Two Months

We've survived two months in Luxembourg. We've made friends. Our things have arrived. We're eating actual meals. We're sleeping in our own bed. We're no longer in survival mode. 

Things are getting better, easier, and more comfortable with each passing day. 

Overall, living in Europe is amazing because of the adventures, the sights, the cultures, and experiences. Yet, day-to-day life here is harder. So, I remind myself, daily, that the reason I am enduring certain hardships is because I'll be rewarded with grandeur on the weekends.

We celebrated our two month anniversary with Luxembourg by going to dinner with Darrell and Lori White at Le Perroquet. It was amazing. Even Ben said it was a fun night. A Rodizio-style restaurant with a European twist. The highlights included half naked dancers, Brazilian music so loud I could feel it thump around inside my chest, and amazing key lime pie, seafood, and meat.

I have felt a new loneliness make it's way and settle inside me. And I feel okay about it. I know it will pass. I know the isolation I feel here isn't forever. I know my children will get a little bit older and a little bit more independent and when that day comes, then I will be able to finish a thought or a sentence in French or English. Or I'll get pregnant again.

I want to remember the following about our second month in Luxembourg:

The bees. Lord help me, the bees. They are every where. And there are way more bees than I have ever seen in any other place. 

I took the kids to the Farm Park and a little French boy approached me and Ingrid in the bjørn. I leaned toward him so he could admire Ingrid (per usual), and instead he grabbed her foot and bit down really hard. She shrieked with pain, and I jumped back in surprise. His mother came toward us and I told (played charades) her what happened. She coaxed her son away embarrassed. A few minutes later, they approached us and she indicated the little boy would like to kiss Ingrid's foot as an apology. I leaned in again; shame on me. Instead of kissing her sore foot, he bit down AGAIN. It was ridiculous. She had a mark on her little foot for hours afterward. I'm going to remember this incident the next time I read an article about how well-behaved French children are. And then I'm going to post a comment at the bottom of the article like all of the other crazy people.

Swedish kids. Oh boy. I'm hesitant to even record my observations of Swedish children because of how deeply the Scandinavian pride runs in Ben's family. But, seriously? Swedish children are THE MOST unruly, unkempt, and rambunctious lot of children I've ever encountered. 

Studying the life of Jonah in Sunday School, reading Jonah 1:17, and reflecting on all the giant fish the Lord has prepared to swallow me. 

Making whole wheat muffins and giving one to Aksel, who promptly crushed it in his fists and then threw it straight up into the air to impress our visitor, Lori White. 

Giant spiders.

Watching Otto's face recognize the hymn, The Spirit of God, being sung in French during church and then looking at me with grave concern and shouting, "we don't know these words!"

Feeding the missionaries and sharing our American Dr. Pepper with them. 

Our neighbor's getting robbed while they were away on holiday. 

Otto peeing in our front yard.

The following conversations between Ben and I:

Me: I'm thinking about cutting my hair.
Ben: That makes sense. Harriett has short hair.
Me: Who's Harriet?
Ben: Harriet Uchtdorf.
Me: Ah. 

Ben: Would you rather stay here for four years or stay here for two years and do another two years in Norway?
Me: Does the Norway office want you?
Ben: Who doesn't want me?

Ben: I'm tooty tonight.

Me: You're tooty every night.

Watching Ben mow the lawn with a rinky dinky electric lawn mower and getting pissed.

Ingrid starting to pull herself up on everything and everyone. 

Otto asking to wear his towel like Ben, when he gets out of the bath.

Meeting up with Ashley Mosher and her son, Oliver (who we now call Luxembourg Oliver) at the Castle Park. 

Going to the City Centre as a family on a Friday night for gelato and walking around.

Ben and I eating a package of Golden Oreos in one evening. 

Going grocery shopping with all three little ones successfully.

A man walking up and down the street playing circus music out of a wooden box with a clapping monkey on top. 

Facetiming with Jessica Haslam so I didn't eat my feelings.

Aksel singing Old MacDonald Had a Farm at the top of his lungs during Stake Conference and in general every where we go. I can always locate him at a park by listening for the E-I-E-I-O portion of the song.

Otto being unbelievably obedient and kind and good and reasonable.

Every doorbell and mailbox labeled with surnames. 

Going to the Musée des Tramways et de Bus one Saturday morning and being unable to leave the parking lot because the gate arm wouldn't elevate. We asked the attendant for help, but he said he was unable to help because he was just filling in for the actual employee. We pushed a button for a long time on the call box in an attempt to get help and the man on the other end was super confused about who we were, why we had pushed the button and what we were trying to do. 

