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.