What I managed to do today...

1) get the kids dressed and Stu to school on time (it was tight this morning)
2) come home and get Julia to finish her breakfast and eat something myself
3) get Julia to her reading group at the library and pick out two books afterwards (well I pcked one for Stu in about a minute and a half, she took the other 25 minutes choosing)
4) pick Stu up at school, come home, make lunch, feed children
5) drop Stu back at school (another tight one), play with Julia in the park for 12 minutes, then drive to nursery school and drop her off
6) go to Home Depot to buy extractor fan that does not sound like a jet engine taking off in our kitchen(as current one does) and is not covered in grease that I can't get off no matter how hard I try (again, current one). Leave Home Depot with fan, a new chandelier (our one From Lux can be installed no prob - but no one sells bulbs that fit) and a bunch of light bulbs that I am hoping will fit in the kids lights (they don't).
7) buy Groceries
8) pick up Stu, drive to Julia's nursery school and do some of his homework in the car while we wait the 5 minutes to get her
9) come home and unload car
10) discuss with contractors working on basement
11) cook healthy meal for family (Proud of this one - we've had more take-out/junk food than I will admit to in the last month
12) clear dishes
13) practiced Stu's dictee words for his spelling test tomorrow morning (ran out of patience, Marc had to do the second go round)
14) got Julia to sleep
15) wrote this post

I am exhausted. I needed to actually write down what I did today because it seems like nothing, but I am wiped.

This whole "Mum's Taxi" thing is way more work than I realized it would be. May need cattle prod to get kids moving so I am not always speeding on way to school (mostly joking).

Thanks to Lisa for the homework suggestions - teacher told us not to do more than 15-20 minutes a day (she obviuosly has yet to view the Stu at his s-l-o-w-e-s-t...) and, as Lisa also suggested, to take breaks. And to try and do someo on weekends and not to hesitate to tell her if we can't get it done during the week and we will work together. I think she's pretty cool.

And potential good news on the home renovation front (dare I say it?? Am I jinxing us??) - the contractor has plans to be in here early next week too and... they think they can be done by next Wednesday (not including the bathroom downstairs) WOO HOO!

Now let's hpe Marc's appointment witht he carpet guy tomorrow has him saying we can have carpet sooner rather than later...

Are things looking up?? Fingers crossed!!!

Limbo

This morning my mother read my blog. And called me before 9 am to tell me that I don't sound very happy.

And yeah, I guess I haven't found my way out of the bitter barn yet.

I had this great post in my head to explain it - how we are tired of living in limbo, that the contractor informing us that he wasn't coming back for another 2 or probably 3 weeks, really threw me for a loop. We've been tripping over stuff that we didn't want to put in the basement beause it was about to be finished and then we could really get on with real life - unpack the rest of the kids toys (because all of the interesting ones seem to still be in the boxes) and have a TV, and well - hang all our pictures (Marc's office is in our bedroom at the moment which is convenient for blogging late at night, but not so nice the rest of the time).

Anyhow I am running on. In general we had been waiting for the contractor to come back in to fix a bunch of other things too - like the fact that we still have plywood stairs going upstairs. And no basement. And half a laundry room. And nowhere to put anything.

He pushed the carpet ball into our court (yes, pushed... he's a lovely man, he gently pushed to see if we would handle it - which I of course was all over like a fat kid on a Smartie- control of SOMETHING!! Yeah!!) but his contact is out on vacation until Thursday and his replacement has not returned my calls. The one thing I thought I could get done - yeah not so much. As a results oriented person I found it - well slightly demoralising.

So over the weekend, when I blew a gasket over moving things from one place to another (this was the prelude to realizing I was sick - I was in a LOVELY mood, breathing fire and all) I informed Marc that we were going to start using the basement. Because we could clean it up in a few weeks before he came, but that I was fed up of tryign to cram 2200 sq feet (old house, minus a few things, but we had a huge attic) into 1100 sq feet (new house, yes we still need to do some downsizing).

So by Sunday night we had moved a bunch of boxes down, found the kitchen, bought a big TV that we couldn't install but got on sale, plus all the other stuff that goes with it (I am useless in this department, there are subwoofers etc - that word always makes me think of dogs).

And by that point I realized I felt awful, and then add on Stu and the whole homework thing yesterday and bam, there I am down in the dumps again.

Then out of the blue the contractor sends us an email late last night saying that they can work in our house for 3 days this week, is that okay.

Uh - YEAH! Only now we have to try and clear out the basement - tonight. Oooof. With the help of our neighbour Steve (and his wonderful wife Karen - she has been a life saver since we arrived and I don't know what we'd do without them) and yet MORE of their garage, we have an empty basement this evening. I have seen the list of things that the contractor has put together for the guys to do and if they do it all - well my house will be nearly finished by Friday night!! I am trying not to get too hopeful, but fingers crossed. Now if we could get some carpet in...

And I am off to Montreal on Friday for the day with Julia. She doesn't have preschool, Stu has sub (as in sandwich) day at school and Marc can pick him up at 3, so Joolsies and I are going to hop in the car after dropping Stu off and hopefully (traffic permitting) pick my mum up around 10:30 at her house and go shopping at Fairview (mall I've been going to since I was a baby - they have an H & M, I am in such withdrawal) and then to Ikea and hopefully visit with my Opa at some point before heading home. Oh yeah, and pick up some Montreal bagels. Basically what I have been longing to do for years now - just get in the car and visit my mum for the day.

On the Stu front - he brought home extra work again today. In fact he even brought some home at LUNCH. I am already finding lunches pretty tight - the drive to the school is only about 5 minutes, but by the time I get him and Julia out of the school, into the car and home there's 10 minutes of his lunch hour gone and then there's the whole leaving 40 minutes later to take him back on time and then get her to preschool.

And somewhere in there they both should have had a healthy lunch.

Have I ever mentioned that my kids are really really slow eaters?

I blame it on them being born in a country where most businesses shut down from 12-2 pm for everyone to go home for a nice cooked meal. You know, whole meat and potatoes and veg type of thing (and no, we didn't do the whole big lunch thing, but they still managed to fill the time as if sensing that htere should be more to what they were being served).

So homework at lunch (luckily it was just writing two sentences! but that's a lot for Stu right now) was a bit of a stretch for me. The good news is that the teacher came to talk to me when we were leaving (cut another 4 minutes off that 40 to eat) and told me that he had worked really hard for the first 40 minutes of the morning and earned two stickers and that everyone in the class had clapped for him and she was really proud of him (I had also sent a note this morning saying he hadslept very badly and has been having nightmares for the last few nights - he keeps crawling into our bed). We all had a bit of a talk, I asked about this D he is so worried about (he got a D on something and is now worried it will be on his report card) and I think she's a very nice woman and a good teacher. And maybe - if I survive - she will be good for him because she is pushing him, which is something I am just not able to sustain a lot of the time because he pushes back SO HARD.

It's just such a fine line between challenging him enough to see his potential and turning him off school - poor thing, he's only 5 (okay, 6 soon) and he's worried about dissapointing me with his report card (she handled that really well when it came up). We will have to see how it goes - but he's going to have to pick up the pace a little. This evening we met a couple of boys 2 grades ahead of him, one of whom lives a few houses away and who were out playing with - wait for it - LIGHT SABRES. Too cool. We went over and chatted and his mum said that Stu has to come by and play in the evenings if they are out. I pointed out that if we could get all out work done at school there would be time - trying to motivate him not to have extra homework.

As for me - well I think I may have been right in my self-diagnosis and was smart to start the emergency reserve of anitbiotics. I am feeling slightly more human today and hopefully will be back to normal by the weekend... (I seem to have a lot of hope that a lot of things will be done by the weekend - my sinus infection, the basement...)

Tomorrow night is Meet the Teacher and I just realized I have about 20 pages of reading I have to do - and it's 11 pm already...

Advice welcome...

I just spent an hour and 40 minutes doing homework with Stuart.

He's 5.

An hour of it was work he had not managed to finish in class - in his homeroom class and in his art class. The art part took the hour, the stuff he didn't finish in school took a lot less and then we did the words for his dictee.

The guidelines in the parent handbook say 10 minutes a day for Grade One. Well the dictee takes at least that long (maybe I care too much??), but I do concede that the other stuff is pretty quick.

We "knew" that this was going to be a big jump for him - because of the different age cut-off dates between Luxembourg (30 August) and Ontario (31 December) he skipped Senior Kindergarten. His class in Luxembourg was a mixed Jr/Sr Kindergarten and the teacher told me that he's a bright boy who often knew the answers to things that the second years didn't. But that his fine motor skills needed some work.

His teacher here told me the first week that he needed to learn to focus and I explained that he had skipped a grade. She said no worries we would work on in together (she's always in a rush) once things settled down (I think it was the day after the unpacking service ended up being 3.5 hours - for all the stuff that took 3 full days to pack, I was a little overwhelmed). She said he was a very bright boy, that she could tell, but that he would need to apply himself.

I am getting notes from the teacher saying that he is working slow, or today that he was very distracted in class. The double whammy of homework from two teachers today has thrown me for a loop.

I know he has a short attention span - as in if he's not in the mood to do something he's not going to do it. We've been through this several times - violin lessons that he insisted on taking, then wouldn't play at the classes, LIttle Gym that he HAD to go to and then spent almost every class trying to come out to see me, and even Karate where he would try and go to the bathroom every 10 minutes. There was a week when I dragged him out in the middle of the class because he was refused the bathroom and spent the next 15 minutes howling (he really didn't have to go, he'd been before we left for class and when we got to class, I am not cruel).

The kid doesn't seem (to his frustrated and neurotic mother) to have sticking power. And it's one thing when it comes to extra-curricular activities, but this is school now.

I told him today that all the time we spent doing homework could have been used to do something fun - like going to the park on a nice day (Marc came home and took Julia out to the park). I am hoping that a lot of positive reinforcement and incentives like play time will help.

But any advice is welcome. I am new to this whole homework thing. And there's going to be a lot of days when Marc won't be around to take Julia to the park so we can do close to two hours of homework.

