A Day In The Life

In many ways this weekend was just another few days in the bigger-picture-life of my Swiss adventure. And, realizing that I haven't actually communicated what it is I do here on a typical day, I figured a little play-by-play might be nice. (Or, you know, mind-numbingly dull. You be the judge.)

It was a good weekend overall. My hostess Carrie got a medical leave for three days and came home for a while. While I've loved the things we've done as a little family group when Carrie is around, the kids seemed to get more agitated (or maybe they just relax and stop being polite) and by the time their mom was picked up to go back to the clinic a few hours ago, I was almost too tired to get the kids to bed, let alone myself. (I write this now in a haze of half-sleep muddled with a desire not to forget the happenings of weekend.) 

So much happened. Although the Swiss version of "Fall Break" officially ended today, the kids have still been on holiday mode (today being their first return to school and a regular schedule in the last two weeks) so I can't really blame them for being full of energy and excitement, and rather lacking in the patience and manners departments over their last weekend of freedom.

Sunday morning began like most, me getting up and preparing breakfast BEFORE waking the kids (something I learned the hard way--if you wake them first, they are all over the place and you can't do anything. Make a meal quietly while they sleep, then wake them, and you just bought yourself 15 beautiful minutes of tea time on the porch in relative quite,) followed by a battle of wills: Jamie trying to get everyone at the table to play Clone Wars with him, Raina wanting to make jewelry between bites of crepe, Carrie trying to tell me the plan for the day, and me desperately attempting to take in important information while not appearing to ignore the kids around me. Let's just say it was a draw. 

After breakfast I leaped into my usual (and if I'm honest, my favorite) duty of family Dish Fairy and Clean-Up Queen. Not only do I not mind dishes, it is really my only chance to be completely in control all day long. Not that the kids don't listen to me (most of the time...) but cooking and cleaning are just easier and simpler than asking an energetic 9-year-old for the tenth time to please stop jumping on the couch. But after more than a few polite reminders, requests, and outright orders we were all safely buckled in the family car and off to Chur to visit the petting zoo and have a picnic in the park. 

The drive was fine, and while I know I'll never drive the speed limit here (I top out at about 15 under) I feel like I'm getting the hang of curves, blind corners, my crazy, lane-hogging fellow drivers, roundabouts, and traffic lights that are so well hidden you have to look for them at interactions. Paying for parking is still a challenge, and I think I will simple become known as the stupid and generous American girl due to the fact that I always put in a 5F coin, no matter how long I'm parked, for fear of it being too little...coupled with a complete lack of ability to read the requirement on the coin machine.

But make it we did, if a little more slowly than what is considered a normal pace. (Have I even mentioned why I'm doing all the driving? I ferry the kids around during the week because I am the only one here, but on the weekend when Carrie is home I drive because she has yet to pass a driving/ combined motor skills test following the brain infection she suffered as a result of Meningitis. Recovering from headaches and dizziness, though improving every day, it only seemed prudent that I, despite my inexperience, take the wheel in favor of the lady with the brain infection.) 

At the park we did what I assume is typical of kids and their families as petting zoos. We looked at sheep and quarter horses and donkeys, the kids played with goats and pigs and tried to chase a llama, then we spent a large part of the morning in a barn in which the top portion had been converted into a ropes course, just above a three paneled trampoline. Jamie did cartwheels and backflips and ninja kicks until I was sure he'd puke, while Raina planted herself on a tire-swing, content to have me push her as high as I could for as long as my arms could take it. We picnicked in the autumn sunshine near rocks and a splendid climbing tree. The kids climbed all over but soon fell to fighting over whose branch was whose, who could go higher or hang upside down longer---the whole nine yards of competition.

The afternoon did not improve when we got home. Continued fighting--now the physical kind--alarmed me more than I can say. Not that Jamie kicking Raina or Raina pinching Jamie back is anything new to me, but the sheer volume of their retorts to each new attack, combined with the one-uping of each new insult or injury...it was oddly draining.  After a little break and breather for everyone, during which I washed some more dishes and put a disheveled second floor back in order, the afternoon activities involved making things out of clay (props to my mother for this one--hours of time, and fight-free!) 

while Carrie took on dinner, for which I was extremely grateful, not realizing how truly tired I was. It was a simple meal, but yet another first for me, and a cultural treat to boot. Toasting forks in hand, the four of us shared a meal of sausages, bread and pears dipped in traditional Swiss fondu. Who knew that a little combination of grated cheeses, garlic, cornstarch, and a little wine and vodka could make such a smashing dinner time experience?!

I took on the cleaning while Carrie packed up to return to the clinic in Valence, we tag-teamed bedtime, and in no time at all I find myself in my room, typing like a fiend, only to realize that I have said pretty much nothing of consequence in the space of this entire post.

Alas, it can't be helped, as I am dead tired and the whole rigmarole must begin afresh tomorrow. Welcome to adulthood, I guess. Wish me luck, dear reader!