When in Rome (part 3)

I've decided that when I need a break from packing and cleaning in this last week before we exit Stockholm (SIX DAYS!!!), I can spend it blogging about Italy. A productive break, so I won't feel guilty. Note, these breaks are only possible because I convinced Nathaniel that I *must* hire a cleaning service to clean the flat after we leave. I laid in bed for several nights, mind spinning with how I could possibly get the flat adequately cleaned while we were still living in it, and had nightmare visions of trying to get out of the flat as we left for the airport, in a state of complete panic. We may still be in panic mode when we go, but at least it won't be because I'm trying to scrub the oven at the last minute. It's money we don't have, but sometimes you have to invest in your own sanity.

*****

Wednesday in Italy means the morning papal audience! Renee requested our (free but required) tickets months in advance, because she's amazing. Fr Rolling kindly picked them up and delivered them to us at dinner Tuesday. Also at dinner, he gave us some advice on what time to arrive, which security point to enter through, and which seats to head toward for the best views of the pope during his drive through the square. It is SO GOOD to know people in the know.

Nathaniel and I volunteered to go early, around 7am, with a couple of the bigger kids to save seats. Ruth and William volunteered, but come morning, William was still asleep while Henry was awake and fully dressed by the time my alarm went off. I was in awe! So Ruth and Henry accompanied us on a speed walk to the Vatican.

We circled all the way around to the far side to enter at the checkpoint Father had suggested, and waited in line for the gates to open. Unfortunately, just as the line started to move, about 15 minutes after we'd gotten in line and much longer for many of the people ahead of us, the security guards told everyone they had to go through a different entrance and sent us all packing! I have no idea why, but since they run the show and are not required to explain, we headed out with the masses to a different entrance, where we were much further back in line.

As we waited to get to the security point, I could see the seats, and watched people moving in. Father had told us not to bother with the closest two sections, toward which most people would run, but the third section, at the back corner, which the pope would pass twice on his drive. We were nearing security when I saw the first few people heading to that section and taking the seats we'd hoped to score. When we finally got there, there was no hope of being against an edge, but we got seats as near as we could. And we got lucky - someone in the corner had a beautiful baby girl, dressed up in a white christening gown, which was our obvious ticket to extra pope time. Father had even joked, after looking at our kids and noting that none were young enough to be good pope bait, that we should save an extra seat and ask someone with a baby to join us. Pope Francis loves babies!

We settled in for a lengthy wait for the rest of the family. Phil and Renee had a challenge getting to us, as security put them in on the wrong side. We spotted them negotiating with a security guard, trying to get him to let them cross the blocked off center aisle. No go. They had to walk all the way around the back of the square, all the littles in tow, but they made it!

At that point, Nathaniel decided to make a run to the restroom, despite my skepticism about the timing. It was after 9:00, with the audience beginning at 10am, and the pope's drive through the square sometime prior to that. He asked the security guards whether he could expect to get back in and they told him to go. We're not sure in retrospect whether they understood the question, because he did not make it back before they closed things off for the pope mobile. Oops. All that waiting time, and he viewed Pope Francis from much further away. He did still get a view, and he had our videos and photos to enjoy, but bummer.

Pope Francis did, indeed, drive past our corner twice, stopping the second time to kiss the sweet baby girl in front of us, and we all felt honored to be there, so near. A young lady in the row in front of me was in tears of joy. It was moving to see. Once the pope moved up to the podium, the sections were reopened and Nathaniel was able to rejoin our group for the audience.

The audience itself consisted of a reading, read in many (eight?) languages, followed by a short reflection by the pope, which was summarized in all those languages again. It was long and most of it was in languages we didn't understand, but it was an experience we're glad to have had. At the end, the pope offered blessings on all of us and our families and friends back home, so consider yourself blessed! He also offered a blessing on any religious items we had with us. Again, really glad Renee knew about that and tipped us off to do our shopping early. We usually put off souvenirs and gifts to the last minute. This way, we were able to get rosaries and gifts for our godchildren, blessed by Pope Francis.