It also doesn't help that I am sick again. It started last week with a sinus headache, turned into a sore throat, then spread (as it always does) to my sinuses. Today it's also hitting the chest so I broke out the antibiotics that my ENT prescribed for an emergency before we left Luxembourg. I feel lousy, which doesn't help when you're trying to be a nurturing parent. Not to mention it's bringing back a whole lot of bad memories of the last 6 months we were in Lux - I don't want to play this game again.

Dinner time - thanks to my wonderful husband who let me stay in bed until 2:30 this aft.

Out of the bitter barn

I have been waiting all day to go to bed and now that it's time to sleep I can't so I thought I would post instead.

Today proved once again that the world is a very small place - I was in a kids' consignment shop and my neighbour was there for her strollercize class - we had a brief word about Julia's ALL DRESSES ALL THE TIME attitude (hence the consignment shop when we already have too much stuff in the house - the girl needs some dresses for nursery school). A woman standing next to us piped up with some advice on wearing jeans under dresses... anyhow, long story short (okay, as short as I ever make them), we get to chatting and it turns out that her best friend lives in Luxembourg. And that I know her. Not really well, but we were in the same Moms & Tots group and at some parties together. Weird huh?

I don't know if it was the whole talking about Luxembourg with someone who has been there several times (the woman lived in Grenoble until a year ago). Or the horrible sinus headache I had (first one I have had since we moved out of our house in Luxembourg - it really brought me down because after 6 months of constant headaches I hadn't had them for a month). But either way I sat down with Marc this aft and had a good cry about everything that is so horribly difficult and uncertain in our lives right now.

I feel very strange about being here - it's almost like the last 7.5 years didn't really happen. Like we're stuck in some episode of Star Trek where there is an alternate reality that is getting mixed up with ours. And talking to this woman made Luxembourg real again somehow, and I felt really homesick and displaced.

Our friend Hugh's mother put it really well when we saw her a couple of weeks ago. Her husband used to do sabaticals and when they would come back to Canada afterwards - it felt weird to just be normal people. You get so used to being "different" as an ex-pat that it feels strange just to be like everyone else again.

But you know what? I think the cry helped. But I also realized that I will only feel miserable if I let myself feel miserable, and me being crabby on top of the kids being out of sorts isn't going to make anything better (Only child syndrome - I am having a hard time dealing with the squabbling and bickering which seems to have reached an all time high).

Things are not going as expected at the moment, and the change is more difficult than we thought it would be, but it's time to just stop getting upset about things and just get on with it.

Not to mention that I seem to be making some new friends - I got to talking to a woman in the grocery store checkout the other day - I know, I sound like I just go around talking to anyone, but her daughter started talking to Julia, and it turned out they were born 5 days apart... okay, I must be tired, that sentence got completely away from me but I am too tired to try and reconstruct it. What I was trying to say is that I actually asked this very nice woman with a 3 year old daughter if I could give her my number and she gave me hers and two days later she called to tell me about a gymnastics class that they go to, which we are now registered for. Might sound normal to some people, but I am usually far too shy to do that type of thing. I am trying to be better about building a network here than I was in Luxembourg.

And now I am going to try and get to bed so that I am not ready for a nap when Julia has her first pre-school ballet class tomorrow afternoon. I am not sure who is more excited about her wearing a little pink leotard and tights - her or me!

Th 5 minute update

I am permitting myself a 5 minute break to write a very quick update.

Julia has taken VERY well to nursery school - she LOVES going. She goes 4 afternoons a week and this has been her first week. This morning she insisted on putting her Dora backpack om to take Stuart to school and couldn't understand why I wouldn't take her to school too. She's having a blast. There was a bit of a mix up over the program she was registered for so she is with one teacher for Mondays and Wednesdays (the supposed "Bilingual" program, but I realized right away that I, and possibly Jools, speak better French than the teacher) and Tuesdays and Thursdays in the "enriched" program with 4 & 5 year olds. I was a little nervous because she's really young for the group (having just turned 3 in May) but she loves the teacher and has a new little best friend called Maggie in the Tues/Thurs group and even though it was only their 2nd time seeing each other they were all grinny when they met up today. Yeah!

Stu is settling in better than we had hoped, but it's a big change for him. He has skipped Senior Kindergarten and gone straight to grade one because the age cut off in Ontario in different than Luxembourg and it's a lot to deal with on top of everything else. We're spending a lot of time working on his writing and practicing the words for his Dictee (spelling test) on Friday... I was a little concerned but today the teacher commented when I picked him up at lunch that he had worked much faster this morning. She seems really nice...? I've heard nothing but good things about her. AND - he got a sticker this morning for working fast.

Well there's my 5 minutes up and I have to go and get the boy so I can go and get the girl... seems like I spend most of my days in the car going to and fro - I guess this is what being a stay at home mum is all about!

When I dropped Julia off today there was a woman who asked where we'd lived before and I said Luxembourg and she had friends who lived there until recently and she said "Oh I love Luxembourg, it's so pretty" and I said "You've actually been to Luxembourg?" (No one ever seems to have been) and realized I was holding her arm... I guess Stu's not the only one who's homesick.

REALLY have to go now... the kiss and ride line-up is a nightmare at 3 pm...

Home

We are here.

In our house (which is WAY smaller than we remembered). And we got internet this morning.

To be honest, things have not gone well since we arrived (reno problems, dishwasher leaks, gas leaks ... so much to talk about!)

We are suffering major reverse culture shock, and I am surprised Marc has not hidden my passport to ensure I don't grab the next flight to Europe.

We are not having fun at the moment. Can anyone please provide date/time when things will be better? I'm willing to take an approximation at the moment.

So I am posting just to post. Oh - and to say that I was shocked this morning. I went to get gas on the way back from the school run (no bus for Stu. NO WAY, NO HOW is his motto) and I stopped into Tim Horton's for a couple of coffees (for those of you not familiar with Tim Horton's Donuts, apparently you can't live in Ottawa if you don't carry around a brown Timmy's cup of coffee - Starbucks has nothing on this place!)

ANYHOW - what really bugged me (as so many things do at the moment) was the HUGE long line up for the drive through - not because I wanted to use it, because there were only two cars parked in the parking lot and I used my able legs to walk in, order my coffee and walk out in about 42 seconds. I just can't get over how negligent some people are - sitting in their cars for up to 10 minutes (I am guessing here, but humour me, it's just a safe thing to do these days) with the cars running (HELLO? Global warming folks??) instead of getting out and walking in on a beautiful sunny, warm morning.

Okay I am going to to go and take my grumpy butt to bed now. I promise to try and write more intresting, less self-pitying posts in the near-ish future!

Leaving Luxembourg

Today is our last day in Luxembourg - it is very strange to type that. To comprehend that in 25 hours we will be getting on a plane and leaving here and not coming back.

Wow.

Yes, I realize that I should have been aware that this day was coming, but now that it is here it feels really... strange.

While logistically these last few days here were necessary they've made leaving harder - I think if we'd just gone on the 3rd when we vacated the house it would have been all the gut-wrenching at the same time. Coming back for two days and now 3 makes it feel a little less real somehow.

But it did mean that we got to see Cathie for dinner last night and will be hitting the Schuberfouer this aft/evening to say a few more goodbyes.

But on to logistics - we have 5 bags to sort through (I can't wait for the container to arrive in Ottawa and to stop living out of suitcases!) and stuff to try and get rid of because we are WAY over our baggage allowance.

So Addi Letzebuerg - where the sun is actually shining for once.

More from the other side of the Atlantic in a few days/weeks... lots of vacation stories to tell!!

I have to start going to bed before midnight

because I have been very grumpy the past few mornings. But I need to let my toe polish dry (Greece tomorrow - sandals!!) so I thought I would post a quick update.

The move was eventually over. They were supposed to be finished packing at 4:30 on Thursday and load on Friday morning. They were still packing at 4:30 on Friday and the loading guy had taken over the packing (why didn't they send him on day one?). Anyhow it got done. I am just terrified of what it's going to look like on the other end.

Had a lovely night at Hotel Parc Belair, inclusive of dessert and coffee with Marie, Andres and Noah (who dozed most of the time) in the Parc and then got up for our Scandinavian adventure.

More details about our wonderful trip to follow in following posts... can I tell you (briefly - as brief as I can be) about getting there?

Marc gets the suitcase rammed on his toe getting into the elevator (kids fighting over who was going to press the button, I stepped back... ugly scene) We are late for airport (we are usually never late because Marc is always early, but usually there is no one there so we opted for the 1 hour check-in (ok in Lux). Long-term parking is full. Kindly man finds us a spot.

There are hundreds of people checking in. HUNDREDS. I've never seen so many people in the Luxembourg airport, I am sure it was some kind of record. Finally get called to the front of the line to check in. Phew. Then not so Phew. Only 3 of us can get on, the flight is overbooked to Copenhagen. We end up having to split up, Marc taking the kids and luggage (it was his friend we were going to stay with) and I was to follow via Paris to Stockholm and arrive 3 hours later.

Not so bad until I get the text messages about the luggage - Marc saw it refused for his flight ("Last call passenger...") and asked them to redirect it to my flight - which was leaving only 15 minutes later.

Want to hear about how I ran around Charles de Gaulle trying to find out where our luggage was? Naw, didn't think so. Or that my cell phone (or the extra cell phone - Marc had mine) stopped working because the pre-paid ran out?

There will have to be a post on my adventure buying a FRENCH SIM card for my phone (really, it's a post in it's own) that didn't even work outside of France (why would it? I was leaving the centre of the universe).

I finally got to Stockholm (in Business Class on Air France, TWO glasses of champagne thank you!), shopping on my way out for undies etc. I was bright enough to ask about the luggage (I had the tag numbers) and low and behold - they had ust arrived from Frankfurt with a whole bunch of others that must not have made it to Marc's flight.

I proudly drag the bags out to arrivals and... there's no Marc. Or Peter. That is one I will save for the post about the French SIM card (which wasn't working in Stockholm). Anna was there but we'd never met, and I wasn't supposed to have luggage etc.

