five days in

It is one thing to explore a new place as a tourist, and something else entirely to have one's first visit hold the possibility of finding a home. The last time I felt this way I was seventeen, pulling six months' worth of suitcase behind me as I walked the half-block from where the airport bus had dropped me on Bayswater Road to the student housing. It was early morning and all my senses were heightened. Every detail I saw held the promise of becoming part of me. The world was new.

Of course, it is now myself, a husband, and two little genetic copies making our way into this new world. So when, following a red-eye flight, we opened the street door to find two treacherously steep flights of stairs between us and our elegant "first floor" rented apartment, it felt less that like an imposition than a tidbit of information that helped us rule out nearly every long-term rental on our list. Similarly helpful, our "convenient proximity" to the peaceful-looking tram, which turns out to be quite disruptive when it rumbles by the apartment at night, and walking amongst the bicycles that look so charming from afar, but assume the character of NYC cabbies once they are criss-crossing pedestrian paths.

When we spent our first full day hunting down a carseat to replace the one Townes ruined on the plane (yes, it was a memorable flight),  driving to Haarlem through a blizzard to explore residential neighborhoods, and sitting in a hospital waiting room with a feverish baby, rather than feeling frustrated that the day had been so logistical, we congratulated ourselves on giving the place an accurately quotidian tryout. The subsequent days' meetings with schools and the English branch of our church filled in more of the picture, while delicious food (Indonesian, French, pofferjes, and chocolate, of course!), a little BBC programming, and an impromptu road trip to Germany for work reminded us why we wanted to do this crazy thing in the first place.  And luckily I have a Henry James novel from Audible to go to bed with at night, lest the existential questions crowd out sleep.

Five days in, it feels like we have already moved here; maybe a little too much so. What will the remaining five days hold? If I have my way, a chance to slow down, explore, and fall so much in love that we can't wait be back in a few months' time on a more permanent basis.

notable quotes 5.0 / 1.0

She's getting to be too smart for her own good, and fiction is more fun than fact, in her world. Who knows the extent of what is going on in that beautiful little head of hers. A few pieces of the puzzle that is our Violet:

Moms always tell the truth; dads sometimes tell jokes.

I need to grown my hair out long, because when I cut it in Spain I told my long hair I would see it again soon.

I know how Jesus made us.  He colored paper skin color, then cut it out and sewed it together.  Then He put it over our bones and used Glory to make us sort of come alive. That's how He did it!

Can I have the trousers [tweezers] out of your makeup bag?  I need to get this off of Dopio [she points to a clump on her stuffed dog's belly that needed to be removed]. Do you know why Dopio didn't cry?  Cause...he's...a...boy!  Boys don't cry. Ever.

Violet:  Mom, can you sing me a song about unicorns?

Me: I don't know any songs about unicorns...

Violet: Can you make one up?

Me:  Um... [I manage a feeble verse]

Violet: Not a short song about unicorns!  Make up a long song about unicorns!

Us: Where should we move to in Europe, Violet? If we could live anywhere?
Violet: Mmmm, I think any of those places we went last summer would be good. Except Spain. Definitely not Spain.
Us: Why not? You had so much fun in Barcelona, and San Sebastian...
Violet: Yeah, but those people don't know what to do with their al-coo-hol. [Apparently, the impression left by the running of the bulls was not a fleeting one.]

Me:  Violet, you would be a good writer. You are very good at coming up with new scenarios.

Violet:  What's a scenario?

Me:  It's a situation in which a story can take place.

Violet:  Yes, that's right.  It's also a breakfast cereal.  And the name of that guy crossing the street over there, the one in the black hoodie.

