I'll be home for Christmas...

Strasbourg is a truly magical place to be around Christmas.  The proclaimed "Capitale de Noel", Strasbourg boasts the oldest Christmas market (Christkindelsmärik) in the world dating back to 1570.  The entire month of December the whole city is impeccably decorated in lights and an evening stroll down the small winding streets can really leave an impression on you.

So not my picture but its had to really capture it all from the ground.  Credit given to www.travelfreak.com

So yes, I am incredibly spoiled to be able to spend Christmas with the kids in such a wonderful place. However, growing up in a large family in the snowy Midwest can be pretty awesome too as far as Christmases go. So I decided to spend the 25th here with Jean's family and head back to the States the day after.  Only problem is that Jean has used up his vacation time for the year and can't make it back with us. While this came as a bit of a blow, I knew I needed to go home, even if it meant another solo flying adventure with a preschooler and a toddler (see "Have Kids, Will Travel" for disastrous details...)  So without much hesitation, I decided that the pain and anguish of another trans-Atlantic flight with the kids is well worth spending the holidays with my family.

Christmas was always so magical to me as a child.  Even though my mom always said she dreaded it (having 8 kids may have that effect on a person) she had a way of making Christmas incredibly special for us and these are undoubtedly some of the most wonderful childhood memories I have. Its hard to imagine not sharing some of these memories with my own children.  Besides, word is its a white Christmas in Cleveland...

It'll be a long, tiring trip but nothing will keep us away! Wish me luck!

French Country Living

French Country Living...Sounds like the name of a Martha Stewart magazine, no?  I have to say that at times I feel lucky enough to have a permanent feature article in it.  We live some 15km north of Strasbourg (with a decently sized city center of 275,000 inhabitants).  However, we are just far enough out to be snack dab in the middle of the country side.  The house that we are renting is fantastically located so that our backyard overlooks a huge corn field.  Yes folks, I was born and raised in Ohio but I have never been this close to corn in my entire life! We moved in last a August when the field was a vibrant green and plants towered above our heads. To my surprise, a few months later, a massive harvester came and showed leaving us an empty field to overlook just a few hours later.

I realized how I (and the kids) literally had the planting and harvesting cycle in our backyard.  It made me think of that sped up video I'd see on Sesame Street when I was a child of a plant growing and then viewed at super speed to see the whole life cycle in some 20 seconds.  So it inspired me to chronicle the various stages of planting and harvest between February of this year until now.

Then, a Saturday night a few weeks ago, I walk into the house to see the kids glued to the french doors (or as we say in french - "doors") overlooking the back deck. A massive harvester was making its way though the field.  Perhaps Saturday nights in French countryside are at a slower pace than the big city - but I'll take it any day.

*Disclaimer - So,  you might be asking yourself  "Why are they harvesting corn in late November?"  Truth be told, this is not "human" corn but instead destined for pig feed. So the corn pretty much dries on the stalks and is then harvested much later than a sweet corn variety. So, yes - I guess this gives me and the kids a better view of both the crop cycle AND insight into the raising of livestock.  Sort of a twofer (of you put a spin on it the right way...)

I mean come on, the pork for a traditional alsatian "choucroute garni " doesn't grow on trees.

No tricks, just treats

There's no denying it - Halloween is just not the same here in France.  While you'll see a few decorations here and there nearing the end of October, its far from what I grew up with.  As a child, I remember the whole neighborhood being lit up with front porch lights, yards converted into make-believe cemeteries and that house or two that went all out with Thriller music playing and a ridiculous amount of effort going into scaring the crap out of trick or treaters.

The Halloween atmosphere here is much - well, quieter.  No celebrations at school and no real Halloween themed parties.  Its made me realize how there are many aspects of my childhood that will not be the same for my children.  While its not a huge thing, its a strange feeling to not be able to pass on similar traditions.  I did my best by having Audrey watch "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" on YouTube and having her participate in a Halloween party for the American association that I am involved with.  I thought I had done enough until she came to me a couple days before Halloween and said, "Mama, I want to ring someone's door bell and get candy".  It's funny - she said it with such a sad tone that it was almost as if she was saying she wanted to walk on the moon or something.  It broke my heart to have such a simple childhood memory for me seem like an elusive dream for her.