Incidentally Marc was at the doctor who wanted to stich his poor toe but it had been more than 6 hours so it was too late.

It all turned out okay in the end. I finally decided to go back to the arrivals thing and wait for someone to find me (Remember learning that as a kid? Don't go anywhere, stay put.) Anna found me.

We are currently at our friend Liz and Andy's house. Got here yesterday evening and are leaving in the morning for Greece. I feel horrible but it hasn't even sunk in, I have so much to get ready in the morning, I just feel like crawling under a rock.

How spoiled does that sound?? I know, I should be smacked, don't like myself much for it.

It's just been hard travelling with two small kids on whacked out schedules and it's been REALLY hard being back in Luxembourg for a few days. Such conflicting feelings, excited to go, sad to leave. Home, yet no longer home. Too many emotions.

And then I had to hand over my car this evening. My 1999 Periwinkle Blue FIAT Bravo that Marc bought when he thought he was only going to be here 6 months. I LOVED that car. I shed not a single tear over the house, but Marc found me in Andy's garage last night hugging the back of my car in floods of tears. I mean floods, like when Juli has a 3 year old meltdown.

Only consolation - it has gone to a very nice family (Canadian) and I know Glenn will take good care of my baby. Even the kids cried and hugged Mama's car.

I think I should go to bed now because I am posting about crying over my car. It's just everything I think, everything all at once, and yet taking so long.

But I promise to write more about my SIM card adventures and all about our Scandinavian trip (which was WONDERFUL) at a later date.

Next post might be from our laptop in Ottawa!!

When I get all Europe homesick...

Please refer me back to this post. Really please do because this is a huge part of why we are going home.

Last night I took my allergy pill at 10:30. I guess the movers had the windows open yesterday because by 10:30 (soaking in my wonderful Fruit et Passion bath) I was sniffly, sneezy, coughing and scratching at my throat because it was so itchy.

It took an hour to kick in and I went to sleep at 11:30 pm.

Only to wake up at 5:30 am - sniffly, sneezy, coughing and scratching my throat.

Did I mention that they are 24 hour allergy pills? And the strongest thing they will prescribe for me here?

So "BAD" allergy season (as opposed to "good" when the meds mostly work) seems to have started again for me. Which means within a few weeks I will have a sinus infection, that will take until about next spring to finally clear up properly after several doses of antibiotics and cortisone (I have no proof of this other than the last 3 years of the same situation).

So I have taken ANOTHER allergy pill - since I seem to have replaced my nose with a faucet and haven't stopped coughing for the last 1/2 hour. Nose spray seems to have had no effect either.

I am cranky and feel lousy - and this is NOT how I want to live my life. I used to be a fun person. I don't want to be the mum always snipping at her kids because she's feeling lousy (for something stupid like allergies) and I don't want to continue to have to buy purses so large that they can accommodate a roll of toilet paper for nose blowing (since I invariably fail to stock up on enough Kleenex). I don't want to be terrified of opening the windows of my home in case I can't breathe (I am an open window kinda girl and with no forced air in houses over here you have to open your windows or the air gets soooooooo stale).

Anyhow, up and at 'em. My buddies the movers arrive in 30 minutes (and really take the computer this time). Maybe the extra allergy pill will make me dopey and I won't get so frustrated with them :-p

Now that's classy

I am sitting on my mattress (which is on the floor), laptop on my lap (appropriate, no?) and drinking wine from the bottle.

Yup, right from the bottle. Classy, huh?

Seriously though, I have not turned into a wino (despite my recent Kir Royal fixation - we are obviously out of champagne if I am on the wine). It's just that there are no glasses in my house that I can use and there is less than a glass left in the bottle.

And Marc just left to play pool with the only utensil that could be used to open a beer bottle (no twist tops here!).

So I HAVE to glug my wine from the bottle. Really.

The house is supposed to be fully packed - and is NOT. I am not going to freak, though I did get Marc to call the movers today and complain and now there will be 6 men here tomorrow to get our container loaded - 3 to finish packing and 3 to load.
Hopefully the one who spent 8 hours in my basement, managed to miss a whole store room (???) and still didn't finish what I could have done myself in 3 hours - well hopefully he's on loading instead.

Yes, I am in a lovely mood ;-)

In good news - we sold the car it would appear!! We've been desperate, I had it listed on two popular sites (one where it got checked out 157 times - and no takers!) It's a Lancia Lybra (part of the Fiat/Alfa Romeo family) in great shape with low kilometres, but Burgers don't like Italian cars (so we've been told?) and we couldn't even get used car dealers to take it.

The Auto club told us it was worth 12,000 EUR in a private sale, and 9900 if we were trading it in to a dealer. We put it up and 9,200 and hoped.

Yesterday a colleague of Marc's told us he had found someone in Belgium willing to take it for 5500. Ouch. We agreed seeing as we're leaving in a couple of days (give or take our visits back in between Sweden and Greece and home).

Then last night we get this call from this English guy who wants to buy the car. Really wants to buy it, can he just take it by his mate's garage (his term, the mate that is) and he can only pay us so much now (6500) and more (1200)next month. Total 7700 - not so bad!

So he is supposed to come by at 3pm to get the car to take to his mate. Long story short, he finally shows up at 6 pm. I am having doubts at this point on if we will see our car again so I send Marc with him.

Yeah, that's right, I think the guy might be a criminal stealing our car so I send my husband with him. Brain not fully functional.

He was probably no more than 2 minutes away when I called and said "If it seems weird get out of there - run as fast as you can, you are so much more important than a car".

And proceeded to feel like I was going to be sick until he walked back in 1/2 hour later. Car sold. Guy fine, just a little weird.

And this is why I am drinking wine from a bottle. I am now going to go and use a huge amount of Fruits et Passion bubble bath for my last bath in this house (it's such a waste not to try and finish it) and then I will try to sleep.

By this time tomorrow the car should be sold and we should be in the lovely hotel by the park I have always wanted to stay at... fingers crossed ;-)

And my two angels are sleeping (please oh please let them be asleep) at opposite ends of Stu's mattress in Julia's room. I would check on them, but they're being quiet and I wouldn't want that to stop...

I don't think the same way

as my movers do.

And there's a language issue that I wasn't expecting because the main gy is from Cap Vert (really nice guy btw) and has only been here 6 months and barely speaks French. And I don't speak Portuguese (I think that's what they speak in Cap Vert? I may be showing my ignorance)

We have two days of packing.

Day one - we pack all my dishes. ALL MY DISHES. And my couches and chairs and tables and ALL the kids toys and all our clothes (except some of Marc and mine).


Yet they have not touched anything in the attic or the basement (stuff we don't use daily) and I still have every single picture and mirror on the walls.

As Marc put it "So when we order in Pizza we can distract ourselves from the fact that it's burning our hands (because no dishes) by looking at our artwork?"

And everything is labeled in what looks like a combination of Portuguese/French. Should be a lot of fun for the English unpackers in Ottawa. I went around relabeling things at midnight because they decided that my tv room (adjacent to the kitchen) was really the kitchen so the TV room couch is labeled kitchen. Yup.

Sorry, needed to kvetch a bit. I think they are taking my computer away any moment now and I am not sure why because they still need to do an inventory of our cave a vin (doesn't that sound posh?? it's really just shelves in the cold part of our basement - but thanks to recent gifts there are about 80 bottles of wine - nothing to a European btw).

And of course yesterday was beautiful and sunny and today is POURING and Julia's playhouse is out there getting SOAKED but they just said I would have to clean it off. Not to mention our teak patio furniture that is out there getting soaked - if they had wrapped and put it downstairs yesterday we wouldn't have it arriving in a possible mouldy state in Canada. I am wondering of we should just ditch it...

And now I am just rambling and rambling because they haven't taken the computer away yet, but I am sure you all have better things to do so I will go and be miserable in my corner of the main bathroom that I am hiding out in.

Actually I have to go and pick up pictures from Marc's office that he forgot to bring home and switch cars because someone might finally be buying our car and needs to test drive it this aft.

On Saturday we leave for Sweden!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!

Our suitcases for Greece are on their way to Andy & Liz's where we will stay for the two nights between!! YEAH!

My mum and step-dad are picking us up when we arrive in Montreal and taking me to Cote St-Luc BBQ (BEST BBQ chicken, yum yum) the day we arrive and driving us to Ottawa the next day - YEAH!

My in-laws arrive the Sunday to help with the kids and unpacking for 3 days after that - YEAH!!

Trying to focus on the positive... can I focus today? Not sure today.

OH NO! Marc forgot Nemo the goldfish this morning to take to a friend's aquarium!! I had better go and take him NOW!!!!

We're being stalked...

by the people who bought our house. After I said NO they couldn't come if they wanted to guarantee that we would be out Friday (and that she wouldn't have one flat side to her head - no, I didn't really say that part) we got a phone call on my mobile that had unfortunately run out of battery from them. Too bad I don't have voicemail (not really).

Then this afternoon as I was rushing out with recycling (okay, and to buy one thing I forgot at the Villeroy & Boch factory outlet) I see her. With her parents. Walking up and down the road in front of our house. Creepy.

I quickly called Marc and told him not to answer the doorbell if it rang. So he turned up his iPod real loud.

Lovely dinner at Puccinella's tonight. We're going to miss Carpaccio...

And in other news

I just got a text message from the guy who bought our house.

The guy who will be getting the keys Friday afternoon - like as in 4 days from now.

We have let them come in the house 5 times now since they made the offer. For a total of close to 8 hours. I even babysat their child (sick I find out after)for over an hour once while they took measurements.

Her father (who is a contractor and lives near Brussels) spent almost 2 hours here one day.

The text message reads (in French - so probably prettier than I am going to translate it for you)

"HI Tracy - I hope all is well. Aurelie's parents are going to be in Luxembourg tomorrow and we would like to come by to get an idea of the work to be done. Could you spare us 20 minutes?"

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!

Because the last time they were here I had an Ally McBeal moment. She was knocking on the walls (again) trying to figure out(again) how much could come down (I think she should go live out in nature where there are no walls since she obviously has such a problem with them).