*****

That was just the beginning of our day! After the audience, Nathaniel and Phil went back to the apartment to drop off all the newly blessed religious goods, while Renee and I found a tiny pizza joint and fed the kids lunch. Delicious! We met the guys at the subway and headed to the Colosseum. Renee had lined up a tour guide to lead us through the Colosseum and Roman Forum. We had a little time to kill, so tried to visit the nearby Basilica de San Clemente, but it turns out many of the church close from noon till 2pm, and we were there at just the wrong time. We spent the time eating gelato and chasing geckos instead. Not the worst swap. I also got stung by a bee - boo! But better me than a kid, or someone with allergies.

As with the churches in Rome, it's hard to adequately describe the ruins and antiquities. You can likely see better photos and get more information online than I can give here, so I won't go into much detail. Our guide, Agnes, was entertaining and great with keeping the kids engaged while still talking to the adults on our level. She walked us around and through the Colosseum, then up Palatine Hill, telling stories and pointing out fun details the whole way, allowing us bathroom breaks as needed (which is often, with nine kids). It was definitely a better experience than when I saw the Colosseum on a trip in college, and we just sort of peeked through a gate, said, "cool!" and moved on (though that's not a hard bar to raise). We happened to run into Agnes several days later, leading a tour at the Vatican Museum, and she was able to point us toward the Raphaels, so it was a good connection to have made. Ha.

I feel like I should have a lot more stories and anecdotes from this afternoon, but my mind is blank beyond the general coolness of the history and the unbelievable cutting edge technology they used in constructing it (they built the Colosseum in just eight years! and they think it had a retractable cover, like the baseball stadium in Phoenix but all manual!). I may have to add more as I remember it.

*****

Our crew (N's and mine) were pretty done by the end of the tour, while Renee's was still up for dining out, so we split up. We headed back to the apartment and sent Marianne and Nathaniel to the grocery store to find dinner food and more breakfast and snack supplies for the next day. A rotisserie chicken and some cold roasted veggies from the deli counter can never taste as good as they do in an apartment in a foreign country after a long day of walking. 

When in Rome (part 2)

Our first full day in Rome was not a take-it-easy sort of day. More of a jump-in-with-both-feet day!

Renee knew so much more about all this Rome stuff, having spent a semester in Rome during college, so I let her lead the way on planning (read: do it all). She started a google spreadsheet months ago to track our plans, so my heart was full - nothing give me the warm fuzzies like a good spreadsheet.

Tuesday's priority was St. Peter. And St. Peter's. But first, St. Peter himself, via the Scavi Tour. For those of you who don't know (like I didn't, till Renee told me about it), there are tours of the archaeological sights under St. Peter's Basilica available to adults, which include an opportunity to view the remains of the saint himself. Since you must be 15 to go on the tour, none of the kids qualified, so Renee scheduled us to go as couples, on separate tours, handing off the kids in between. (I asked the tour guide about the age restriction. He spouted something about the air not being healthy for children, and noted that guides were only allowed to lead two tours per day because of it. A different tour guide later in the week said that really it's just because Italian kids are so naughty.)

No photos were allowed on the tour, but it was really interesting and well worth the time and expense. As with most of the tours we went on and churches we visited, I really can't do justice to the subjects. You can get better info by googling the topic, and probably better images as well. But I can say that it was all incredibly impressive and educational and moving. Also, it was cool to watch the Swiss Guard up close while we waited for our tour time, telling people what to do and where not to go, all with such flair in those uniforms. And it would have been really cool, how the tour dropped us off inside the security at St. Peter's, except we had to exit to go meet up with our family outside of security, where they were midway through the picnic we'd helped pack before we left.

