Four Months

Not all hospitals in Luxembourg are open 24 hours. There is only one hospital in the city open 24 hours and it's on a rotating schedule. 

To determine the hospital open 24 hours, should you need assistance after normal business hours, you call the emergency number (112) and ask. If you can speak French. And then they tell you. And then you say a prayer that you understood them correctly and can repeat it to your French-speaking husband. And then you google the address. And then you write it down on a piece of paper. And then you program it in the car's GPS. 

And then you drive to the hospital in the middle of the night. And park on a dark street several blocks away from the hospital (because there is never any parking anywhere in the city) and then you run as fast as you can to the hospital to avoid the hookers and drunken street youths, only to realize the hospital has a parking lot.  

And then you spend several minutes trying to figure out how to open the door. And you start panicking that you're never going to get inside and then you realize all you have to do is push. 

It's a fascinating social experiment to watch me, I'm sure. I thought I knew how the world worked. I've lived and worked in the biggest cities in the US. I've been to hospitals before. I've been to doctor's offices. I've had a bank account since I was 12. I know how to navigate a grocery store. Until now. Living in Luxembourg has rendered me useless and inept in a lot of ways and that is really unnerving when you have three children watching your every move as a really angry German woman yells at you because you aren't crossing the street quickly enough. And you get to decide if you're going to yell something back and burst into hot tears or go home and make Christmas cookies and sing Jingle Bells over and over and over again.

When I get home, I'm going to hug every immigrant I see at Walmart. I'm going to tell them I completely understand. I'm not going to be annoyed if someone holds up a line because they didn't understand the unspoken (or un-posted) rules. I'm not going to be aghast when someone can't speak my language and uses their child as a translator. I'm going to be grateful for Egg Nog. And non-runny cream cheese. And refrigerated milk. And stores open past 8 pm. And Walmart. 

When we are back in the states and relishing in the ease and luxury of our American lifestyle, I want to remember the following about our past month in Luxembourg: 

Ben coming downstairs as we are eating breakfast and starting the 7-minute workout. And then nearly passing out halfway through.

The pain of attending church. 

Our church building. And the missionaries.

Otto getting comfy during Sacrament meeting.

Finding out Yudri owned a salon in Barcelona and asking her to cut my hair. She came over and I noticed she had a bandage on her arm from having blood work done. I asked her if she had returned from the hospital. She said yes. She said the doctors were testing her steel. I was puzzled for a few minutes and then realized she meant iron. We had a good laugh about that. Then she told me how to take better care of my house plants. I love Yudri. 

Hosanna Stokes giving birth to little Beth. We made their family a giant pot roast in celebration. 

One evening at 10:30 pm, Hosanna messaging me that she was leaving the front door alas and that I should come over and wait for her in the living room so I could hold baby Beth without any distractions. I did as requested. 

Taking the kids to Bambesch woods. 

Aksel loving to play with trains.

Rainy, windy days.

Otto getting in trouble at gym class for refusing to participate. 

Aksel sleeping with a little while plastic horse he stole (Tracey gave him) from the Oliver's.

Being home taught by Scott Oliver and Matthew Turner. And then feeling grateful Ben cuts his fingernails. 

Ingrid crying every second she's not in my arms. 

Ben seeing the Grand Duke. 

The Grand Duke in front of the Palace.

Tracey Oliver coming over to hang out and arriving with canned pumpkin, maple syrup, and Cadbury chocolate. 

The following conversation between Otto and I: 

Otto: Mommy, why are you doing sit-ups? Is another baby going to come out of your tummy?

Me:  Do you want mom to have another baby?

Otto: I want you to have 10 more babies.

Me: 10 more babies is a lot.

Otto: You're right. We are going to need a bigger house.

Our car finally arriving and it coming with a bottle of champagne, called Luv. 

Aksel and Ingrid in the schoolyard. 

