Feeling Blue

It all started the 8th of November.  The day before my 35th birthday.  I am not one who cared much when I turned 30.  Didn't phase me at all, but this year life seemed well, unbearable.

I think that is when the cultural shock really took hold and just about suffocated life out of me.  I would look in the mirror and think, "Man, I look old.  Where did all this blasted gray hair come from?  And the wrinkles with zits.  Come on already.  Make up your mind...teenager or adult. Oh, and next year you should just be a cowgirl because you already have half of your costume, Ole Saddlebags!"

This trip to Belgium has been such a romantic thought.  Who does this kind of thing.  Uproots her whole family, finds her cowgirl whip and cracks it behind her unwilling herd.  Giddyup.  Ok, that was just keeping with the saddlebag image.  It really consisted of 98%  bribery.  "Come on guys.  I will buy you Belgium chocolate EVERYDAY. You can choose a destination in Europe of your choice.  And on and on." (Feel free to add-lib here.  I'm sure it would fit perfectly)

But back to November 8th.  Complete and total meltdown.  I had cried that morning.  Listened once again to the daily (probably justified) whining, which I hear every school day I might add.  "Oh, no.  Not school.  Mom we hate school.  We don't understand what they are saying.  We just sit there all day.  Don't make us go."  Today it really hit.  I dropped them off at there school with hugs and kisses and then drove the 40 minute commute to my French class.

My usual route from Leuven to Overijse is really picturesque.  Through little provincial towns like Eiden, Huldenburg and Neerijse.  Next to century old churches and brick building with amazing character. There was a slight mist in the air and everything seemed dreamlike.  It was truly a gorgeous morning. But one thing.

A constant gnawing feeling.  I couldn't place it.  I arrived at my teacher's house and entered the classroom and then he asked, "Quoi de neuf?"  It means: What's new?  And my reply...crying.  Uncontrollable, body shaking, ugly crying.  My friend Wendy gave me a hug and said, "Power through."  I sat for a total of maybe 5 minutes and then I excused myself.  I drove home blinded by my tears and tucked myself into bed.  I just thought that maybe I was tired.

The next day was my birthday and I tried to rally.  Wendy took me to lunch and we had a good time walking the streets of Leuven.  My family and I went out for dinner and I cried right before I left.  No real reason that I can nail down.

For the next month I would curl myself up into the fetal position and cry at least once a day.  To say I was hormonal is a HUGE understatement.  Call it what you will.  Depression. Case of the blues. Or plain old cultural shock.  Whatever it was, I never want to go back.  The closest I can think of was my post-postpartum depression mixed with the feeling of getting kicked in the gut.  Now that I think about it, maybe it was a lot like those dark days of years ago.  Anyways....

December was here and I had done 0 shopping, 0 decorating, 0 baking and I didn't even care.  I finally bought a po-dunk Christmas tree at the local Carrefoure. (Walmart)  and some ornaments to paint.  We sat around the table that night painting our ornaments and something trivial was said and I was at it again. Crying and bed.  Crying and bed.

I am not sure what brought me out of the black abyss or blues, but right before Shea's birthday of the 14th things started looking a little brighter.  Thank you Shea for being such a sweet girl and Logan for his smile and laugh and Hayden for his ability to talk your ear off.  (He really can.  I wonder where that shy, quite kid who hid behind my legs went.)  And a big thank you shout out to Brent who loves me still through it all.  Silver linings. :)

©ColleenFisher

A Visit from Sinterklass and his helper(s) Zwarte Piet

Zwarte Piet/Pere Foutard

‘Twas the weekend before Sinterklass, when all through our house

Quiet commotions were happening and perhaps even a mouse.

Logan and Hayden were playing Monopoly with care,

Both wondering who’s the ultimate tycoon, and who’s the spare?

Brent was upstairs programming solutions to problems as usual,

Probably wishing those bugs would disappear faster than his struedel!

And Shea doing math and I sitting next to her workin',

Had just decided it was time to get dinner a cookin'.

When from down the street there arose such a clatter,

Shea and I looked at each other and wondered what was the matter.

We heard knocks on our window, laughter and voices,

Singing and cheering and all sorts of happy noises.

The doorbell then rang.  We got up to answer.

Opening the door to five Zwarte Piet dancer-s.

They were talking and smiling and we understood not one bit.

“Ik spreek Engels” and they changed language in a Jiff.

“Sinterklaas is coming, here’s a goody bag for you”

Then I said, “Can I take a picture, maybe two?’

They grabbed onto Hayden and held him in their arms.

Logan and Shea stood in front, engrossed in the swarm.

We grabbed our boots and jacket and ran to meet their St. Nick.

He was sitting in a trailer…fully equipped.

He asked if my children and been good that year.

They answered a resounding “Yes!” and were of good cheer.

He then turned to me and said, “Ma’am, how’ 'bout you?”

I said, “Absolutely Not.”...And he knew it was true.

“That’s alright by me.” He said with a wink and a smile,

And then they were off after only a short while.

A visit with Sinterklass and Zwarte Piet was just what we were needing.

To lift our spirits on this snowy cold winter’s evening!

©ColleenFisher

What's That you say?

Hayden did some painting at school today. When we got home he was walking down the hallway.

"Hayden, what is that on your butt?"  I said.
"Ass paint." Hayden said.
"What did you say?" I asked.
He said, "That's paint."
My old ears are playing tricks on me!

But, both would be correct answers.  (And no, it doesn't come out!)

"Pants a la mode"

©ColleenFisher

Concert de l'Ecole

Yesterday, Logan and Shea participated in a school singing concert.  Shea was totally excited and Logan was well, anxiety ridden.  Most of the songs were sung in French, or course.  They did sing one song in English.  It was Chim-Chim Cher-ee from Mary Poppins.  I think it might have been for our benefit, but who knows.  We don't know French well enough to ask!  There isn't really a hard CH sound in French, so the Chim sounded more like Shim-shimmanee.  When practicing for the concert, they asked Logan and Shea how to correctly pronounce the words.  Great way to get my kids a little more involved.

The concert was held in a really old small town church.  It wasn't like any concert I have ever been too.  The school children would sing a few numbers and then this orchestra made up of young and older children would play a few pieces. The director of this "orchestra/choir" is a part of some major orchestra in Liege.  You can tell these people love what they are doing and wanted to be there.  It is such a big difference from the have too and guilt-ed into involvement I am so used to.