She turns to me and says "Do you know?" (again. She's asked me this every time she's been in the house)

And I got up and said, "Not sure. Let's knock on the wall and see." and used HER HEAD to find out where is sounded hollow.

No not really, that was my Ally McBeal moment. What I actually said was "no, sorry, no idea."

But if she comes in here tomorrow, in the middle of our move chaos and asks me, I WILL USE HER HEAD.

Best they don't come - wouldn't you agree?

I am taking 10 minutes off

and having a latte (decaf with soy milk - does that count?) to try and ensure my head doesn't explode today.

I think that maybe I should just give up sleep completely until the move is done. Take yesterday. I had to get up at 4:30 am to drive my mum and the cat to Brussels (215 km there and then 215 back for those of you not used to the drive). At 3:18 I was still awake with my persistent "Canadian" cough wondering how I would cope with the drive. Then I must have passed out because at 4:42 my mum woke me up and off we went.

The cat is now safely in Montreal in my mother's bathroom awaiting her next move to the kitty spa on Thursday. She dutifully protested the entire drive to Brussels "a haute voix", but it was okay, I couldn't really hear her since it was pouring rain. POURING. She then proceeded to bite me as I tried to put the tranquilizers down her throat so she could have a nice zen flight home, but luckily a nice Belgian woman ahead of us in line said she could get them down her if I held the cat and sure enough - down they went and I swear the rotten little thing smiled at the woman to thank her. It's like my kids - they're so good for other people.

Drove home with some LOUD music, picked up a few groceries and spent the rest of the day getting what seemed to be huge amounts of things done (though looking at the house today I am not so sure) Got some stuff out, recycling organized, clothes washed - all this on 90 minutes sleep.

Of course, I got 1/2 way through my evening Kir Royal (I usually drink SO little this is a weird thing for me, but I hate to throw away the bottle of creme de Framboise, may have to leave it with Jitka) and had to be put to bed at 8:30. Where I apparently slept like a starfish and snored (I have sinus problems - not my fault!)and when Julia woke up screeching at 4 am was surprised to find Marc was sleeping in the guest room.

So - this morning, after a good 10.5 hours sleep I have been trying to get stuff done. Blood test, electrical thingamabobs for the lights we're selling, tried another used car dealer for the car that won't sell - and I feel a MESS.

So warning - the rest of this post might get messy because I feel pretty messy right now.

Stu set me off - he cried when I left him at daycare (I can't pack with him home, he wants to play attactiks all day). I feel so bad for him - I know this move is tearing him up and that he wants to stay in Luxembourg, but we can't. And I am spending so much time talking to him and understanding and loving him that I am scared we won't make it out of here. So I end up getting teary-eyed at the door of the daycare (nice! - can we blame that on low blood sugar since I couldn't eat before the blood test?). Bad start. A friend (who works at the blood clinic - so someone else to say goodbye to, something I am not getting better at) is dropping off a book about moving this aft which will hopefully help.

It's not just the impact of putting all our stuff in boxes and moving home to Canada. It's that we are LEAVING Luxembourg - a place that I love and dislike all at the same time. A place that has become home. I've been here going on 8 years. My kids were born here. I don't know how to say goodbye, and of course, me being of the BIG EMOTION variety of girl I am just not talking about it much and pretending that I am happy with this and that it's all just organizational stress etc.

Except to Marc who gets me in tears on the phone regularly with the question "Are we SURE we are doing the right thing?" He has the patience of a SAINT. He's given up an amazing job to go home with me. How he stays married to me is beyond me sometimes.

So let me say for the record that there are a million reasons I am glad to go home. And it seemed (at the time) like such a smart and obvious thing to do. So logical (I like logical). But now that it's almost time to go I feel like I can't go and... and... and... I think I have to stop writing or that little tiny grip on keeping it together is going to let go.

And I don't have time for that right now because I have movers coming in less than 48 hours and there is some kind of bomb that has gone in my house.

To work woman!!

No time

I am writing to say that I have no time to blog. I have SO much to blog about at the moment (hopefully most of it will remain in my mind - there's some interesting stuff) but I HAVE NO TIME, dang it.

Today I participated in a multi-family garage sale (Made almost EUR100! Woohoo!) then spent the afternoon going through stuff to take to the mega recycling centre and going to the recycling centre (btw - you can seriously get picked up there if you go alone with big heavy stuff... scary)

Tomorrow morning I am driving my mother to Brussels at 5 am with the cat (my poor mother) and then I have two days to finish making some sense of our belongings for the movers who arrive Wednesday (and hopefully not go over our "allowed" amount!)

And pack for two separate vacations - Sweden and Greece (am now regretting getting rid of some of Stu's 34 pairs of undies for those of you who know about that) - the logistics of clothes for 3+ weeks is a little overwhelming (Marc's doing his own - good man!)

Oh - and there's this little thing in Ottawa called our HOME RENO that we are trying to get settled. I won't even touch that one at the moment or my head MAY actually explode.

Please don't tell me I sound stressed... I am way past stressed, can't remember what it was like and am now just running on Warp 9.7 and the reactor core is going to explode (or whatever it is that happens on Star Trek the Next Generation).

Really though I'm ok. I promise. I am starting to think I am am adrenaline junkie.

Either that or it must be the Kir Royal I have every night before dinner (it's all Jitka's fault ;-P )

Probably talk to you in September!!

and please

feel free to comment. It makes my whole day. Well, that and my new love of Gu Chocolate mini-puds.

But I like comments. Makes me feel like someone reads me... (or should I worry about the plans to lock me away?)

But I do have one thing to complain about...

Please tell me if this is normal or not...

The people who are buying our house are driving me CRAZY.

They came for the first visit and were here 45 minutes. No biggie. I helped hold their 14 month old so they could look around - that's just the way I am.

They called and asked to come back the next night with an architect - again, we said yes. Marc and I took turns playing with their child while they spent 90 minutes (at dinner time, the only time the architect is free) going through the house.

Then they ask to come back with her dad and her uncle who are contractors. They will be here at 10 am. They show up at 5 to 11 (without their child luckily). I explain that I have to leave at 11:30 to get Stu at school. Apologies, they will be gone by then. I leave to get Stu at 11:30 and they are still here. I come back and try and entertain my children (instead of making them lunch because they are in the kitchen STILL) until 12:30. In the meantime they have knocked on every wall, looked behind every door, gone in every room, pulled out closets... all this before they have their mortgage confirmation. I am not sure they didn't check the contents of our drawers (though she's made it obvious now that we've signed the offer that the house decoration is substandard)

I say no more visits. But of course I only say it to myself (stupid me).

The next week they want to come with a flooring specialist (by the way they pleaded Poor to get the price down and we now find out they are dropping a ton of money into it, but that's just our stupidity, please don't tell me I am naive, I am well aware). It should take 15 minutes, 20 max. The flooring guy shows up before them and I end up showing him around for 10 minutes (he drove 120km and was on time, they drove 12km and were late). Sure enough he's gone after 15 minutes... and then they ask "Would you mind if we take some measurements for 5 minutes?" (what the #(*$&%^ were you doing last week for an hour and a half???)

So I say fine. But this time they have the kid with them. He's about to do a header down the stairs so Julia and I start to play with him (as they are ignoring him and measuring things like the distance between the windows in the TV room - it's about 15 cm - what are they thinking of putting there). Anyhow, as I am running on here let's cut to the chase - after AN HOUR of me playing with their kid I say I have to go out and run errands and get Stu. And they thank me for looking after their son because - GET THIS - HE HAS A FEVER AND COULDN"T GO TO DAYCARE SO THEY HAD TO BRING HIM WITH THEM.

Might have been nice to tell me that before he gave my daughter his GERMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I mention that the notary has not received the required docs from them they brush me off. When I ask about the bank approval I am dismissed (at this point they still have not been approved, but are traipsing though my house)

Last week they emailed wanting the plans for the house (what for? You've measured every single wall) and if we didn't have them (the house is 55 years old) they need the contact information of the people who owned it before us as they must surely have them. Excuse me???

I write back a few days later apologizing for the late reply but that my daughter had surgery (adenoids) at very short notice and we were busy, and I said we don't have them and did ask the previous owner (no need to give them her name!) and she didn't have them (I left out that she laughed).

At this point I think - okay, we just need to get through the signing. All we need to do is get through the signing and these people will go away. Or rather we will, to a different continent.

Tuesday (yesterday)- get a call. Can they come by with a contractor Thursday morning. I admit it - I lied and said I had to drive to Brussels to get my mother (that was actually today that I had to do that). When can they come then. I say - politely - that I am on my way to the follow-up for my daughter's surgery and that I don't have my calendar on hand but that I have to check because we are very booked up with appointments before we move and I will have to send an email.

This evening I get this email from the wife (I have been dealing mostly with the husband):

"Hi Tracy and Marc!

We don't want to appear to pushy, but would you mind telling us when we could see the house once again with the entrepreneurs? It shouldn't last more than 30 min. If we do it to late, we would need to postpone our entrance in the house :-(

Thanks in advance!"

I can't even write her back because I will use words that are not to be used in polite company (most of them beginning with the letter F) I can't get over her gall - I am planning an overseas move, having surgery for my child, not to mention my own reno in Canada. And they have no plans to move into this house until November! Yet if I don't get back to her in less than 24 hours (when they took weeks to get the docs to the notary!) she follows-up...?

I don't know - is this normal? When we bought the house we had two companies come in at the same time for 15 minutes each to give us quotes on work to be done. I felt so bad disturbing the previous owners and thanked them profusely.

RUDE. These people are RUDE. And I am going to be RUDE back and not answer. So there. Nahnahnahnah (not very grown up, I know.)

I want to go home. I want to go now.

The post I should have written yesterday

So - if you read the post I wrote yesterday, the one where I was having a whine, please try and forget it because it was just me being neurotic about this whole move thing and I am going to remove it as soon as I finish typing this one.

We had a a GREAT weekend. GREAT! There haven't been a whole lot of times in the last few months when I have been able to write that, but it was a great weekend (do you think maybe it was great? Can I use the word Great again?)

