catching up with Sinterklaas

Last year's Sinterklaas celebration wasn't quite the roaring event it was in 2012 when we invited our Dutch returned missionary friends over to the party. Instead we got together as a family and were joined by one special returned missionary and his family. Spencer Sutherland made a big impact on Sander 14 years ago when he lived in Holland as an LDS missionary and taught Sander about the gospel once Sander decided he was curious. He also quickly became a good friend, and we have stayed friends over all this time. Then we got to know his wife Traci after we moved over here and quickly learned she is pretty great too, so we decided to let her in on the friendship. The best part: seeing our kids develop a new generation of friendship. It seems that especially Julia and Paige have found a kindred spirit in each other. Julia has stated several times that Paige's Birthday party at the Lion House was her favorite moment of 2013! 

As usual the wait to find out if Sinterklaas would pay us a visit this year was quite grueling. Luckily he didn't make us wait too long - there was a loud knock on the door as we were singing all the Sinterklaas songs we could muster and all kids (and some adults) sprang to their feet in excitement/fear. Sure enough, there on our doorstep sat the familiar burlap sack filled with the goodies only Sinterklaas could put together. All were spoiled, and many even received a personal poem written by one of the many helpful (and oh so naughty) Pieten. A few examples:

See what I mean about that naughty streak?

I want to make special mention of my friend Tom Kamstra, who played an important role in the success of our Sinterklaas celebration. Without me asking or even hinting, Tom went ahead and put a special Sinterklaas package together and mailed it to us from the Netherlands. It really made the night that much better to have things like 'strooigoed' there (the candy that Piet traditionally tosses around for the kids to scramble over). So from all of us a big DANKJEWEL to Tom! My dad was also very generous this year and ordered a bunch of traditional Sinterklaas treats for the kids (and adults) to enjoy. It all made for a night to remember! Now for the photos.

le sauce du nuggets

There is so much I could tell you about this past weekend that I don't even know where to begin. Lindsey had her best friend Ashley come over earlier last week who crashed on our couch. The kids immediately fell in love with her. I'm sure this had nothing to do with the fact that she ran around playing tag with them and flying them around in the air the day she arrived, when we were asking ourselves how she was even still standing up.... We fell in love with this good natured, laid back, spicy food lovin' gal as well. Especially after she, together with Lindsey and two wonderful sister missionaries, helped paint our hallway. 

When Ashley and Lindsey were deciding on what European city to go see while they had the chance, Sander kindly offered to have me go with them as their chauffeur in his work car, and suggested we go see Paris. He thought it would only cost us one tank of gas out of our own pocket, since we could fillerup on his company card just before leaving Holland. All we heard was: ROAD TRIP!!! and EIFFEL TOWER!!! and NO KIDS!!! and OH LA LA!!! Apparently seeing the Eiffel Tower was on some great 'things to do before I'm too old to do them without an oxygen tank' list Lins and Ash (as they will henceforth be referred to as) they made together when they were still in diapers. And they seemed genuinely happy about me crashing their party! I'm not sure if this really came across before, so let me make it clear that we were all very excited.

The following day (Friday) we packed our bags, shopped for junk food to snack on in the car, and said goodbye to Sander and the kids at 6pm. We were on our way! We had some traffic at first, but that cleared up pretty quickly and before we knew it we were at the last rest stop before the border with Belgium, filling up on gas (which is a liquid, this never ceases to confuse me). When we got to the French border I noticed that it seemed like we had hardly used up any gas at all - a hopeful sign when you're a cheapskate like me. We kept going, and chatting, and eating all sorts of junk, and listening to music, carefully following the road signs with the appropriate city names that Sander wrote out for us on them. Rotterdam, Breda, Antwerpen, Gent, Lille, Paris. We made excellent time and got to the town of Stains around midnight. Stains. I felt right at home.

Then came the first and really the only figurative bump in the road: The address for our hotel seemed to be incorrect as the TomTom lead us to a dead-end construction zone with absolutely nothing that resembled a hotel in the vicinity. After talking to some locals (I use the term 'talk' loosely as their English was non-existant and my French is, um, wobbly) we were able to find the hotel. The desk clerk, who spoke English bless him, gave us our room key and informed us that we had no toilet in the room but were welcome to use the communal one in the hallway. At a total of 37 Euros total for all 3 of us and the prospect of a bed we weren't complaining.