So I got to work.  I asked around and apparently the neighboring village has a handful of families that buy candy and welcome trick or treaters.  Luckily, Jean has childhood friends (now with kids of their own) who live in the town so we decided to give trick or treating a shot.  We stopped at a good 8-10 houses and the kids were welcomed with handfuls of candy and big smiles.  Even thought the ambiance was much different from what I remember as a child, there is something intensely Halloween about walking in the crisp, dark night while leaves crunch underneath your feet.  I'd like to think that my mission was achieved - Audrey had such a huge grin on her face all evening.

I am now realizing how different her childhood will be from mine because of where we grew up.  Thank goodness for Charlie Brown holiday specials to try and bridge some cultural gaps ; )

So what was our little tricker treater dressed as?  We looked up Halloween costumes online and she passed through page after page of princesses and butterflies and stopped the moment she saw the hula girl...

Actual appearance (when living in Northeast France!)

Amazon.fr portrayal of outfit

Irish (and Dutch) breakfast

Although we moved to France more than a year ago, we have yet to really take advantage of being able to travel as much as we'd want to.  In fact, Strasbourg is often called the "Crossroad of Europe" because of its somewhat central location on the European continent. Jump in a car and we are actually just a few hours from a handful of countries.  Those few hours in a plane could pretty much get you to any European country at all.  Not a bad situation to be in.

Truthfully, with the big move and Jean concentrating on his job search we really haven't had time to travel much - until now. When we got an invitation to attend the wedding of Jean's former colleague in Galway, Ireland, it was hard to pass it up.  After a harrowing transatlantic trip alone with both kids, a mere 3 hours plane ride with an accompanying parent made it a total piece of cake.  So we packed our bags and set off on our first European family vacation.

It was short, just 4 nights, but we got to see a good amount of sights (also considering we had to work around cranky kids and nap schedules!).  We flew into Dublin and had dinner that night at the house of Jean's second cousin, along with his wife and two boys. The morning after, we took in the city of Dublin with a walk in the city center and stop by Saint Patrick's cathedral (and next door park with a playground).

         


I was not at all up for the whole "driving on the left" thing so the next morning, Jean bravely drove to the two hours from Dublin, due west to the beautiful city of Galway.  We met with the love birds at a reception for out of towners the night before the wedding and got to explore Galway a bit.  The day after the wedding we headed out to the Connemara coast for some incredible scenery.  Despite some minor meltdowns, the trip was a great success.    

     

  


On our way back - we missed our tight connection in Amsterdam.  Although I was pretty
upset at the time, it somehow was made easier by a free night in a 4 star hotel with dinner and a huge breakfast buffet included. Okay, KLM, I'll let this one slide.

  

Have kids, will travel

Well we are now safe and sound back in France.  It was an incredibly long and tiring trip back home just me and the kids but as promised, here's a recap of a mom's adventure with a toddler, a preschooler, two planes, a train, lots of tears and almost 20 hours of solo travel.

A dietitian mothers' best attempt of "healthy" airport food

My original idea was to take photos of the different stages on the continuum of boredom/exhaustion.  It started out well with a couple shots from the easy plane ride between Cleveland and JFK/New York. Piece of cake, right?





We end up in JFK with a couple of hours to spare.  Our flight was at 10pm so my idea was to feed the kids at the airport to be able to skip dinner service on the plane and get the kids down soon after taking off (wishful thinking right?).  Anyway, our dinner choices in the small terminal wing we were in were limited so I dodged the burgers and pizza and tried to stay as balanced as possible with some fruit, yogurt and ham and cheese sandwich.  I find a table in the corner where two increasingly tired kids might go unnoticed.  Right after I take the picture our our feast, Audrey looks and me and says, "Mama, I gotta pee".  You are kidding me, right??  Okay, no biggie.  I nicely ask the couple at the table next to me watch the food while I grab the kids (plus the stroller, and all of carry-ons!) into the bathroom.  We cram ourselves and all our stuff into the stall so the little one can empty her bladder.  Ten minutes later, we are back at the table.  Nice work, I tell myself...
this is going to be a cinch.  We finish off our food and

make our way to the gate.

