One of my biggest hesitations in ripping off the bottle bandaid with Bennett is traveling. I’ve asked the Facebook masses how to take away his beloved “bot” and the suggestions were pretty good, but I just can’t pull the trigger. The “bot” is one of the only things that makes traveling with Bennett possible.

While I’m not entirely sure that his travel personality is learned behavior versus his innate crankiness, I suspect it is. With the exception of a few major “I’m-not-getting-back-in-the-car-EVER” freakouts from Natalie (at age 2!) during the longest 3 day, 1,000 mile trip from Virginia to the tip of Michigan, the other 3 are pretty good travelers. In my mind it’s because they have always traveled. We moved to Nevada when the girls were 2 and 1 and ended up about 45 miles from civilization (my job and their daycare). So at least 5 days a week, we drove roughly two hours a day. Like little fish growing into their tank, the older they got, the longer the drives became (Reno to San Fran and Monterey, Reno to LA, Reno to San Diego, Nashville to Jacksonville, Jacksonville to Norfolk – All with tons of fun sightseeing stops). They easily tolerate a solid 12 hour travel day with no problems (More than that I’m not so sure. For each cross country move, I’ve spared them the 4 days of driving and flown them to stay with the grandparents). So out of necessity, I really do think they’ve gotten used to the travel.

Back to Bennett, from 2 months to 9 months, he stayed with a lovely family 2 days a week while I worked. It was a 20-30 min drive each way, but he was little so  slept most of the way. By the time he was 10 months, we moved again and I immediately started working full time. Daycares were full so I relied on babysitters…babysitters that came to my house. So basically, he never went  anywhere! Not only did he miss out on leaving the house, he was never forced to learn how to engage in social situations (sitting quietly with others in circle time, book time, or for meals) -bad parenting!

Fast forward to our European expedition – we didn’t exactly ease into it. It started with two 13 hour travel days about a week apart. Then, a 14 day transatlantic cruise with multiple stops and modes of transportation. Then, a 3 hour car ride to London. Then a 3 hour train ride to Brussels. From the cruise on, most of our adventures included modes of transportation that did NOT include any sort of straps to keep him still. If a screaming toddler strapped in a car seat isn’t bad enough, a screaming, flailing loose toddler in a taxi/bus/train is WAY worse…and has scores of other (super irritated) passengers. This is when we pray he wants to sleep…except it never happens. So for now, we’ve resigned to only going places that are drivable (to save us embarrassment in public).

He willingly gets in the car, but instantly screams for his bottle (learned behavior). He tolerates most of a drive from that point, if we try to occupy him with food (a hungry baby is a cranky baby) AND whatever we do, we don’t stop and get out  anywhere other than our actual destination. Momentary stops to pee, eat, change diapers are the end of the world. Heaven forbid we stop to see mountains, waterfalls, fun statues on the way. That’s when this 👇🏻 happens.

We’ve been here about 3 months and have continued to travel because we love it (though the constant stress of B is wearing on me making me consider becoming a hermit). I hope he eventually grows out of this phase because I’d like to actually enjoy some these places – like enjoy with interested children who love good food and want to learn and see and taste! (The beer helps!). But if that doesn’t happen, we’ll just visit these places anyway (drink a beer) and try to bide the time with snacks and milk (hopefully in a sippy cup soon) and souvenirs (junk) for the older kids.

If I were to give advice to any other European travelers with toddlers: don’t take my advice! Kidding, sort of. If a movie and snacks and milk and souvenirs keep them sort of happy, do it! Luckily (like my last post), I never said “I’d never let them watch movies in the car/eat snacks/drink milk” (Heck, I even specifically bought a new car with DVD players TWICE). It’ll just look like this 👇🏻 (Third time in 3 months that I’ve cleaned it).

This weekend’s travels: back to Paris, where last time this was the mood of the day 👇🏻. (But, as much as I like to pretend he’s always bad, he’s really not. He’s a sweet little man that I waited years for!)

“Never say never”. How cliché 😂. I’m there now, eating some of my own words for breakfast this morning as I debated what to wear and whether makeup was necessary. So I’ve listed my ‘nevers’ that I lost the battles on and the ‘nevers’ I’ll hold onto forever.

