Category Archives: Babies Without Borders

Salzburg

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The Little Women spent Easter Weekend in lovely Salzburg, Austria, the fabled home of Mozart, among other things.

The Little Women were impressed with the old town’s Baroque architecture, which includes a cathedral, churches and fountains.

Although the Little Women have seen a few White Christmases, this year was the first time they enjoyed a White Easter, with several centimeters of snow on the ground on Sunday morning.

Fortunately, the weather improved the next day, and they visited an open-air museum with buildings from rural areas near Salzburg.

Apparently the people there have a tradition of building fences without nails, because the museum included four or five different types of such fences.

Another highlight of the museum was its Austrian tractor exhibit.

The Little Women finished their time in Austria with a visit to Hellbrunn Palace, built 400 years ago by the prince-archbishop of Salzburg.

Hellbrunn Palace was not a residence (as our readers can see from its almost closet-like dimensions in the photo above), but a Lustschloss or “pleasure palace.”  It was a place where potentates could bring their friends for the day to forget about their cares (e.g., possibly breathing the same air as commoners) back in the city.  The palace is perhaps the only place in the world that features warning signs like this one:

Most readers will recall that this is the international sign forbidding the doing of jumping jacks in the presence of death-ray cross-fire.  However, at Hellbrunn it also means that visitors should not let their cameras get wet, because even in a garden scene as peaceful and elegant-looking as this

lurks di-hydrogen-oxide horror.  For example, there are fountains hidden in this dinner table and in the chairs (except for the host’s spot) — the perfect thing to wake up your guests who have had some wine and are dosing off.

In such a place, danger is everywhere, including in this fountain disguised as a deer head.

But at Hellbrunn Palace, water isn’t used only for nefarious purposes.  It also powers some clever moving figures:

At the end of their visit, the Little Women discovered that Hellbrunn also has a great park.  They agreed that any palace with a playground that has four types of swings is definitely a pleasure palace.

Barcelona

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Last month the Swiss Misses decided to ditch the cold and the snow and catch some Mediterranean sun in Barcelona. A budget-airline flight from Geneva brought them there in a little over an hour. To ensure the necessarily level of service, the Swiss Misses brought along their able and adventurous babysitter, Stephanie. The Little Women also brought along their parents (to help Jonathan and Jenelle feel needed).

Barcelona to Subway Passengers in Wheelchairs (or with Strollers, or Crutches, or Luggage): Drop Dead

Upon arriving in Barcelona, the Little Women and their attendants soon learned that navigating the subway stations with anything on wheels is frustrating, at best. Even when there’s an elevator (if you can find it) that you can use (if it’s in service), that doesn’t mean there won’t be other stairways later on in the station.1 As a result, traveling from the airport to the vacation apartment took longer than traveling from Switzerland to Spain.

Barcelona: This Is Not Your Father’s Architecture

The city being known for its Modernisme architecture, the first thing the Little Women wanted to see was the Sagrada Familia church, which has been under construction since 1882. The Swiss Misses quickly realized that this was unlike any other church they had ever visited (and they’ve visited many). After all, how many churches feature a tree with birds, fruit-like mosaic sculptures, and a magic square with a constant of 33? (And that’s just the outside of the building.)

The interior of the church has stained-glass windows that paint the walls with color.  The pillars resemble large trees.

The Little Women also visited Park Güell, which was designed by the main architect of the Sagrada Familia. However, since there was no playground, the Little Women decided that it couldn’t be a real “park.”

Later in the week, they visited Europe’s largest aquarium, which had a tunnel that let visitors walk through a large fish tank. This gave Clara and Nicolyn the chance to check out the many sharks in the tank and pick out their favorites.

Barcelona: In Spain, But Not of Spain

Barcelona, being the first city of Catalonia, seems to consider itself separate from the rest of Spain in some ways. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t see the rest of Spain in Barcelona! The Little Women visited Poble Espanyol, Barcelona’s open-air museum featuring reconstructed versions of buildings from all over the country. Although not as authentic as something like Ballenberg in Switzerland, it was still a fun time.

