Sandpig, sandpig.

Just as I was thinking that Zurich winter was going to be the end of me this year, our Easter trip happened. We'd been through a bunch of ideas for getting back to North America for some sun, and they just had not panned out. Too long of a flight (27 hours?!) or too high of a price ($6000 for the three of us) for the Easter week. And then the memories of the jetlag that would not be conquered at Christmas time. So, we decided to learn from our Yuletide mistake and stay local. Swiss Airlines has a great feature which lets you dial in a price (which is a pretty good tracker for flight time) and, get this, a TEMPERATURE RANGE. I dialed in between 70 F and 90 F, and we wound up booking direct flights to Palma. It was the warmest place we could manage, while still being aware of State Department concerns and assuring non-stop travel.

We nailed this one. A small, family friendly hotel (Hotel Migjorn, near Campos) run by British expats, full of kids' amenities and in the countryside; a brand new rental car big enough for just our stuff, and 4 days of almost no clouds and about 72 F. Four beaches of silky white sand, many meals that were memorable (including the most gorgeous plate of tapas I've ever met at Perla Negra in Es Llombards), and three (or was it four?) trips to the island's best gelato shop (in Cala Sant Jordi) for a whole loving boatload of gelato in cones dipped in chocolate.

The water was still really cold, but nothing else was. The people, the food, the weather.

Now, I do have to say that our return to Zurich started promptly upon boarding the flight. Before we even got near the snow-covered Alps, we were surrounded by the surliest-looking, sun-burned people I think I've ever seen. No party atmosphere on that flight out of Palma. 

Best thing I learned on the trip - mostly a reminder, that we have to keep taking vacations, that are not about doing almost anything. Sure, I bought a few pairs of linen pants that I hope to someday wear to a very casual part of Zurich, and M saved me from buying a flowy, white shirt that would have never made it out of my closet. But mostly, we were looking for a beach to visit each day, to play in the sand, and as long as we got that and some food at regular intervals, we were great. No checking the phone, no texting or Facebook, and no trying to visit with others. Family trips, those to visit family, are rarely about taking things slowly. And although they are also vital, as A is growing up, and so we stay connected, they have about as much in common with vacations as mentoring graduate students has with managing them (which, really, given that professors are supposed to do both, should probably be reviewed by someone in charge somewhere at some point).

Best thing we did on the trip? Hard to pick, but the recurrent building of a sandpig sculpture on each beach kept things pretty coherent for the three of us.

Final thoughts - a bit more thought on the inflight programming that everyone has to see. Tom & Jerry and a chicken that shoots upwards of 1000 eggs out of its....egg-producing-organ? Not so bad for toddlers. The Best of Mr. Bean? Not so good for toddlers.

The stretch limo is waiting

Ricidulously fantastic potato pancakes. Which are really just a vehicle for sour cream.

I've been away from Zurich for a month now. In the US, for family medical issues (that have settled and are ok now), family visits, and a wedding. And for that month I was on a lot of main caregiver duty, because M only came for the last 10 days. I had help from grandmothers, and from some good friends, which kept me going. Mostly to JCPenney's or Target, places I would wander, trying on cheap, not so well-made clothing. I went to Whole Foods and stocked up on pancake and cookie mixes. I must have hit a DSW shoe store some 3 times, and unfortunately for A, those times she was with me. I think we've finally determined (on her part, too) that she does not, in fact, "like shopping", kind of like "I no like Istanbul, Mama."

I spent too much time in, and on the way to and from, stores. I spent too much time feeling worried that I would offend people who I didn't visit enough. I spent too much time trying feel like I was living in the US, shopping where I used to, visiting many people I know, trying to re-establish connections that there wasn't actually enough time to re-establish. 

I also connected with different people, though. Some I hadn't known as well, and made some deeper friendships. I spent time making loud, funny noises with my mouth, with A, in an attempt to make it the last 20 miles of a long days of flights and car rides. I worked on speaking up about what I would like, and what I didn't like to those with whom I sometimes have a hard time doing this. 

And I ate about the weight of my carry-on in potatoes, butter, sour cream and bacon at the rehearsal dinner for my cousin D's wedding. I drove about 5 different manual and automatic cars (and gained some 5 extra no-walking pounds) over 4 weeks, some rented, some borrowed, and lost just a bit of my soul every time I was at a Hertz Rental office. But I gained back some soul at a small, independent kids' shoe store in Chicago's north side, and at any place that served pancakes or french toast. I went to Toast in Chicago twice. Twice. For a food snob, my culinary desires in the US tend to gourmet comfort food. Chicken and waffles, Baja style shrimp tacos, Peanut Butter cheesecake, and anything from Toast. I mentioned that place already, yes?