(P.S. In no way is this a judgement on anyone else. I know sometimes people read random articles/blogs and think “but I wear yoga pants and don’t shower! She’s judging me!” I’m not. I swear. I can’t see you (because I never leave the house) and I don’t care what you wear. I am personally extremely uncomfortable in yoga pants/pajamas and paralyzingly uncomfortable without a shower. I’m just trying to own my own feelings on myself.)

Things I said ‘never’ to at any point in my pre-parenting to parenting life😬

I’ll never:

• Let my kids wear character shirts – gave up in 2008, I mean, I just love Disney too much and so do the kids
• Crocs? Gave in to that in 2009. They’re just so easy for the kids
• Have bare toenails (no polish) – gave that up in 2011
• Let the kids dress themselves, no matter how sloppy and mismatched – goodbye control, 2016. At some point, it’s just not worth the battle and they have to learn to be their own people, even if that means going without a beautiful hairbow

The rest of the nevers I’ve lost the battle to are happening now, 2017…

• Dress down/wear workout clothes – well, this is new to me. I’m not exactly in yoga pants, but I’m stuck in an awful rut of the same 4 pairs of linen drawstring shorts and plain t-shirts (not regular t-shirts because those are the complete opposite of attractive on me, just all the wrong fits…but like the women’s plain, slightly fitted v neck shirts from Target and Old Navy). The last 2 years have been wardrobe altering going from specific work shirts then back to professional dress and now to this Libby mom uniform of t-shirts? I don’t even recognize myself
• Go without mascara – gasp! I don’t really wear any makeup except for mascara and I generally ❤️ It. I even got this awesome new mascara that makes my lashes look amazing, but it’s wickedly waterproof. It takes minutes to get off, like 4 minutes, which feels like an eternity when trying to remove eye makeup! I mean, I don’t go anywhere and I put it on at noon and take it off at 8 and it just seems unnecessary (what?!? Did I say that???)
• Cook every night – desperate times call for desperate measures
• Let my living room become overrun with toys because toys will ALWAYS stay in the kids’ rooms or play room – sigh. Now that I’m home ALL the time, the toys just do NOT stay where the belong. It’s that saying, “excuse our mess, but we live here”. I can’t watch B 100% of the time and if he’s in his room, I’m more uncomfortable, so his toys start creeping. Then the older kids creep more and more and more and more…then by the end of the morning, it’s like a toy store + craft store + office supply store blew up in my downstairs
• Totally plan my days around my kids naps – they’ll adjust. And, to be honest, my kids have adjusted to a life of travel and go, go, go. BUT…child, sweet child #4 is a sleeper. He likes a good solid 15 hours a day of sleep, probably because he is a whirlwind sandstorm maniac the rest of the day. And, he’s so hard to deal with normally, so when he doesn’t have every minute of that 15 hours of sleep, we feel it. And, it gives me time to deeply sigh and relax for a few. So…here I am, rushing home midday for the perfect nap, yelling and screaming and tickling him in the car to keep him awake (at least on weekdays 👌🏻😬)
• Start a parenting blog (bahahaha, I didn’t actually say this)

Things I will continue to strongly say ‘never’ to

I’ll never:

• Go without a shower. Ever. Heck, somedays I take two. And with showering comes blow-drying my hair. I am NOT HUMAN and can not act acceptably when my hair is not blow dryed.
• Own a mini-van – it’s just not happening.
• Not make my bed. Just my bed. The kids beds are another story.
• Be ok with the mess. I’ve tried not-caring, but I do care. It makes me anxious and angry, and I’m sure no matter how many times I’m going to say “screw it, I’m just going to leave it’,” I won’t ever be ok with it. And, I think that’s actually ok 👌🏻.

First, I know blogs about food and drinks are awkward, especially when they’re in another country and you can’t just go out and try all my awesome recs…so, just remember what sounds good for your future visit 😬.

Second, I’ve titled this post “Belgian Beer: Part 1” because undoubtedly there will need to be a follow up to this soon.

