We Love Wanda

I have posted before about Maisy's wonderful school and teacher, Wanda. Each week I continue to be impressed by the activities she plans for the children. A few weeks ago the theme was community helpers. She turned the benches and chairs into a fire engine and the school instantly became a firehouse filled with firefighters. The kids had a great time. Wanda is in the red helmet.

Maisy receiving a call from command central with the location of the fire. She promptly reported to her team where the fire was located (in the kitchen...in the bathroom, etc.) and everyone piled out of the fireengine and ran to the location to battle the fire with their firehoses.

What a brilliant idea. Wanda cut up a garden hose to make little fire hoses for the students.

In this photo Sophie is relishing the fact that all the kids were off fighting a fire and she was left alone to sit in the coveted driver's seat.

Uh oh...they're coming back!

Some of these photos are out of focus because my camera was on the wrong setting. Sorry!

Grocery Shopping

When you have children, everyday tasks can be challenging. When we lived in DC I dreaded my weekly trip to the grocery store. Loading Maisy into the car, driving to the nearest supermarket, putting her into the shopping cart, doing my shopping, returning home, praying that the parking spot in front of our house was vacant and unloading Maisy and all the groceries was an energy draining task.

I thought grocery shopping with one kid was tough...until I had my second baby. It took welcoming a second child into our family for me to realize that grocery shopping with one child wasn't that tough. But with two kids I felt justified in claiming the weekly shopping trip was an overwhelming task. And then I moved to Amsterdam, and frankly driving my car to the supermarket once a week with two girls in tow didn't sound so bad to me anymore!

My weekly trip to the supermarket became bi-or tri-weekly trips to the local grocery markets. Notice the word super was omitted. That's because the IGA in wolfeboro is bigger than our neighborhood grocery markets. My mode of transportation is a bike, which means that I have to pile all the groceries I buy into the two saddle bags strapped to the rear of my bike. If I buy too much, then I can't carry it all home. So we make multiple trips to the store each week. I actually find that I throw out less food because I only buy what we need for the next few days. Still, driving a car to the supermarket sounds like such a luxury to me now. All that wonderful space, and not to mentioned the protection from the elements. If it rains, we get wet. If it is cold, we get cold. And if it is windy, I have to peddle harder to get home!

There is no comparison. Grocery shopping in Amsterdam is more difficult, but for some reason I don't really mind. Maybe it's because in the US I expected life to be convenient, but very few tasks in Amsterdam are convenient - by US standards. When you replace a car with a bike you have to change your mindset, otherwise you would go crazy! The main grocery market has regular shopping carts that I can put the girls in and conveniently navigate the aisles. But more often than not, I shop at the local organic markets which don't have shopping carts. So every trip to the store is an adventure waiting to happen.

I took a few photos of the girls and I shopping at the Markt store which is about a ten minute bike ride from our house. The Markt is similar to Trader Joes. The girls always insist on pulling the shopping baskets, so I make sure that we are never in a rush to get anywhere.

I try to put the light groceries into Sophie's cart, but she insists that I put something into her basket each time I put an item into Maisy's basket so inevitably she gets loaded down with milk, cheese and yoghurt and struggles to pull the heavy load.

Sophie thinks that grocery shopping is about putting interesting and colorful food items into her basket. On more than one occassion I have discovered unwanted food items in her basket at the check out counter.

Notice the narrow passageway that Sophie is about to pass through in the photo below. She frequently gets her basket caught up on the corners of displays, which slows our progress immensly. But she doesn't like assistance and so far we haven't caused any food to tumble from the shelves.

Thank goodness our neighborhood Naturewinkle (organic store) has two mini shopping carts, otherwise Sophie would throw a fit if she didn't get to push her own cart.

Grocery shopping isn't an activity that typically requires a helmet for safety. I was just being lazy and didn't feel like unbuckling her helmet. Maisy took her own helmet off.