Pretty good Kugelis. Also, vehicle for sour cream, thank you very much. Perhaps the leftover butter/bacon/sour cream sausce, too.

When you need a cab to the airport from the Chicago 'burbs, one option for the family bursting at the seams with luggage is....a stretch limo. "Mama, this is a biiiiiig taxi!" she said. M and A practice their "no paparazzi" moves.

I'm home again. And trying to both get back into life here in Swtizerland, and get over jetlag. Tonight is a bit bigger setback than I hoped, although it seems to be just me awake, which I'm pretty happy with. I did a lot of complaining over in the US, while I was wincing at pretty much any television content, about the lack of soul here in Switzerland. I've decided that it is time not only to seek it out actively, but to be the instigator of some such soul, when possible. A coffee shop + kids' bookstore + place-that-makes-breakfast-all-day-long-like-Toast is probably not in my cards, given that I do not care so much about cooking as I do about eating, or making coffee as I do about drinking it. But, depending some relationships, expanding how I (how we) participate, is now due. I have a few projects in mind. We'll see how they start off and I'll share a bit more here when they are underway.

The beast within

Turns out that turning on the air conditioner (yet another concession to increasing age and decreasing ability to sleep off a rough night well into the morning) was the way to sleep in Istanbul. It continued to be a gorgeous city, although never that well suited to travel with a toddler in the near 90 F sunny days. Not enough playgrounds nearby. And I think M was more than a bit worried in a big, new city, and wound up trying to constantly establish a 6 ft circumference safety circle around A. Good luck with that in a city where even the mosque guards can be found cooing to a baby, giving him their walkie talkies to chew and slam on the carpets, and later young women take the same baby for a walk always within sight of his parents. The people were so lovely and kind, and loooooooove children. Their own, yours, that one over there, all of them. There was not much personal space for A to inhabit when everyone wanted to pinch her cheeks. She declared in the middle of the trip "I no like Esstanbul," which I'm sure was not referring to all the gelato she ate, the birds she chased or the food she happily gobbled up. M and A and Aunt P had a tour guide show them around for a few days while I was at the conference.

I finally hit my stride at said academic gathering. My poster was moderately attended, I chatted with a handful of attendees, at coffee breaks and lunches, I hung out with the Brazilians. It was okay. I had time to think about my own research and where to take it from here, and went a few steps forward during the meeting, listening to the various English-as-a-second-language speakers' presentations. Know what? In a meeting like that, where even the native English speakers are working hard to keep up with the galloping change in accents that roam the span of each session, more text on slides is a good thing. As is reading directly from a slide. I'm a convert of the extreme context specificity of the "little text; no direct reading" rule.

Once I got home, work is again slow, and so I feel the same. And in an ill-advised google search of Candida Diet (something I might at some point need to consider, due to a combination of the d&c after the miscarriage and probably the cortisone shots), I am once again reminded of why "we don't do google searches on medical problems", children. Ugh. Look it up - you can eat beef, eggs, macadamia nuts, and peppermint tea. Oh, and eventually work your way up to yogurt. It is depressing, but not as creepy as all the folks discussing it on the forums (children, if you didn't obey, and actually did the google search, for the love of Pete at least don't read the forums...). They are busy writing things about the Candida Die-Off in which the candida is described as being angry at you, who are not offering sugar on its altar of gut and other parts destruction and attacks you. And you feel like crap.

So guess who tried a mini-version of no caffeine (coffee beans and tea leaves are moldy, apparently), sugar or carbs today? Someone with a death wish who really should have known better, but thankfully had daycare for both child and dog at midday. And then drank black tea finally. And then had a pizza and ibuprofen for dinner in hopes that the sudden flu symptoms (huge headache, aches, nausea, and I kid you not, even leg pain from my back) would go away. They did. I'm chalking it up to either caffeine/sugar withdrawl, or the ability of ibuprofen to handle flu symptoms. And pretending I didn't read anything about angry microbes.

In either case, I will most likely be offering white bread and jam and coffee to "the beast" tomorrow for breakfast. M replied to my texts about how horrible this felt by telling me to "feed my Trill." Nerd.

Lots and lots of rich, lush, glorious photos...and I have no idea how to make paragraphs that match photos!

Time for some photos. Of Mallorca, which, outside the city of Palma, and near the lovely town of Pollenca, was really relaxing and family friendly. We rented a house, for me, A, her aunt L, and her Bobute (my mom). We rented a car. There was a pool, visiting cats, nearby miniature horses to visit every day, country quiet and stars at night, and a 10 min ride to the town.
M had a conference in the US, so it was three women vs. one very excited and attracted to water Beibis (that's A). It was an even match. First order of business on the trip was to change into a newly arrived purple pajama and check about size restrictions for overhead luggage. Luckily, I think A forgot about the overhead thing once we'd boarded the plane so I didn't have to forbid her from riding in the bin.

