It's so cold that the snow won't melt. It lies like white ribbons of piped icing across the rooftops. Yesterday, I stood outside in the cold, staring at snow ribbons, waiting for the kids to come home on the bus. I waited, and waited, possibly said a bad word, and waited some more. They finally pulled up some twenty minutes later. I pasted a smile on my face so as not to look annoyed at the bus driver. Rumor has it that they were late a few days ago because one kid, a girl with an easy smile and my big brown eyes, was screaming too loud. That day the driver stopped right smack in the middle of the road until there was quiet, probably thinking that someone should talk to that kid's mother. It's at times like these that I am thankful for the language barrier.


Anyhow, the kids weren't off the bus thirty seconds before I got the full story of this afternoon's adventure. Apparently, the door to the bus is broken (think less bus and more large van with a sliding door). The driver was ascending a hill when the door spontaneously flung itself open and then slammed shut, repeatedly. If the driver doesn't want screaming kids on board, then perhaps she should reconsider a van whose gaping wide door might give a six year old a near death experience. She pulled over and attempted to shut it, and that dang door would not shut. Hence, the twenty minutes I spent rooftop gazing.

I haven't laughed that hard in months. I had to stop to catch my breath on the walk up the hill to our house. I laughed, they laughed, and we walked bent over at the belly from the sheer joy of it. There's nothing like laughter to knit the things that have fallen apart back together again. Now, if only someone could work that kind of magic on the bus.

My youngest looks forward to Library every Monday afternoon. She brings home two books, and only two, because there is a librarian-imposed limit. I don’t understand this, as there seems to be nothing congruous about books and limits, so we supplement with our own. She loves to hear me read although she’s perfectly capable of it herself, and so we alternate paragraphs or pages. We have one rule. I am never allowed to read words written in all CAPITAL LETTERS. Capital letters are only meant for six-year olds looking for a parent-approved reason to shout.

My poor little blog has suffered from a lack of attention this summer. I can assure you my children haven't, but the blog certainly has. School is back in full swing this week, leaving me a bit of a mess. The first day of school is a mixed bag of emotion, and you never know which one you will reach in and pull out. It can range from a slight sense of euphoria, 'Hey look, there's no one here to bicker and sass me and leave out every toy in the house' to a mild sense of panic 'Hey look, there's no one here to bicker and sass me...'



You understand, I know you do. Being a mama is like wearing your heart forever on the outside, laid bare ready to soak up every bit of pain, pleasure, failure, and joy that life spills out. It's a holy calling, this mothering.


But, it's hard to mother the absent, and so I act a little crazy and feel a little teary and wonder what in the world I will do with all my free time. Then I remember the ironing, the groceries, the unmade beds and my heart finds a way to mother them even here, in the quiet hours.

Kimberly

I have a child who likes to dot the letter 'i' with a heart, and then transform the heart into a bat with wings.  Said child also draws pictures with such self-revelatory titles as "Me, fighting with my brother and eating grapes", although I have it on good authority she doesn't like grapes.  She does like to sing in the bathtub, and was recently overheard belting out 'If you wanna be my lov-ah'.

Life is clickety clacking along at a steady pace here.  We are now three weeks into the new school year and five months into our Swiss adventure.  Apparently time flies when you're busy trying to understand what the heck is going on around you, and spending the better part of your time in the ridiculously overpriced grocery store.  I may have mentioned that one or twenty times.

It snowed on the mountains yesterday, and although it's still warm here near the lake, talk has turned to skiing and lessons and other ways to spend ungodly sums of money this winter.  I'd like to make it to autumn before we start talking snow, people.  I'd be quite happy to burrow down under a blanket near the fire and stay there until April, but in an effort to embrace the full experience I will be strapping on my snowboard and heading for the Alps.  Sometime in February.  Maybe.



We've packed Rachel up for her first three day school trip to Heidiland (yes, there is such a place), where her days will be filled with hiking, climbing and a viewing of the movie Heidi.  Sweet, no?  Later in the year both she and Ethan will have week long skiing trips with their respective schools, and then another week long trip to England.  I'm so pleased that if nothing else, my kids will walk away from this experience having really tasted a bit of the world.  The flaw in this plan is that if they've inherited any of their Mama's wanderlust, it will come back to bite me when they're grown.  When I play the movie in my mind, I imagine them far flung across the globe as adults, to the soundtrack of weeping and gnashing of teeth.  And that's just their father;)

Kimberly

I've had quite a few requests for photos of our new home and the surrounding area.  I'm afraid it's been quite cloudy and hazy here, and I've been waiting for a clear day to grab the camera and shoot.  At the moment, I only have access to my laptop with limited photo cropping/posting capabilities.   This is one from last week, taken from the back yard.  The set of sliding glass doors is one of my favorite features of our place.  Remind me I said that when I'm windex-ing my life away.




