Soon to be Schoop-schooping

Last weekend we took Annie to the slopes. Well, O.K., to a small incline with some snow on it that was near the mountain. We had tried last year, but at 2 1/2 she just wasn’t ready. Fair enough.

Mostly Markus and I wanted her to have a positive experience with skiing, so we put her in a private lesson. It went great. The teacher had children of her own and had obviously done this many times. She came well-equipped with a bad of gummies, tossing one in Annie’s mouth like a seal every time she completed the 2 second descent.

Even though it was a foggy and cold day (so pictures are a bit fuzzy), Annie spent 40 minutes going up and down with the instructor and felt very proud of herself when it was over.

Now if only Mama can get this hang of this skiing thing, it will be a great family outting for years to come.

Starting out
Starting out
Magic carpet ride
Magic carpet ride
Down we go!
Down we go!
Hands up
Hands up
Easy peasy lemon squeezy
Easy peasy lemon squeezy
Happy Papa
Happy Papa

A Grand Grandparent Day

One set of grandparents, Nana (my mom) and Grandpa Drew (my stepfather) are visiting from Canada. Well, Drew has already returned home but Mom is staying for a few more days.

Last weekend we tackled the requisite visitor activity, a hike up a mountain. As my mom has had two hip replacements and has a stent in her heart, this needed to be planned carefully. Markus scouted out an easy-ish trek and off we (Drew, Mom, Markus, Annie and I) went. I became much more worried once we got a bit higher and realized that there was snow and ice on the ground. Mom didn’t have hiking boots on, so it was quite slippery. With the help of a few strong arms, my hiking poles and a midway rest (a hide-and-go-seek break for Annie and Drew) we made it up.

As a reward, we came to a restaurant with a particularly lovely view as well as a 5 euro schnitzel special. Delicious.

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After our hike we headed straight for a Christmas celebration in Rattenberg, a small medieval village about 45 minutes outside of Innsbruck. The city has put up hundreds of candles in all of the windows and set up a stage for performers. There were Christmas stalls and every store was open and decorated for the season. The town is known for its glass blowing, and many stores had beautiful hand-blown ornaments, glassware and vases. Mom bought some Christmas tree angels and a pretty blown-glass flower.

After some glüwein and wurst, we moved to the main stage area. There were children’s choirs and musicians and choral singers. A rope was strung across the square, and for a finale a woman was lifted up on a swing. Swinging above the crowd she proceeded to sing a beautiful Ave Maria that completely enchanted Annie. Very pretty.

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As I keep saying, there is just nothing wrong with Christmas time in Austria. It is the best time for a visit without a doubt. Absolutely beautiful.

Words, Words, Words

I’ve had a couple of occasions lately to notice that, despite my frustration, my German really is improving. Today I had a teacher-parent interview with Annie’s last care-giver to wrap up her time from Kindergruppe (daycare) and talk about the transition into Kindergarten. Last year Gabby had prepared this in English, but this year she thought I could handle it in German. (We speak enough that she has an idea of how I’m progressing…not just Annie.) I understood almost all of it. Gabby spoke slowly and clearly with no dialect, but still.

And last week was the lantern festival through the park again. The video is useless, as Annie was having a bad day and so was crying unless I held her hand. Oh well. But I did notice that this time last year, I didn’t understand either the words to the songs or what the school director was saying in his speech afterward. This year I caught most of it.

Annie is going through her own language phase. Although she has loved books from the time they were merely chew toys, she hasn’t shown much desire to learn the letters. I’ve given it a go periodically, but she hasn’t been interested in much past “A is for Annie.” Then a couple of weeks ago she started to be able to find the “O” on the bus we take. (The orange “O” is best, being somehow superior to the bus with the green “O”.)

And last night we were playing in the tub and I happened to say that boat starts with a “B”. Well, we then had to go over every thing in the tub (and there are a lot of toys in that tub!) several times and talk about what letter each one started with. It was lots of fun for  both of us.

I’m sure I’ve said it before, but I think it is such a gift to be learning a language at the same time as my daughter is discovering language. I think it gives me an interesting perspective on how her little brain must be processing the information.

So on that note, here is Annie “reading” a book. This is one of her favourite activities; often she will ask to read to herself before going to sleep after we have finished reading together.

Here is a few seconds of a much longer video of Annie reading/remembering/singing a nursery rhyme book. (I think I took over 5 minutes of this.) As I’ve mentioned before, my movie making skills are bruuuutaaaaal, but I guess that isn’t the point. (And please ignore the crazy hair. We just had had a major tickle fest before getting ready for bed.)