Oh, flash back on that a minute. We'd had some vision initially of all of us heading to St. Peter's together, all the grown ups and kids, at which point Nathaniel and I would branch off for our tour. However, that first morning (and every morning after) we remembered that none of us are particularly good at mornings or at being on time. So, as the time Nathaniel and I had to leave to make our tour approached, we - as a group - were nowhere near ready to leave. Instead, I made sure our crew was dressed and mostly ready, packed our lunch, instructed our kids to be really good helpers for Aunt Renee and Uncle Phil, and then Nathaniel and I headed out on the walk on our own. I felt all sorts of guilty about making Phil and Renee shepherd all nine kids to the Vatican that first time, especially as Nathaniel and I walked along the roads with no sidewalks and blind curves and I continually pestered Nathaniel to message Phil and about what they should be careful about. I'm not a paranoid sort of mom, but I have real issues putting my work on to someone else, and I consider my kids my work, you know? It's a legit issue of mine that I recognize I need to work on - letting other people help me. But that's not the topic of the day. Turns out they walked a slightly different way that had slightly safer sidewalks and they all made it to the square alive and well. Nothing to worry about!

When we found them post-tour, they were settled on some steps, eating salami and brie and crusty bread and really, does life get any better than that?! That is really just my happy place. Okay, maybe 20% lower humidity than Rome was offering us would have been my even happier place, but it was pretty fab.

Phil and Renee left to go on their scheduled tour, and we took over kid management. It was an hour or so of chasing pigeons, waving away souvenir sales guys, watching the same guys get chased off by the police, taking kids to the restrooms, and soaking up watching the cousins reconnect. It was lovely. We did lose Oliver one time, very briefly, but we found him again quickly. All's well that ends well and all that.

*****

The second item on the day's itinerary was a tour of St. Peter's Basilica by a North American College seminarian. Apparently they do this all the time, and you can just show up for it! We took all the kids to start the tour (along with 20 or so other English speakers), and Phil and Renee tracked us down and joined in when they finished their Scavi tour.

If you've never been to St. Peter's Basilica... there really are not words to describe the experience. Rome is filled with churches of unspeakable beauty, churches heavy with history, churches that literally take your breath away when your eyes adjust from the sunlight outside and first allow you to take in the grandeur within. (Heavy handed, I know, and I haven't even touched on the spiritual side of the experience.) St. Peter's in the epitome of all that. It's beyond my skill to describe, but I hope every Catholic has a chance to walk there one day.

Our seminarian gave an excellent tour. They have a system that's new since I was last there 20+ years ago - the tour guides have mics and everyone on the tour gets an earpiece, so the guides can speak quietly but reach their whole group. The overall volume in the Basilica was much lower than I remember, which was wonderful for a place where you can hope for prayer, even amid the chaos of tourism. It was an excellent visit. We hardly scratched the surface of all the beauty there was to see, and history there was to learn, but we basked in it all and gave our children a taste of it, and I'm grateful for that opportunity.

*****

After all that, we hit the streets near the Vatican for our first (of many) gelato stops. I don't know if it was because it was my first gelato, or if it really was an excellent little shop, but I had coconut gelato (inexplicably... I still can't figure out what prompted me to choose coconut, it's not like me at all) and it was heavenly! Maybe I was just really hot and hungry. It was so good that I was inspired to try coconut a couple other times, from other shops, and none of them lived up to that first taste.

We also did some gift shopping. I hadn't given much thought in advance to what we might purchase while there, but Renee pointed out that anything we bought RIGHT THEN, we'd have with us for the papal audience the next morning, and could have blessed by the pope.

Cue frantic shopping spree!

Kidding... mostly. We realized later in the week that we should actually have bought more, to have extras, as we kept thinking of people we wished we'd gotten rosaries for. Oops. Sorry everyone we didn't buy things for. We're not really souvenir people, though, so it's hard for us to think that way.