The night went quickly for those of us who slept (Lins and I) and probably dragged on forever for those of us with a severely messed up internal clock (Ash), but come morning we  got up, decided against a hallway shower, and got ready to rough it in Paris. We drove into Paris tand pulled in to a reasonably priced parking garage on Rue de Passy, where we set off towards the Eiffel Tower on foot. Once there our feet remained an important part of the experience as we took pictures of the Eiffel Tower with our feet in the shots, and proceeded to use them to walk further to the Arc du Triomphe, along the Champs Elysee, around the Louvre and finally into the Notre Dame. While those two looked around the impressive cathedral, I sat down in a pew, rested  my feet, feasted my eyes, and thoroughly enjoyed the peaceful quiet. Well, at least until that chinese baby next to me started screaming his head off. I've been fortunate enough to been inside the Notre Dame several times before so I didn't particularly feel the need to walk around this time but could really use a break from being on my feet as my shoes were hurting my heels, causing me to walk silly and hurt my knee. I did the exact same thing when I was in Venice with Sander, and obviously didn't learn a thing about proper footwear. I am hoping the Americans can teach me a thing or two on the subject, but more on that next time.

 

source

From the Notre Dame we took the Metro to the Sacre Coeur, where there was some kind of market/wine tasting festival going on. I got a little annoyed with all the merchandising inside the beautiful building and even considered buying off my sins for a split second, but once again the calm found inside centered me quickly and helped me control myself. Who am I kidding, it was the pure exhaustion from having to climb 13401 steps (I counted) to get up the hill this church was built on. The panoramic view of Paris is worth it though. Here is a shot I took last time I was there:

Our day of Parisian Pleasantries ended with a metro ride back to Rue de Passy where we paid the parking meter and drove Ashley to the maze that is Charles de Gaulle airport, where she was hoping to catch a direct flight to SLC. Unfortunately she ended up spending a night at the airport and not getting home until another day later. She wasn't the only one who had an eventful trip back home....

It all began when we stopped for food and checked out the rest stop's gift shop. Lindsey bought herself a miniature Eiffel Tower after much, much deliberation (it's OK Lindsey, you were tired and distracted by the prospect of french McDonalds). We ended up getting in the car without eating because this particular rest stop, though lovely, did not have the absolutely necessary McDonalds restaurant. Once back on the road we passed a McDonalds without remembering to take the exit and Lindsey realised she had neglected to buy a friend a souvenir at the previous gift shop. We pulled into the very next gas station where a very fed up  and forlorn looking young man named Florian sold Lindsey her 'objet d'art' with a deep sigh for less than it was listed as, because the prospect of punching another single number into the register filled his heart with despair.

When the next 3 rest areas didn't appear to contain Lindsey's beloved McDonalds (sometimes you just gotta have it, you know? I know.) she had a stroke of genius and punched 'McDonalds' into the TomTom. There appeared to be a restaurant only 2.4 kms away from us! Happy days! We took the exit Tom told us to take. And another one. And then another exit. Followed by a few roundabouts and another exit. We were starting to get a little worried when the road signs all started saying Paris again and nearly didn't take the last exit Tom wanted us to take but decided to extend him our last ounce of trust... and sure enough, after 3 more roundabouts and a long country road, there it stood. Like a shining beacon of glorious, golden, greasy satisfaction in the night. It was late, we were tired, and we were still a ways away from the border, so we opted for the drive through. 

'BONSOIRRR' the metallic voice of a young woman shrieked at us at the order box.

- 'Un Chicken Nugget menu s'il vous plait' I said back to it.

'CONQUEDESPOOPIDOUHUHUHLES PETITCHAUSSURRRRRRRRES', it shrieked back at me.
- 'Huh?' I replied.

'UNFROMAGGEEARRR*SAUCE*VOULEZVOUZCOUCHERAVECMOI*NUGGETS', it squealed.
- 'Barbecue sauce?', I asked.

*silence*
*silence*

'BONSOIRRR'

This was going nowhere fast, so I put the pedal to the metal to get us to the parking lot as fast as possible - forget the drive through. I faintly saw an angry girl at the first window waving her agitated french wave to us dimwit tourists as we zoomed by. The girl at the counter inside spoke some english - thank goodness, because my translation skills become non existant when I'm tired - and we got our food and hurried back to the relative safety of the car. We were pretty sure we saw a human trafficking hand off going down as we tried to make our way back to the highway, and failed to do so, causing us to have to drive through a rather hostile village where they follow their own set of rogue traffic rules. It took us an extra hour at the very least, but we got our food, and our souvenirs, and even got to see something rather special on sale before we were finally back on the road to La Haye (that's French for Den Haag, duh):

I like to think the price of 33 euros/kg isn't a coincidence.