I change Thomas into his pajamas since that'll help him realize its time to sleep (more wishful thinking...) and we board the plane.  We push back right about on time but there seems to be traffic on the ground.  I've got Thomas on my lap (since we didn't pay for a seat for him) and I feel something slightly wet on his bottom side.  After further examination it appears he's got a leaking issue and unfortunately its not pee.   You've got to be kidding me...(seems to be a theme at this point). So, I have now found myself on an active runway, unable to get up from my seat and a nasty case of diarrhea on my lap.  Thomas is not a happy camper at this point and after 45 minutes and having budged just a couple feet, I decide to take matters into my own hands.  I grab my diapers, and change him on my lap, disposing of the soiled pajamas in the same bag as the dirty diaper (along with all my expectations of an easy flight at this point).  Another pat on the back for myself, after drowning my hands in Purell, of course. So much for those sleep inducing pajamas though....

Last know picture of those pajamas 

We take off - finally!  And, well the pictures pretty much stop there.  Things slowly take a turn for the worst and snapping pictures of it is now the last thing on my mind.  Some 3 hours into the flight (so pretty much around 2am for the kids and me) I manage to get Thomas to sleep.  Half mission accomplished!  Audrey is still into the in-flight entertainment and I am hoping that she'll doze off to sleep in the process (yet more wishful thinking).  Ten minutes into him falling asleep in my arms, it's deja vu - "Mama, I gotta pee".  You have really got to be kidding me now!  Okay, breathe...we can do this.  I take Thomas who is sound asleep in my arms and I usher Audrey to the bathroom.  It's pretty much the point in the flight where everyone is asleep.   I look around for a flight attendant but I don't see anyone.  Just as I am at the bathroom door with no clue of how to make this work, another passenger meets me at the door and asks if she can help.  I thank her profusely and hand her a soundly sleeping Thomas.  Another almost impossible pee mission accomplished! Again, I have to feel pretty proud of myself.  Not to shabby!


That's where it all unravels.  We make it back to our seats with a recently peed (though EXHAUSTED) Audrey and a still sleeping Thomas.  I went to adjust Audrey's pillow and she just lost it.  She jumps out of her seat and starts screaming at the top of her lungs.  This subsequently wakes Thomas up who is now screaming at the same intensity.  All this with the rest of the plane trying to sleep.  Seats 24 E and F are now where eyes start turning and I suddenly and completely overwhelmed.  I have two over-exhausted kids who both need ME to get settled but I just can't do it simultaneously.  I am overcome with a feeling of helplessness and am sort of frozen with fear.  We are making quite a scene at this point and have attracted some attention.  One of the male flight attendants comes by and tosses two Air France in-flight children's actives packs at me (because obviously some colored pencils and a few stickers are exactly what I need to get the kids to stop screaming).  I then see another man coming to me.  He starts to speak to me in French in an overly confident voice - "I am a medical doctor and I have perfected a technique that can make all babies stop crying. Hand me your baby."  This is a TOTAL true story, I kid you not. At this point, I hand Thomas over, being at a complete loss for anything else to do.  The man takes Thomas high up on his left shoulder and starts a strange bouncing motion.  As is no surprise to anyone reading this - IT DID NOT WORK!  Thomas' screams have only intensified a couple notches and he is now in total hysteria.  The guy looks at me and says in a exasperated tone - "Well it must be his ears then since my technique works on all children".  He hands me Thomas and the baby whisperer heads back toward his seat, a bit defeated.

I have no recollection of how I did it but I was finally able to manage to get both kids asleep some 20 minutes later.  For a good hour, I had Thomas asleep in my arms, and Audrey sleeping soundly on the seat next to me.  I have to say that one hour of calm was enough to make up for all the rest up until then.  It was an incredible feeling to say the least.  They both ended up waking up about and hour and a half before landing in Paris.  As they were serving a final snack before landing, Thomas suddenly gets a bloody nose and blood is everywhere.  Although he has gotten them in the past, this one was hard to stop so by the time it was over, it literally looks like we came out of a war scene.  Strangely, knowing that we were so close to being done with the longest flight, I took in in strides and made the best of it.  We landed a bit later and I breathed a sigh of relief.  We were still a couple hour train ride from home but I now felt like the hard part was over.