At the end of the concert everyone kept clapping like they were asking for an encore....and one was given.  I am sure this is the norm.  It seemed like everyone knew what to do and we loved it.  So worth the money we spent to watch the performance.  (Shea front row middle; Logan top right back)

©ColleenFisher

Will the REAL Valkenburg...please stand up, please stand up!

The Real Valkenburg

Saturday we decided to go to our first European Christmas market. Different markets make claims on being the oldest, the most "lit up" etc.  The one we chose was in a town called Valkenburg located in Holland.  It's claim to fame was "the largest and oldest Christmas market held underground."  That's right, it is held in a cave.  What isn't cool about that?  So, we plugged the address, or the part of the address we did know (Valkenburg, Holland) into our GPS and off we went. 

The drive was fairly uneventful. It is amazing what a few treats and a Ninetendo DS can do. Ahh, we had finally arrived, but we could see no signs pointing us to where the Christmas market was.  We stopped in at a gas station and asked the attendant.  "No idea, maybe the airfield?"  No, they are held in caves.  "Sorry, don't know."  We drove to the airfield thinking maybe someone there could help...but no.  We pulled into a gardening store and Brent the Brave asked the lady behind the cash register if she knew anything about the Valkenburg Christmas Market.  "Yes."  Yeah!!!!

"But you are in the wrong Valkenburg.  This Valkenburg is to close to the see to have caves.  The Valkenburg you need to go to is in the 'mountains'.  About a 2 hour drive from here."  What?!?!?  That's right the 'REAL' Valkenburg we wanted was only about an hour from our house to the east, not the north.  Nice.

Decision time.  Well, we could just take the 2 hour drive home or take the 2 hour drive to the 'REAL' Valkenburg and hang out, then go home.  So off we drove again to find the 'REAL' Valkenburg.

We arrived after the festive parade and pretty late in the evening.  We found parking, always seems to be an event in itself.  Walked to one of the two Christmas Markets held in caves and asked to go in. We walked up to pay (yes, it costs money to go shop..I think it is weird too) and the lady says, "We close in 15 minutes.  It probably won't be worth it.  I could sell you a child ticket and you could go in for 2 euro cheaper." Ok.  We did drive all that way.  "Oh, sorry.  My register won't allow me to sell you tickets."

So, the kids settled for a sausage dog as a consolation prize.  Never mind that we had eaten at McDonald's, the only place near the road, just an hour earlier.   Side Note- My children are going to look so old when we move back to the states.  They are growing like crazy.

We walked the streets for a little bit and found a souvenir shop that was still open.  We spent our time looking at everything and then came home.  Had to feel like the drive was worth it.

Next day:
Drove to the Christmas Market in the 'REAL' Valekenburg.  It took a little more than one hour.  Spent 12 euro on admission into the cave.  Checked out the vendor's wares.  Went back to the market we visited the night before, ate another sausage dog and came home.''

My review:
The cave was the coolest part about the whole Christmas Market.  It is enormous.  People hid in them during the World Wars.  They reminded me of something straight out of Lord of the Rings.  The Christmas Market itelf- kinda lame.  I was expecting more Christmas ambiance.  It ended up feeling like a swap meet in the wrong place.

I haven't given up hope just yet on all Christmas Markets.  Apparently there is a really amazing one in downtown Brussels.  I better make sure it is the'REAL' Brussels before I go.

©ColleenFisher

Visitors in the Night

It is after 9 p.m.  It's cold and dark outside and then our door bell rings.  Our door bell rarely rings, so I was honestly a little nervous answering it.  I call Brent's' name just in case I need a back-up for the mystery that awaits outside  He tells me, through our awesome video surveillance phone, that it is our next door neighbor.  Ok. No major problem, unless you don't speak any Dutch and she doesn't speak English, and she has a touch of dementia.

I open the door and invite her in. (It's cold outside).  She stands at my doorway and looks around.  She walks down the front entryway and looks in the kitchen and then our living space.  I "ask" her in English and with hand movements if she want to come into the living room.  She walks in and shakes Brent's hand and then starts talking rapidly in Dutch and to help us out she uses gestures.  She is very excited as she is speaking to use.  We here the words doctor and she is holding her chest and then gesturing the hand across the throat..you know...death. I am thinking that something is happening to her husband.

We are not quite sure what to do, so Brent calls our Landlord, her son.  No answer.  I end up taking her next door, hoping that this other neighbor (who I haven't met) knows some English.  (A lot of the Flemish people know at least a little, once again amazing)  I ring his doorbell.  He come to the door, but doesn't open it.  He yells through it in Flemish, of course.  I say, in English, "I am sorry.  I live next door and only speak English, and my other neighbor is very excited and trying to tell me something and I can't understand her."  He talks in Dutch again and then opens the door.

I ask him if he speaks English and he says a little and that he will try to help me.  He talks to my other neighbor and she repeats (I assume) what she told me without the gestures. He then translates for me that she wants me to know that her uncle and some of her extended family are in a bad way.  They are dying.  Phew.

I said, "Ok.  I am sorry to have bothered you.  I thought that maybe something was happening with her husband."  He says, "No, no.  By the way let me introduce myself properly.  I am Jan.  Welcome to the neighborhood.  My wife Betty has some short-term memory loss (and in walks the son-in his 40's?)  this is my son."  I attempt, "Guten Abend".  And he says to me, "You just spoke German,  in Dutch it is Goedenavond".  Oh, sorry.

Then Jan asks me, "Are you here on holiday?"  No. My husband works at research park.  "How long are you staying here?"  We will probably go home next summer.   "Are you learning Nederlander?"  I am currently trying to learn French and a little Dutch, but am doing both terribly.  We talk a little about the kids.  They can hear them.  I don't ask whether that is a bother or not.  I am sorry to have bothered you.  Thank you for your help.

My neighbor and I leave.  I ask her if her husband is home, with pointing, and she says yes but stops at my front door.  She wants to come in again.  Ok.  She comes into the living room again and sits on our couch.  I grab my handy, dandy computer and go to my good old standby...Google translate.  I start typing and she reads the translations and answers my questions.  "Do you want to stay here?"  Yes.  "Would you like to talk to me a little?"  Yes.  "Ok."