A week with very few toys, and no playgrounds. And it went...just fine.
Each morning, no matter if she got to bed at 8:30pm or 11pm, A woke up at 7:30am. Ungh. We'd climb out of our beds, wander into the kitchen, open all the windows, put on some coffee, grab a yogurt from the fridge and head into the backyard. The baby chair wasn't all that stable against a pushy, flicky leg toddler, but we had some great conversations about what exactly was the table (where feet are not allowed) and what was the chair (where, on the usual parental, last-second decision in favor of peace and a chance in hell of actually making some coffee, I decided was ok).


Seafood was on many menus. It was all over this restaurant's menu, in fact. Monkfish, lobster, cuttlefish (sorry smart animal I didn't really like the taste of!), fish, more fish, clams, and fish.



The streets of many towns in the Northwest part of the island were preparing for a festival, and thin strips of flags fluttered above many of them.
There was a jacuzzi with the pool. Not a hot tub, really, since the water wasn't heated. But a great place, 5 feet above the pool level, to try escaping from.
We spent the whole day at this cove. With a rented beach umbrella space and chairs, snorkelling, swimming, eating, napping, and sifting through all sorts of shells, sea glass and rocks.

Ah, the pool.
Someone had a great time running around and around and around the post box near the placa where we were having dinner. Enclosed public spaces, where parents can sit and eat, and kids can run around, were one of the things that made this trip so toddler friendly.

Aunt L and A skip down the streets of Alcudia, new bags in hand. Or, arm.

To the mountains

This time the dog came with. For 4 days of sniffing and walking and hanging out in the mountains, near St. Moritz. And friends came with, with their kids who helped A have a great time. I ate a lot more hiking food than actually hiking (I meant to hike, really I did), but just being away was nice. The cows in their summer pastures with their bells clinking, the pretty buildings with the corners all embellished, fondue and hot cocoa and Father's Day French Toast made with a pulverized cookie coating. It was all good.

We stayed in Celerina, about a mile away from St. Moritz, much smaller, quainter, quieter, no Chanel or Jimmy Choo shops.

Ok, almost all was good. It seems the Alps open this coming (not last) weekend. All but one chairlift/gondola was closed, as were all the restaurants on the hikes. So leaving that bag of sandwiches on the dining table when we each thought someone else would bring them? Bad idea. Luckily the carrot sticks, apples, chocolate croissants, nuts and raisins made it, and we survived quite happily.

Now we're home again, and this is one of those uninspired, but I really need to start writing again, blog posts. My work life is picking up quite strongly, mostly with meetings with people which beats trying to stay awake working at my computer at home. I'm also looking for a decent (well, it is my first try), aesthetically pleasing RSS feed reader to consolidate all those blogs I stop by at each morning, so it is more like reading the morning paper than like desperately trying to find one more thing to read before being productive. Seems like Reeder for the Mac gets god reviews, and looks much nicer than the Google reader. We'll see.

That first time must have been a fluke

You know sometimes you have such a strong experience that it colors how you remember all subsequent experiences with the same person, place or event? Yeah, I think that is what Baby A's first flight did to my at Christmas time. She was a bit feverish from a vaccine shot, and slept most of the time. On the first flight to Frankfurt, then the one to Toronto, then in Toronto. A lot. No jet lag, really snuggly baby. I got a lot of sleep, as a result, and thought "Hey, my kid is a great traveler!"

Well, I think I'm ready to admit she's just a regular toddler traveler. Because after another long flight, I finally opened my brain enough to remember that apart from that first flight, she has screamed to sleep on every flight since. Ah, the power of positive thinking. It only took me 10 more flights to realize that. I guess it was good to have the illusion for the time being and it probably helped me more than anyone, to feel like it was going to be fine.

Not that she's a maniac on flights. But it is good to remember that if it isn't night time and the plane isn't all dark, and she isn't a bit sick, it will take a bit to get her to wind down, and that will include some crying. And making sure she eats enough fiber on flights is going to take a bit more work than I put into it this time.

Oh well. At least she can eat prunes straight out of the bag now.

As for the louder-than-necessary comments from the business man in back of us on the one flight she just drifted off to sleep on, about "the earphones don't work! when does the entertainment system come on so I don't have to hear crying?", turns out my baby is less of a whiner than you are. That is all.