Barcelona to People Who Get Hungry Before 8PM: Drop Dead

Eventually, the Swiss Misses grew weary of sightseeing, so they stayed at the vacation apartment with Stephanie. They sent Jonathan and Jenelle outside so that the parents would be out of their hair. 2

Condemned to wander the streets of one of Europe’s biggest tourist destinations without their children, Jenelle and Jonathan visited the Picasso Museum, which showed early works from the artist’s life. Jonathan learned that Pablo started out producing more traditional work, and that cubism actually wasn’t an attempt to mask the artist’s lack of drawing ability.

They also checked out some Roman ruins, visited Barcelona’s cathedral, and saw some other Modernisme buildings. One of these was Palau Güell, a mansion that Antoni Gaudi (of Sagrada Familia fame) designed for the wealthy industrialist Mr. Güell.3

The only wrinkle in Jenelle and Jonathan’s time on the town (aside from getting the wrong train to visit a nearby city) was when they decided to have dinner one day at 5:30. It turned out that while you can eat lunch in Barcelona until 4 or 5, finding a traditional Catalan restaurant that will serve you dinner before 8 is apparently impossible.

The readers of this blog may be asking themselves, “What do Barcelonans do on a Saturday evening before the restaurants open?” Thanks to their careful research, Jonathan and Jenelle can answer this question: The locals attend public demonstrations. After resigning themselves to returning to the vacation apartment for dinner, Jenelle and Jonathan came across (in this order and in the space of 10 minutes):

  • a parade of people beating drums and/or wearing chicken costumes;
  • a religious procession coming out of a church; and
  • two demonstrations in front of government buildings.

Hopefully none of the demonstrations ran into each other — that could have turned messy.

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  1. This explains why “subway riding” was an event at the Paralympic Games held here in 1992.
  2. Speaking of hair, Jenelle and Stephanie went to an English-speaking hair salon. The hairdresser thought that Jenelle was Stephanie’s 22-year-old sister.
  3. “Wealthy” is a little misleading. He was actually incredibly, fantastically wealthy. By one count, his fortune was worth 70 billion Euros in today’s currency, which would make him one of the 25 richest people in history.

Alsace

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The Vances spent the week of Memorial Day (or the week of Ascension Day, depending on which country you’re in) visiting the lovely part of eastern France known as Alsace. This region has changed hands between France and Germany several times over the years, which explains why so many towns have German names, why the Alsatians bake such good pretzels, and why you find old, half-timber houses like these:

This picture is from Riquewihr, a medieval town wedged into an area of hilly vineyards.  Like Germany’s Rothenburg ob der Tauber or Switzerland’s Stein am Rhein, Riquewihr is famous for being a prosperous old town that was seemingly frozen in time. The Vances spent a week in Riquewihr, living in a vacation apartment in a house built in the late 17th century (fortunately, the house had been remodeled a few times since then).

The old houses of this area are awash in color, not just pastels, but vibrant blues, red, pinks and oranges. 1  Alsace is loaded with such eye candy.

But there’s more to see in Alsace than just little old towns.  There are also medium-sized old towns, like Strasbourg, which has a beautiful Gothic cathedral.

Alsace’s wildlife star is the stork — and it turns out that storks really do build their nests on top of chimneys, which probably makes it hard for them to get fire insurance. No sign that the storks are still delivering babies, though.

Thanks to its history, Alsace has been the scene of a battle or two. The mountain range there is dotted with military cemeteries, and you can still see some of the trenches that formed the front lines in World War I.

Thankfully, Alsace is again a place where little girls can have fun.

More pictures here.

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  1. Compare, for example, the houses of one of Jenelle and Jonathan’s favorite towns in Germany, Heppenheim.

The Bicycles of Amsterdam

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The Netherlands are home to some of the cleanest, most beautiful freeways you will ever see.  It’s also home to an amazing number of bicyclists. Maybe because the country is so flat, people ride their bikes everywhere.  As a result, in places like Amsterdam, you need bike parking lots like this one:

With so many people riding so many bikes, the Netherlands are a hotbed of bicycle innovation — kind of like the Silicon Valley of Bikes, except that there aren’t any valleys in the Netherlands.  One product of this is the Bakfiets, which is sort of the Dutch answer to the minivan.