*****

We wrapped up this first, epic day with dinner with Fr. Rolling, a priest from Lincoln who is studying in Rome and who helped advise us as we prepared for our trip. None of us knew him previously, so it was nice to put a face to the email conversations. We had a little time to kill near the restaurant while waiting for him, so Nathaniel and Phil popped into a church across the street. It turned out to house the incorrupt body of St Philip Neri. Rome is crazy, man! You never know what you're going to find when you duck into a church!

Fr. Rolling had selected a restaurant with a lovely outdoor area, and room for the kids to run in an adjacent park, except it turned out most of the park was fenced off for renovation. It's the thought that counts. And the kids made good use of the narrow band of available park when they needed to run off energy, while we adults spent four hours enjoying an excellent Italian dinner. Father knew all the seasonal specials to recommend, including stuffed zucchini blossoms and fresh melon with prosciutto. Happy, happy, happy! Most of my kids were pleasantly adventurous, except Rachel, who kicked off her tour of Rome's best buttered noodles (or "white pasta", as they politely call it, to make it sound classier).

Dinner was divine, and ended with a complimentary round of limoncello, which was probably very unnecessary given the number of bottles of wine we'd worked through... but it was a fun treat anyway. Renee and I were both on the loud and laughing end of the spectrum by the end, which made figuring out the Rome bus system to get ourselves home HILARIOUS. It turns out Marianne is officially old enough to notice and disapprove when her parents are a few glasses in, but we were still totally functional. Sheesh. (Sidenote: We let Marianne and William have a small glass of wine each with dinner. So grown up!)

We found the kiosk to purchase our bus tickets where Father has pointed us, and our bus came fairly soon after. Getting on board the bus and validating our tickets turned out to be more challenging. Somehow, while a couple of us were struggling to feed our tickets into the little on-board machine, the bus door closed on Phil and he had to bang on it and pry it open... I don't know if it was mechanical failure or the bus driver not enjoying our humor, but it had us laughing even louder.

We made it home safely - after the kids spotted the first of MANY geckos on the walk - and called it a very good, very successful day. Phew. I'm exhausted again just thinking of it. But there was no real rest for the weary, because the next day was the Wednesday papal audience, which meant an early morning! To be continued...

When in Rome (part 1)

Oh boy! I scarcely know where to begin or what to record... I'll take it mostly chronologically, somewhat bullet pointy, definitely rambly.

*****

We flew RyanAir for the second time - the first being Paris - so knew the bus-to-distant-terminal routine better and, thankfully planned well enough to make our flight easily despite the bus we'd intended to take being full well before the line of people were on board. Phew. Unfortunately, as we were walking into the airport from the shuttle, Nathaniel realized he had forgotten to take TWO pocket knives out of his pants pockets before we left. Once an Eagle Scout, always an Eagle Scout. He had a small keychain swiss knife and my good swiss army knife. I once had a similar situation with only carry ons and a pocket knife inadvertently left in my purse, but I'd been at the Denver airport, which is huge, so security had pointed out the nearby post office, where I could mail the knife home to myself and have it waiting for me on my return. There was no such option at Skavsta.

Because he couldn't bring himself to throw the knives straight into the trash, Nathaniel had the idea to stash them outside the airport, where he could attempt to retrieve them on our return! As the kids and I used the bathrooms and emptied our water bottles in preparation for security, he hunted around outside for a suitable bush to hide them under while trying not to look like a total creeper.

All week, we speculated and joked about whether they'd be there when we got back... sad spoiler, they were not to be found. Keep in mind, we got home at 11:00pm, so he looked even more like a creeper hunting around in the bushes in the near-darkness trying to find his knives. It was pretty hilarious. But the bushes had been trimmed and mulch applied while we were gone. Bad luck timing for landscaping. Oh well. He owes me a new pocket knife.

*****

When we arrived in Rome Monday night, we had a car hired to drive us to the AirBnB that Renee had lined up. Phil and Renee had arrived the night prior, and she had texted me to say they had gone to dinner but would be at the apartment in time for our arrival.