Her son calls Brent back and talks with his mom for awhile and then Brent. For the next 10 minutes or so I type questions while she answers them.  I attempt to speak what I am typing and she just looks at me and says.  Hmnnnn, no.  We "talk" about the chickens in the backyard and her beautiful walnut tree, and about our families.  I show her some pictures form facebook.  Her husband then comes and gets her.  He tries to just call her from the door, but she ignores him.  He comes in and then she goes with him.  I type, "Thank you for the visit" (dank u voor het bezoek).

Tonight was interesting.  Kind of sad ,a little crazy but mostly weird.  Sometimes you just have to accept the abnormality of it all, be creative and use the tools you have available.  Then again, maybe I just needed one more thing to make me stand out like sore thumb.

©ColleenFisher

Amster, Amster, dam, dam dam...

Yesterday we took a road trip to Amsterdam, The Netherlands.  Amsterdam is a little over 2 hours from our home and so we made our trip into a day trip.

Parking is somewhat of a nightmare in Amsterdam, so the plan was to go to the Olympic Stadium there and park and then rent bicycles.  Upon our arrival the parking lot was completely full and it was raining.  So, we made a plan B.  We drove to Anne Frank's house and were somehow lucky enough to find parking right in front.  We waited in line and then took the self-guided tour.  The more I see and hear about WWII, the more I admire those individuals that chose to hold tightly to hope and optimism.  It astounds me.  So many time I feel like abandoning ship and wonder who would I be if I lived in those times.  I wish I were one of the strong, but I really wonder.  We purchased a book call Tales from the Secret Annex by Anne Frank.  This book consists of the short-stories, poems and thoughts that Anne wrote down.  I lately seem to be having many thoughts about a little word WHY?  On the inside cover she wrote:

"Why?  Ever since I was a little girl and could barely talk, the word "why" has lived and grown along with me.  It's a well-known fact that children ask questions about anything and everything, since almost everything is new to them.  That was especially true of me,and not just as a child.  Even when I was older, I couldn't stop asking questions.  I have to admit that it can be annoying sometimes, but I comfort myself with the thought that "You won't know until you ask, " though by now I've asked so much that they ought to have made me a professor.  When I got older, I noticed that not all questions can be asked and that many whys can never be answered.  As a  result, I tried to work things our for myself by mulling over my own questions.  And I came to the important discovery that questions which you either can't or shouldn't ask in public, or questions which you can't put into words, can easily be solved in your own head.  So the word "why" not only taught me to ask, but also to think.  And thinking has never hurt anyone.  On the contrary, it does us all a world of good."

I love her thoughts.  And only a teenager.

We got lunch and then went to the Van Gogh museum.  We didn't spend as much time as I would like to of here.  Beautiful paintings.  My favorite...the Almond Blossom.  Really breathtaking.  So much beauty from a sad individual.  It was interesting to learn a little more about Van Gogh's life to.  I would love to go to this museum again.

It was time for dinner and we decided to drive outside of the city.  Like I said earlier, the parking is crazy and expensive.  We did a GPS search on places to eat and found the best Chinese food I have ever tasted in my life.  The restaurant was called Chinese Delight and it was.  I have never really enjoyed seafood, but this place has changed my mind.  It was amazing.  I asked Shea what her favorite part of the day was...dinner. I think she might have eaten more than me, and that is a big feat!

©ColleenFisher

Beethoven Who?

Brussels is home to over 80 museums, so we thought we would check out the Musical Instrument Museum (MIM).  I thought it was pretty amazing.

First of all the building the museum is in was designed by an architect named Paul Saintenoy in the art nouveau style.  No, I don't know much about architecture or this architect, but I am totally digging his style.  Dark wood and trim and door with marble tiling.  Very cool.

On to the museum.  You are giving headphone to wear and when you are standing in front of and facing the exhibit the music from that particular instrument plays.  There were instruments from India, Africa, China and of course Europe dating pretty far back.  (OK.  You got me. I can't remember the oldest musical instrument there.)

My children were definitely feeling the beat.  Hayden and Shea were shaking there little tushies all over the place.  No I didn't stop them,  I joined their ranks.  In fact there were other people dancing there as well.

I only took two pictures here.  After taking them, my friend informed me that they weren't allowed.  Whoops, but I wish I would have known that a little later.  Upstairs in the piano/harpsicord/guitar area was a piano that belonged to Beethoven.  That's right THE Beethoven.  Kind of amazing. I brought the kids over to the piano and told them, "This piano belonged to Beethoven."  Shea said, "The dog?" (a movie naturally) and Logan said, "No. don't you know who Beethoven is?...he painted the Mona Lisa."  Then proceeded to laugh hysterically. "Just kidding Mom, I know who he is."

Today we are going to talk about Beethoven.

©ColleenFisher

Technopolis

Shea lost her head

Hayden using his head

On Wednesday, the kids and I joined some friends at Technopolis in Mechelen.  Technopolis is filled 100's of  hands-on experiments.  This place is amazing.  The building is so full of fun, that it spills out onto the front sidewalk.

When pulling into the parking lot you see a huge lever system with a car on one side.  The kids all pulled on the ropes hanging from the opposite side and hoisted that car like it was nothing.  They were instantly on cloud nine.

Inside Logan rode a bike 1/2 way across the lower floor on a tight-rope.  Shea lost her head on the optical-illusion table and Hayden pounded his against a drum to test sound waves.  (He originally used his fist but got tired and started using his head.  They had a chess set outside and Logan challenged some French speaking kids.  Both games the other boys quit before they lost.  Logan was a little disappointed they wouldn't let him finish.  Oh, well. We all took turns laying on a bed of nails and played with bubbles and water.  Logan and I played a "mind game". The game consists of a small ball that is pushed/pulled away from the person with the least amount of anxiety/stress/heartbeat.  Surprisingly, I won.

Logan the Acrobat

The place I learned the most, was also the most simply built.  It was a hallway with alternating light and dark carpet tiles.  You are given the instructions to cross to the other side of the hallway only on the light grey tiles.

Carpet with a meaning

On the other side you read.  "Did you only walk on the light grey tiles?  You really are a good girl or boy, aren't you? In some situations it's good to follow orders, but it's best if you maintain a healthy critical spirit.  Here at Technopolis also, when you're doing an experiment, critical thinking about why you're doing the various things you're asked to do is always better than the slavish following of orders."Sometimes, I honestly wish my kids would just do what I told them to do.  They are always asking why and do have strong wills.  I need to remember that that isn't such a bad trait.  Asking WHY is a valid question and so simple to do.  WHY don't I ask Why more?  WHY don't you?