One of our neighbors has a giant banana tree growing in his front yard that he brought back from a island off the coast of Japan. 

I found out Quinn Dunn has a terminal brain tumor. 

Group texts with Kate and Lynn that keep me sane and miss our friendship.

Food from Yudri Rodriguez. 

Having Kyla and Madi White babysit.

Ben translating Sunday School for English speakers at church.

Eating dinner at the Oliver's home --  a delicious meal, a house full of people, candles burning everywhere, caged rabbits next to the dining room table, cats walking on the table, kids watching Frozen, and feeling like I really connected with another woman.

Walking on the Dudelange Interactive trail one Saturday and finding a park in the middle of the woods with a spinning tire swing. After letting the kids get their fill of the park, Aksel promptly pooped his pants and then refused to walk any further. It was a long walk back to the car. 

Watching the BBC production, Sherlock Holmes.

Otto, Aksel, and Ingrid melting down while I play the piano during Sacrament meeting.

Ben going to Poland and returning with incredible Christmas ornaments. 

Buying expensive paper products (plates, cups, utensils) and feeling ripped off.

Hiding the bowl of fruit from Aksel so he wouldn't climb up on the table or counter and take a bite out of every piece inside the bowl. 

Trying to find an ATM. Driving around in rush hour trying to find an ATM. Being unsuccessful. Shedding hot tears of frustration. Finally getting ahold of Ben who tells me there's an ATM a few blocks away from our house. Walking to the ATM and then realizing I don't know the pin to our new debit cards. Crying again. 

Attending a Tuesday-night broadcast of Elder Bednar from Germany to the European Sisters of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. 

Otto discovering the joy of a hand held shower nozzle.

Riding bikes around and feeding the ducks at Parc de Merl. 

Feeling overwhelmed and embarrassed in public. Case in point -- when I'm holding a fussy Ingrid and Otto exacts revenge on Aksel for taking his last cracker by pushing him down and Aksel then smacks his forehead against the pavement and I struggle to hold a baby, soothe and take care of Aksel's bloody head, and simultaneously comfort Otto about the loss of his cracker and the poor decision he's made to push his brother all while in public -- pushes me straight up and over the edge of sanity to a place where I'm taunted by feelings of failure, solitude, and the inability to control anything in my life.

Quaker Cruesli Cereal (the only breakfast cereal I really enjoy here).

Feeling strong impressions not to go somewhere or not to panic; feeling confident that if I just wait a few more minutes I will see that everything is okay and going to work out.

The following conversations between Otto and I: 

Me: Where's dad?
Otto: He went for a drive.
Me: He did? Are you sure?
Otto: Yeah. He just wanted to.

Ben: I'm downstairs.

Otto: Good news mommy, my wiener went down.

Me: That is good news, buddy.

We made play mailboxes one morning and I put little trinkets and treats in them throughout the day. The boys love checking their mailboxes, especially when they wake up or after complying with a request like putting on their coat and shoes or going potty. 

Aksel riding his trike smack into the side of a Maserati.

Meeting our neighbors, telling them we are from Utah, and then getting in an argument in broken English about whether the unabomber is also from Utah. 

Otto opening the front door for me.

Accompanying the Young Women during a special musical number one Sunday. 

Ingrid biting Ben's chest (nipple) while he was playing with her (I secretly love it when stuff like that happens). 

A very lively Bocce ball tournament in the middle of the day at the park across the street from our house. Every participant in the tournament was wearing a blue Brasil jersey.

Otto telling me he counted to 10 at school with Yara (the little Indian girl who lives behind us).

Receiving and accepting callings as advisors to the Young Men and Young Women's programs at church. 

Reading books with Aksel in the morning while Otto is at school and Ingrid is sleeping.

Doing playdough with Otto in the afternoon and him telling me they sang a song at school but I can't sing it because I don't know Luxembourgish.

Otto loving the Lotus crackers.

Otto requesting to eat a large piece of bread and jam, carrots, a banana, a handful of pretzels, and a small serving of trail mix every evening for dinner; and complying. 

Watching Daniel Tiger on our Apple TV after it arrived. 

Hearing Ben, Otto, and Aksel sing songs together at bedtime.

Taking the boys to play at Luxembourg Oliver's house and then fighting over Daniel Tiger toys, squirt guns, banana muffins, and destroying spider webs with sticks. I'm pretty sure Ashley wants her baby (and second boy) to stay in her tummy forever after seeing what a joy brothers can be.