Two of the missionaries ringing our bell and asking if they could have the other two missionaries meet at our house in an hour for dinner (with four elders, they could come in the house with Ben still at work). I said yes and sent them to the bakery for bread. We had spaghetti and Dr. Pepper. The look on Ben's face when he walked in the door was priceless. 

Practicing saying toilette with Otto (he's required to audibly say this word when he needs to use the bathroom at school). He usually just whispers it or says yaw if asked. 

Using Curious George to help Otto make good choices.

Ben going to Paris. 

Tess saying Otto did really well at school.

Going with Ben to the Hollenfel Castle and eating lunch at Il Trio. 

Ingrid clapping for attention.

Making a gratitude tree for FHE and Otto requesting that we draw a picture of Oliver Chocolate Milk. And the temple. And his school.

Otto knowing how to turn on the TV and use the Apple TV remote.

  

Otto singing the Spirit of God at the top of his lungs from his bed at night. 

Aksel singing Jingle Bells at the top of his lungs from his bed at night.

Buying, cooking, and freezing pumpkin. 

Going to the American Military Cemetery. Feeling proud to be American. Seeing General Patton's grave. And then turning around to see Otto relieving himself in the bushes. 

Women in the neighborhood (with children in the same preschool class as Otto), not slowing down to walk together or acknowledging me from the other side of the street. 

Still cracking up over the street name Henri Pensis.

Attending the ward Trunk or Treat.

Watching Cinderella as a family.

Hiking with the Oliver's in Strassen. 

Running through Cessange.

Attending the Marine Ball. Sitting with Mike and Serene, an Indian couple we never actually spoke to but took a picture for, and an Irish girl and her husband (the former CEO of BNY Mellon Luxembourg bank), whose names we never actually heard (it was loud). 

Jess Scannell babysitting.

Ben getting rear ended on a man date with Scott Oliver. 

Getting adjusted by Dr. Scott at the Oliver's.

Darrell White coming over to give us blessings.

Ben fasting.

Going to the farmer's market in the city centre. 

The following conversation between Otto and I: 

Otto: What the heck! (as he's putting on his shoes)

Me: That's a funny thing to say. Why did you say that?

Otto: Agnes Francom says it a lot. What does it mean? 

The weather turning cold.

Eating dinner at the Oliver's and drinking chocolate milk. The next day I drove to Colruyt at 8:30 am and bought Nesquik. Otto refers to it as Oliver Chocolate Milk. 

Getting Otto to take a much-needed nap. 

Ben and Otto going to La Belle Etoile to watch car racing.

Getting a package from Ellen filled with fruit snacks, goldfish, swedish fish, chapstick, and sour patch kids and Otto yelling, It's Christmas!

Alienor Duffort coming over one afternoon to help take the kids to a park. 

  

Picking up Madi from school and taking the kids swimming at Les Thermes. 

Going downtown with Ben one night and ordering a hot chocolate, two macarons, and a hazelnut crêpe. 

Otto telling Madi his wiener is up. 

Taking the kids to the park in Cessange. 

  

Ben going to Lidl and DM in Germany. The boys loving to help unload the car and stock up our storage room. 

Taking Ingrid and Aksel to parks in the morning while Otto is at school. 

Going to the Black Forest and buying a cuckoo clock. 

Ben taking the Young Men in our ward Ice Skating, getting home and saying, I don't think they have a Zamboni. 

Schwarzwald

One night, Otto awoke to use the bathroom. As I helped him zip his pajamas back up, I realized he had a burning fever. Turns out he was really hot, 105 degrees. I told Ben we need to go to the hospital.

He disagreed.

I texted Becky Dunn.

Becky told us to give him a lukewarm bath to cool him down. With Motrin and a bath, we were able to get his temperature down to 100.

We made it to the next morning and he was still hovering at 100 degrees.

I called Otto's teacher to let him know he wouldn't be at school and she convinced me to bring him anyway. What's a little fever? I don't want him to miss our Halloween party, she said.

When I picked him up, he said, look Mom, I'm spider Otto. And he was right. But his temperature was back up to 102.