So, I went to the doctor yesterday to “establish” myself as a patient since I have never been seen at a military treatment facility before. Like all doctor’s offices, the nurse asked me “do you drink alcohol?” and “how often do you drink? daily/weekly/monthly?”. My usual response to this is “once a week or so”. But after I left, I thought about it and realized, I’m in Belgium, beer capital of the world, and I’m drinking much more than that 😳…and when I went to look for pictures, I have more than enough to prove it.

So, we’ve been here 3 months and I’ve had plenty of opportunities to test the waters of Belgian beers. Justin has books on books on books about Belgian beers and has probably already tried every one and can describe each in detail.  But…this is not about him, it is about me. I’m a beer amateur, and I’ve only barely gotten my feet wet.

In my mind, I like blond beer. I think its subconscious (or totally a conscious effort) since I’m a blondie. I order one and then gasp in disgust. Yuck. These two below sounded good – extra blond? Well obviously! And then a cool nun, Helkaise, on a Belgian blond? MUST be for me! GROSS! I shudder thinking back to that first and only sip.

(Vedett Extra blond beer not enjoyed 😂 In Ghent, Belgium)

(Helkaise, blond beer from Hôpital notre-dame à la rose, Lessines, Belgium)

I think I have gone in with an open mind. I mean, fresh off the boat, our amazing host family treated us to some fabulous beers at their house. Not sure if I was just delirious or dehydrated from traveling, but they were great. Fast forward a few days or weeks and I tried some of the same type – nope, not for me.

But what is “Belgian beer”? I guess there are 3 main types – pale lager, lambics, and Flemish Red. I believe the pale lagers were NOT my type.

Lambics – now these AND the Flemish Reds (slurp, slurp) are my favorite. Wikipedia describes Lambics as follows: “Unlike most beers, which are fermented with carefully cultivated strains of brewer’s yeast, lambic is fermented spontaneously by being exposed to wild yeasts and bacteria native to the Zenne valley in which Brussels lies. This process gives the beer its distinctive flavour: dry, vinous, and cidery, usually with a sour aftertaste.”

The next Belgian specialty is the Flemish/Flanders (northern area of Belgium) red ale, which Wikipedia describes as follows: “Flanders red ales have a strong fruit flavour similar to the aroma, but more intense. Plum, prune, raisin and raspberry are the most common flavours, followed by orange and some spiciness. The sour or acidic taste can range from moderate to strong. There is no hop bitterness, but tannins are common. Consequently, Flanders red ales are often described as the most wine-like of all beers.

So maybe those describe me better than ‘blonde’? I mean, dry and sour? Perfect!

(Leffe Flemish red enjoyed in beautiful Dinant, Belgium, with The Collegiate Church of Our Lady (Collegiale Notre-Dame) In the background)

(Ginette, just an organic Belgian fruit beer enjoyed in Waterloo, Belgium)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(This was a red-brown beer at Brewery Bourgogne des Flandres, Bruges, Belgium. Apparently they blend old beer with young beer to get the ‘perfect’ balance. Pretty sure this one was decent 👌🏻)

(Villers La ville Abbaye, Belgium – the monks brew 4 types at their microbreweries in the monastery, but of course I didn’t write down what type this was, but it was more pale ale-ish)

So what have I learned so far? No blonds for this blonde! And that sour, fruity beers are (so far) the ones for me (which I’m sure means I should not be recommending beers to people 😂).

But the best part about ALL of these beers? The amazing backdrops with with which I get to enjoy (or not enjoy) them.

(Brewery Bourgogne des Flandres, Bruges, Belgium)

(The view from Panorama restaurant, Namur, Belgium at the top of the citadel.  I don’t have a picture of my beer, but it was a fruit beer and delish. Below is Justin’s with the incredible view!)

 

I’m sure in the not-so-distant future a blog post will be coming titled “Lost in Translation” as I continue to stumble through life in a foreign country.

But one thing I can assure is NOT lost in translation is the WAFFLES – ‘gaufrés’ in French, ‘wafel’ in Dutch (that one is pretty easy to pick up on 😬). One of the first words I learned, crucial really.