Taking the boys and their bikes to the Jardin de Circulation -- a park with a miniature motor way, complete with stop lights, yield signs, stop signs, and a roundabout. 

Most people in our neighborhood and at Otto's school greet me with moien -- means hello in Luxembourgish. 

Sunday dinners at the Whites -- making us all feel better about missing our American Sunday tradition of big meals and visiting with friends and family.

Ben walking through the front door after being in Poland for a week and saying: I'm over Europe.

Construction. It feels like every street is undergoing construction and the constant deviations and rumble of tractors is nice for the boys and no one else. 

The Whites and Carmela coming over for Tacos and games; playing Apples to Apples and laughing so hard our sides hurt. 

Frequently, while we played at the park, Aksel would wander around the park and often outside the perimeter of the park. I could, of course, still see him, and see that he is really just testing me to see how I'll react about him wandering off and getting further and further away from me. However, the people of Luxembourg will not tolerate this behavior. If a car drove by and saw him on the outside of the fence, they would slow down, pull over and honk their horn until they could get my attention and then point at Aksel to let me know that he has escaped. Immensely helpful.

Aksel letting me sing him to sleep.

Brooke building me back up.

People at parks. All sorts of people. Young. Old. Lovers. Children. Teenagers. Business professionals eating their lunch. It's fascinating. The only park I've seen such a diverse crowd in is Central Park. 

Realizing Ben opened and ate a Norwegian chocolate bar without me. 

Going to the Forest Festival and Ardennes Horses Day in Munshausen and driving through Clervaux, an incredibly beautiful city.

Driving 1.5 hours to Nancy, France to attend Stake Conference. Fortunately, we sat behind the White family and in front of a row of missionaries, so our kids were kept entertained. I thought for sure there would be a mother's lounge at this building. No luck. There were, however, an assortment of couches and chairs on the stage at the rear of the cultural hall, so I nursed up there where I could still hear and see everything. Two other women joined me shortly thereafter. I felt like a champion. After the meeting, the cultural hall was turned into a cafeteria and everyone in attendance broke out packed food to eat before the long drive home. We opted to eat our packed lunches in the car and say a prayer that our children would sleep. We passed a KFC and I could tell Ben really wanted to go. Poor guy. 

English people replacing the word part with bit.

Hearing Aksel sing the song Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear while playing one afternoon and realizing I HAD NOT TAUGHT HIM THIS SONG. Then I became filled with shame and guilt when I realized he had acquired the song from watching YouTube. #momfail

Preparing and taking Otto to his first preschool class. 

Dealing with Aksel's disappointment that he didn't get to go to school too. 

Otto refusing to put the required footwear/slippers on. 

Otto's face when I pick him up from school. 

Rewarding Otto's school attendance with a coveted die-cast car from the movie Cars. 

Going to see a chick flick on a Wednesday night with Lori and Madi White. 

Going for a run with Aksel and Ingrid in the mornings while Ben drops Otto off at school. 

Consumerism, or the lack thereof. There are such limited options of everything here. If you want something, you've got to really make an effort to find a store that sells it. Then, instead of 12 options, you'll be lucky to find two. And if you can find it, you had better really want it because it's going to be expensive. Such a different experience. I hadn't realized just how accessible and affordable pretty much everything is in the states. Literally, everything. And I also hadn't realized just how much I can do without. It's a funny little head game. I can think of 102 things that I wish I could buy and yet I've now gone 66 days without them. On one hand, the accessibility of things makes life so much easier. Unbelievably easier. On the other hand, life is simpler because there's no other option without an incredible amount of effort, time, and money. But on the other hand, they're missing out on this world of things and yet they're not. Confused? So am I. 

Now that we've found our rhythm here in Luxembourg, I'm looking forward to what months three through 24 hold. There's no question that the Lord had a hand in us coming here. And there's no question that it would have been easier for us to stay. But there's something in store for our little family here in Luxembourg. I'm going to figure out what it is.

Précoce Gasperich

We enrolled Otto (in person at the Ministry of Education) for the Luxembourgish preschool here in Gasperich called Précoce. A few days later, we received the below letter in the mail, which essentially tells us he was accepted, and what days and times his précoce classes will be. 

A few weeks later, we received the below letter in the mail, which basically tells me where to bring Otto on what day and to be sure to bring this yellow paper with me. 

It started today. Ben walked him to school at 8:45 a.m. after I said a tearful goodbye to my little three-year-old. He agreed to smile for a picture and then Ben coaxed him down the stairs and street with the promise of seeing a tractor on the three-block-walk to school. 