©ColleenFisher

Koln, Germany

Kolner Dom

This past weekend was a 3-day weekend for Brent, so we packed up the car and headed to Koln (Cologne) Germany. Koln is only 2 1/2 hours away and we actually made it in about that much time.  I am not sure how, but I think I might have witnessed a miracle. (If wondering why, read about our trip to Paris)

Upon arrival we had pent-up energy from sitting for SO long that we decided to climb to the top of the Kolner Dom.  The children climbed with our friend Ron at record speed I am sure.  Brent stayed behind with the straggler, me. Not the best day to choose style over comfort.  Boots with heels are not the best way to climb a small and winding staircase. There was only one way up and down, so part of the time I was barely stepping on any stone as the crowd of people were trying to get past each other..  A little scary.

Forest Art

After this amazing feet we were starving.  (We hadn't eaten for like 3 hours.)  We headed to the massive train station to find a place to eat.  We divided and conquered the quest for lunch.  The adults bringing sushi/Chinese food in to the Pizza Hut for the kids.  After lunch we walked around a chocolate/candy and bought the kids a bag.  (Everything seems to go so much smoother when food and candy are involved.)

We then watched street performers and toured inside the cathedral.  We were a little tired of walking around so we decided to take a little train tour of Koln. Honestly it was kinda hmm, but it was nice to sit, chat and eat candy.  The kids loved it.

Rheinfels Castle

The next day we went to Rheinfels Castle near the town of St. Goar on the Rhine River.  This castle, built in 1245, is now in ruins.  It is amazing to see the size of this place, even in such a state.  There is a maze of tunnels underneath the ruins that you can go into still today.  It is so small that most adults would have to crawl through them.  Shea was the bravest and went with Brent first.  The boys followed later.  The boys went through twice and Shea 4 times.  Colleen 0.  I hate small spaces, especially in the dark.  The Rhine River was so beautiful dressed in its' full Autumn attire.  On the way home we looked down a forest road and had to turn around.  Carved out of trees were the coolest wooded statues.  Someone has amazing talent hidden in the forest.  My guess...forest gnomes.

The large prison cell (30 people)

Monday was All-Saints' Day and no school.  We were still in Koln and decided to go to the "El De" house.  It was used as a Gestapo Prison during WWII.  In the basement were cells built to hold 1 or two person, but really held 8-10 sometimes more.  On the walls were engraving written by the prisoners themselves in many different languages.  Russian, Czech, French, Dutch, German, Romanian and on.  Many saying they didn't know why they were there and about the torture they could hear coming from the other rooms. Heart wrenching stories. These stories could change a persons' life if we pondered them for any amount of time and....if we let them.


©ColleenFisher

Halloween

Hayden and his friend the Werewolf

Shea getting some fairy advice

Halloween isn't a big holiday here in Belgium.  Only a few homes have festive decorations and when entering the grocery store you might be lucky to find 1/2 of a shelf on half of a aisle tucked in the back with anything Halloween.  The only trick-or-treating I heard of was organized by an American expat living in Belgium.  I voted against the OD of candy and in favor of taking a "walk in the woods" with some friends at the city of Ottignes' "celebration".  It was a mash-up of Halloween meets a "Mid-Summer's Night" -only in October.  Different, but really fun.

Do blonds really have more fun?

Oh, but I'm a GOOD witch.

Upon arrival we followed the masses, many of whom where dressed up, into a tent with music by a live band and an offering of free pumpkin soup for the children.  They wouldn't eat it, so I indulged.  (A little spicy, but not bad.)  Onto the trail of lights winding through the park.  The next couple of hours were spent wondering the path of lights and stopping in on little gypsy looking wagons.  There were children crafts, pumpkin carving, zombies dancing, story telling, fairy/elves dancing around a bonfire, a puppet show, pumpkin carving, flashing lights in the woods, and a mid-evil wooden dragon puppet that blew fire.
We went back to the tent and bought our children a hot dog and soda. A little healthier than candy, but probably not much. It was a very cool enchanted Halloween.

©ColleenFisher

Musee Du Jouet (Toy Museum)

Today's adventure led the Fisher Family to the Musee du Jouet (Toy Museum) in Brussells. We thought to ourselves, "What could be cooler than a museum that actually lets you play with the toys? We are so there!" So off we went.

We got there a little early and had time to talk a short walk to the Botanical Gardens. It was a crisp autumn day, but in the sunshine it was quite lovely. We strolled around for about a half hour. In that time we met a man named Ben from England, who has lived all over the world, and made the decision to move to Brussels on a whim. (The last part sounds a bit familiar, and all that information was given in less than 5 minutes. I think if the Minute Menu Plan doesn't work out, I think I might have a career in the private investigator field.) (Picture-Me trying to show the kids how much fun this museum can be. I realize I am riding a "rocking motorcycle"...The real "rocking horse" was missing the handles.)

Back to the museum. It is run by a very nice elderly man, who let me attempt to speak to him in French and spoke V E R Y S L O W L Y back to me. I loved it. What I did not really care for was the museum. I was a little disappointed with the lack of toys my children and myself, could play with. Most were in glass cases, and kinda reminded me of hmmm.......an attempt at a collection of antiques, but to the untrained eye (mine) the leftover garage sale toys that manage to make it to the shelves of D.I.

We were checking out a electric train and Shea turned around and said, "If you are going to ask me what I think about this place, it's kind of weird but mostly dumb. All these toys and you can't even play with most of them."

I concur. Oh well, can't win 'em all.


(My children in their constant state of excitement. I have stopped trying to have a "great" family picture that shows everyone with beautiful smiles. It's just not possible. Plus, these make me laugh WAY more.)

©ColleenFisher

Playing with Food

Sometimes you just have to PLAY with your food.

It's WAY more Fun,

AND less filling!!

©ColleenFisher

Vossem Light Parade

Last night, with some old and new friends, we went to our first ever night parade. The city of Vossem Belgium was hosting the festivities and it was definitely a first. We had such a great time.

We had dinner at our new friends home and then made the short walk to the city center. There aren't many street lights in these small cities, but people had their homes decorated with christmas type light, candles in jars and luminaries. We found a perfect spot on the street and waited for the parade to begin.