Saturday morning Marc had some buddies come by and they took away a LOT of stuff to the recycling centre - look!! I have an attic again!! WOW! And a Basement! And the best thing is - they took it all for us - Marc helped load, but there was no "Oh but this is from...". It's just GONE and someone else is benefitting from it. We owe them a HUGE thanks, which I think was paid mostly in beer (go figure, first hot, non-rainy day in 6 weeks). But still THANK YOU!

Then, as this was wrapping up and we were odering pizza my friend Catherine and her husband and kids showed up from Germany to stay overnight. We had a great afternoon walking through town, FINALLY got me into the casemates (let's not discuss the wrong turns where there were no lights... near closing time...) and came home to barbecue. (But not until after I snagged a pink Longchamp leather belt in the last day of the sales 2 minutes before the store closed - but that's my personal great ;-p)

One of the best things was how Stu took to her boys who are 11 and 9. They got on like a house on fire and were so good at playing with him (let's face it, Mum sucks at playing Attacticks). They are such lovely polite boys that Julia was going around saying "They are such nice boys Mummy!"

Of course that was when she wasn't pouting and saying "They only do boy things!" - someone felt a little left out, though I think it was made up to her when Cath took her upstairs to read her stories, look at her magic wand and let her put on her princess dress.

Just when Stu thought his day could NOT get any better his dad announced that they could watch STAR WARS (this is a new thing for him) and between me and Cath talking inside and Marc and Neil talking outside - well they saw the whole thing and it was MIDNIGHT (WOW for a 5 year old, oh lord for a 37 year old) and then all the boys SLEPT IN STU'S ROOM. SO COOL (it was like he was talking in caps locks all weekend - the hero worship was just wonderful to watch)

Sunday we headed to the Castle at Vianden which is one of my favorites and that I hadn't thought I'd get to again before leaving Lux. It was a beautiful day and we had great company. It was hard to part ways.

I only regret that Catherine & Co only arrived a few months ago and this was the first time we managed to hang out - and now we are leaving. So we'll have to plan some European vacations in their neck of the woods (or somewhere else?? Needs a planning session ;-p)

Proof

Sometimes when you make a decision as big as the one we've made to move back to Canada, you are plagued with doubts (okay, even for some of the not so big decisions, but hey, it's me).

It's hard to leave somewhere we've been this long, and I've been worrying a lot about whether or not it's the right thing for the kids. We talk about moving home and yet this is the only home they've ever known.

And I am sure if you could open Stuart's chest you would see a little Luxembourgish flag on his heart, not a Canadian one. He's devastated by the move.

I will spare you the questions I've asked myself (and my poor saint of a husband - no sarcasm).

Last week our babysitter, a very mature young woman at 17, said "well they'll be Canadians and have a sense of belonging." She knows this from first hand experience, having moved to Brunei at the age of 8, living there for 8 years and moving to Luxembourg 2 years ago. She says she and her brother might have British passports but they don't really feel like they are from anywhere.

Hmmmm. This is definitely something in favour of a move.

Then the other night we were out (OUT!! US!!) at an engagement party for a good friend. Most of the people were English or Irish and everyone was speaking English. One of the fiance's colleagues was French and when we headed to a pub after dinner I spoke French to him. After he crawled back on to his seat ("Quoi? On parle Francais tout d'un coup?") I asked him a bit about himself.

He is, he tells me, "Franco-Allemand" (French-German). But it turns out he was born in Luxembourg. But he does not speak a word of Luxembourgish (though speaking French and German it is pretty much impossible not to speak some Burgish. It would hardly be like learning Chinese). And he has no intention of learning Luxembourgish.

It is, he says, NOT a language. It is a "dialect"... you hear the disdain dripping from his voice.

I will not berate this poor young man more than need be - though I would love to point out that he is entering competitions in France to become a civil servant and can't get in... whereas if he took a few months to learn Luxembourgish he would surely be able to land one here - in the country he has spent his entire life, with the exception of university - residing in.

I am not denying my own love-hate relationship with this country. But I can't get over the gall of someone growing up here and coming back to work here yet being so disdainful of his country of residence that he won't even acknowledge the official language of the country.

I don't want to judge (though I realize I am). But it just made me think that I want more for my kids than this. Being more Canadian than Luxembourgish, more Luxembourgish than Canadian - and somewhere in the middle not really fitting anywhere. I have seen it too many times here.

This afternoon in the car we taught the kids the words to Oh Canada. In English. In French. And of course the most famous version of all - the Hockey version, part French, part English.

Putting Stu to bed tonight he wanted to practice more. He's got a good little memory for song lyrics (we're still singing "Mama keukemol...den himmel as roodt" a song about Kleeschien - St Nick - in JULY!).

"Do you want to practice the French or English version?" I ask.

"Mo-oo-om!" (you know the "come on woman are you kidding me?" Mom) "NO! the HOCKEY version!!"

That's my boy! We'll turn him into a Canuck yet!

Insult to Injury

I think just about everyone knows that I have been off work for the last 5 1/2 months. Due to recurring sinus infections and a hideous cough that keeps me up at night and gasping for air most days.

About 6 weeks ago my GP sent me to a Lung Specialist. I didn't think there was anything wrong with my lungs (x-rays had shown that) and that my cough was due to sinus problems (I've also been to an Ear Nose and Throat specialist because I have problems in that area).

So I go and the Lung Specialist says I have very badly inflamed bronchial tubes. Bordering on asthma, but he thinks we've caught it in time. Take this inhaler, come back in a month.

I feel a bit better, until my allergies kick in and keep taking the medication, and go back after a month figuring he will say great, you're all better.

Not so much. After a month he's worried about my LO count (??) and is convinced I have allergic asthma and I need to do a histamine test in two weeks. Huh?

So this morning I go for the histamine test (not as bad as I thought). I don't have asthma the technician tells me - wow!

Next visit with the doctor. He confirms I don't have asthma. Yeah! But then... belittles me for thinking I did (I guess I was wasting his time? I never thought I had asthma?) and tells me that my cough is undoubtedly because I am HOMESICK (huh??? I didn't know that people get INFLAMED BRONCHIAL TUBES from being HOMESICK??) and when I said I have lived here almost 8 years he then said it's just nerves (??) and that there really isn't anything wrong with me, refused to give me a report of his findings for the caisse de maladie and then said - and I am NOT making this up:

"ALL CANADIANS COUGH IN LUXEMBOURG"

Mir wolle bleiwe wat mir sin - long live Luxembourg!

I've been to hell on Earth - it's in Belgium

Over a year ago Marc and I took the kids to an indoor playarea in Belgium called Atomic Kids. You know the kind of thing where they have ball pits, huge slides, lots and lots of padded wall type things.

Almost every weekend since Stuart had asked to go to Atomic Kids (usually on a Sunday afternoon when they are closed).

Given the crappy weather this morning I said "Sure, let's go!"

We arrived and were accosted by NOISE. Oh well, it's a kids place, it's bound to be loud. The guy explains that there's a price for 1 hour, 90 minutes and unlimited and that you pay at the end. I say "Oh I think that 90 minutes will suffice." and he says "Wait and see - you may find that an hour is more than enough."

I though he was being ridiculous, but man, was he RIGHT.

Shoes off, Stuart hesitates and wants to play all the video game type things right at the front door. Times like this he is definitely my child, loud noise and rambunctious kids screaming are not my thing.

We make it over to the climbing structures and hang out for a few minutes in the ball pit. Then we head into the area where they have huge balls you can crawl around on. Yeah, this is fun I think (there's no 6 year olds SCREECHING in my ears) and show the kids how to roll around on top of the ball on their stomachs.

BAM! And there I go right off the ball onto the concrete floor covered in about 5 cm of foam - and land right SMACK on my tailbone (same tailbone that has never fully recovered from my first delivery). As I writhe in pain on the floor one of my children rolls another of the balls onto me face.

I am not having so much fun. And I have about 13 seconds to move before I am trampled to death.

An hour is starting to sound like an eternity. We climb up and down, up and down, slide, crawl, bounce, swing... Julia is just that bit too small that she needs help getting up most things, and I am just that bit too big that I have to do my best imitation of a contortionist to get up or down.

The noise level is unreal. And while there are a few parents around having a look, most of the kids are running savage through the place - I find in these situations that I am always surprised at how RUDE kids are. I know Stuart is a little on the timid side, but Julia was terrified too. It's a miracle there haven't been any casualties at the place the way the little beasts knock each other over and shove their way through.

So - kudos to me, I made it through the hour trying to keep both kids in sight and then when Julia had dissapeared for the 3rd time to the top of the structures and screeched to be brought down, I laid down the law and insisted we left.

I think the kids are enjoying the fact that Mum can't turn her head left or right so she can't shake it to say NO...

But you see... it's a different COUNTRY

Marc left this morning for 4 days of golf. Today on a course that (if I am not mistaken) some holes in France, some in Luxembourg and some in Germany.

From there he will head to Baden-Baden Germany for the "Canada Cup" with the boys - I feel bad for them that there is rain in the forecast.

And I am not thrilled about said rain for me and the kids either - weekends can be pretty long when it pours all day and as tomorrow is the National Holiday we are talking about 2 days when everything is CLOSED.

Which might not be such an issue if the festivities for said holiday were not going to be waterlogged.

So, I hit weather underground to see where we could go for the day tomorrow... Brugges? Raining. Nancy FR? Raining. Maastricht? Raining. Cologne? RAINING.

Then I realized - subconsciously I somehow hope that places will have different weather because I am crossing a the border. Yeah, not so logical.

The week in review

A lot happened in the last week and I have a feeling there's more like it on the way...

Tuesday - brought two house showings... one a potential offer. And a counter-offer from the below our asking price - a counter-offer that was still too low.