The box on the front can carry packages, groceries or (preferably with seat belts) your kids.  Some appear more comfortable than others:

This one has a front platform that folds up when not in use:

Of course, this doesn’t mean that the Dutch neglect the traditional child bike seat:

And if you want some help with pedaling, try this one:

Fun Below Sea Level

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Last month the Little Women headed north for the Netherlands.  Mommy, Daddy and Grandma Fairbanks came along to keep them comfortable.  They stayed in a seaside town outside of Amsterdam.  Here are some highlights from what happened between the very long car rides:

They saw the world’s largest flower garden at Keukenhof . . .

. . . went shopping for shoes . . .

. . . watched the windmills go ’round . . .

. . . and learned how packages are delivered in the canals of Amsterdam.

Christmas in March

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Now that the holidays are long over, there’s time to talk about them.

Christmastime has always been the time of year when Jonathan misses living in Germany the most.  Christmas in Germany has a feel to it that somehow seems very authentic, perhaps because so many American Christmas traditions have roots in Germanic countries.

For her part, Jenelle had long wished to experience a German Christmas market.  And the Swiss Misses were begging their parents, “Please, please take us on a very long car ride to a place where we can be outside in cold, wet weather for hours at a time.”

The obvious solution was to visit Germany at Christmastime.  And so, in the first week of December (taking advantage of the Feast of Immaculate Conception holiday), the Vances took a week-long vacation in Franconia, in northern Bavaria.  They stayed at a lovely vacation apartment outside of Nuremberg, home of Germany’s most famous Christmas market.

Nuremberg’s Christmas market is famous for several seasonal goodies, including Lebkuchen and Prune People.

The Prune People are made of, well, prunes, along with unshelled walnuts and other things that one needs to make prunes and walnuts look sort of like people.  The appeal of Prune People is not immediately clear, though it probably becomes more plausible after a few beers.

The appeal of Lebkuchen, on the other hand, was immediately clear, so clear that there was none left over to photograph for this blog entry.  After eating too much cheap Lebkuchen during his mission in Germany, Jonathan learned that the really good stuff is made mostly from candied fruits and nuts (no flour).

In an attempt to keep the munchkins warm, their parents dressed them up nice and cozy.

It sort of worked.  Many people seemed to think that the three girls were triplets, and some tourists would stop to photograph the little ladies.

The Vances also saw the old town of Rothenburg ob der Tauber, which likewise had its Christmas market up and running.

Then they had the pleasure of visiting the very, very lovely city of Bamberg, whose buildings were spared during World War II.  This preserved the town’s old city hall, which was clearly designed by a committee.

They also saw the Vierzehnheiligenkirche (Basilica of the Fourteen Holy Helpers), a beautiful church in the countryside.

More photos here.

PF’s

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If you get squeamish reading about the smelly side of having little kids. . .

SKIP THIS POST.

You have been warned!

I am raising Poop Factories.  That’s the best way to describe the last several weeks.  I have sat in poop, had poop down my jeans, up my shirt, in my bra.  I’ve scraped it off bedroom floors, wiped it off underwear and the kids’ table, and found it smeared on high chairs and on sheets.  There have been pee puddles on my pants, on bedroom floors, and in the bathroom.  And that is just in two weeks.  I am done.  Done.  Done!  I’m disgusted out!

Nicolyn is the worst of the culprits.  I don’t know how she produces so much of the smelly stuff on a daily basis!  She has about three very large poopy diapers a day.  If she saves up for only one or two diapers worth, it is like a volcano and cannot be contained.  When we drove back from Nuremberg, Nicolyn’s diaper had exceeded its bounds.  Her carseat was covered.  Her pants were covered.  She was a stinky mess.  Clara had also pooped, but hers was contained in her carseat and diaper.  Jonathan had the poopified Nicolyn walk to the elevator and up to our apartment.  I followed with Annika and Clara.  As I started walking, I saw brown globs on the floor trailing all the way to the elevator.  Was it dirt?  Mud?  Of course, you know the answer.  It was the Poop Factory.  Yes, she had THAT much poo that she was prolifically dropping large remnants of the stuff out of her pant legs.  How can one little person produce so much?