This parade was similar to other parades that I have been to in some respects, but cooler. There were people dressed up in "traditional" Belgium costumes on differing heights of stilts all painted to look like the Belgium flag. There were others dressed up like witches with their broomsticks aglow running around the street and straight toward us. (Hayden saw one coming and let's just say the kid has good reflexes-he was outta there fast) There were the "friendly giants" of great Tervuran-2x's as tall as most men-maybe even Uncle John! And my personal favorite-A funky looking bicycle pedaled float with monks dressed up sitting around a bar-handing out beer to the parade-goers. Forget candy for the children. (They did have cool glow stick though.)

Fun night.


©ColleenFisher

Not If, But When...It's When

In my post, Pete and Repeat went to the Hospital, I mentioned that because my children were so active it wasn't a matter of IF we went back, but WHEN. Well, the when happened less than a week after Shea got her cast removed......

Shea flashing the "Peace sign/2nd time sign".

I was in the lovely town of Tervuren, with my friend Wendy when I got a phone call from Brent telling me that Shea got hurt again at school and I needed to go get her. Seriously!!! "Now, don't freak out." Brent says, "She hurt her hand, and we need to take her to the hospital, but she's ok." Off to school I go, again.

This time I needed to take Logan and Hayden out of their classes too. We only have one car and I knew I wouldn't make it out of the hospital before the school day ended. The best part? I was able to tell the Director I needed to take Logan and Hayden out in French. (Well, enough that he could understand me at least.)

What happened you might ask? There is a gate connecting the "playing field" to the "school yard" area. There were two boys (5th year) on one side of the fence pushing one way and two girls (3rd or 4th year) pushing on the other side. A sort of a game let's say. You might be able to see where I am going with this. Shea came along and knew that she, with her superwoman strength, could help these girls beat those puny boys, plus she wanted to go to the school yard side. (Never mind that she could of just walked around the building the other way.)

She starts pushing one way on the girl side and manages to move the gate inches, in their favor. To keep her stronghold she puts her hand in between the gate and the building to keep hold of the girl's small, but well-earned gain. The boys get a sudden burst of energy and SMASH. Yep. I thought for sure her hand was broken. Off to the emergency room, again.

After our visit to the E.R., radiologist and back to the E.R. We are assured that her hand in NOT broken, but that all the tissue underneath her skin is bruised badly, probably worse than a break. No cast, but and interesting hand wrap with a metal support taped to her fingers.

Thankfully it is not the same doctor who said on our last visit when the cast was removed, "I hope to not see you again." We don't see him...until the next week. When we enter, he shakes his head and he automatically knows he needs speak English to us. I felt a little like Norm on the TV show Cheers. "The crazy Americans are back." Yep, they've got us pegged.


©ColleenFisher

Deutchland Oktoberfest- Family Style

I love Autumn. It is my FAVORITE time of year. I love the smell of good-things baking, the feel of the crisp air, the sound of the leaves crunching under my feet and the ABUNDANCE of color. Autumn is my Spring.

This past weekend, we enjoyed this time of year in one of the most famous/infamous places known for it's "Fall Festival". Germany. We went to visit our friend Ron Hubscher in Stuttgart. We left right after school on Friday and drove east, through the beautiful Ardenne Mountain range and onto the autobahn. After a long scenic drive and an interesting wrong turn (given to us by our moody GPS guide that we have named B, short for Beatrice when she is helpful and good, short for something else when she is not) we arrive at our destination.

Ron is gracious enough to let us stay at his place. We not only stay, we take over. He gives us his bed and he sleeps on the couch. Nice guy, right. I think so.

Saturday morning we are on the train headed for the Volksfest. Yippee! It's around 10 a.m. and people are piling into the trains dressed in their finest lederhosen and dirndls, bottles of beer in hand. (Never wanted a drinkl so bad-some were really cute) Some drunk college age kid started talking to Hayden in Germany and Hayden runs over to me. I say we only speak English and his friend translates that his "tipsy" friend was trying to have a joke with Hayden about him being and old man. Obviously the joke didn't quite work out as well as he had hoped...lost in translation I guess.

The festival was alot like an enormous carnival. It reminded us of Lagoon in Utah. They even had a roller coaster that was exactly like the Colossus. Only Hayden and I braved the roller-coaster. Shea, Logan and Hayden enjoyed riding the "musical express" three times and doing the bumper cars. (Holy crap. I have never seen bumper cars move that fast before. Hello whip-lash!) The festival/amusement park even had a log ride set up. A fun time was had by all. I think my children's favorite part was the cotton candy. I was taking a picture of Shea when right on cue an obliging German jumped in. This picture makes me laugh every time I see it.

We enjoyed eating carnival food and taking in the spectacle. We ducked into one of the restaurants for lunch. Traditional 1/2 chicken, potatoes and apple soda. I was a little disappointed in the pretzel. I was hoping for large, warm, deliciousness. Got the opposite. Next time warm delicious pretzel, you will be mine.

We did peak in some of the "tents". Really they were Ginormous building chuck full of people. Lots of laughter, music and dancing. On the day we were there we only saw 4 ambulances. The Germans sure know how to have a party.

The next day we went to the gardens at the palace in Ludwigsburg. This palace has AMAZING gardens. They have this whole "children's" section set up with famous fairytale story rides and houses. We took a boat ride featuring the story of Pinocchio, saw the Frog Prince, Little Red and the Enormous wolf, and looked through the magic mirror. Shea was of course, the fairest in the land. Hmm. Does that make me the wicked step-mother? (Just depends on the day..ask my children. Rarrr!)

We picked the best day to go. They just happen to be having a fall festival. Gourds of every shape, color and size were there. Through out the grounds there were "statues" made up of gourds. We ate our picnic lunch in the sunshine and enjoyed a wonderful day.

I'm telling you, Autumn should be called Awesome. Just saying.

©ColleenFisher

Bon Anniversaire Hayden à Paris

When planning our move to Belgium, we promised the children that they could chose a place to visit in Europe for their birthday.  Hayden's birthday is September 22, and the first one we get/got to celebrate in Belgium. This past weekend we made good on our promise. 

Hayden's birthday wish: To Eat Something on the Eiffel Tower.