His teacher's name is Tess. She's a tough cookie; no nonsense, but highly recommended. 
He has a little cubby and a hook for his backpack and shoes with a little label on them that he can recognize reads Otto. 

The classroom is big, bright, and lovely. He immediately started exploring and making himself comfortable. 

The Précoce schedule is: 

M/W/F
9-11:40 am
2-4 pm

T/TH
9-11:40 am

When I picked him up at 11:40 a.m., he ran to me smiling and gave me the biggest hug I've ever received. We walked straight to the park where he had a giant melt down about how I wasn't pushing him high enough on the swings. Super rewarding. 

I was only planning on sending him in the morning but after lunch and a rest, he declared himself ready to play with the other children, so I walked him back. He was reluctant as soon as we arrived and asked that I stay. 

A half hour later, I heard children playing in the park across the street and glanced out the kitchen window and saw Otto's class playing. It was hard to watch him. I know he's young. I know it was the first day. I know he doesn't speak Luxembourgish. I know most of the children have played together for years in crèche but it still broke my heart to see him so solitary among a group of children. 

I was texting Ben the play-by-play of all my observations when I realized I was dangerously close to emulating Mrs. Goldberg, so I forced myself away from the window until I picked him up at 4 pm. This time, he told me school was too long. I agreed. 

We visited with the Rodriguez family for a few minutes and then Otto and Aksel ran around on the schools grounds for nearly an hour until I coaxed them to walk home and get ready for dinner. 

I was fascinated by the amount of parents (mothers and fathers) who were able to pick up their children from school and by how many children have rolling backpacks. 

It's wonderful to live in such a child and family-friendly environment.

School supply list (Matériel schfblaire): 

sac à dos (backpack)
Boite à collation (snack box)
Tablier à manches longues (long sleeved smock)
Classeur DinA4 (A4 binder)
Pritt (big glue stick)
Pantoufles (slippers)
Goblet (cup)
Vêtements de rechange: slip, pantalon, chaussettes, pullover et T-shirt (change of clothes)

Additionally, each day I pack a snack for Otto in his backpack. The school was very specific that the snack should not be suckers, chips, chocolate, lemonade, or coke. The preference is spreads, fruits, vegetables, and water. 

required slippers

gym shoes

Elise Smith and I texted back and forth all afternoon, and I was grateful. She knows exactly what it's like to be here, living in this house, sending a son to preschool for the first time in a foreign country, watching them play out her kitchen window and wondering if and how he's handling it all.  

I thought our preschool experience would be a different one.  A more familiar one. With more English. But I have a good feeling about the short walk to school holding hands, about Tess, and about seeing a different Otto out my kitchen window a year from now. 

Shipment

Our shipment of things from Utah arrived on Monday. We had expected it to come (Ben is in Poland all week -- terrible timing) and all morning I would hear the rumble of a truck and look out the windows to see if it was stopping in front of our home.

At 1:30 pm, a truck finally stopped. The first thing I did was snatch up Otto and run down the stairs excitedly telling him the truck from Utah was here. He was equally excited. He knew what it meant.

Luckily, one of the men spoke broken English, and I began directing the unloading of boxes and furniture. I texted Lori White and she came over to help.

The men unloaded our queen bed and tried unsuccessfully to take it up the stairs. Then they argued with each other for a few minutes about whether to lift it up and into the window in the front of the house or the back.

Somehow, they agreed the back window was bigger and one man went upstairs to open the window.

The second man stood on his tip toes and lifted the box spring up until it rested on the window sill and the first man could hold on to it. The second man then disappeared and returned with a small ladder and long board.

He set up the ladder, climbed a few steps and then pushed the wood against the bottom of the box spring to fit it diagonally through the window. When it got stuck, no one but me was stressed. The first man just started pounding the crap out of the box spring with the board until it popped through. Really classy.

Lori arrived and set me straight. She kept Otto company while she sent me to find 20 euros to tip the men and an itemized checklist so I could ensure all of our things had arrived.

I was able to find 20 pieces in euros and the checklist after a skeptical look from one man and an annoyed look from the other. I discovered a shelf on the list was not in my house. After searching the truck, they were able to find it and eat some crow.

When all the boxes were in the house and garage, I presented my smoky saviors with the coins. They laughed out loud. I did too -- with embarrassment that was soon forgotten and replaced by my glee.

I located Otto's Little People Airplane that he had been asking for since our arrival and then Lori and I unpacked and set up the kitchen. Aksel and Ingrid soon woke up, so I saved the rest of the unpacking for later.