While I have an unusual talent to eat endless amounts of candy and chocolate on any given day (mad skills!), I’ve never been a huge pancake or waffle fan. I don’t like syrup very much; it’s just too sticky, the smell never goes away, and it’s one of the few sweet things that just doesn’t butter my bread.

But these Belgian waffles? Belgian waffles that are actually made here, not just some silly pretend version concocted in the United States with the name “Belgian” in front of it – these are what dreams are made of.

Pretty much everywhere has them – the coffee shop on base, the zoo, the mall, ice cream restaurants.  Some are a tad better, but overall I find they’re all delish and worthy of my time. In fact, if I pass a stand I almost always end up with one (which is not helping me on my quest to clean up my diet 😂, though I did make it ONE WHOLE DAY without any candy or waffles last week).

(It is also important to note, that the ones sent from heaven (personal opinion) are a certain ‘type’ – the Liege gaufré. The other type is the Bruxelles (Brussels) gaufré (both are named for their respective cities). The Bruxelles are good, but more like the type Americans would try to pass off – square and light and fluffy – see bottom for picture) .

But the Liege gaufré – heaven. It is very dense and much thicker with sugar inside. The restaurants/stands/stores that sell these also usually have a seemingly endless amount of syrups and toppings to choose from – spéculoos, chocolate, white chocolate, M&Ms, coconut, nuts, sprinkles – you name it, they probably have it. We’ve tried a few different topping combinations, but I must say that I am a purest. I like them just the way they are (sometimes the toppings are just TOO much even for someone with a socially unacceptable diet that consists of mainly just sugar).

So…anyone ready to visit??? They even have waffles on a stick!

This guy 👇🏻 – he’s a purest, too, but not by choice. For comparison, below is Meredith with a Bruxelles gaufré.

One of my biggest culture shocks is how much I miss (*need*) convenience. Very little is “convenient” here.

– Fast food is not a “thing” (we’re not in a major city, in fact, I live with cows and sheep) and restaurants are more casual and “relaxing”, meaning they take their time (but no one wants to relax at a restaurant with Bennett – not me, not Justin and DEFINITELY not fellow diners actually trying to enjoy a meal)

– Quick coffee shops do not exist (if you want one, you usually have to drink it there, and it usually isn’t traditional drip coffee, it’s a small espresso. If it is drip coffee, you’re unlikely to find any cream)

– Central heat and air is not standard, so you open your windows that don’t have screens to help ventilate, which invites the bugs (WHY FLIES????)…again, living with the farm animals doesn’t help the bug situation

– European washers and dryers are inefficient at best, though most people seem to use clothes’ lines vs a dryer, and we are fortunate to have the army supply us with American models (though my “speed queen” brand dryer takes roughly 100 min to thoroughly dry one load – speedy 😂)

– The roads are bumpy and windy and often only wide enough for one car – one regular car, and we’ve got a tank! (Anyone from MJ, imagine old Lebanon dirt road, but a little narrower, a lot more potholes, and a 45 mph speed limit…and aggressive drivers, plus the whole yield to the right thing)

– Stores close early, which is strange in the summer when it stays light until 10-11 pm, and most retail-type stores aren’t open on Sunday (my one usual “free” day)

– And the internet is not nearly as helpful here when searching for times/days/info (lots of businesses don’t have good websites, yelp isn’t popular to guide us to appropriate restaurants for children, etc)

I’m not complaining, though, I swear. It’s just culture shock. I’m learning. I’m taking it in. I’m observing. I’m adjusting. I’m hoping to feel more organic in this place soon. I’m sure by the time we’re ready to go, I’ll be less in a “first world problems” kind of situation (and my almost 2 year old will be older, maybe even in school, so inconvenience likely won’t be as brutal), but for now, it’s hard to NOT notice the differences.