Hayden's first view(candid)

We left for the 4 1/2 hour drive to Paris after school on Friday.  We arrived at our hotel in Paris about 6 hours later.  (Note to self-no more drinks for children on road trips).  We booked two rooms.  The maximum occupancy per room was 2 children.  Our friend Ron was meeting us for this weekend getaway, so he GOT to share a room with Logan or Logan with him....whichever. The rooms were as small as my childrens' bedrooms back in Highland, crammed with a "queen-sized" bed and a twin bed with a trundle.  Good thing we came to NOT stay in our hotel room the entire time.  We basically had snacks for dinner and crashed.

Saturday morning, 8 a.m..  Rise and shine!  Let's get going.  We got breakfast at a neighborhood market and  headed underground to figure out the metro system.  After some help from our friendly ticket lady, (she actually really was nice) we took the train to the city center.  First stop-la toilette.  (No more water-ever!)

Our favorite statue at the Louvre

For the next few hours we walked around town, in and out of shops, just enjoying the atmosphere.  We found a game shop and Logan was invited to play a game called War Hammer.  I don't know much about the game, but Logan won in a few minutes.  We got a bite to eat at a take-away sandwich shop and walked toward Notre Dame.  We arrived just in time for the bells.  No sign of Quasimodo. 

After Notre Dame, we walked to the Louvre.  The children were kind of tired of walking by now, so we just sat around the fountains outside and relaxed in the nice sunny weather.  After our break, we went inside to check out the inverted pyramid.  We walked around the shops, but no one really seemed to want to go in and enjoy the real art but me, so we headed to the Itunes store- just outside the museum.  We played on the new ipod nano and the iphone and then headed to the 'Latin Quarter' for dinner.  We ate at some Greek restaurant and then took the train to the Eiffel tower.

We told Hayden we would go see the Eiffel tower at night and again the next day for breakfast.  We got out of the train and looked at souvenir shops on stroll to the tower.  I was holding Hayden's hand and noticed the tower through the trees.  I said, "Hayden-look."  His face was priceless-even with gum in his mouth. When we were under the tower, he said it was smaller than he thought, but maybe he didn't want to go up in it for breakfast.  Brent and I said we would come back and just eat by the tower and then decide later if we wanted to go up it.

Moi et Mon Amore

The next morning we boarded the train and set off again to our "principale destination".  We embarked the train on the other side of the Seine.  This time at stop: Trocadero.  This is THE place to view the Eiffel tower and enjoy a breakfast of warm crepes with Nutella and banana.  What a view! and YUMMM!  (Hayden and I had the crepes, Brent-waffles, Logan and Shea-a hot dog with a coke. ???)
  
After a relaxing breakfast with a view, we decided (with some bribery) that we would climb the Eiffel tower.  We climbed to the 2nd floor and enjoyed the views of Paris.  On the way up and down around the half-way mark Shea and Hayden break into song......Whoa, we're half-way there, Whoa-o living on a prayer.  Bon Jovi would be proud.  You could hear the other "hikers" laughing.  All I can say is Thank you Rock Band.  After our time at the tower, we wandered the streets of Paris some more, passing by the the Military School and stopping in at a cafe for lunch.


Time to go.  Paris for the weekend was a whirlwind trip time wise, but once we slowed down a bit, it became enjoyable.  Sometimes I think I need to squeeze so many things into my day, a trip, a life that I forget to slow down and just APPRECIATE.  A life lesson I need to apply.

Saying good-bye to Ron

When Hayden first told me what he wanted to do for his birthday, I thought it was kind of funny...Eat something at the Eiffel Tower?  That little wish ended up being my favorite part of the whole trip- breakfast with my family on the steps of the Trocadero, while basking in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.

Bon Anniversiare Hayden!(and Ron)
Paris etait Merveilleux!
                   
(Happy Birthday Hayden.  Paris was Marvelous!)


©ColleenFisher

Grandpa and Grandma Fisher are coming :) and going :(

The first week in September, Grandpa Frank and Grandma Judy Fisher came to visit. They arrived Sunday morning and instead of being totally wiped out from their journey they were ready to get moving. We decided on Brugge and off we went. (What troopers!)

The train ride went by quickly and soon we were at our destination. We strolled the streets of Brugge and our first stop was the Church of our Lady to see Michelangelo's 'Madonna and Child.'

We showed Frank and Judy our favorite Brugge spots and then enjoyed dinner in the main square. Dinner apparently didn't fill us, so we stopped to get some traditional Belgium Waffles for the train ride home.

The next morning the kids went to school and Frank and Judy slept. (Finally) Brent took the afternoon off and we enjoyed our stroll around Leuven. We enjoyed a late lunch and then I needed to get the children from school. Frank is an architect by profession, but also a wonderful artist. While I was gone with the children, he took out his painting supplies and painted a beautiful picture of the Grote Markt as seen from the Stadhuis. What talent.

More of Frank's Art.
http://pleinairzionpark.blogspot.com/

We had a great time with Frank and Judy. Thanks for the visit. Next time stay longer.

©ColleenFisher

Pete and Repeat went to the Hospital....

On the second day of school a woman named Katherine, the mother of Antonia, Alexi and Raphie, invited me to her home to help me "learn some of the ropes". We sat around her table and chatted for a few hours (in English). It was delightful. School was over and it was time to go get the kids. Katherine invited me and the kids to come back after school. I thought this would be a great opportunity to formulate some friendships and accepted her offer.

When I went to pick up the children, I found Shea holding her left arm next to her stomach and looking like she was in a little pain. Having seen this before, I decided to give it the rest of the day to see if she might miraculously feel better when we were at our friend's house. We enjoyed a few hours of play and talk, but Shea would still not use her arm. Hmm. Maybe it is just a sprain. She wasn't crying or freaking out, so we waited until the next morning.

Still no sign of improvement so off to the doctor we went. Thankfully we had already been to a doctor to get physicals done, so we knew where one was and that she spoke English. We called and were in her office less than an hour later. Do I have and SIS card yet? No. (SIS card is some sort of card we are supposed to carry around with all our medical history/information on it) The doctor checked her arm and sent us to the Radiology department at the hospital.

The hospital...

When arriving at the hospital you must go to registration. No big difference from America. We enter through the registration doors and are immediately lost. I ask the lady behind the desk, "Do you speak English? Yes. "What am I supposed to do?" She pointed to a ticket machine by the door. The machine gives you 3 choices, all in Dutch. We tell her why we are there and she pushes the one that looks like it could say "registration". We get our ticket and wait. The waiting room kind of reminds me of the DMV.. You have rows of chairs and you wait for a huge t.v. monitor to display your ticket. Once your ticket is displayed you go to the window/desk waiting for you. We wait, get called and then I ask my favorite question, "Do you speak English"? Yes. Do we have our SIS card? No. We get registered and then sent to the radiology department.