We barely made our train connection but once we were on, I knew we were in the home stretch.  It was so much nicer to be able to move around on the train and spread out a bit (ironically I think they did both end up enjoying the Air France children activity kits).  Needless to say, the kids were exhausted when we arrived at the train station in Strasbourg - but we had done it. Not a pretty sight at times but I was able to safely get the kids from Cleveland to Strasbourg France in one piece (although there was some blood shed).  I can guarantee you that I will not be embarking on a similar adventure any time soon.  And to that baby whisperer out there - keep working on that technique ; )          

 

Thomas - sound asleep just minutes after arriving home!

Life - a year later...

Last week marked the one year anniversary of our arrival in France. Quite ironically, I spent the day in Boston of all places!! While it makes the anniversary seem a bit less real as we are not spending it in France, it's still a super cool way of remembering the wonderful people and city we said goodbye to. Perhaps it even speaks to the fact that still feel very connected to our former home. Ironically, I have an American friend in France who sadly misses the days of drinking a cold coffee beverage while watching the kids at the playground. Laura (yes, she is named Laura as well!) - this picture taken on the one year anniversary of our move to France is for you!

We spent our week in Boston planning play dates and scheduling meet ups with friends. It's been an incredible visit and I have to admit that the first couple days had me ready to throw in the towel on the whole French adventure. I was bombarded with the wonderful memories of our Boston experience - the beginning of Jean and my life together as well as the birth and early life of the kids.  It took some real reflection to remember how thankful I am for our new start in France.  Its sort of that whole "grass is always greener" notion.  

I did find that by the end of our stay in Boston, I realized that we were now technically tourists and it was nice to start looking for opportunities actually sight-see!  Our last day in Boston, I tried to think of a quintessential tourist activity before we said goodbye again.  So off the the Boston Common and the Public Garden we went!  It was a gorgeous Sunday summer morning and the Swan Boats were calling our name.  For those of you that have been reading this blog from its inception, the Swan Boats were on our "bucket list" of things to do before leaving Boston.  It never got crossed off so it was really meaningful for us to tackle this.  It makes me think that this "bucket list" has morphed into more of "to be continued list" knowing that although Boston is no longer our home, its a place where we will undoubtedly spend much more time.  A nice feeling really.  Okay - not as magical as I had thought since I did it alone with the kids (Jean left after just 5 days in Boston to head back to work).  Thomas screamed most of the supposedly tranquil ride and Audrey found that it was a good time to get really close to the edge of the boat to keep me freaked out the whole time.  Nevertheless, it was a fantastic way to end our stay in New England! An overpriced trip across the street on the Carousel at the Common seemed like a happy ending for all three of us...

Now we are enjoying our last week in the US visiting the family in Cleveland. Sadly, I have taken much fewer photos on this portion of the trip.  Nevertheless, its nice being surrounded by family especially given that we now live so far away.  We are relishing our last couple days here before I head back with the kids back to France.  Strangely I am actually looking forward to the plane trip by myself with the two kiddos.  Even more so since I decided to make it the topic for the next blog post!  So if anyone is interested in seeing the chronicled stages of meltdown of a toddler and preschooler through 15+ hours of travel, stay tuned...

Our "currant" state...

It is now red currant season in France and I have to admit that these little guys are not in my repertoire. These tiny tart berries are native to western Europe and grow in grape-like clusters on small bushes. Turns out the place we are renting has a couple bushes out back which, despite their modest size, gave us quite a harvest.  At first the kiddos would just snack on the berries while playing in the yard.  Then one evening Jean and Audrey quickly filled a couple mixing bowls with the these tiny guys - about 3 kilos worth.  Challenge accepted!

There were also a handful of what are called "albino currants", somewhat sweeter than their crimson cousins (and from a mom's perspective, much less stain power!)