Last week I was in another room and overheard Annika saying something about “wiping it off Clara’s foot”.  Those words can’t mean anything good.  I immediately went in and saw Annika trying to wipe poop off Clara’s foot (smear around would describe it better).  Then I saw a big mound of soft poo on the carpet next to Clara.  It was a little hard to find at first because our rug has a myriad of patterns and it kind of blended in.  But it was Nicolyn who was the poopy one.  She had exploded!  Clara had walked in it and Nicolyn had put her hand in it.  I’m proud to say, I calmly cleaned Clara, then also calmly moved on to Nicolyn.  It had exploded halfway up her back.  She had to be completely stripped.  After a while, she was finally cleaned and in a new diaper.  Then I, still calmly, cleaned the rug.  After the poo was cleaned up, I went to get the carpet cleaner (which we bought to clean up another poop incident).  I put the massive, disgusting diaper in its pail and went to wash my hands.  Those of you who wash your hands 20 times a day like me and whose hands are chapped and bleeding even with applying lotion after every wash, try to find ways to minimize yet another washing.  I say that to explain why I took time to use the bathroom myself.  I noticed as I was washing, that my pants felt a little wet, which I attributed to all the wipes I’d used.  Maybe I sat near one and it soaked my pants at little?  I looked in the mirror and saw a small poop blob on my chest.  A little annoyed and with no idea how that got there, I changed my shirt.  Then I got the carpet cleaner.  I walked down the hall back to the living room and saw it.  A poop blob on the ground.  I suddenly knew why my pants were moist feeling.  I saw another poop blob down the hall a bit further.  I turned around.  My backside was covered in poop!  And because I had used the bathroom, it had somehow made it into my pants and on my undergarments.  When I had changed my shirt, my undershirt still had poo on it.  The act of changing my shirt had moved my shirt enough to get poo on my undergarments.  I stripped down.  While taking off my shirt and undershirt – I somehow got it on my bra as well.  After completely changing every piece of clothing and cleaning up, I uncalmly went back into the living room, hoping the kids were not playing in whatever poo piles I hadn’t seen but sat in.  I tackled poo pile number two, checked for any more poo (none) and finally sprayed the cleaning spray, by now very irritated.

The last three days have been nonstop.  Clara has discovered how to take her pants and diaper off, particularly at nap and bedtime.  The first day, I walked in to find a log of poo along with a very large pee puddle on the floor with about six stuffed animals swimming in it.  Clara’s diaper was nearly dry, on the floor.  It had probably been off for several hours.  That was also the day Annika cut herself very slightly on a pear can.  She managed to still bleed several good-sized drops, which made her go ghost white and throw up on the floor right after she had eaten lunch.

The morning of the second day, I found both babies stripped down to their birthday suits, with Nicolyn’s poopy diaper on the floor (Clara was just wet).  They were mighty proud of their new abilities – wanting to show me all they had managed to take off.  I’m sure my reaction was not what they were hoping for.

Later on day two, Annika had “helped” the babies by giving them at least 50 tissues in rapid succession (caught her in the act), which they wiped their noses on and crumpled on the floor.  Add to this that these tissues are from our coveted remaining Costco tissue boxes we brought with us…I was not a happy camper.  While putting Annika in time out, the Poop Factory struck again.  I smelled poo and found Nicolyn and about 15 tissues covered in poo along with their children’s table, little chair, and the floor.  Her diaper was still on, but she had exploded.  Her shirt and pants were covered.

The evening of day two, I taped them into their diapers with packing tape (an idea I snagged from my friend Alie Thompson).  It seemed to work.  But for naptime today, day three, I forgot.  As I walked by their room after they had been in bed for an hour (note – “in bed” does not equal “asleep”), I could smell it.  Poop.  For it to be that strong of a smell, it could only mean one thing.  There was at least one diaperless babe in there.  Clara had done her business on Nicolyn’s bed, diaper free.  Poop was smeared on the sheet.  Nicolyn hadn’t gotten her diaper off, but managed to dig a big chunk out of her diaper to throw on the opposite floor.  They and their rooms are now cleaned, and they are taped into their diapers.  I think by now they may actually be asleep.

The bright side in all this bodily excrement is that Annika is now mostly potty trained!  She has gone a whole week without an accident of any kind (to earn a reward).  She has had her share, though, this past month, of poo and pee in places it shouldn’t be.  It’s kind of felt like a whole month of wading in the stuff with the three of them combined.

Thank you for your time.  I feel a little better.