We take the elevator up to the floor where radiology is supposed to be located. We exit into an area that looks like it should be closed off for construction/remodeling work. The door to our right says "radiology" so we walk through it and enter a long hallway with electrical wires hanging through the ceiling and the wall to our side looks like a temporary wall of plastic looking sheet rock. There is a door open on the left and a women inside who I ask my question again. "Do you speak English?" She does, of course and takes our paper work from registration and tells me to wait in the waiting room down the hall. You mean the hall under construction? Yep.

We walk down the hall and see a room with people, chairs and real walls. This must be the place. After waiting a little while a name that sounds like Shea's name is called. We approach the technician who starts talking to us and again I say, "Do you speak English?" Yes. He bring us further down the hall to a row of doors in the temporary wall side. We go through one. On the other side is a pretty normal looking x-ray room. X-rays are finished and we are sent back to the waiting room.

A few minutes later we are called back up. Yes, Shea's arm is broken and we need to go down to the Urgent Care/ Emergency area. (Crap. I guess I won't be winning the Mother of the year award again this year.) We go back down the hallway of construction/construction workers-with no whistles-lame. We go back through the doors, down the elevator and get lost. We were told to go right, but the door says "Do not Enter". A man in scrubs walks through and I ask, "Do you speak English?" A little bit. "Can you tell me how to get to Urgent care?" Through these doors. He actually walks us there. Thank you, thank you. We went through a few other doors and were where we needed to be.

I hand the lady the paperwork from the radiology department and ask, "Do you speak English?" Yes. Do I have my SIS card? No. Wait on these chairs and a nurse will help me. Enter the nurse speaking Dutch. "Do you speak English?" A little. The nurse checks us in and then we are sent to wait in another waiting room. We wait some more and then are taken to a room to wait. A doctor enters and starts talking. I interrupt. "I'm sorry, I only know English." He speaks to me in English and tells me he will need to put a soft cast on Shea and then leaves. About a half hour later the nurse from the beginning comes back and suits Shea up in her soft cast. We will have to come back for the hard cast next week.

The next week..

Registration department take two. We enter the doors and push the "registration" button. After our number is called we ask, "Do you speak English?' Yes. Do I have my SIS card? No. Done registering. Up the elevators to Orthopedics. Hand the paper work to the receptionist. "Do you speak English?" Yes, Please wait in the waiting room down the hall. The nurse calls Shea. "Do you speak English?" Yes. She brings us into a room with 4 beds lined up. We get a bed behind curtain number 3. The doctor comes over and starts talking in Dutch. The nurse says, "They speak English" The doctor changed language mid-sentence. Amazing. Set Shea up with a cast and we were on our way.

My side note.

The hospital-Crazy, but like most things, once you know the system it can run smoothly. I hope to never go back to the hospital again, but if any of you know my EXTREMELY active children it is not a question of if, but when.

I am totally fascinated by people who can speak multiple languages. Most of the Flemish people we have met hear speak Dutch, French and English. (Thankfully) I feel kind of language stupid. Do I speak English? Yes, but only just.

©ColleenFisher

On the First Day of School...

The first day/week of school as told from the mouth of my babes....

Logan’s 1st Day of School
On the 1st day of schooI I played hooky…just kidding. When I arrived in class, I had to talk about myself in front of the class, in French. I think I did pretty good. I was glad that 2 people in my class spoke English. One boy named Antonio and the other Vlad. I sit by Antonio. He helps me figure out where things are supposed to go and what to do. In my class there are about 20 kids. That is the whole 6th grade. They are all surprised at how tall I am. They are shrimps. Even the “biggest kid” is a whole head smaller than I am. I was glad the 1st day was only a ½ day.

Logan’s 1st week
I wanted to play hooky again the next day, but my parents drug me to school. There lunch recess is 1 ½ hours long. I love it. I made two goals playing soccer. During one assignment, I gave my teacher my paper and she showed it to the whole class. Everyone in class stared at me and I made a funny face. They all laughed. All the boys seem to like me and try to talk with me. I try to talk French back. So far Ecole est tres bien! (School is very good)

Shea’s 1st Day of School
The first day of school was fun. My Mom and Dad kissed me goodbye and my teacher was an old girl. She had glasses and wrinkles and Hayden’s color of hair. There was this girl in class who came and helped me. She was about 30 and had brown hair and brown eyes and was wearing tights with a shirt. I sat by a girl named Magaree. The next day Magaree went to a different spot and Luca came to sit by me. He kind of helps me. He mostly says no Shea, but sometimes puts his thumbs up. He doesn’t speak English. Recess is really fun.

Shea’s 1st Week of School
I met a girl who speaks English. Her name is Alexi. She is my age, but in the 5th year. She is Antonio and Raphe’s sister. On the 2nd day of school we had gym. The boys and girls started taking off their pants and shirts in class to get changed for gym. I feel uncomfortable getting changed like that. I didn’t like it at all. On the 2nd day of school I also broke my arm and am now wearing a cast. I broke it on the rope slide/swing. There was one rope hung up and I tried to grab it and then BANG! I fell down right onto my arm. The 3rd day of school I spent at the doctor and hospital with my Mom.

Hayden’s 1st Day of School
The first day of school was good, but I didn’t have a morning snack. I liked first recess. Class is not that bad with an English person inside. I sit next to Raphe. He is my friend. The school doesn’t have real parts of a playground (slide, swings, monkey bars). There is a little part of a playground. It is a rope swing/slide. I play soccer sometimes. My class is thumbs up, that means good.

Hayden’s 1st Week of School
Louie also speaks English in my class. On one day of the week I made an obstacle course. You go around tires and climb something with little sticks and try to get across the school in 10 seconds. I saw a short-cut there. On another day it was raining and I saw two long-legged spiders at recess. One time at school I spoke a little French to Raphe. On Monday is gym. I liked it because we played a game like dodge ball, but I don’t remember the name. On Friday’s gym day we played a game where someone calls your name and you have to run up and catch a ball. I think French is a little fun.