And I'd like to welcome TTO to Notable Quotes!  He has been waking up half-an-hour earlier than the rest of us just to lie in his crib and practice his talking and singing, so I think he has earned a little recognition.  I am including hand signals and body language, since they are an essential part of our communication right now:

ont dat! + emphatic pointing = i want that

dis + emphatic pointing = i mean this

allo!  bon jo! + enthusiastic waving = hello!  bonjour!

no!!! + rapid head wagging = yes or no

schoos (or buts) + extended foot & wiggling toes = shoes or boots, please

bay bun + violently but rhythmically shaking head up and down = the belly button song

baaa baaa + running to and pointing at door = let's get out of here

but-ton = emphatic pointing = i must press button (or hole, or black mark, or screw)

buuk + running with object in raised arms = please read me a book

g'ma = grandma

maman or ma'am + running with upward reaching arms = mommy

mom = food
meow or boll = milk or bottle

dad or dada = daddy

dada = (alt meaning) dance dance

bilate or ssss = violet

g'pa + waving or pointing = grandpa (or daddy, if he's been gone awhile)

awwww + cheek pressed against cheek, stuffed animal, or pillow = let's cuddle

We're off on a sightseeing (home finding?) tour of Amsterdam and The Hague tomorrow.  I'll be in touch!

amsterdam reading list

We have recently found ourselves entertaining the possibility of a move...to Amsterdam. I have approached this possibility as I have every possibility ever in my life, by reading about it. Fiction, non-fiction, fantasy, farce, crime drama; it has all, of late,  taken on a distinctly Dutch flavor.  Whether or not we do end up moving there, it has been fun to escape to a literary Amsterdam for a while. In case you would like to join me, a list:

Outsider in Amsterdam by Janwilliam van de Wetering   A cool, laid-back mystery starring two Amsterdam police detectives, worthy reading wherever you are

Amsterdam by Ian McEwan   The cover of which proclaims it to be "Winner of the Booker Prize" and a "National Bestseller," probably because it is a quick, easy read by a Brit who has a way with words, though he appears to be lacking any semblance of a soul. The actual time the book spends in Amsterdam is minimal, though, as the title would imply, essential to the plot

The Undutchables by Colin White & Laurie Boucke   A satirical look at Dutch culture and idiosyncrasies (we all have them), and probably the most useful of the bunch for someone who is looking to move there and needs to be disabused of romantic notions

Amsterdam, A Brief Life of the City by Geert Mak   A well-written narrative about the history of the place

Fairy Tales by Victor & Rolf   This series of original fairy tales is based on letters and illustrations by the Dutch fashion design duo. Pretty pictures and fun reading for fancy girls, whether five or thirty-five

Any Amsterdam suggestions, literary or otherwise?

christmas, at last

It has been six full days since we attended the live Nativity at the Church of Heavenly Rest on Fifth Avenue to set the tone for our holiday, and, at last, Christmas is beginning to feel complete. Last night big, pillowy snowflakes covered the mud and grass in a clean white blanket and Steve and Violet made plans to build a snowman in the morning. The scent of brown sugar and vanilla filled our rented holiday home as buns, half-cinnamon, half-chocolate, baked in the oven. Steve's stated goal for the week was to bake his way through our trusty King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion, and so he did, making bread in various forms: twists with chocolate and mascarpone, whole wheat bread, cheesy buns, and, today, pretzels. Our waistlines can attest that the week has been a tasty one. We miraculously (really!) found a home on the North Fork of Long Island in which to "play house" for a week, a cool, beautiful, newly renovated place that makes us think of what it might be like if we ever abandoned city life (it never goes beyond thought).

And we deserved it, after weeks of getting our apartment ready for guests, and ourselves ready to get out of their way. We wish never again to spend Christmas Eve and Day frantically cleaning and packing, but there are no guarantees. We thought we had Christmas all figured out a couple of years ago, a leisurely month of tree cutting, music, and outings, and then we added a second end-of-November baby and leisure abandoned us, possibly on a permanent basis. Add to this the likelihood that this was our last Christmas in New York for a while--more on that soon--and there no longer seems to be a point to creating an elaborate tradition. Maybe our tradition will be that we do every Christmas differently, aside from finding a Christmas Fair to peruse, attending a Messiah sing-along sometime in December and a religious service on Christmas Eve, and opening stockings on Christmas morning, all of which we managed to do as usual this year, in spite of the chaos.