Tracking the Vances

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Be thankful for this website — it can help you prepare for tough situations like this one: During your appearance on Jeopardy, you’re faced with the $1000 answer, “This doubly landlocked country was graced by Annika Vance during 2010.”  Because you saw it here, you’ll know that the question is, “What is ________________?”

Feeding Frenzy

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The babes are independent little ladies.  When they were six months old, they both refused to eat baby food.  After trying for six weeks, Jenelle finally plopped a large spoonful of baby food on the high chair tray in exasperation, and the ladies gobbled it up.  It wasn’t the baby food they didn’t like, it was the method of delivery.

Recently the babes clued into bowls and spoons.  Everyone else seemed to use them, and they were clearly missing out.

Here they are in August back in Oregon.  Not bad for the first time using a bowl and spoon:

In September in our vacation apartment in Switzerland:

And in October in our new digs:

Mealtime is still a trifle messy at our house.

How to Move a Family to Switzerland

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When Jenelle and Jonathan each last moved to Europe, they fit all of their possessions in a few pieces of checked and carry-on luggage.  They can report that moving a family of five is more complicated.  In fact, it may involve one or more of the following:

  • making a decision about each of your worldly possessions so that you can divide them into four piles (stuff to bring with you on the airplane, stuff to ship with the movers, stuff to place in storage, and stuff to discard);
  • traveling to Switzerland a few months before the move to look at apartments (and actually being blessed to find one to live in);
  • finding and hiring a mover to pack up your “for shipping” things (after you’ve inventoried them for insurance purposes);
  • finding renters and hiring a management company for your new rental property (i.e., your former home) while you’re gone;
  • making all of the minor repairs to your house that you’ve been putting off for years;
  • buying all of the things from home that you don’t think you’ll find in Switzerland (at least not at a reasonable price), including several years’ worth of kids clothes and activities;
  • obtaining or renewing passports;
  • obtaining visas for each family member;
  • talking a relative into coming with you to help watch the kids for the first two weeks in Switzerland (not as fun as it sounds, really);
  • selling or giving away your cars in the US;
  • determining how much storage space you need, finding a storage unit and then moving things into storage;
  • arriving at the airport with 12 pieces of checked luggage (plus four bicycles) and a questionable number of carry-ons;
  • flying for 13 hours from Portland to Amsterdam to Zurich (possibly discovering, a few hours into the trip, that you have only three diapers in your carry-on luggage);
  • spending four nights in an airport hotel in Zurich recovering from the flight;
  • enduring un-synchronized sleeping schedules of three children while they spend a week overcoming jet lag;
  • spending a month in a vacation apartment in a small Swiss town;
  • registering with the government;
  • opening a bank account in Switzerland and learning how to transfer funds into it from your US account;
  • arranging for a wide array of insurances;
  • learning your way around town so you can carry out your daily activities;
  • renting four different vehicles in Switzerland over a month to move your family and their stuff around the country;
  • buying a car in Switzerland;
  • shopping for furniture;
  • moving into your permanent apartment (still working on that one);
  • carting three kids in a stroller thru a small town while attempting to understand a dialect that many native German speakers consider incomprehensible;
  • finding a German class;
  • other details, big and small, that Jonathan won’t bore you with.

Jonathan and Jenelle are grateful that they didn’t have to do all of these things by themselves.  They would like to thank, among others: Jenelle’s sister, Lisa, for coming along; the Gibby family, for watching the kids, loaning the Vances their cars (yes, both of them), bringing luggage to the airport, and doing so many things that Jenelle and Jonathan didn’t have time for; Jenelle’s parents for helping with packing and preparing the house; Jonathan’s parents for watching the babies during the house-hunting trip; Tricia Batchlor for watching the kids; the Carroll family for food, transportation and a shoulder to cry on; Lisa Stott for watching the kids and being the other shoulder to cry on; Rachel Gunther and Lisa Poulsen for watching the kids; the good men of the Quatama Ward for moving stuff into storage; thoughtful neighbors for watching the house during the house-hunting trip; the German-American School of Portland for giving Jenelle a head start; Schindler Elevator for its generous support; Welcome Relocation for house-hunting and bureaucracy-navigation help; and countless others who have kept the Vances in their prayers and wished them well.