The Tempeh Can't Wait

Lately, since Olive has transitioned from her crib to a bed, she's been getting up and starting her days especially early - often before Rob and I are ready to get up, so she busies herself happily until we are.  However, she's taken to opening up the refrigerator to examine the contents and consider what she'd like for breakfast.  Yesterday we heard the refrigerator door open and some clattering ensue so Rob went to investigate.  What he found was Olive, on the floor with a slab of tempeh, setting to work boring a hole in the packaging with a knife she'd selected from the utensil drawer.  She had a very specific plan, that one.

Shortly afterwards, when Rob had made her eggs and vegetables for breakfast, she looked up and asked him, "But where's the tempeh?"

Remembering Europe

Yesterday while Olive was recounting our trip to Europe (as she often does), I asked her if she drove a car in Austria.  "No!  I drove in Vienna!"  It's true - she did get to drive a car in Vienna during our visit to the Prater, the amusement park there.  It was one of those little cars that went around on a track, and she was most amused by it, at least after the first time around.  She also rode a horse (on a carousel and a real one with me on the back), a carousel swan, a giant fan (Ferris wheel), ate a pretzel, sat down, and saw a fountain.  When talking about her first day in Vienna, she mentions all of these things.

We've been back in Pittsburgh for nearly four weeks and I'm still amazed that we were able to pull off such an extensive vacation.  It was truly the best I've ever taken and will be difficult to match, though we plan on returning in five years.  If we can make this a regular happening as often as that we'll be thrilled.  And next time, when Olive is seven or eight, she'll have even more stories to tell.

Here are some highlights (as told by me; I'm sure Rob and Olive have their own accounts):

Slea Head Drive, Dingle, Ireland.  After checking out of our delightful B&B, where we had a delectable Irish breakfast, we drove along this scenic road that winds around the peninsula on the western coast of Ireland.  I was awestruck as we made our way around the curvy, narrow roads, marveling at every turn at the breathtaking scenery that surrounded us on every side.  The ocean, the cliffs, cozy cottages and craggy rocks and hillsides dotted with white sheep.  I think Rob has a mind to retire there one day and I wouldn't be opposed to joining him.  

Paris.  Our single full day spent there was a full one, indeed, and though we didn't get to do half the things we would've liked to have done, it still made such a wonderful impression on me.  The catacombs and sewer tour were at the top of Rob's list of things to do, but since our day coincided with the Louvre's free admission day (the first Sunday of the month), we felt we needed to take advantage of that.  Though we arrived just after the doors opened, the line wound through the inner courtyard and out onto the street.  The estimated wait time was 2-3 hours.  I didn't know that I wanted to spend that chunk of time waiting in line but Rob was willing to earn his trip, so to speak.  We'd only waited about twenty minutes when a guard approached us and told us to come with him; because we had a small child we were ushered to the entrance, a gesture of such generosity of kindness we had not expected.  The museum itself was impressive - mostly because of its size.  I'm glad we went, but next time we're there I'm going to make a beeline for the Musée d'Orsay.  

Afterward we made our way to the catacombs.  After a bit of trouble finding the elusive underground tombs, we arrived at the door to find a sign telling us it was closed to the public because of ventilation problems.  We went to the Eiffel Tower instead.  Too exhausted to climb the tower's stairs (we'd already walked for miles and I'd gotten little sleep; a Saturday night with open windows facing out onto the streets of Montmartre made for a restless night for this light sleeper), we opted to enjoy the view from the bottom, stroll along the Seine, and hunt for lunch.  Choosing a restaurant even ten block from the tourist haven was a mistake, and we suffered through a less-than-mediocre meal, but we redeemed ourselves a few hours later when we happened upon a festival near our Metro station.  We browsed the tents with vendors selling a manner of edibles, then selected a slab of tomme cheese, three baguettes (the best I'd ever eaten), and some olive and tomato tapenade, brought it back to our hotel and picnicked on our bed.  I felt a twinge of guilt for turning in at 6 pm, but after schlepping around for nine hours with a worn-out - yet still pleasant - child, calling it a day was the wisest thing to do.  And Paris, despite living up to its heavy-smoking stereotype, turned out to be a city where I felt very much at home.  The Metro system was so efficient and easily navigable, the residents friendly and not at all rude to us Americans, and even my few years of middle and high school French came very much in handy, both in reading signs and communicating with the locals.  I tried to use their language as often as possible - so much so that long after we'd arrived in Austria I still found myself saying "Excusez-moi," when maneuvering through crowds.  That I didn't know the German translation was also a factor.