And there you go. We made it to the Dutch border on the same tank of gas we got the day before, and pulled up to the house safely at 1.30am feeling poor in energy, but much richer in experience. Thanks girls, for letting me a part of your fun!

on meatloaf , gold carriages and pensioners

I have been MIA from this place with no good reason, and every good reason all at the same time. Chalk it up to all that insanity, just like pretty much everything else I don't have a better explanation for. The important thing being: I am here now! Now is all that matters. 

Let us play a little game of catch up.

1. I taught Lindsey how to make meatloaf. This is funny for two reasons. First: I only learned how to make meatloaf myself about a year ago. Second: I got to watch Lindsey knead raw meat and eggs. It was hilarious. I have pictures to prove it, and you can read the first person account of Lindsey's meaty misfortune right here.

 

2. Prinsjesdag (Prince's Day) came around and marked the annual reading of our country's financial plan by none other than our queen, Queen Beatrix. She reads this plan whilst sitting on a throne in the Ridderzaal (Knight's Hall) in our city of The Hague. She gets to the Ridderzaal by exiting her working palace Paleis Noordeinde and getting into her (no joke) gold carriage which her noble steeds then ride over to the Binnenhof. This procession takes place right here in our city and is one of the bigger national events that takes place annually, and so, Lindsey and I figured it would be nice to go see in person. Lindsey for the first time, and the rest of us quite possibly for the last time. 

We got to see her alright, in her mighty shiny carriage, with her immovable hair and ever present hat and everything. It was fun to see the whole parade, but some of the fun was killed by the mainly 55+ people standing around me who did not appreciate the fact that I had brought Elliot. Elliot was not having fun you see, and I expected no less. This whole thing happened in the middle of his normal nap hours, and consisted mainly of waiting - something 15 month olds are just not very good at. I had anticipated some crying... and cry he did. Though he didn't nearly cry and moan as much as the people around me, who, instead of using their precious energy to maybe help me, loudly complained to each other about my stupidity for bringing a baby to such an event. 

I wondered to myself  'Do you really lose all memories of what it was like to be young when you pass the age of 55? Do you honestly lose all sense of compassion and good manners, and become a judgmental, agist, cranky sourpuss?'* This  is a range of qualities that especially the Dutch seem to excell at. 

At one point I turned around to the particularly nasty couple behind me (who were also commenting on how happy they were that they weren't one of those 'brown' people the police would be watching so closely to prevent acts of terrorism), looked them straight in the eye (not difficult to do since we were packed together like sardines) and stood up for myself. I said: 'You do realise I can actually hear you, right?', to which they glanced around uncomfortably and mumbled something intelligable. I waited another couple of seconds to see if they had anything to say for themselves. Then I became worried they might soil themselves -they truly looked uncomfortable and you know, they were kind of old- , and I turned back around. 

The moment I had repositioned myself the man, again loudly, said to the woman: 'Maybe this will teach her not to take small children along to such events, ::sigh:: youth today...'. Yep, they pretty much embodied every single cliche there is of narrow-minded pensioners. I turned around again, looked him in the eye once more, and said: 'Maybe this will teach you to in the future watch these events from the comfort and quiet of your living room where you don't have to worry about brown people being a threat to you ,or young, hard working mothers trying to teach her children about our country!'. OK so, maybe I didn't actually say that. And I'd like to pretend the reason I said nothing was that I was taking the high road, not deeming them worth another thought or word. The real reason of course was that, between frantically trying to keep the kids happy and having to listen to their whining for forever, I was worried I might have a fit if I turned around again. The only place that would have landed me is in a jail cell, charged with several counts of geriatricide.

There he is behind me, looks friendly doesn't he? Sorry, no pictures of the actual gold carriage and our Queen - I had my hands full most of the time.

* Of course I realise I just got unlucky here and that most of you lovely over-fifty-fivers are loverly people - my own parents being excellent examples!

3. We got to go to the beach last week. The beach! In October! It was hot and incredible and fabulous and wonderful and we all got sunburns. I can't tell you how happy this made me - one last Den Haag beach experience. We ate grapes, TUCs with cream cheese, melkbroodjes with chocolate chips, potato chips and plums. We lazied around in the hot sand while the kids played in the water until they could play no more. It made me so happy.

4. We have a date for our final visa interviews! On November 10th we will find out if the US will have us or not. If they do then we are currently thinking of December 8th as a good day to fly out

5. This past weekend was our church's semi-annual General Conference, when our church leaders come together to speak to all the members (and everyone else interested) and remind us of how we should live our lives. That's not all they do though. They inspire, strengthen, encourage and exhude pure love. I came out of this conference feeling changed for the better and invite you all to read my favourite talk of them all over here. Feel free to browse the other talks that were given. Hardly anything will give you as good of an insight as to what I believe and how this church operates like listening to these men and women.