Annie “Reading” from Hillary Samson on Vimeo.

Of Devils and Angels (well, fairy princesses…)

Last Saturday Annie woke up possessed by the devil. BY THE DEVIL I say. The last four days Markus and I felt like we were in a very, very hot place. Annie’s independent streak has been building for months now. Years, actually. But it has gone to a very unhealthy (for the parents) place. If I do something completely ridiculous and horrible like, say, turning on a light in a dark room or handing Annie a spoon so she can eat her cereal, crisis ensues. “But I wanted to put on my clothes/choose my socks/peel my banana/stir the boiling hot soup/etcetcetcetcetcetc.” Any one of these things (except the soup maybe) would be great. A real show of independence. But every single second for every single thing is exhausting.

Markus and I are getting our ducks in a row with this, as we haven’t had too much of the tantrums in the past to need to strategize about. We are trying time-outs, taking away toys, ignoring, praising (the moments of good behaviour), reasoning, redirecting, bribing. And I certainly try letting her do whatever she can by herself when at all possible or giving her choices to let her feel like she is in control. What I found works the best is if I take a time-out. I leave her wherever she is freaking out (so far only at home, so that is doable) and tell her she can come find me when she can speak properly to me. We’ll see how long that works. I’m chalking it up to the fact that we are phasing out afternoon naps, and so she is undoubtedly more tired than usual. Here is hoping this is a very short phase.

On top of it, Annie didn’t want to get dressed or go out all weekend. So along comes Halloween. Well, not really, as they don’t have Halloween here. But I’ve joined an expat group and we organized pumpkin carving and dress up for the afternoon at a local restaurant. I made a commitment to go, so I needed to get that girl dressed and out the door. Annie was having none of it. Finally I took her downstairs naked, and then, after  more drama and trauma, managed to shoehorn her into her costume in the car.

And, of course, once she got there she had a wonderful time. And mommy had a drink.

Here are the pictures. (It was fairly cold, so the crown was replaced with a hat and scarf after some time. Next year I’ll find a costume that goes over the coat.)

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With new best bud, Max, from English Club
With new best bud, Max, from English Club

The restaurant was also a farm (common in these parts), so here is the fairy princess feeding the animals.

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And a couple of Annie and Dad carving a pumpkin at home. (Who needs pants?)

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Doesn’t she look like an angel? Sigh.

A Few Firsts

[The last time I posted was Oct. 11th?!! Sorry about that. To make up for it, here is a post about everyone’s favourite subject. (grin) ]

There have been a few firsts in Annie’s life lately. A couple of weeks ago was an invitation to her first birthday party in Austria. I was so interested to see what parents did for their children to celebrate birthdays. Some of the regular blogs I read have been talking about Snow-white parties, fairy tea parties, planning for 3 months for a birthday, and one sad, teary video lament from a mother who, due to having lost all of their money in the Madoff scandal, can’t mount the birthday extravaganza that all of her daughter’s friends put on.

Unsurprisingly (as I have gotten to know these Austrian types a bit better), birthday parties here are decidedly lower key. We walked in and the birthday boy, Jacob, opened Annie’s present (and all subsequent presents) right away. There was a table set up for snacks and cake, there was a space for dancing, and then by the time I picked Annie up, they were all watching a DVD. Due to a mixture of things including my innate laziness and my hatred of the MTV show “Sweet 16”, I’m quite pleased with this discovery that birthday parties here are just easy and fun.

Here is the girl when I walked in. My little 3-year old ingenue.

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Last week was also Annie’s first time riding her bike to school. It took almost as long as when we walk together, so I’m not sure this will be a regular thing just yet. And of course, winter is coming and I’m not one of those crazy people who encourages bike riding in the snow. (Very common here.) Nevertheless, Annie was pretty stoked.

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And perhaps the biggest first, last week was Annie’s move to Kindergarten. Children start Kindergarten here at 3 1/2, not at age 5 like in Canada. It wasn’t that much of a transition, as she is just going across the hall to a new room. Annie knows the teacher well and is friends with half the kids. The transitional phase can be up to 2 weeks, but by day 3 Annie was spending her whole time with Melanie in her new classroom. At this particular school all of the children take a second language, with a choice of Italian, English or French. We stuck with English; this kid has had a lot thrown at her in terms of changes in her little life, so adding a third language seemed, well, just a wee bit pushy. The English teacher is in the classroom a couple of hours a day, which I’m sure Annie will enjoy.