The Hotel Salzburger Hof in Salzburg.  While our time here was dampened by chilly rain, making our Sound of Music tour less enjoyable than it could've been and obscuring our views of the mountains and lake, we were fortunate to be able to hunker down during the worst weather of our trip in the nicest hotel imaginable.  Just a three minute walk from the train station, we settled in to our comfortable accommodations in the theme hotel (guests stayed in either Salzburg, Mozart, or Sound of Music rooms).  I wasn't sure whether ours was a Salzburg or Mozart room since it had a scene of the city on one of the walls but Mozart's profile on the frosted glass bathroom door, but it was nice, nonetheless, with a foyer, lounge area (where Buggy slept on the couch), our bedroom, and a pretty decked out bathroom with heated floors.  The best part of all was the breakfast, a smorgasbord of morning treats on which we gorged ourselves both days we were there.  I grew especially fond of the yogurt, fruit, and muesli, there were plenty of eggs and fruit for Buggy, and breads, cheeses, meats, and endless coffee for Rob.  I've never been one to skip out on breakfast so this was perfect.  We're looking forward to staying there again the next time.

Vienna.  I'd set my sights pretty high on this city for a long time, but it only lived up to my expectations.  We stayed in a beautiful and comfortable hotel on a nice street that was convenient to nearly everything.  We had two full days to spend there, both of which were perfect (with the exception of my birthday dinner, which we ranked worst meal on the trip, but I won't talk about that.  Nothing too terrible, just the worst of what we had).  On the first we set off on foot to the Upper Belvedere Palace, an art museum housing an impressive Gustav Klimt collection.  I thought the physical museum itself trumped the Louvre in every way, but I was disappointed that no photography was permitted.  The Klimt exhibit was amazing, as I'd expected.  We walked through the gardens outside, lamented the fact that we didn't have someone there to take our picture (so there are no photos of the three of us in existence, which I think is sad), then decided to forgo public transportation and walk to the Prater, only 2.5 miles away.  This was mainly for Olive's benefit, since she'd never been to an amusement park before, but I was pretty keen on seeing the Ferris wheel, which has been in operation for over one hundred years.  I have a real thing for those structures and old amusement parks in general, and I liked that we were there in the off season while there weren't too many visitors, even through many of the rides weren't open.  That evening, craving some good, clean, meatless fare, we found a vegetarian Taiwanese restaurant called - don't laugh - Vegetasia.  We ate like kings there, savoring every bite of our mock-meat dishes, steamed vegetable dumplings, miso soup, and sorbet for dessert.  It certainly wasn't local fare, but it was the best food I ate in the entire two weeks.

The next day, Rob's birthday, we went to the Tiergarten Schönbrunn, Vienna's zoo, the oldest in the world.  While not as impressed initially, we found the deeper we explored the grounds the better the exhibits became.  The orangutan enclosures were exquisite, to say the least.  It made us so happy to see the amount of space, the enrichment, and cleanliness that those particular animals were given.  Rob was especially delighted to see a mixed exhibit of his all-time favorite trifecta of species: tapirs, capybaras, and giant anteaters.  I kept thinking of how much he'd love to be in the position of caring for these animals and began to encourage him to learn German and apply for a job there.  

Prague.  Through couchsurfing.org we found the most compatible and gracious hostess, Marie, who met us at the train station when we arrived.  She gave us her bedroom, which doubled as the living area in the flat she shared with her brother (their parents lived on the ground floor), made us a simple but delicious dinner of beet and cabbage soup, and gave Olive books and toys to play with.  The next day she accompanied us downtown to the Mucha Museum, which was a big inspiration for me to go to Prague in the first place.  Having spent her entire life in Prague, Marie had never been to the little museum and was eager to tag along.  I could have spent the whole day there just ogling the works, absorbing the colors, tracing his delicate and meticulous lifework with my eyes, fawning over the beauty of every mark he made.  Marie, also a fan, described his work as "kitsch", which I could understand.  While not exactly fine art, his work was very commercial and still tends to be.  Still, I can help but  adore the elegance of it, and all around the city were echoes of his influence in the Art Nouveau decor that adorned the buildings.  

Best of all, though, was having over two weeks of completely uninterrupted time with Rob and Olive and to be able to turn it into such an adventure.  Some people were skeptical about the idea of us bringing a two year-old to Europe, and there were certainly times before we left when I wondered if I might later regret the decision, but having her along made it better, not to mention proved that international travel with a young toddler isn't as daunting a task as one might presume.  We crammed in a lot in two weeks but it never felt like too much, and looking back on it, through the hundreds of pictures we took, it really was the perfect family vacation.