It has been a beautiful week, just the four of us holed up here, doing projects and reading stories, the kids laughing and playing together, enjoying being a family. I love these people we have made, and the one I have made them with. We will be glad to be back in our regular life in a week or two, but for this moment, we are going to inhale every last crumb of our holiday.

Proudest parental moment:  Violet's unprompted suggestion that we wait to open presents until we had arrived at the house on Christmas Night. Is it that she has never seen television commercials, and therefore does not believe that new toys make for a happy life? Or was she just born with the desire to delay gratification in favor of something better? If so, I am certain she didn't inherit it from me!

Best entertainment: Watching Townsie dance. That boy has moves, bouncing up and down, sliding his head side to side. He will dance to anything with a beat, from classical to pop, or to the blender, in the absence of something more melodious.

Best quote: 

Violet: (Pointing to the horizon) "What is that? There is some light, then some dark cloud-like things over it."

Us:  "That's the sky."

Violet:  (Pointing again to the horizon) "No, that thing way over there, not straight above us."

Us:  (Noting that there is nothing else to which she could be pointing) "Yeah, that's the sky."

Best reason for living in an aparment: A one-year-old with stairs is nothing but trouble.

Most heartwarming thing ever: Watching our two kids play and laugh together. We thought we couldn't love anything more than having one child, but what do you know...

eating it up

It is birthday season. We and all the parents we know have autumn babies, and we have been running from party to party non-stop. That is not hyperbole; we're talking three a week, every week. The week after Thanksgiving was our birthday week, with not one but two babies of our own to celebrate.  And did we ever.

Thanksgiving dawned, the calm before the storm, as it were. Casually lying about the house playing with puppets, and a quiet turkey dinner with friends. Steve finally perfected his stuffing recipe. And then...

Party #1 - Officially Five

Let me preface this by saying that we are, at heart, minimalists.  Whether it is out of principle or laziness, we like to keep it simple.  We are still figuring out how to do holiday birthday celebrations, however, and this year Violet benefited from our indecisiveness with not one, but three, birthday parties. 

On her actual birthday, she woke up to gifts from us and her grandparents (including an adorable kitty cat dress her daddy bought her in Milan), followed by a late lunch in the food hall downstairs at The Plaza, with crepe cake at Lady M and a walk down Fifth Avenue to look at the Christmas windows. As always, she had dressed so as to be ready to be part of the show...

Party # 2 - The Birthday Party

We had planned for a handful of friends and a carousel in Brooklyn, but Hurricane Sandy put a stop to both the carousel and the ferry that would get us there. Added to that, our darling daughter had a new best friend at school every day (and a big mouth), and before we knew it we were taking the whole class, as well as all our favorite old friends, to see Wreck It Ralph, preceded by cupcakes in her classroom at school.  This is the one time of the year I bake cupcakes from scratch, and this year's were angel food topped with whipped cream, flavored with lots of vanilla and a dash of orange water.  Mmmm.

Party #3 - The Cakes

Violet had sweetly begged to wait to have her birthday cake until Townsie's birthday, so that they could have them together, one large, one small. Good thing, because one cake was not enough for this boy. Once he had polished off his own, he went for hers, and didn't stop until the table had been cleared. We think he has a future as a competetive eater. Many friends were there to witness the show, and we were grateful for the circle of friends we have been blessed with here.

But my favorite moment of the day was earlier, after Townes and I dropped Violet off at school. We stopped at Alice's Tea Cup for a quiet birthday breakfast, just the two of us. He made quite a handsome date.

I am so thankful for these beautiful babies. And we are never doing a week like this one again.  Next year, a quiet family dinner.  That is it!