlet and a few favored books and stuffed animals, went into STORAGE.  So we won't see it for three years.  I'm pretty traumatized by this, and I'm not even two.

And while there are a lot of cool things to do here, most of them are kind of hard right now.  We're doing steady rotations of the three playgrounds near us, but to get anywhere else it pretty much involves bus+tram or U Bahn, and is a good 40 minutes one-way.  With the heat and two kids' nap schedules, this makes DOING stuff, getting out and away and a real change of scenery, hard to do.  We're all going a little nuts in this horrid temporary place, claustrophobic from lack of friends and lack of car.  And Phoebe seems to bear the brunt of it.


It was Dan and I's decision to come here, to live this life style and offer her all of these "advantages."  She didn't.  She would be PERFECTLY happy at home, speaking one language, going to her preschool.  We took her away from that and drug her over here, believing we knew what was best.  But the poor bug...she hasn't been sleeping well (which means we haven't either - it's 10:54pm and she's still up) and the TROUBLE she is getting into, just to get attention.

If you've ever tried to carry a boneless toddler when they don't want to go...

Seriously, if you get an international phone call with the heavy breathing of a small kid on the other end of it, that would be her.  Basically, when Phoebe's not happy, nobody's happy.   Seeing her push her dolly around in circles, singing to herself, is sweet...but not when I realize how much of that is boredom for her.  Watching her try to use my deodorant, get her own milk out of the fridge for her dolly's bottle, and disassembling the bathroom plumbing doesn't even have the side benefit of being cute.

I hope it turns around soon.  I love my little girl, and I really want this move to be the fun for her we envisioned.