©ColleenFisher

School Days are Here at Last

This is literally our longest summer vacation.  We left school May 19th, a week early, to attend my brother's wedding in Arizona. School in Belgium doesn't start until the first of September, tomorrow.  That gives the Fisher family 16 weeks off any "normal" routine. Starting tonight, we are back on the wagon by having all three in bed by 9.

Normally I would be breathing a sigh of relief.  All three kids gone, all day.  Ahh.  Now I can work on the Minute Menu plan and get it where it needs to be to become successful.  I can do all those things that I want to do without those constant interruptions.  Tonight however those feelings are 99% non-existent.  Tonight I am filled with anxiety, brought on by my own decisions.

Tomorrow my three children will start a new school, in a new town, in a new country with a new language.  They will not be able to comprehend the majority of what most people at the school are saying.  Here's to us...hoping that we all SURVIVE and THRIVE this coming year.

©ColleenFisher

School Shopping-In French

Today the kids and I spent the greater part of our day shopping for school supplies, in the all French speaking city of Lovain-la-Neuve, 20 km south of here.  I didn't know where to buy supplies, so I asked the director of the school, and he recommended a store called Ciaco. I ignorantly thought this would be great because the signs for the supplies would match up to what I needed on my list.  I would soon find out that none of the store assistants spoke English  It would make for an interesting and slightly frustrating day.

The 3 class lists of supplies were in French, of course, so I spent a few hours translating them with the help of my crutch, Google translate.  There were items I could easily guess what they were like l'calculatrice and l'compass or whose translation was easily converted by google, like des marqueurs suligneurs <(flo)>  (highlighters-fluorescent).  Others were less comprehensible like on Shea's list- 10 chemises transparentes.  Google translated them to be 10 transparent shirts....What?  (They really are sheet protectors.) Or une latte translated to be a strip. It's tape.

The kids and I started our "treasure hunt" early so we would have energy to complete the almost impossible.  We searched for what we thought were the easy items first.  The pens they use here aren't like the pens in America, or at least the ones I have purchased before.  A person buys a pen and then extra ink to refill in the pen.  Most pencils are like mechanical pencil, which are easy enough.  On the items I got stumped on I would go wait in line to "talk" to an associate.

The first time I tried to get help, I found out that no store associate spoke Englsih and nice man behind me spoke English and helped me talk to the store associate. The rest of the time my talking consisted of me pointing at my supply sheet and them walking me to the item.  After about the fifth time I could feel their annoyance.  I once asked a boy next to me where something was by using my same pointing method.  He was Logan's age and spoke English to me.  I asked him how he knew English and he told me his mother was American. His name is James.

Later that day, and still in the same store, I would meet James' mom Susan. I asked her where something was and she helped me translate items that where still incomprehensible from Googles' translation.  We talked for awhile and exchanged phone numbers.  She said to call her whenever I needed help or if I wanted to go get a coffee.  Today I am grateful for Susan and James.

Four hours and over 300 Euro later, we FINALLY left Ciaco...totally burnt out.

©ColleenFisher

Roller Parade

On your marks...Michael and Brent

Last night we were invited to go to a Roller Parade with one of Brent's colleagues "Michael from Australia." In Summer on Friday nights in the great city of Brussels, hundreds of people get on their roller blades/skate or bikes and do a 'Tour de Brussels'.  They have a beginner course for newbies from 8-9 pm and then you have an option to continue on  until Midnight, if you dare. 

The "beginning" course isn't a cake walk.  You have to cross some areas of road with cobblestones and tracks from the train.  There is one section in particular where you cross a cobblestone/track zone at a 5-way intersection, surrounded by people dining-just waiting for someone to bite the dust. Amazingly I did not fall. Yet.

Me in Downtown Brussels

After the "intersection of death and possible ridicule and embarrassment", you climb a hill.  Should be a warning sign for the future. I thought I would take it easy down this slope, so I went back and forth, kinda like skiing.  I continued to pick up speed and totally biffed it. I was already at the back of the rollerblading section and the helpers yell something like, "Newbie Down".  the DJ truck behind me stops and the assistants helps me up and takes my hand and tells me to skate with him the rest of the way down the hill.  I take his hand and we are picking up speed, but he is totally holding me up.  Kind of an amazing feet since I ain't no petite woman.  We reach the bottom of the hill at break neck speed...and then he lets go of my hand and skate off.  HELLO!  Totally lost control, and smacked into a parked car.  Yes, the door handle of an unlucky mini-cooper has left its' mark on my leg.
A police woman skates up to me and starts talking.  I say English?  She says, "You have a break, use it."  Uh, Wow.  Thanks for the Great Advice.

After the Fall-In the tunnel of Achievemnt

We reach the end of the beginning route and it's pretty flat, so we continue down.  Brent is now next to me on every decline.  I am  preferring the flat parts and even the uphills.  We are enjoying our stroll and then we see the next danger zone...a tunnel with a mammoth-sized decline.  Crap.  Brent is next to me and I am riding the break like it's my life line.  Then Brent starts to pick up speed and to save me, he lets me go. I attempt to weave back and forth to take it slow.  Nice try.  I smack right into Brent and down we both go.  I think the adrenaline was pumping because it didn't hurt that bad.  The rest of the way down the hill I hold on to the side of the wall like a toddler.  At the end of the tunnel the same "friendly" helper asks me if I want to ride the bus...a city bus filled with the weak, tired and occasional bloody participant.  I accept.

About two blocks later the whole roller derby is on break and I get off the bus for another try.  As I am leaving, my now seemingly personal assistant suggests I start near the front of the line.  Off I go to see if I can "keep up with the crowd" by starting at the front.  I think the only thing that changed was that the bus people didn't have to stare at my slow tushy anymore..for a little while at least.

We skate for a bit more and my legs are getting pretty tired.  It's the kind of tired you get when skiing and say, "Just one more run... then you break your leg."  I decide to board the bus and tour the rest of the city in the comfort of a public bus with some of my closest, sweatiest, road-rash wearing buddies.  Brent and Michael join me.  We ride the bus for the next 1+ hours.

It was a really fun night.  I was amazed at how many skaters were there.  The ranged from young children to senior citizens, trick jumpers to the ones whose only trick was trying to not to kiss the road.  (I obviously am in the latter group.  The road and I are still on speaking terms).  Next time, I am taking a bike and wearing a helmet.  Eat my rubber you asphalt!

The mini-cooper mark: a week later.

©ColleenFisher