Amsterdam with a toddler

With all trips I've planned or just dreamt about recently, to moderately large towns, I start at the New York Times. They have a travel section called "36 Hours in _____" and I just Google that with the name of the city. This tends to give me a good overview of some things to try, and I usually find at least one restaurant recommendation or the like to try out. The toddler in our lives means I tend to skip all of their suggestions for after 6pm, but I like having one recommended thing to start with. This time, it was a restaurant called Pancakes Amsterdam! I think that it was actually called something different in the 2007 article from the NYT, but we found it and it was perfect.

It is in a charming area called the "9 streets", full of cute little boutique shops that furnished me with a beautiful pair of earrings and 2 dresses, too. Tiny place, lots of traffic, so we had to go down the street, found some coffee (that gift from the Northern European gods is discussed below), and came back 40 minutes later. They have crepe type pancakes, American style one, and all sorts of yumminess in between. We had one with bacon, leek and cheese, and one with coconut milk, bananas and coconut shavings.



That's Baby A happily decimating the bacon one. She then went on to pick the coconut shavings of the sweet one, which shows you how much her father loves her, given that he's likely to do the same. Very baby friendly, complete with IKEA plastic utensils, plastic baby eating tarps, and some kid books. The waiter kept cooing at Baby A, too. We liked it so much, that she and I went back there the day we were on our own before flying home.


Speaking of the coffee we went to get while waiting to have pancakes...There is the toddler, having a great time trying to catch pidgeons outside the best coffee I've had in years at the Dutch chain Coffee Company. This was actually our second Coffee Company visit, the next day, but the coffee happiness was pretty constant at all 3 shops we went to. The shops are all in bold colors and the place might look too corporate at first, but these lattes could hold a spoon upright while the espresso shots slowly dissolve it.



So, most important things (food and coffee) covered, next I'll touch on accomodations. A lot of the B&B's in the city were booked, or had a 2-night minimum. The hotels were wither really pricey or had so-so reviews on Trip Advisor (another site I rely on very heavily for planning trips. I spend a lot of time looking at the reviews). So my other new favorite travel site, AirBnB came to the rescue. I love this site. It is full of individuals renting out a room or whole apartment/house they own. Usually cheaper than a hotel. And the best part, as far as traveling with a kid, you can find a place with a living room space (for a little person to stretch her legs and unwind after hours in the stroller) and a kitchen. Some even have a washer/dryer in the unit! We stayed at one in Chicago over the holidays and loved it. The one in Amsterdam, from Mia, was also great. I was looking for a place in the Leidseplein area of Amsterdam after reading a review that it was surrounded by great little streets and shops, etc. Loved the place. There was a grocery store around the corner (also great for travel with kids, and the sort of thing people tell you about on their AirBnB listing), as well as a tram stop from the train station. So, try out AirBnB - I stick to listings that have gotten at least a few reviews and are good reviews. I stay away from listings (just like with TripAdvisor) that have mention of crazy landlords who flip out. For me, no amount of great reviews can buffer the potential of an unstable personality. Even more so when I'm traveling with my kid.



Ok. Those were the basics of a good trip. I just happen to love the architecture and vibe of Amsterdam, too. And just to be extra confusing, let me put the first part last. When we got out of the train station and I knew from Mia's text message (ooh, having a local cell phone, with a working Google Maps is really really really nice - I have a horrible sense of direction, and I like it better than pulling out a huge map that screams "tourist!" At least in Northern Europe I can fake it sometimes. Especially in tall-person Netherlands.) to grab the 1, 2 or 5 tram. I went into the tourist office across the street from the train station and bought a map (just because I don't like using them doesn't mean I won't), a TimeOut Amsterdam magazine in English full of food suggestions (I like food. Can you tell? Like, a lot. And I like finding restaurant gems even more), a transport card for trams and buses, and tickets for the following day to the Van Gogh museum. All before heading to our place for the night.





Turned out to be a great thing. I went to get take-out from a delicious Thai restaurant that was reviewed that month, for dinner that night in the apartment. We didn't have to bother with change for the trams. And best of all, the next day when we were trying to visit the Van Gogh museum quickly enough (in an hour, pick a few rooms and not try to see the whole thing) to get Baby A down for her noon nap, we went straight in without waiting in line to buy tickets. Fabulous. The museum itself was pretty roomy, even with a crowd so Baby A wandered and pushed her stroller while we took turns seeing the paintings in a room. She even practiced her new hands-folded-across-chest art critic pose once, which got a bunch of smiles. And the restaurant there had a decent selection of food for lunch for us. Sorry, no photos allowed in the museum, so none here.


And there you have it. Amsterdam with a toddler. In 24 hours, even. Oh, last thing, trains run to and from the airport every 15 minutes or so, many Dutch speak fantastic English, and M's bag got stolen on the train into Amsterdam a few days later, from the above-head luggage rack so although it is a charming town, it isn't crime free.