The Royal Riding Stables

Last spring the girls and I discovered the Old Royal Riding Stables in our neighborhood. We must have ridden our bikes by it 100 times without realizing that a beautiful stable and horses existed behind the nondescript exterior. The stables are no longer affiliated with the Dutch Royal family, but their ornate walls and cobblestone floors remain as a reminder of its origins. The stables are open to the public and on the second floor there is a cafe with a balcony overlooking the indoor arena where you can sit and enjoy a light meal or drinks while watching the lessons below.

It wasn't long after Maisy was born that I discovered she had the horse gene - passed down from grandma Cindy. Maisy loves all animals but she is especially crazy about horses. A few times each month I take the girls to the stables in the afternoon to watch the pony lessons. On any given afternoon you can find school aged children taking riding lessons. We order toasty sandwiches and apple juice and sit on the balcony with all the parents to watch the riding lessons.
This activity usually keeps the girls attention for about 30 minutes, just long enough for them to finish their sandwiches. When they start to get restless we head downstairs to the stables to visit the ponies in their stalls.

Narrow Stairs and Big Windows

Amsterdam is famous for its narrow staircases and large windows. The narrow staircases serve one purpose - to save space in these tiny row houses. The large windows have two functions - they allow maximum light into the houses (light is a sought after commodity in the land of rain) and they provide an entry point for furniture. (because nothing fits up the narrow staircases)

When we moved into our current apartment last June we ordered a new couch. I am not a fan of Ikea couches and Ikea was our only option if we wanted instant gratification. So I accepted the fact that I would have to wait 12 weeks for our new couch to arrive. September came and went. The furniture store delayed delivery six weeks but gave us no reason. Apparently this is a common occurrence here because when I called to complain the sales person asked if we had a late delivery penalty in our purchase contract. Since we didn't they would only take 75 euro off the purchase price. November came and went with no couch. During my second conversation with the salesperson I was told that the furniture factory in Poland had gone out of business and that the company was in the process of finding a new one to complete its orders. They expected my couch to be ready sometime in January, but would give no guarantees. ugh.

Well, January arrived and so did our new couch! These are some fun photos of the delivery. The girls thoroughly enjoyed the *EVENT* and we are now all enjoying our new couch.

The lift that was assembled to bring the furniture up and down. I asked the delivery guys what they use for the fifth and sixth floor apartments and he told me they simply add more sections to the lift's ladder!

This is a photo of our OLD couch (we rented our apartment furnished) being brought out of the living room. Oddly the 70s blue velor pimp fabric grew on me over the six months that we waited for our new couch to arrive.

The girls watching the activity from across the street - safely away from levetating furniture!

Jumping for joy at the arrival of our new couch!

Maisy escorting Sophie back across the street after checking both ways for cars and bikes.

The girls inspecting an abandoned christmas tree waiting for the trash collectors.

Hanz Brinker Returns

Well, after telling countless friends and family back in the states that the canals in Holland don't freeze anymore, they froze this January for the first time in twelve years! And of course my skates were sitting on the basement shelf at my parents' house in NH. But that didn't stop us from joining the masses for a quick shuffle across one of the frozen ponds at the Vondel Park.

All the park birds gathered in this small section of the pond and seemed to generate enough movement to keep the water from freezing.

I was surprised to see that the Dutch still use speed skates. You don't see that back home. But I live in the land of Hanz Brinker, so I should have known. The father of Maisy's classmate was telling me that speed skates are the only skate worth using! So maybe before spring arrives I will venture out to the speed speed skating arena and give it a try.

Next time ice forms on the canals I am heading to the countryside. Apparently you can skate for 20 miles, and people set up hot chocolate, coffee and water breaks along the way. How beautiful. But given that my only mode of transportation is a bike...I won't be too disappointed if the weather stays above freezing here!

Hundreds of thousands of skaters, their cheeks as red as apples in the freezing temperatures, took to the ice, and hospital wards were filled with dozens of people with fractured arms, sprained ankles and broken legs.