I'm anxiously waiting for the arrival of our things.  Rumor has it that the air shipment will arrive sometime next week.  We only have what we were able to pack in our suitcases, which means that there is a serious shortage of cute clothing and the laundry situation is dire after about three days.

Doing laundry here is, simply put, a huge pain in the butt.  It was something I remember well from our years in London, mainly because it resulted in me wanting to pull my hair out regularly.  One load, from start to finish, takes about three hours.  Don't even get me started on the load size capabilities, or non-capabilities as I like to call it.

On the school front, Rachel and Ethan are settling in easily.  I think there is a certain kindness amongst kids who at one point or another were the new kid with a funny accent.  There is a high yearly turnover rate in the expat community, so students are always coming or going. In their (very descriptive) words, school is "fun", and German is "boring".  I'm guessing German won't be so "boring" when I'm bribing them with candy to translate for me at the grocery store.

Aaaahhh, the grocery store.  That deserves a post all it's own.  I suppose life can't be all Alps and chocolate.

Kimberly

And they're off....

Yesterday Sophie and I were waiting in the car line at school to pick up the big kids. The car line is monitored by our school crossing guard, who is best described as a nice older woman with Nazi-like tendencies. Through the open car windows, she asked us to move forward a bit, to which I answered yes. Sophie, on the other hand, had this to say (very loudly):

Sophie: "Mommy, is that a lady or a man?"

Me (hissing and speaking apparently too quietly): "Shhh! Why do you keep asking me that? You know she's a lady. Her name is Anne and she's lovely."

Sophie: "You're right mom, she IS ugly"

Me (loudly this time): "No, no I said LOVELY not UGLY"

Sophie: "Well she is ugly"

Oh dear. So much for trying to be subtle.

Kimberly

Last week the kids celebrated 100 days of school. I have no idea why they do this, but I'm always up for a class party. Anyhow, Ethan was given a packet of papers to complete centered on the theme of "100". I thought it would bring a bit of smile to you all on an otherwise dreary, cold February day.

1. During our first 100 days, I really liked to... eat candy.
2. but I would really like to forget about.... eating healthy
3. I'd really like to have 100....Dollars
4. If I had $100 I would....spend it all on gum or cucumbers.

So, let me get this straight. I have a sugar crazed, money hungry six year old who may or may not like to eat cucumbers, seeing as they are healthy. And we know how he feels about eating healthy. Now, for the piece de resistance:

5. Draw what you look like when you are 100 years old....
(I kid you not) He drew a picture of a gravestone with "Ethan Coyle" scrawled across it.

I have nothing to add to that.

Kimberly

Last week Sophie and I took a class trip to a local farm for a hayride and pumpkin picking. This was followed by a hay maze (I think I've already made my feelings about mazes clear here). This maze, however, was only shoulder height on me, so I felt comfortable giving it a try. Sophie thought it was hilarious to hide from me and refuse to answer when I called her name. This was reminiscent of every shopping trip I've ever taken her on. Please note the pumpkin hair clip. She will thank me for being appropriately themed when she's older, I'm sure of it.












Kimberly

We are finally settling in to the new school year. Our afternoons are filled with backpacks and notebooks, and the endless variety of activities that we have signed up for this fall.

Sophie has begun three full days a week at preschool, which has suddenly given me a fair bit of time on my hands. I think I might be having a mid life crisis, except that I'm much too young for that! Trying to figure out how to spend my days productively without the kids around is going to be an interesting endeavor. There's only so much housework one can do before one begins to feel like the maid and not the lady of the house:) I would love to spend the days reading and shopping, but alas, the Lord of the manor doesn't agree. Lady of leisure is apparently not a title I am going to hold anytime soon. (Can you tell I've been reading a novel set in Regency England?)

So, I am off to plant a shrub. Then pick up his lordship's medicine. Then his offspring. Lady of leisure indeed!

Kimberly

One of the last projects Rachel had for school this year was to write a biography for one of her "heroes". She and her classmates stood in the hall outside of their classroom and presented their hero to each of the parents. As you can see, Rachel chose Anne Frank. (One of my heroes as well).



We actually had the opportunity to visit the Frank's hiding place when we visited Amsterdam a few years ago. It had existed in my imagination since I was a child, but the reality of it was beyond anything I have ever experienced. When you physically see the evidence of what was lost, it is heartbreaking. We saw Anne's diary, and climbed behind the bookcase and up the stairs into the secret annex. I wish Rachel had been old enough to remember it because it made an unforgettable impression on me.





I was surprised by so many of the choices. We had an Amelia Earhart, George Patton, and Kristi Yamaguchi just to name a few. I loved the reasons behind the kids choices. Some of them were so passionate about their hero! Such a clever idea and a testament to what a great teacher Rachel had this year. Great job Rach!

Kimberly

I helped make the visors the day before the play.  That's the extent of my craftiness lately.  I can't seem to find the time or the space to make anything.  I'm hoping to do something sweet for Sophie's birthday next month.