Oh, and there are no pictures because the ones I would've posted here are already on Facebook.  It's taken me this long just to post about the trip and if I went to the trouble of adding photos this would never get done, so here it is.

Things a Sweet Girl Says

I've hit a block while typing a blog about our trip.  I'm trying to keep it concise while wanting to include the highlights (which were abundant).  In the meantime, here are a few recent sayings from Olive:

-While on our longish drive from Dingle, on the west coast of Ireland, back to Dublin, she was making requests for me to draw things for her - Papa, me, a cup of yogurt - and when I handed her the pad with the sketch of a strawberry yogurt she praised my efforts: "Ah, good job, Mom!"  "Mom" has become a sort of saying with her, much like man or dude, and doesn't apply necessarily to me.  I'm still "Mama" to her, for now.

-When leaving Marie's house in Prague (Marie hosted us through couchsurfing.org), she began wishing her a happy birthday (we'd just come off of Rob's and my birthdays and she was finally prepared to wish someone a happy one, even if it was two months early).

-Yesterday I told her I liked her blue eyes.  "I like your brown eyes!," she replied.

-"Oh, beautiful Gray!," she's been saying lately to our cat, Wendell.  It wasn't an adjective we'd ever used in reference to him, that's for sure.  Not that he's not a handsome cat, but his dopey ways override his good looks.

-Overheard while playing with her Quantum Leap globe (If anyone knows a kid that is passionate about geography, I suggest getting this toy.  It's great).  "Mongolia!  Good job, Mom!"  She's also been asking for help locating "Opiopia" (Ethiopia), bringing me back to the time in my childhood when I couldn't get enough of our globe and finding the countries in Africa.  She's delighted that she can pick out Prague and Vienna amongst the crowded mass that is Europe.  Despite bringing her at such a young age, I believe she'll retain quite a bit of it, as long as we continue to revisit through stories and photographs.

-She's proving to be an effective tool for quitting my near-lifelong nail biting habit.  Today in the car while I was gnawing on a fingernail she chirped from the back seat, "Don't put your fingers in your mouth!"  Busted.

-While waiting at the post office this morning she was saying, to no one in particular, "Hi.  My name is Wanda."  We're not sure where this Wanda business came from, but it wasn't the first time she'd made an appearance.

Itinerary

Being the sort who is most productive when time is slipping away from me (we leave on Monday), I've just about nailed down all of the details of our trip.  For those who are curious, here's our schedule:

October 1: Fly overnight from Pittsburgh and arrive in Dublin in the morning (what will feel like 3:45 am to us.  I'm dreading this part.
October 2: Rent a car and drive west to Galway and stay with my boss, Lisa's, aunt.  Here we'll explore the coast and take in the scenery that, for reasons still not clear, never called to me.  I think it's the food that's been the biggest deterrent - so boiled, so white.
October 4: Return to Dublin and stay the night.
October 5: Take ferry to London.  Spend the night.  That's it.
October 6: Take train to Paris.  I'm excited about this one.  I've been told many times that I should go.  I love the language and feel like I know enough of it to get by without needed to be coddled in English.  I know how the French are, and I like it.  The Louvre and Musée d'Orsay are biggies, as are the catacombs, a tour of the sewers, and, at Bruce's urging, St. Chapelle.
October 8: Take train to Salzburg.  Austria alone was the driving force behind this trip - for me, at least.  After hearing Gi-Gi speak so fondly of it I developed my own vicarious interest, bolstered by my love of The Sound of Music.  It goes without saying that we're signed up for the four-hour official tour on the 9th.  I decided that we should stay an extra day to take in the magnificent landscape of Alps and lakes.
October 10: Take train to Vienna.  This is a city that, thanks in large part to John Irving, my favorite writer, many of whose novels are set there, also lodged itself in my imagination and became a destination I longed to visit.  It stands to reason that I should want to spend my birthday in both Austrian cities because, you know, you only turn thirty-one once.  Vienna is home to the work of some of my favorite artists - Gustave Klimt and Egon Schiele, specifically - from the Secessionist movement. Cool, weird, beautiful stuff.  There's also the Prater, the hundred year-old amusement park, and the zoo, and the Opera House (from 'The Hotel New Hampshire!')
October 13: Take train to Prague.  I set my sights on this city because of - why else? - the Mucha Museum.  Alphonse Mucha, a prominent figure in Art Nouveau, was Czech and many of his works can be seen around the city.  Prague itself, from what I've heard and seen in pictures, is stunning, but I needed no other reason to go.  We're also staying with Marie, a woman who offered to share her bedroom with us in the flat she shares with her brother and cats.  This will be extra fun.
October 16: Fly to Dublin and stay the night.
October 17: Fly to Pittsburgh.