I took the camera to school on her first day of Kindergarten and asked her to smile. This is what I got.

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Oh, Annie-girl, you are more fun than 10 barrels of monkeys. I hope that as you grow and go through hundreds of other firsts, the joy stays the same.

Under the Tuscan Sun

(I know, I know….but I couldn’t resist the title.) When I returned from the summer in Canada, Markus reminded me that 2 years ago we had given his father a GC for a travel agent to encourage him to visit us in Canada. He never came, and the certificate was set to expire in October. Markus parents didn’t feel like taking a holiday (or were just being kind and let us have it), so Markus and I were forced to come up with some travel plans. Poor us.

We decided that it would be better to drive somewhere, and spend the GC on a hotel instead of airplane fares. (And frankly, I was none too keen to get back on a plane after my busy traveling summer.) Through the magic of the Internet and a helpful travel agent, Markus found the Tuscan Isola D’Elba, best known as the island where Napoleon was exiled.

Last Friday the three of us piled into the minivan and headed south (and a bit west.) I love the Italian countryside. You drive out of the mountains and then it is all rolling hills and centuries-old farmhouses.

After a six-hour drive we ended up at the port city of Piobino. The hour-long ferry ride went by quickly, especially as they have a skookum play area for children.

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As we approached Elba it became clear that this small island (150km of coastline) is very hilly and has some serious history. A large tiered wall, clearly several hundred years old, surrounding one of the first towns we saw. Beautiful and Mama Mia-style Mediterranean buildings line the shore.

Elba, as seen from the ferry
Elba, as seen from the ferry
Elba from the ferry
One of the Elba villages
Close-up of one of the villages with old city wall
Close-up of one of the villages with old city wall

My first glimpse of the port town after we got off the ferry made me start wondering what our accommodation would be like, as it was a bit derelict looking. However, after a day or two on the island, I came to realize that approximately 90% of the buildings were in need of a good paint, and that people obviously abandoned their junk  (old cars, playground equipment, etc.) haphazardly. It was just something to be overlooked, as it in no way affected the quality of anything. Or even much impeded the view, as everywhere you look you can see beauty: the expansive ocean surrounded by craggy rocks and hillside villages; tall palm trees and those crazy cacti with the flat leaves like ping-pong paddles; vines heavy with wine grapes. Magic.

View from the hotel grounds
View from the hotel grounds

The resort where we are staying is past their high-season, so they upgraded us to a junior suite with a separate area for Annie to sleep. Very nice. And unsurprisingly…since we are in Italy, and since I have met Markus and know he wouldn’t choose anything different…the food here is fantastic. We are on a package called half-board, which means that we have breakfast and dinner at the hotel everyday. The breakfast is a well-equipped spread, including at least one dessert. For breakfast.

Dinner is a daily-changing, four-course affair, with three or four choices for each course: appetizer, pasta course (or risotto), main course and dessert. Fresh seafood, well-cooked meat, nicely blended flavours, and the pasta. The pasta! Fresh-made with delicate pesto, fresh prawns, creamy cheeses. Why can’t N.A.ers do pizza or pasta correctly? It is one of life’s great mysteries. Although I guess just as well, or it wouldn’t seem so special when you do get a chance to travel. (I can now believe that Elizabeth Gilbert gained 25 pounds during her three-month stint in the Italian “Eat” part of “Eat, Pray, Love.”)

And I am enjoying the local Elba wine as well. Amusingly, one night I decided not to drink, and the server asked several times, quite confused, “You don’t want any wine with dinner? No wine?” Clearly, this is an anomaly in Italy.

So far the days have been all about swimming and lounging, since the 30°C weather precludes much else. Two days on the beach and one at the pool hotel. The beach we have gone to both days (there are many to choose from) is great. Our hotel has a sister beach-side hotel, so we get a discount on the lounge chairs and parking. There are a few children still around, but mostly Annie has been playing and swimming with us. Just so much fun to have a relaxing family holiday.

View from the beach
View from the beach

Although a bit cautious at first, by the first afternoon Annie was swimming like a fish in the ocean. Hours are spent in the water, which is perfect for kids as the sandy incline goes out for ages. As you can see, Markus’ parents decked Annie out in a very Italian-appropriate bikini. I usually go for the full SPF body armour but, as they say, “when in Rome”…or 400 kilometers from Rome as is the current situation.

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The hotel pool is freezing, much colder than the ocean. But once we heated up in the sun, it felt nice.