Wednesday - had us in a pseudo bidding war with the second couple saying they were going to make an offer of a certain amount (20K more than the other offer) but that they couldn't officially do it until they heard back from their contractor - so how did we hold off signing with the other couple without losing the sale??
In the end it was a moot point - we spent 4 hours in the emergency room with Julia because her high fever was back and she was crying, lethargic and generally not well at all and we were worried (and she had red spots - she tends towards red spots). They thought she had a Urinary Tract Infection and that she would have to stay in the hospital on antibiotics through an IV and that she would be there until 48 hours after her fever broke...!!!! In the end, 3 urine samples and a blood test later, they let us take her home on the condition that we returned the next morning for another urine sample and blood test.

Thursday - hospital with Julia, and she was okay, they decided it was viral. Marc and Stuart both sick, took Stuart to the doctor (virus). Found out that the other offer (20K more) was a no-go - we think the guy was trying to force us into waiting and possibly losing the first offer so we'd take less. Took first offer and signed a "compromis" to sell our house.

Friday - Stuart up for 2 hours at 3 am complaining of stomach pain. Do we go to Paris? Yes? No? Somebody decide? Tracy at lung specialist first thing. Not a good report from one of the tests, she now has to go for a histamine test where they will pump her full of histamines and see if it provokes an asthma attack. Doesn't that sound like fun? Appointment took a hideous amount of time, we rushed to train station and made train to Paris with 4 minutes to spare, all in foul humour. Arrive in Paris in middle of torrential downpour and foolishly struggle to get to hotel by Metro (I know, we're idiots, but I grew up in Montreal where they have these neat things called ESCALATORS in the metro!)Spend the evening at the base of Sacre-Coeur church in Montmartre watching the kids ride the carousel and ducking into a cafe for ice cream when the skies opened up again.

Saturday - everyone much better it appears - except Tracy who is on major allergy suffering (it only took 6 hours to figure out it was actually a cold!). Through occasional rain showers visit the Eifel Tower (line up was 2 hours long so we didn't go up) and took a Bateau Mouche along the Seine, did a little shopping at Printemps and Galleries Lafayette before heading back (another downpour) to the hotel and dinner at the adorable little restaurant next to it where they served Marc his Terrine Maison by bringing a ginormous terrine and letting him cut off what he wanted. Things we will miss.

Sunday - Headed off to the Champs Elysees for Marc to make his meeting with some people over from Canada (the reason we were in Paris in such poor health). The sun was out, so the kids and I headed up the Champs Elysees for a look at L'Arc de Triomphe - Stu was pretty impressed, there is a smaller one in Nancy that he had been through a couple of weeks before. Cafe au lait on the Champs Elysees... who could resist? Met up with Marc, walked some more, had lunch in a little resto just off the CE and played in a playground as we headed back towards the Louvre. Julia passed out and was carried through the Tuilleries and the rain started again so we headed back to our hotel to catch a cab to the train station. Upon asking the boy (Stuart kept saying he looked like Prince Charming in Shrek 2 - the hair!!) to call us a cab were told :

"Well it's raining. That's a problem. You can't get a cab in the rain."

?????

"it's raining and we don't call a specific cab, we call a taxi rank and they won't get out of the car to answer the phone when it is raining so you can't get a taxi."

Welcome to FRANCE!

In the end I pushed enough that he called (only to prove to me that he was right and that we would get no cab, damn North American that I am) and guess what? GOT US A CAB.

Home again home again, thank goodness we're back!

Monday - No school in the afternoon. Two cranky hot kids. Wicked allergy attacked for Tracy and asthma kicked in. This is why we are leaving this country. have to remember that when I have doubts.

And that is all that happened. I think. Now I can't remember ;-)

Redemption

On the drive back from picking up the cat:

"It's okay Denby, you're going to be home soon."

"You're okay Dens, I love you."

"It's okay Denby, don't be scared I am here."

All the way home various variations on a theme.

Makes you think that all those middle of the night hugs for bad dreams and back rubbing when they are throwing up and kisses for booboos really do mean something to them.

Okay, maybe no eBay today.

Newsletter from the House of Ill Health

Thank you for checking in on your favorite sick family the Booger-Snots.

Last week brought gastroenteritis into our home - starting with Julia, who had a mild case. By Wednesday Marc had a full blown case and stayed home from work for two days without any prodding from his nagging wife. Friday Stuart started - but also a mild case and seemed to be pretty much back on his feet (or at least he was on his feet and running roughshod through the house playing) by Saturday afternoon.

Ah, but fall not into the trap of thinking we were done - do not make my mistake.

Stuart had a birthday party to attend yesterday afternoon. A birthday party that he spent glued to my leg and cranky. Marc and Julia came to get us and she was cranky and screaming.

By 8 pm Stuart had a fever of 39.6 degrees. By 10:30 Julia was up at 40.0 degrees. They are still feverish this morning and staying home.

And if you thought that by any chance we were getting any sleep in there - NO! My allergies are worse than ever and I was up most of the night sneezing or honking the horn that used to be my nose. Just started to drift off at 5:30 when Stu got up.

There needs to be some law of nature that ensures sick kids act sick - that they are subdued, sleep a lot, willing drink lots of liquids and in general are QUIETER THAN NORMAL. My two are up there battling as I type.

10 hours till bed - two visits with moving companies to get estimates, one viewing of the house, on our way in a few minutes to pick up the cat at the vet... gotta love a challenge!

P.S. - anyone want advance notification if I list them on eBay?

The fine nuances of international relations

Friday night, 9:15 pm.

Our doorbell rings.

I answer it to find three people I have never seen before on my doorstep - a middle-aged gentleman, a lady and a girl. He starts to mention our house and Eric O (a friend of Marc's at work).

Luckily Marc had mentioned to me (in passing) that there was a new Turk at work that was looking for a place to live, but that he was fully booked with appointments for the weekend and would call Marc on Monday if he hadn't bought somewhere.

2+2 = this must be the guy.

I am gracious - I invite them in. They resist - standing out in the rain. I say, no please, of course you must come in. The resist again.

I am not clear on why they have rung our doorbell at 9:15 if they don't want to come in. I ask a last time and yes, they come in.

We sit in the living room. I offer drinks - he declines, she accepts. The child looks confused. I foolishly offer apple juice thinking I have lots in the fridge. I don't, I fill the 2 glasses best I can and take them out to the living room. He looks expectantly and I say "Would you like something?" and he says "yes, the same". So I hunt in the basement and find some juice boxes I cut open and pour into a glass.

We make small talk for about 30 minutes - difficult small talk as his grasp on English is somewhat tenuous and she relies on him to speak for her for the most part. I am not faulting them - I don't know a single word in Turkish I realize and lamely throw out that we were in Turkey last summer.

Worried that they will be offended that we did not go on a single excursion and spent the entire week at the resort - I say something really bright like "Unfortunately we were there the week they were bombing and so we stayed at the resort."

Open mouth insert foot and half my leg. Because discussing the fragile politics of Turkey entering the EU (the bombs were aimed at tourists by a group against entrance into the EU) is FAR better than saying we were more into chilling on the beach. Good one Trace!

In an effort to recuperate we switch quickly to safe topics... schools, Luxembourg and the mens' common employer.

I am still not clear on why they are in my house. But I try to be charming and hospitable because they have only been in the country for three weeks. This is what we do here - offer advice on what grocery store has what, what activities are of interest, discuss the local English weekly newspaper... remember how difficult our adjustment period was and offer what we can.

After a somewhat strained half hour, and as they ask a few questions about the house, I ask if they are interested in seeing it - but stating very clearly that my children are asleep in bed (this had been mentioned before). They jump up, eager to take a look so I think "Okay, so they are interested in the house."

We do the tour. We describe our house in detail, the renovations, the addition, the garden. They follow us upstairs and even go as far as to poke their heads into the rooms of our sleeping children (I mean it's the exact same room on both floors!). They visit our attic, and then all of the rooms in our basement.

At the end they ask the price. We tell them. Then they discuss prices for real estate in Luxembourg. From this conversation we glean that they are looking at apartments. We have a lovely house but they are not looking for a house.

?
??
???

They leave. I say (and mean, because she is a nice lady) that if there is anything I can do to let me know. She invites me for coffee one day.

And Marc and I look at each other and both say "What the??" at the same time.

We don't mind that they stopped by unannounced. Or that they weren't looking for a house, but rather an apartment. We don't mind the time we spent talking to them as there were some interesting points.

What we find strange is that they poked around our house, in our SLEEPING childrens' rooms when they had no intention of buying the house at all.

No?

5 year-old logic

In the car this afternoon:

Stu : "That's where Daddy's car is from" (the dealership)

Me: "Yes Stu, and you were just a tiny little baby when we went to pick it up."

Julia: "Where was ME?"

Stu : "You were still in Heaven Jools!"

Marc and I laugh and agree it's a good theory when he continues:

"God wasn't finished making you!"

Customer Service - Luxembourg Style

We need to get the garden tidied. Between my allergies (debilitating) and Marc's busy schedule and the million and one other jobs we have for him, we figured we'd get a company in.

Marc looked up the company (the one who came when we moved in) on the on-line directory for Luxembourg. It's one of the bigger gardening companies in Luxembourg. I dialed the number.

I will translate the conversation for you.

"Mhmph-humumum" Says the voice that answers the phone.

"Yes, hello, is this XYZ gardening?" I ask.

Affirmative GRUNT on the other end.

"I'd like to get an estimate to have our garden tidied" I say.

"Sigh... You need my secretary for that." is the reply (my psychic powers should have guessed this?). Then a grudging "I'll transfer you."

He comes back a minute later. "She's busy." He announces.

I wait a moment. He says nothing further. "Should I call back?" I ask.

"Yes." (undertone "DUH!")

O-kay. "And when would she be free?" I ask, barely containing my sarcasm.

"Oh, you can try again in 10 minutes. But don't call this number."

???

When no explanation is provided I said "This is the number listed on pt.lu...?"

"I know, but you shouldn't use it. Call xx xx xx xx." he barks down the line.

Why do I feel like an eight-year old making crank calls?

Okee-dokee. "Goodbye." I say.

"Grunt" he says and hangs up.

Happy shiny people live in this country.

Pronunciation...

Julia is finally starting to pronounce her words more clearly - phew, we were getting worried that no one would ever grasp her English-Luxembourgish-French dialect (including us!)