That's it in a nutshell.  I'm growing more and more eager as October gets closer.  We have our cat-sitter and rides to and from the airport arranged.  Rent has been paid.  My pal Alex has the stand covered, and Olive, that funny kid, decided to quit taking naps at the most opportune time.  Not that she won't be completely thrown out of whack by the jet lag, so it probably won't make a difference either way.

See?  Just like Rob and me.  Maybe if he's feeling extra sweet he'll reenact that scene from the movie that's always made me feel ill.  Of course he will.

Rob Cramer, Eater of Cats

We're entering into the phase of funny things toddlers say.  I knew it was coming, having a handful of nieces and a nephew whose innocently witty utterances occur on a regular basis.  I wasn't home to witness it this morning, but here is Rob's account:

This morning while I was looking at the crossword puzzle, Olive walked up to me and deposited something imaginary into my hand. Usually when she does this, it is an imaginary culinary delight that she whipped up in her kitchen (she has been experimenting with cabbage dishes lately) so naturally I popped the invisible gift into my mouth. She stopped and stared at me a little strangely and said, "Poppa just ate a little kitty." Oops!

That she didn't just play along with the charade was what got me laughing.  That thing she'd placed in his hand had been a kitty all along to her - why couldn't he see that?  Even she knows that in our house we don't eat little kitties.  Her father's behavior was perplexing, indeed.

Pittsburgh Alternative Health

Yesterday I had an amazing experience at Pittsburgh Alternative Health.  I had the EAV test done and it was pretty enlightening.  I looked all over for what EAV means and finally came across this, and it stands for Electro Acupuncture by Voll.  A simpler way to explain the procedure is this: you hold a copper rod in your left hand and the naturopath takes a conical metal device and presses it into pressure points on the fingers of your right hand.  The machine is hooked up to the computer so I was able to watch it read my responses to every sort of food, additive, and environmental influence imaginable.  I worried that I might learn about a dozen things to which my body responds negatively and have to severely amend my lifestyle, so I was relieved to find out that only a few things upset the harmony of my body: MSG (a total non-issue), dioxin (a byproduct of burning plastic, which hardly comes as a surprise and, being that I live in a city with some of the worst air in the country, is hard to avoid), mold (also expected since we live in an old house where mold spores are plentiful), wheat (though fortunately not gluten), shellfish (also something I avoid anyway), grapes, and raisins.  These final two were more surprising; I've never heard of grape intolerance, but there it is.  I've enjoyed grapes most of the summer, and raisins are staples for my oatmeal, but I'll get by.  At least oatmeal's not off the table.  I'm looking into getting an air purifier and will do my best to avoid the things on the list (at least while not in Europe; all bets are off there) to allow my body to better combat whatever it is that's been attacking my lower extremities.  I have high hopes that modifying my diet will alleviate the problem.  And for anyone interested in improving their total well-being, I highly recommend visiting your local naturopath and having this procedure performed.  It's fascinating.

Playing Hooky

I've been surprised to learn lately how early children are heading off to "school".  From as early as a year I've known little ones whose parents sent them away during the week to environments of learning and, while I do see the merit in theory of this, I still can't help but to shake my head in disbelief.  I remember going to pre-school at three before starting kindergarten at four, then proceeding to first grade and so on, but earlier than three just makes me wonder. While something about this just wasn't sitting right with me I felt like my reservations about it may be rooted more in my unfamiliarity with that schedule and my feeling that some children simply aren't quite ready to be tossed into those sorts of social settings before a certain age.  I've been asked countless times by friends and acquaintances whether I've found a preschool for Olive, even though this was never a consideration from the start for us.  Then I came across this article.  While I by no means take this study as the only right way, it sure did make a lot of sense to me.  Olive thrives in a home learning environment and gets on well with all sorts of folks, though she could still use a little work in the peer department since her interactions occur largely with adults.  The bit about peers wanting to mimic one another and feel the need to be like others in order to fit in really resonated with me, though.  When I was a teacher I witnessed proof of that on a daily basis - far more than seemed healthy or appropriate, and I'd much prefer for my child to not be burdened with the premature pressure to be like someone else.  Regardless of your stance on childhood education, I feel like it's worth the read.