6. I am on a diet. Sander, Lindsey and I are on a diet, actually. We have vowed together that October would be our month of health and that together we would stick to some gruelling rules. One of those rules means that I have to stop typing right now and start exercising. Ugh. Halloween is our day of freedom... come celebrate and eat yourself into a stupor with us!

this girl

I have known this girl for longer than I can remember. I love this girl. I love her smile and her pretty red hair. I love her sense of humour and sense of style. I love that she watches silly movies with me and that we've never fought about boys. I love her family and her perfect teeth. I love hanging out with her, going shopping, talking for hours about life. I love talking to her for hours about nothing. I love that we named toy rings Pudding and Trut and that she knows all the lyrics to Weird Al's 'Alberquerque'. I love that when we see each other now that we're 29+ we giggle just as much as when we were teenagers. I love that no matter how much time goes by, I still love her just as much. Liz, I love your stinkin' guts.

lights on/off

Ever had the feeling you were being watched? I had it last Saturday when Sytje and I were over at Liz' place to watch movies and eat cupcakes. When I took a picture of my foot after I had given myself a pedicure (as you do), I had no idea of the apparition I would discover days later while processing my photo's. Take a close look at the photo when the lights are still off:

And now hold your breath as I switch the lights on for you, and we uncover what was lurking in the shadows..

I think she's after my purple nail polish. It is rather wonderful, so I don't blame her. I just hope she doesn't come to haunt me over it. Ghostly presence, if you read the internet: the nail polish does not belong to me... go see Sytje please. She's the one in the middle.

P.S. How ridiculously gorgeous are those two gals huh? Of course I'm the one next to all that stunning-ness with my awkward angle, double chin and over-exposed face.. but I'm okay with that because, well, I'm holding a cupcake aren't I? And sorry guys, the scrumptious sisters are both spoken for.

P.S. #2  Have you noticed my shiny new blogheader? Whaddaya think? I wanted to focus on summer and think that worked pretty well?

mawwiage...

....is what bwings us togethew today.

Brides and grooms seem to have been a theme in our lives this past month, and that's been just fine with me. Nothing like some good matrimony to get you thinking back on your own special day and how far you've come together. Hubby and I have come quite a ways after nearly 9 years of '..that bwessed awwangement, that dweam within a dweam..'. I'm talking serious downs, and serious ups. It's been the toughest, most wonderful ride of my life and I most certainly don't plan on ever quitting being on it!

We were so lucky to be invited to attend the wedding of our sweet friends Emily and Loek last week, and what a wedding it was. So incredibly well arranged and planned, and that bride. Oh my, that bride sure was a purdy one!

The girls especially were smitten...

Of course Sander and Max had a blast and looked very handsome.

And just so you don't think I was secretly absent, here I am sitting in the dining area, lovingly gazing at my son being cooed over by 7 somewhat tipsy ladies.

It was such a beautiful day, and they newlyweds managed to organise everything just perfectly. The atmosphere was relaxed and happy, even though you could tell how much thought had gone into everything to get it to a very high standard. Congrats again to Mr. and Mrs. van der Linden!

And wove, twue wove, wiww fowwow you fowevah and evah…

On to our next Holy Matrimony! This one will need a bit of explaining, but allow me to show you a picture to begin with.

Yep. That's my 6-year-old bride daughter and her 6-year-old groom. 'What on earth..?' probably comes to mind first! Here's the deal: my children go to a Waldorf school, and these schools are very into the changing of the seasons, and the many, mainly Christian, celebrations and stories that go with those seasons. Last weekend was Pentacost so on Friday this was celebrated by a couple from each class dressing up as a bride and groom, and dancing around the May Tree (not an actual tree, but more a big pole with many pastel coloured ribbons attached) together with the rest of the class (who all wear flowers in their hair). It's seriously the cutest thing you've ever seen, I love it! I was so proud of Lara being picked to play the bride that I didn't even mind making her that paper flower bouquet, or french braiding her hair halo-style. I beamed every single time I overheard other parents commenting to each other how beautiful she was.

Wow I love those two. I would say I can't wait until they really do get married, but I really don't want time to hurry up. It goes too fast as it is. With the exception of these last weeks of pregnancy, they need to go waaayyy faster! I'm done with the Braxton-Hicks contractions and utterly ready for labour to start now!

Right-O. It's sunny out, I'm signing off. Have a beautiful weekend everybody!