One hold out though were her "L" sounds... they just weren't coming out clearly.

We have just learned that she can pronounce an L though.

She's in her bed sobbing and crying out in a most pathetic manner:

"I don't want to be ALLLLOOOONNE!"

Very clear on the L.

The final straw

We have had construction in front of our house for the past 3+ months.

I've tried hard not to complain.

About the CONSTANT noise.

About the huge hole that they will dig one day and then not touch for two weeks.

About the tools left haphazardly in front of my front door (safety standards in this country shock me on a regular basis).

About the screaming Portuguese workmen outside my house all day every day (or so it would appear).

About the vibrating walls.

About not being able to park in front of my house for 3+ months and having to schlep the kids and the groceries almost 400m every time we go out.

About fearing for my kids' lives everytime they open the front door, because there may be a huge hole, or something else waiting to swallow them whole if I am not quick enough.

About the bruise the size of a grapefruit on my leg from where I fell in a hole covered with a broken wooden palette (so you couldn't see it was there - however I saw afterwards that they had put up some red and white ribbon in the vicinity for the weekend - apparently we weren't supposed to walk there).

HOWEVER, the thing that is going to be the final straw, the reason that I go out there and scream and throw things is none of the above.

IT IS THE MAN WHO IS SINGING FADO AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS.

That is the straw too many.

A little bit of EFH

Stuart and I have a bedtime routine - after story and lights out, we lie in bed and talk about our favorite parts of the day. It's an important part of our day, one that we both look forward to.

So I was a little surprised the other night when Stu said "Mum... before I go to sleep can we do" (and here I expected him to say favorite parts of the day)"MATH?" he says with excitement.

This is a new thing with Stu - he's obviously going through a mental jump, learning to read and write and... do math. I love how exciting it all is to him.

A few weeks ago he asked for math flash cards when we were at the air force base. He loves them. He's forever throwing out questions like "Mum, what's a thousand thousands plus ten?" You can almost see the wheels turning in his head.

We've bought him some exercise books that have math and reading exercises and he's thrilled to do them - we've even bought him a desk for his room for him to do his "work" at. At his request - he needed a desk he told us.

As we lie in bed and he peppers me with thousand thousands plus 2 and I watch him figure out what 6 plus 3 is and I think "My dad would have loved this."

My dad thought you were never too young to enjoy math - and enjoy it he did. There wasn't much that couldn't be reduced to an equation to him. He would have been thrilled to see the interest in his grandson, would have delighted in the glee in Stu's voice when NUMBER JETS was on cbeebies last night.

So Dad, Stu's definitely got some of your genes...

It's a small world after all

Now that you have the theme song from a Dinseyworld ride in your head :-) let me tell you about something that happened to me yesterday.

Marc and I drove up to the NATO base in Geilenkirchen Germany where we have a P.O. Box. It's about 240km away. We do "the mail run" about 3 times a year thanks to the rota that we have with all the other Canadians.

The post office (until the 1st of May) is in a building that also houses other Canadian services - which we knew nothing about to be honest - in the 5 years we've been going up we've never ventured down that end of the hall.

Well yesterday we were chatting with the postie (a HABS fan by the way, we like to tease Marc) and I complimented him on his shirt - a red golf shirt with a "support our troops" logo. As we were about to leave the customer in line behind us told me that you could buy the shirts, baseball caps etc down the hall in the Canadian services area. So I figured what the heck and wandered down there.

There was a group of women sitting around a table and one got up to come and help me - we went through to another section, looked at the selection (I got a t-shirt, Marc a ball cap) and were in the process of paying when another woman walks in.

"I know you from somewhere" she says and walks over to me.

I am about to politely say "I think you've mistaken me for someone else" (I mean, we're not military, I know they bump into each other) when I take a good look at her face. And realize that I DO know her.

It took me about 10 seconds to place her (yes, small miracle for me) and as her name came back to me I said "Catherine... Catherine Q______!" just as she said "Tracy!"

I worked with this woman - 17 years ago in Montreal, for about 6 months. The last time I saw her was in the Lionel Groulx Metro station about 16 years ago, and I remember (now) her telling me she was getting married to someone in the Canadian Forces. She arrived at GK a month ago.

We chatted for a bit and have made plans to get together - them come here, us meet up next time we go up, meet halfway - still to be defined. I'm looking forward to it (and yes, for those of you wondering, she's a West Island girl like me :-) )

I just can't get over the chances of us actually meeting up - We go up 3 times a year and I have never walked down that hall before. It was the first time she'd gone to the coffee morning since she arrived. What are the chances??

And I am wondering something else... I can't remember things that happened last week, but I can place someone I haven't seen in 16 years in about 10 seconds... isn't short term memory loss a sign of old age?? Or was I just acessing "pre-baby" files :-)

House Proud

2 years ago - the same week I went back to work after my second maternity leave - Marc and I started to look at houses to buy.

We hadn't planned to buy a house in Luxembourg. We had no money put aside for it. I have heard horror stories of people looking for at least a full year, and usually longer, and then when you see something you like you have to move IMMEDIATELY - and don't mess around too much about the price because it'll be gone in about 5 minutes if it's decent.

We had just started looking. At a 3 appartment building that we thought we could renovate into a single family home - and it had two studios in the back for rental income. Sounds perfect... it was dismal. Then a 3 bedroom house - drove by, it looked cute - a little shabby but what's a bit of love right?

We didn't think we could afford to live in the area where we were renting. We were overcoming our dissapointment because we love the area.

Then, the morning of the evening when we were to see the 3 bedroom house, I was flipping through the little English weekly that comes out on Thursday and there was the add - a house in Merl (our neighbourhood) at a price we could swing (yes, more than we were looking at). Dropped everything, called the number, was told I was the 4th person to make an appointment that day and yes, we could come on Saturday. Got the address, drove by, called Marc excited, excited excited... He said make it TONIGHT, forget Saturday. I called and changed the appointment to that evening.

After visiting the three bedroom in a neighbourhood not quite as desirable, I was discouraged. It had a postage stamp garden (1/2 the lot had been sold to the neighbours) and had had NOTHING changed since it was built in the 50's, except for a dodgy kitchen that was not my taste. It needed a new heating system, to have the gaz (now illegal) water heaters replaced, windows changed, serious redecoration (like strip stucco off walls work). And the "possible 4th bedroom" was not mush more than a crawl space in the attic. Marc tried to put a good spin on it, but even if we bought the house, we didn't have the money (not to mention time or effort) to do all the work.

So we left, dropped our car at home (the house was only 500m from the house we were renting) and walked there in the crisp evening air. We could see the house from the corner - no garage, on a busy street... hmmm. Then we crossed the road and rang the bell. The door was opened and we were wisked into what seemed to be a perfect world. Tastefully decorated, nicely lit - with my much dreamed of family room off the kitchen (rare in European houses), a huge terrace off the bedroom (over the addition that was the family room).

That was two years ago yesterday.

We bought the house - made an offer of the full amount that night. They (the lovely couple who owned it) told us to sleep on it and promised not to sell it to anyone else. Thankfully they did as they were offered almost twice the asking price the next morning. That night we signed the "compromis" (basically an offer) and went about arranging the mortgage - all as if floating on air.

The reality of moving into the house 4 months later was not as... well not as floaty. The house - while in structurally good shape, needed more decorating work than we had first thought - we mad ethe classic error of buying based on their decor, which we couldn't (and wouldn't really want to) reproduce. There were surprises when the workers were trying to pull down wallpaper. We had a crooked contractor who tried to charge us 50% more in the final days before the move, and the work wasn't done. We ended up having to pick up the flooring ourselves and find someone at 5 pm on a Friday that could come on the Monday to install so we could move in on Tuesday (a miracle in itself, we knew that someone was looking out for us). And so on. And so forth.

One casualty of the budget/change in billing by the contractor, was the living room/dining room. The paper that was there had to stay. It's not bad paper - it's actually almost right, but not quite. And once empty we realized how much of the house was PEACH. Peach in the living room. Peach in the powder room. Peachy terracotta tiles on the floor (they're okay, but not so much with the peach on the walls) pale peach in the hallways, peach in our bedroom (luckily removed by the contractors), peach in our wardrobe/bathroom, peach in the guest room.

Fast forward to today. I am sad to say that most of the house is still... peach. I don't know if it is being home sick for the last 5 weeks that did me in, or what happened, but Marc came home the other day and I told him that I couldn't take it anymore, something had to give. The house - while fine, just doesn't feel like ours.

So yesterday - two years since we saw the house, we finally decided that we were going to forget about having the halls repapered so we could paint (here there is no drywall - you need to put up white paper and then paint. Ours has seen better days) and just PAINT something. So after months and months of perusing Farrow and Ball samples (none of which was just right, we're in a row house, not much light etc etc etc) we drove to a DIY store in Belgium and bought paint samples. And spent yesterday afternoon evening dabbing them here and there - it was so much fun!! We even got out of bed at 11:00 pm to see if one of the colours would cover the hideous peach paper in the powder room (we think it does!!!!)

And today, 2 years since we signed the compromis, Marc went and bought paint (a store open on Sundays - another miracle!).

This evening I am the proud owner of a beautifully red brown accent wall in my hallway called Havana... we both keep going to look at it. The kids even like it.

And there's another several litres of other colours to go... down with PEACH!

Maybe this can be home after all...

Why some species eat their young

I really do understand it at the moment.

Things are usually a little hairy towards the end of one of Marc's trips, but today has taken the proverbial cake (damn, I could use some cake!!) I am at the end of a rather long illness and while I think there is now a chance I won't die, I am feeling pretty weak and drained.

On this lovely day, I had to take the kids to Belgium to a doctor recommended by a colleague of Marc's. Seeing how sick the kids have been I am ready to try anything, including a 55km drive to a remote town in Belgium to see a doctor who does homeopathy (not allowed in Luxembourg, we're in a Catholic nation that still sees alternative medecine as black magic).