Hotel and pool
Hotel and pool

There is a large grassy area, comfy lounge chairs, and an exceptionally friendly staff. I’m learning a few Italian words, but get by quite well using mostly my German, as there are far more German tourists here (Austrian, German and an unexpectedly large contingent from Switzerland) than English-speaking visitors.

Our vacation is only five days plus the two travel days, but we are already happy and relaxed. We will hopefully make it to Napoleon’s residence for a look back in time, but otherwise more of the same in on the agenda for the last two days. An unexpected welcome surprise to round out our summer.

Ciao!

Mother of One

It seems that there is always something, something, something that women feel guilty about. Or, worse yet, are made to feel guilty about. (A great line from a fascinating New Yorker article on parenthood observes: “all the mothers want forgiveness; all the fathers want applause.”)

Being single, being childless, staying home, working, working too much, living in a messy house, cooking prepackaged meals, letting kids watch TV, andonandonandonandonandon…

Lately, my potential guilt-causing thoughts have been moving to the fact that, in all likelihood, I’m going to be the biological mother of one child. And since, psychologically, more than an 8-year gap between siblings (my step-daughter Rebecca is almost 16) means they turn out like “only” children, it is the reality I have to ponder for myself and Annie.

These past six weeks in Canada have brought a lot of contact with my many friends. (I am rich and blessed in that life department.) And many of these friends are moms who had their first child around the time Annie was born, and went on to have a second. I’ve heard more than once on this trip something like: “I thought one child was hard, but it is a piece of cake compared to having two.”

And a few weeks ago, when I was having one of my mommy pangs and asked  Markus, mostly jokingly, if we should have another, he said with a slight laugh: “I’m not sure you couldn’t handle more than one child.” Despite the fact that this is a very painful thing to hear from one’s partner, it doesn’t make it any less true.

I also very accidentally stumbled on a horrible blog post a couple of months ago (by clicking on a ubiquitous Blogher ad) that railed on about how people should either have no children or more than one, because parents of only children are overprotective, pushy, perfectionists, blah, blah, blah.

I like to tell myself that, should I become pregnant again despite our best prophylactic measures, I would still be a good mom to both my children. I would rise to the occasion and, though complaining often (I was a chronic complainer long before motherhood was bestowed upon me), my kids would grow up loved and relatively normal.

And honestly, I don’t think I’m kidding myself about that. But being over 40 as well as having been told any further pregnancies would be considered high-risk due to my placenta issues after Annie’s birth, I also have to admit that raising a high-needs child might be more than I could handle. The constant time and attention a high-needs child requires would, I think, send me spiraling into depression. I’ve seen moms of these children, amazing, loving, energetic women, and I don’t see myself in them. Maybe I’m underselling myself. Maybe not.

That leaves adopting, which, although I love the idea, doesn’t really seem to be in Markus’ and my future.

So it looks like I will be raising one child. (I don’t feel like I raised Rebecca, as she has two very loving and involved parents…although I do hope I’m avoiding the evil step-mother archetype.)

And frankly, oddly, interestingly, I’ve come to the conclusion (at least for now) that I feel pretty good about that. I’m an intense introvert, in that the only way my battery is recharged is to be completely alone for long stretches of time. I don’t enjoy the basics of running a household. I can’t be a stay-at-home mom, so need to pay for daycare. My stress level goes up when there is too much noise (of any kind, but particularly yelling.) Annie adores Rebecca and will have her to share her adult life with, if not her childhood. I still have a double-shot at grandchildren, which I think will be totally awesome. (Rebecca is an experienced superstar at accepting every single definition of “grandparent”, so I feel confident that I can be involved in her children’s lives.) And, perhaps most importantly, I feel like I’m being a good mother to Annie. Not perfect, maybe not even great, but right now, with one child to raise, I’m confident that I fall into the good mother category. (Thanks, Stacey, for the positive reinforcement of that during my stay in your beautiful home.)

But what all of these comments and articles and thinking has made me realize, is that parenting Annie since she has turned three-years-old, is, in fact, fairly (or should I say relatively?) easy. I loved the first 10 months on maternity leave (although wouldn’t have called it easy), had a very, very…very…hard time being a parent when Annie was two (not all due to Annie, but also external life circumstances compounding parenthood). But these last few months, I gotta say, have been much less challenging. Not every second, not even every day, but overall I have to admit it isn’t that tough. First and foremost, Markus is an amazing and involved father, and often takes Annie alone for dad/daughter time. (Oh, how I missed that these past 6 weeks!!) As well, Annie is a ridiculously happy child who spends most of her life laughing, running, singing and begging to be tickled. Pouting and crying almost never last more than one or two minutes. Her high, high energy can be expended in many ways, as she is open to almost all experiences. I love it when she is in daycare a few hours a day, and she loves it when she is in daycare a few hours a day. When I can’t reason with her (sometimes I can!), bribing almost always works. And, putting guilty feelings aside, when I need a break or want to get something done she is very open to watching TV. Now I know everything in childhood is a phase, and Annie could wake up tomorrow a miserable, difficult child for the next six months, but I certainly can’t say that about her at this time in her life.