The kids and I celebrated by not leaving the house for two days and playing with every toy and reading every book we had missed (or forgotten about). It's amazing what we can do without and it's amazing what a difference stuff makes. And my own bed. And a can opener.

I would make a terrible pioneer.

Carlos & Yudri

When we landed in Luxembourg, we knew a man named Carlos would be waiting for us with his van. We also knew he was the Stake President. 

I watched him smile and laugh knowingly at our family as we left the airport and drove to our new home. He quickly and silently loaded our 16 pieces of luggage in his van, met us at our house, unloaded the van, and drove away before we could thank him. 

Two days later, the entire Rodriguez family stopped by with orchids (everyone gives and has orchids in their home here). And the gifts keep coming.

Our first Sunday in Lux, we went to their home for dinner. The food of sausages, ribs, chicken, rice, carrots (yellow and orange), and bread filled up the empty space we'd been feeling since our arrival. Yudri then presented an apple cake and a chocolate cake (both made in the microwave), and vanilla ice cream. We had a piece of each. And we didn't feel bad about it. 

Ben then declared I would be taking cooking lessons from Yudri. 

A few days later, as I was preparing to take the kids to Bambesch woods, I was carrying Aksel down the stairs (and two iPads), and five or six steps from the bottom, I slipped and fell. My left arm was split open and my right elbow was cut and badly bruised. Ben helped me bandage (and glue) my arms up and then he called Yudri. 

She came right away. She sort of looked at me like I was a dumb American woman who can't walk down stairs -- and I will feel ashamed the rest of my life. 

Yudri took Otto and Aksel to their home a few blocks away and an hour later, two of Yudri's girls rang our bell and dropped off hot rice, chicken, potatoes, and vegetables. Ben came home at lunch and when he tasted Yudri's food, he said he was going to start pushing me down the stairs if it meant Yudri would keep cooking for us. 

She brought the boys round for naps later that afternoon. They chattered on and on about the garden, the ice cream, and the toys Yudri and her five children had entertained them with. 

We attempted to thank Carlos and Yudri for all they've done for our family since arriving in Luxembourg and take them to dinner. When we sat down at a restaurant that was pretty much identical to Benihana, I had to choke back laughter. 

After a lengthy dinner, we walked through the City Center, breathing in the lights, the cigarette/food/perfume aroma, marveling at the thousands of umbrellas suspended above our heads, and ate a raspberry tart that changed my life. I felt as happy as I can ever remember. 

Yudri, Carlos, and Ben mostly converse in French. I can understand a few words. I practice some French phrases with Yudri. When Yudri speaks to me in English, she uses the words stress and crazy for a LOT of things. And I love it. 

One day she told me she was having "rasta" done to her hair. I had no idea what she meant. We stopped by later that week and it became clear. Yudri was having braids put in her hair. I laughed about that to myself for a long time. I'm going to call all braids rasta from now on. 

She also told me she remembers my name by recalling the Chinese word for elephant, which sounds like Taw-sh-ee-uh. Awesome. I wholeheartedly love English as a second language. 

Yudri keeps sending her children by with food, and I am trying to keep up. 

I sent Ben over one evening with a plate of peanut butter cookies and he said the whole family ate them off the plate while he stood in the doorway. Note to self: the Rodriguez children love peanut butter. 

Carlos has requested should we ever find root beer, he's going to need some. And we will happily comply. 

A native Luxembourger, Carlos speaks six languages -- English, French, Spanish, German, Luxembourgish, and Portugese. He works full time. He goes to school in the evenings. And he's a stake president. His time is precious, and he always makes time for Ben and I. 

Yudri came to Luxembourg after meeting and marrying Carlos in Spain (where Carlos served a mission with some of my BYU contemporaries -- Tim Heinz, Cody Adams, and Brian Morris), after leaving her home country, the Dominican Republic, looking for work. Whenever I see her, she tells me that she's here to take care of me. And I believe her. 

Her children -- Amanda, Michelle, Charlie, Adrian, and Sam love our boys and when we see them at one of the parks in Gasperich, they yell and surround Otto and Aksel, chasing them, playing with them, and making them laugh. They like to practice their Enlgish with me and they let me practice French with them.

I'm happy to be humbled by people as good and kind as Carlos and Yudri. It's easy to fall in love with them. Two people who should have nothing left to give -- keep giving. Carlos and Yudri keep serving me a heaping dish of humble pie; I keep licking my plate clean, and I can't wait for more pie.