Good news is that we get there. How I am not sure, as I had Marc's GPS, but it kept telling me to go a different way every few feet. "Turn left in 800m". I drive 200m and it says "recalculating" as if I've missed the turn. Anyhow to wrap that up I went the way the signs said and found it. Phew.

Next the appointment. Stu suddenly doesn't speak any French. Hmmmm (she spoke no English) and had to have everything translated (take off your shirt. sit down, breathe - all things he has been doing for his pediatrician in french for 5 years). Then he proceeds to ricochet cars off her office walls and drive them into private parts of the office (remember, this is Belgium. it was just curtained off).

Things only got better when he announces in the middle of Julia's exam that he needs to go pee. NOW. NO, he can't wait. So I run with him to the bathroom. He is more interested in the decor than in emptying his bladder. Julia starts to scream because her mother has left her alone with some strange woman she doesn't know who is poking at her. Understandable.

Downhill from there. Julia won't give up the hollering. Reaches decibels I've never heard before. Doctor tells me they are crocodile tears and that's why she's not paying attention. I agree but say I want to hear what she's saying so I am trying to calm the child (who's performance was worthy of an Oscar). Get nowhere. Doctor raises her voice and tells Julia to stop or go in the corner (she was trying to shock her into silence). Result? Julia starts to scream "Me no like Doctor, me no like Doctor, me no like Doctor" at the absolute top of her lungs. I think I am now deaf in my right ear.

After being assured that she is sure that Luxembourgish pharmacies can order me what I need, I head to one of our local ones, more known to be sympathetic to alternative medecine. The woman was very friendly but it took us 1 HOUR to get out of there and EUR 150 and I still don't have everything I need.

At dinner my beautiful daughter picks up her glass of water and grins at me. "No Julia!" I say in a stern voice (wondering why I bother) as she nods uh-huh!! and pours the entire glass over the dining room table. I put her on the naughty step where she reaches new decibles yet again because - gasp - SHE'S WET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (and it seems to be MY fault??)

And apparently in all of this I have been neglectful of Stu because he has just gone and written with a pen on my bed sheets.

And now they are both up there refusing to go to bed. I am going to go growl at them. It won't work, but it will help me let off some steam!!!!!

ouch!

That beautiful daughter of mine... at the oh so charming age of two years 8 months just said the sweetest thing to me...

"you go a-WAY! Me no need you!"

As I tried to coax her off the cold floor tiles by the back door where she decided to take a nap.

When I didn't give up (seeing as she already has a nasty cough)

"Me NO need you! Me NO like you! Me no like you! ME - NO - LIKE - YOU!"

I thought this was only supposed to start in adolescense?

Ouch. Sniff...

Garcon manque?

The French translation of tom boy is "garcon manque" (sorry on the lack of proper accents, still don't know how to do them on the Mac).

I am starting to wonder about Stuart's influence on his sister... this morning she took off her pj's and undesrhirt, stretched out on the couch in the TV room and told me to go away - she was being Batgirl. It was 45 minutes before I was allowed to get her dressed and even then it was only because I got out a new shirt and told her it was a Batgirl shirt. She's told me about 6 times since then that she is wearing her Batgirl costume (it's got pink flowers, so it must be Batgirl's alter-ego outfit)

I think at this age I was expecting more Princess stuff... and I have to admit that she is thrilled with the fairy costume that my mum gave her for Christmas... oh wait. Duh. Just made the connection - my mum gave Stuart a BATMAN costume for Christmas that he wore for a week.

Well I think I'll still show Marc the ebay page with Batgirl action figures for sale... she was quite disgruntled this morning that Stuart's growing collection of Super Heroes didn't have a Batgirl...

A great start to the holidays??

Ah... the joys of children in daycare.

Saturday we had plans to go to bernkastel-Kues, a small German wine village about an hour away to see what we have heard is a beautiful Christmas market.

Unfortunately, just as we were about to get ready to go, Stu had the runs. Oh well, another time, these things happen. We stayed in all day, had lots of fun putting together some Lego that Stu got for his birthday and playing together.

By the end of the day, Stu was MUCH better. But Julia seemed to have a weird diaper rash... more molars coming in?

By late yesterday afternoon Joolsies, who hadn't wanted to eat all day and was a bit lethargic, had a lot more spots. LOTS more. We called the pediatric clinic - they said it was hard to say over the phone, but we could take her to the pediatrician in the morning (ie, we're a little busy).

By 7pm we were just not comfortable with her condition, and I took her to the clinic. 3.5 hours later we left the clinic - after we had seen the doctor, had a blood test, seen the head of neonatal (who just happened to be in) and were told it was viral - most likely (based on the spots on her palms, soles of her feet and inside her mouth) Hand/Foot/Mouth disease. No specific medication, just lots of rest and take her to our doctor if she still had spots after 48 hours.

Fingers crossed we didn't pick up anything else in the waiting room - seeing one little boy who insisted on playing near Julia went and threw up in the garbage can.

Poor Julia had a really rough night, up pretty much every 45 minutes (and she only went to bed at midnight). Not in great shape this morning. Stu woke up saying seeming fine, but the started sayinghe had a sore stomach, but otherwise seeming quite himself. Really... he seemed fine. We have this some mornings - especially if Julia has been sick. Marc took him to school and I tried to go back to bed, but Julia woke up at 9:00.

At 9:30 the phone rings... and it's Joffer Dani, Stu's teacher. Stuart has thrown up all over the desk at school. Ah - will be right there.... oh boy, who feels like a bad parent now??

So here we are, sitting on the couch watching Peppa Pig, hoping no one is going to throw up... or come out in more spots. Or catch any of this. And to add to the fun, they are doing construction in the house next door.... because we have a common wall it sounds like they are coming right through!

So, things can only look up right??

Hope you are all having a good time getting ready for the holidays!

He's 5!!

How on earth did that happen? Stuart turned 5 last Monday.

It's not like I can't do the math, it's just that 5 is such a big number - the first of those 5 increments that seem to define so much of our life. As in what's your five year plan. I think if someone had asked me that 5 years ago I would never have come up with some of the wonderful (and awful) moments over the past 5 years.

We had a party yesterday to celebrate - 10 kids including my two. Last year was the first year that we had kids that were school friends - ie not kids of my friends. This year was the first time their mums left them here alone - with the exception of two of my girlfriends (thank goodness for Gill! Got to love a guest that helps her child tidy up before leaving) So in theory there were 5 adults (Marc, myself, my mum, Gill and Anneli) to 10 kids, and based on the fact that I can handle two or three at a time it should have been fine... ?

Actually it wasn't bad - I think a lot of it comes down to cultural things. So many of these kids come different cultural backgrounds. The main language was French, but there were Luxembourgish kids, an Italian/Belgian child, Swedish/American, Scottish, Yugoslavian/Portuguese - and one little boy who's father is (I think) Spanish and his mother from Cap Verde (I think - and it would appear they are divorced as he was dropped off with his babysitter - wait that makes it 6 adults - as you can tell she was a lot of use since I forgot about her). This is one of the first times they are all going to a party without their parents, they (with the exception of one little boy) had NO clue what pass the parcel was (that went off better than I thought). We just all have different traditions and it was interesting to see how they intermixed. Or didn't :-)

Anyhow, Stu, despite suffering from a reaction to a booster shot on Thursday, had a great time and was sad to see everyone go. So to make the special day last a little longer, we all went out for Indian food (my kids love Indian food?) and it was a perfect ending to a wonderful (HECTIC) day!

over due update

I haven't felt much like writing lately - probably because we've been going about Warp 8 for the last few months. (Until the end of last week when I got to slow down and rather predictably got horribly sick... I am at home on doctor's orders not to talk...? something to do with my vocal chords being inflamed)

ANYHOW! What has been going on with us... Stuart started his new school - first real year of school called Spillschoul (literal translation Spill - to play, Schoul - school). After a not so auspicious start he has decided that it's probably ok. The first two weeks were a nightmare of hysterics every morning and being up every night but it seems to be getting better and he likes Joffer Dani (Joffer means young woman, but it's what they call all female teachers). I wasn't so sure for a few weeks -they have up a red and green board in the classroom for the kids who are behaving and those who aren't. Before you ask if Stu was on the red board, I had an issue with labelling them as "good" or "bad" so young. After a meet the teacher night where she spent an hour with the Lux parents and then an hour with the French speaking ones I felt much better... and by that time Stu was off the red :-)

Then today when I went to get him at the daycare (Julia was home sick with me) he didn't want to leave because it was someone's birthday and they were about to have cake... so he wanted to STAY. I had to go back for him. And the other day he wanted to go to Little Gym...Maybe things are changing!!!

Marc had a busy September travelling being in 3 countries in 2 weeks, but all went well and fingers crossed he won't have to travel much more before Christmas. He is currently acting as Programme Manager because his boss got promoted... a huge honor for him.

Julia is well... well she's sick, but other than that well... both kids have been going to Little Gym and Julia is a real little acrobat. This week we had to move her up to an older class (she is now in one for 30-36 months) because she was so much older than the other little ones in the group she was in (it was from 18-30 months, but most of them were around the 21 or 22 month mark). She's having a blast going... not always listening, but loves hanging and catching the bubbles at the end!! At nearly 2 1/2 she is getting rather head strong... she's like the little girl with the curl on her forehead - when she's good she's really really good but when she's bad - ooof!! Good set of lungs on the girl. We've tried instituting The Naughty Step (after watching an episode of the SuperNanny - Brit version) but... well you're not supposed to crazy glue them to it are you?

And a new (and slightly disturbing?) tendency - which is pretty funny.... she likes to take her clothes off. Waiting for Stu at Little Gym yesterday she took off her pants and refused to put them back on. Then today I went to the bathroom and when I came out she was stark naked!!! And quite pleased with herself!!

I am heading to Montreal for 6 days on Sunday - got a cheap end of season AirTransat ticket from Brussels. It's been nearly 2 years since we've been home and given all that's happened I felt the need to get home for a few days. Looking forward to seeing my family and the friends who are close enough, bagels, real drugstores, ENGLISH BOOKSTORES, Cote St-Luc BBQ chicken, Starbucks... just being home :-)