But today, I’m SUPER thankful for the McDonald’s in Soignies (10 miles away, 25 minute drive 😬). It JUST started serving breakfast, is clean, has touch screen ordering to help those of us who don’t speak french (me!), and has a play area. I was able to eat a sandwich AND talk to my friends before they head back to the U.S.  (but to be fair, it did take about 10-15 min for the food to be prepared, but I didn’t mind – I’m working on patience, and when it is combined with a favorable environment, I’m able to reign in my impatience 👍🏻😬). I’m sure my American friends and family that visit won’t be nearly as excited as I was, but it gave me an hour of convenience! Maybe in a few months I won’t even need McDonald’s to help me feel normal, but today, I thank you, McDonald’s!

And thanks to my Dye friends for coming to visit AND enduring Mickey D’s with us! (So anyone planning to visit, don’t be surprised when I take you out for a quaint, local meal at the Golden Arches 😂).

(and P.S. I’m very proud to be a stereotypical American. USA! 🇺🇸)

One of the first things people mention about driving here in Belgium is to note that this sign means yield/priority to the right. It’s a pretty frustrating sign because if you’re not on a main road, there is one of these awesome signs every 10 feet. The best part about it, though, is that you don’t know if someone is coming until you’re halfway through the intersection since the buildings are ON the road.  Even better, is that drivers coming from that direction pay little attention and often come barreling out.

This sign is the perfect metaphor for military life. You think everything is on track, then out of nowhere comes a “yield to the right” barreling at you.

After years of struggling through the usual deployments, time-sucking orders, a million TDYs (temporary duty), work-ups, more deployments, we are finally rewarded with the most coveted of military orders – Europe! Hallelujah!

We’ve been rewarded for all the struggles with the chance to see AH-MAZING history – 1000 year old churches, citadels, hospitals, incredible views, beautiful scenery – and to try completely new palates of food – beers! Cheeses! Wines! Chocolates! Waffles! Every weekend we have the opportunity to see and taste more culture.

If only it were that easy of a transition…

As it turns out, this transition has been more of a “yield to the right” for me. I’m here. I’m in it – halfway through the instersection of awesome! – but totally blindsided by complete 180 my life has taken.

“But this is what you’ve always wanted!” True story (sort of). I’ve always wanted to be home with my kids, to not miss the milestones, the school functions, the awards ceremonies, the play dates, the chance to be more social.  We, as a family, have also always wanted the chance, really the opportunity of a lifetime, to live in Europe. So what is my problem???

My two “wants” have collided and here I am – struggling. I’ve gone from the somewhat fiercely independent working mom, who made life happen through deployments and many, many, many TDYs (and even a birth!) alone (well, I had plenty of family and friend help – thanks guys!), and from the “professional” pharmacist who thrived on making changes and trying to make everywhere I worked better, and from my role as the “ordering out/getting fast food/having food delivered” mom, to “just” a mom. “Just” a mom who 1. lives in a foreign country 2. doesn’t speak the language (deer in headlights when someone talks AT me), 3. Has to grocery shop 3 times a week with any various number of uncooperative children (because the stores have limited hours that don’t work with Justin’s schedule) 4. has started to HAVE to cook EVERY meal because there is no ordering out, there are no fast food restaurants (McDonalds 30 min away but can’t go through drive thru because I don’t speak french!), and there is no home delivery. Also, any who knows me knows I hate to cook. I hate the mess, I hate the stress, I hate the clean up. Thankfully though, I don’t think I totally suck (kids don’t complain much – winning!) Also, I still live for Amazon and will order whatever I can through them, but it takes a little bit longer, and I have to drive to the post office to pick packages up and am required to bring the children in, and the hours are 1230-530 (thumbs down).

And to top all of that off, my dogs. I LEFT MY DOGS! I love them. They are dirty, stinky, annoying, but I love them. I miss them. They’ve seen me through all of the births (Ike was sitting with me for my first pregnancy test!), all of the deployments, all of the TDYs, two cross country moves, and 5 houses. They’re just the icing on the cake of what I didn’t expect to be so hard. I also hope Katie doesn’t hate me forever.

So here I am – first world problems. My goals for our time here are to put on my big girl panties and truly LIVE this awesome opportunity! and to enjoy the opportunity to stay home with my kids, see every single moment (because hey, I haven’t been alone in 4 months) and to LOVE all new changes. 3 months down, 33 to go!

(Maybe I’m just having Starbucks withdrawals?)