I started with an easy introduction to these unfamiliar fruits.  I found a super quick recipe for a tarte aux groseille (red currant tart) - http://www.marmiton.org/recettes/recette_tarte-aux-groseilles_17551.aspx. Couldn't be much simpler - place washed berries on a premade crust and cover with a custard like filling. Easy as pie, as we say back home.

Audrey seeming to question why I stopped cutting the tarte to take a picture of it...

Okay - these berries are now growing on me and I'm ready to up the ante.  Let's try some jam making!  No, I have never made jam before but I feel like the berries are calling me to do so.  It seems that red currants are naturally high in pectin so they are naturals in the whole jelly making business.  Jean and I spent an entire evening meticulously separating 2 kilos worth of berries from their stems. And so it begins...

cooking of berries (a handful of cherries and strawberries added since they were sitting around)

Processing the concoction through a hand grinder

A quick boil of the liquid and the addition of enough sugar to make a dietitian gasp - and voilà! We are in red currant heaven!! I couldn't help but feel a bit like my namesake from Little House on the Prairie knowing that we now have provisions to last us though a long winter.

Turns out I still have some 500g of currants left, even after our jam making extravaganza.  At this point I feel like currants and I are old buddies.  Red currant and orange muffins finish off our harvest as we end on my turf.

Currants have been tackled - now onto packing those suitcases.  Tomorrow we are heading to the other side of the Atlantic for our first (of many!) summer trips home.  Hope to see some of you all soon!!

A shot in the dark

We are now just a few weeks shy of our one year anniversary in France.  It's hard to believe how fast it has gone by!  It also means that we are at the end of many "firsts" (at least calendar wise).  One last one though - my first July 14th in France.  Even though Jean and I would frequently come in the summer on vacation, I had never been here for "Bastille Day".  Given its proximity to the Forth of July, I wonder if many Americans living in France appreciate the dates being so close together to sort of replace what they are missing from home.

So...my impression of this "first"?  A bit quieter than its US counterpart.  No complaints here though.  I decided to treat Audrey to her first fireworks display (despite the fact that it didn't start until 11pm!).  Cotton candy ("barbe à papa" in French) gave her a nice sugar rush that literally had her running in circles for a good half hour before the fireworks began.  And then the show started...she was enamored!  The most incredible thing she has seen in her three and a half years.  Okay, that's what I thought her reaction would be.  What really happened?  She sat on my lap with her hands over her ears for the entire 20 minutes, paralyzed with fear.  Half way through, on the verge of tears, she says she's done and wants to go home. I was able to get her to stay through the rest but it was hard to enjoy it knowing that she was scared.  Maybe firsts aren't all they're cracked up to be.  I guess we'll stick around for another year to give it a second shot...

 

Flamenco with a French touch

Not long after I arrived, I decided that it would be a good idea to find some sort of ongoing activity to help make France feel more like home.  I have always wanted to learn Flamenco dancing so I signed up for a weekly class that started last September.  I mean what better place to learn Flamenco than here in France where it all originated!  (Okay - I might be one country off but at least I'm on the right continent!)  Anyway, it turns out that its a little harder than I was thinking.  I thought that my dancing skills acquired during my Latin American travels would work in my favor. Unfortunately, a decent merengue and passing salsa moves wouldn't help me much after all.

Then, a couple months in, I hear about the big show in June where we will be dancing - on a stage, in front of people.  As it is, I am having trouble getting the moves down and with the class conducted all in French (I mean who would have thought) I feel like I've gotten myself in over my head.  There were a more than a couple nights when I arrived home and on the verge of tears told Jean I was done.  I just wasn't getting it.  But I stuck in there.  I practiced for hours on end at home (which served the dual purpose of getting the moves down as well as making Audrey and Thomas chuckle).

The day of the show arrived and I actually felt ready.  While I cannot brag about being the most graceful of dancers, I had the steps down.  Walking off that stage I felt so incredibly proud of what I had achieved. I remember thinking that this experience mirrors the greater overall challenge of adapting to life in France.  With hard work and perseverance, I can pull this off too.

Now if someone can just explain to me why I keep getting strange looks running errands in my flamenco skirt and shoes...