I get the feeling, because I have had the exact same thoughts, that many people see life as a contest. Whoever is the busiest or makes it through the hardest times or rises to the most difficult life challenge wins. If someone comments how easy it is with one child, my reaction is always to think or say something like: “well, you have family nearby, or you have lots of money, or you have [insert excuse why I can claim that my life is just as difficult.]” I actually talk myself into thinking my life is sooooooo hard. I really think that it is time to let that go. I don’t need to believe this life is that kind of (con)test and even if it is, I’m O.K. if I don’t win. (You people, all you commenters who want me to know  you are superstars because you have more challenges than me, you win. Because, in honest-to-goodness fact, I think you are superstars too. Good job!) What I do need to do is complain less, appreciate my life more, accept myself and other people for who they are, and love my family. Not easily done, but I’m going to start putting in more time working on just that. And the next time a friend asks how is it going with Annie, I’m going to say: “Delightful, thank you. Now tell me about your parenting troubles. Right now I’ve got lots of time and energy to listen.”

Arrivals and Departures, or How Canada Regains a Resident

Our phone rang at 5:00 Wednesday morning; it was Rebecca letting us know that she arrived home safely back in Canada.

Her last few days in Europe were a bit crazy, but hopefully we sent her off well and with a good feeling about this place she called home for the last year. On Friday a few of her friends came over for a delish BBQ that Markus prepared. I think (not to put words in her mouth) that one of the best parts of this year for Rebecca was meeting new friends. They were absolutely lovely people, and I hope they keep in touch.

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On Saturday our friends from Phoenix, the Ravenhills, arrived: parents Cassandra and Mike and their girls Emily (15) and Amanda (13). Rebecca spent countless hours with Emily and Amanda growing up, so they had a blast during this short reunion.

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After a stroll around our ancient city center, we all went for a traditional Austrian meal. (There was a LOT of eating this last week.) The adults followed up with a drink on top of the city hall, while the girls took in a free concert by a Russian rock band.

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Sunday morning we decided to take the tram up the mountain for a casual brunch at a chalet. Rebecca and Annie weren’t dressed for the cold (bad parents) but the rest of us did the short walk up to the peak, finding some snow on this cool rainy morning. The girls (including Doro, Rebecca’s best friend at school) had a snowball fight in July. Crazy. (Most photos are by Mike…he has a great camera and took maybe a couple of pictures. 1,200 and counting over the first 9 days of their Euro trip.)

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Amanda gets to know the locals high above Innsbruck
Amanda gets to know the locals high above Innsbruck
The Doppelgänger of Rebecca is Doro. She speaks English very well and is super sweet.
The Doppelgänger of Rebecca is Doro. She speaks English very well and is super sweet.

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Rebecca’s last day was spent packing and shopping. She was given wads of cash from the family, which turned into many, many Euro t-shirts and other clothes. The Ravenhills went with her to get the shoppin’ started. As our present, Markus and I gave her some Austria music (Falco and Austrian folk music) to remember the year. (She requested it…not a bad joke on our part.)

Rebecca was sad to go but also was looking forward to being back in Canada and seeing her mom and Katherine. Markus was clearly down as he loaded the car and drove Rebecca to Munich. Annie and I will catch up with Rebecca in August, but it could be until Christmas or longer until Markus sees her again. Six months is a long time away from your little girl; (she will always be his little girl.) Even though there were some tough moments, I think Rebecca will look back on this year as a positive time in her life.

Annie Get Your Shot

The other day Annie asked to take some pictures with my camera. She has had a semi-obsession with cameras since watching the Elmo video (again and again) that talks about taking pictures. She went around the house saying: “Now I’m taking a picture of my giraffe, now I’m taking a picture of the chair, now I’m taking a picture of mommy.” Hilarious.

Here are the some of the shots of the world from a toddler’s view. Interesting angles and, of course, mostly blurry; tough for a little girl to stop moving. These are going to make a great scrapbooking page!

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