Time to go to the hospital.

Ben took Spider Otto to the hospital and texted me this picture:

Broke my heart. Our little flushed-face buddy had strep throat.

After filling prescriptions, washing off Spider Otto, and getting him ready for bed, Otto wanted to know if we were still going camping the next day. For weeks, our family had been preparing for and anticipating a four-day, three-night camping trip in the German Black Forest with the Holdaway Family.

I felt sick to my stomach. Then I recalled a conversation Ben and I had a few days prior where Ben said, I really didn't think kids would be this much work. Then I thought about the reality of putting Otto's strep throaty body in a car with the rest of us for three hours, possibly infecting the entire family. Then I thought about how much harder an already challenging endeavor would be with a sick child. And I called the camping trip off.

Ben and Otto ignored me.

We drove south two hours to Strasbourg, France. I ate m&ms, Aksel and Ingrid slept, Otto played with an iPad, and Ben complained about all of the speed cameras in France.

Our first stop was Parc de l'Orangerie. Across from the Council of Europe's Palais de l'Europe and designed in the 17th century by Le Nôtre of Versailles fame, we let the kids run around on the playground and then walked around and looked at the weird menagerie of animals in cages -- storks, flamingos, ostrich, mice, goats, and monkeys.

Then we drove straight to McDonald's. It was everything we needed and more. Emotionally.

We continued on to the Canvas Holiday campsite and immediately knew we were in for a treat when we met the camp host, Patrick. Otto and Aksel bounced around the 400 square feet for 10 minutes and then we headed up into the hills and tried to impart the beauty of the Black Forest upon our three-year-old, two-year-old, and a 9-month old baby.

Nobody slept. Ingrid froze. It was smelly. And it was every thing I feared before we came. But we survived. It was the perfect time of year to be in the woods, making paper airplanes, not getting any sleep, eating Koko Rittersport, letting the boys throw rocks in the stream, and spending time with the Holdaways.

We explored Triberg, hiked to a waterfall and then continued past the waterfall into the woods in search of a playground promised on a map. We found it.

We played at a park, fed some ducks, ate falafel, nursed in public, bought a magnet, and then drove to Gengenbach hoping three out of the five of us would fall asleep.

We lucked out with Aksel and Ingrid sleeping for more than hour. And we lucked out even more in Gengenbach. We immediately located someone selling gelato and then spent an hour walking around mesmerized by its charm.

I kicked myself 100 times on this trip for not bringing the baby bjørn, but we adapted and survived.
I feel like that's the theme of living overseas -- adapting and surviving. And not getting annoyed by how infrequently they cut grass. Or by signs that promise a park and it's only a patch of poorly cut grass.

Ben had spent hours researching cuckoo clocks in preparation for acquiring one during our time in Schwarzwald. Hours.

We knew taking all three children into any shop (or anywhere in public for that matter) would be a mistake, so we picked a park and a pond, packed a crazy amount of snacks and treats, and shiny new toys for the boys, and we sent Ben off in search of a clock.

After two hours and Aksel dropping his new Daniel Tiger toys down a sewer, which I had to fish out, Ben returned without a clock. He had, however, purchased a Christmas ornament and a piece of Black Forest Cake.

We put everyone in the car, gave the boys iPads and as many American goldfish as they wanted and made one last stop at the Robert Herr Cuckoo Clock Shop. Thirty minutes later, we drove away with our Cuckoo Clock and eagerly returned to our Luxembourg house (what Otto calls it).

When we walked in the front door, we felt something new -- like Luxembourg is finally home.

All three children rewarded Ben and I by sleeping through the night and the next morning Ben hung the clock. It never gets old to hear Otto and Aksel squeal and run toward the little bird cuckooing.

There's something really satisfying about surviving a family vacation and about keeping promises to your kids. And 48 hours later, we've already forgotten about the sleepless nights, melt downs, and discomfort and are planning a trip to Amsterdam.