Train engineers were ordered to go slowly to avoid hitting skaters who clambered across railway tracks to get from one frozen canal to another. Even the minister of defense, an avid skater, fell and broke his wrist. His ministry announced that the national defense remained in safe hands, even if one of them was in a cast. Read the full account on the internet:

Maisy wanted to ride her bike across the ice but I convinced her to keep her wheels on land.

Sophie and Joel enjoying the sunshine.

Our Flight Home

Maisy and Sophie enjoying their pre-flight meal at the airport.

We always take the latest flight home to Amsterdam in the hopes that the girls will sleep most of the trip.
Most of my friends here in Amsterdam only return to the states once a year. I always felt badly for them, but when I boarded the plane with two girls and no spouse to help I saw the logic in their decision! This wasn't the easiest return trip, but it wasn't the worst either. It took the girls longer than I had hoped to fall asleep - about two hours. But they were asleep by the time the movie began, and I was able to read my People magazine so I shouldn't complain.

I've never been one to sleep on airplanes, but when I travel with the girls sleep is definitely out of the question. I can never get comfortable because I am wedged between Sophie's oversized car seat and Maisy's sprawling body (sleeping.) By the end of this flight my lower back was aching and sciatic referal pain had migrated down my left leg.

I didn't take any photos during the flight, but I did snap this one of our luggage piled on the carts. Sophie is riding on my back. We did have one miracle this trip and it was that our luggage came out first. Literally, all six pieces came out one right after the other. What are the odds?

Oh and look closely at the short carts. We are spoiled in the states because our airport luggage carts are long and allow you to easily pile multiple bags on them. Here in Amsterdam I guess they don't expect you to travel with much luggage. Fortunately, I hauled my massage table home with me because it provided a long base that accommodated the red duffle. Otherwise I would have been facing a logistical challenge...did I mention that the airports here don't have porters running around to help you either? If you want to hire a porter you have to go to a special desk, call a special number, pay 30 euros ($40) and wait! So I pushed one cart and pulled the other through customs and out into the terminal...where a kind college student waiting for his sister's flight to arrive took pity on me and helped me push the carts out to the taxi stand.

More Holiday Vacation Photos

Maisy and her cousin Richard (Rick and Isabel's two year old) enjoying lunch at Me & Ollie's.

Maisy getting the snarls combed out of her hair before it was cut.

Cousin Richard enjoying his pacifer after getting his hair cut.

The cousins watching cartoons at grandma and grandpa's farm house.

All the little cousins love Jack!

Maisy envying cousin Richard's pacifier.

Maisy showing off her morning "haul" from the chicken coop. She loves finding the eggs grandma's coop. The chickens don't always lay in the boxes that grandpa built, so hunting for the eggs is an adventure. She wasn't interested in sharing this responsibility with her sister or cousin Richard. Who came up with the terrible twos?

The threes seem to be more challenging in our household.

Maisy playing a night game of whiffle ball with Baron at grandma and grandpa's lake house.

Maisy pulling Shophie up the lake house driveway on her sled.

Maisy riding her pony Colby. I'm pretty sure that Colby was happy to see us leave. He is the world's greatest dog. When Maisy is around he must play the role of a horse. She ties him to furniture, brushes him, sadles him, puts him in homemade stalls, covers him in blankets, the humiliation is never ending for that poor dog!

Sophie enjoying the warm fire.

Actually, my parents turned the heat on for our visit so I can't complain.Sophie and Mommy

Maisy playing in her log cabin at grandma and grandpa's lake house. She loves to play "The Three Little Pigs" with grandpa, who pretends to be the big bad wolf!

Maisy also had a difficult time sharing *her* house with Sophie or cousin Richard. I say *her* because the house was actually a hand-me-down from Marley and Jack. Jack tried in vain during our visit to teach Maisy about sharing, but it didn't sink in. Maisy found it perfectly acceptable that Jack should share his toys with her, because Maisy didn't consider herself a menace (or so she thought) like Sophie and Richard. One and two year olds simply don't know how to play "right!"