Even better! As the car turned up the street we were staying on, we saw Renee and Phil and the boys just arriving at the apartment building! It was the sweetest way to reunite - them walking home from dinner, us yelling with excitement out the van window! The driver of the van was attempting to drive us further up the street, saying no, this is was not the correct address. But we assured him that we were joining these people, and so yes, this must be the correct address, and we piled out of the car and paid him.

After hugs and excitement all around, Phil fumbled with the key to show us into the building, until a gentleman leaving held the door. We hauled our suitcases up to the second floor (reminder: the ground floor does not count in Europe, so that's two flights up), where Phil struggled again with the key. The door wouldn't work. Then, Renee noticed that the sign that should have been by the door was missing. Then, everything clicked!

We really were at the wrong address!

There were two apartment buildings with identical entrances a half block apart. Phil and Renee, in all the bustle and excitement and newness, had brought us all into the wrong building. Thank heavens no one appeared to have been home at the apartment we were attempting to break into! We all laughed loudly - we're Cunninghams, and a big group of Cunninhams at that, so we did everything loudly - as we made our way up the street to the correct building, where the keys worked. The driver had long since left, so didn't have a chance to tell us he'd told us so.

*****

I will let Renee make all my AirBnB reservations from now on. I'm more than a little gun shy after the Paris fiasco, but the apartment she found for us in Rome was wonderful! It slept all 13 of us comfortably in four bedrooms (one each per couple, then a bedroom for each sibling set), and had four bathrooms! My three youngest shared a queen sized bed, so it wouldn't sleep 13 adults, perhaps, but it worked fine for our needs. The only thing it lacked was a living room space, but it had a big dining room/kitchen area that served well enough. The linens were all white and bright, and overall the apartment had a clean, airy feel to it. Also, no bugs, which is key.

It was a 20 to 30 minute walk to St. Peter's (depending what age kids you were herding), so not bad, and it was just a few minutes to a subway stop and a newly built mall with a fun food court and a BIG grocery store. After we dropped off our bags, we spent the remainder of our first evening in the mall, getting dinner for our family and stocking the kitchen for the next couple days. I can only imagine how our crazy crew of kids, running wild through the grocery story at 10:30pm, must have looked to the employees. Thankfully hardly anyone else was in the store at the time. The kids were super keyed up with reunion-excitement!

If you ever head to Rome with a small group or big family, I'd recommend the AirBnB! (I say that, not having done any of the communication with the owner, so Phil and Renee would be the better ones to decide whether we'd recommend it.)

Finland for a day

By now you've seen the photos and heard bits and pieces about the whole cruise-to-Finland mini-adventure on my birthday. There are some memories and observations I want to record that won't fit in an instagram post, so here we go:

~ First, let's talk about these cruise ships! We traveled on a legit, huge cruise ship, with several restaurants, bars, and a dance club. We had a pretty short time aboard, from around 8pm till 6 or 7am, so for us, with kids, it was just enough time to let the kids play in the ball pit area and then get everyone to bed, with a very early wake up call. I can hardly imagine who's taking advantage of the pricey dinner or breakfast buffets. LOTS of people, however, were taking advantage of the bars and clubs. ALL NIGHT LONG. People arrived and boarded in clubbing clothes! They were there for a night on the town, but on a boat. I imagine many of them only booked a ticket for passage and didn't even have a cabin, because they were still drinking as we got off the boat the next morning (gag). I can't really wrap my head around it. On the return cruise, since it was my birthday, Nathaniel and I figured we should go have a drink and listen to the band. It was PACKED with people, but the music was... I'll be generous and say "mediocre". It was some Finnish actor who the 50+ year old ladies in the crowd clearly adored, crooning some schmoopy songs with a live band backing him. There were loads of 20-somethings on the boat as well, but they must spend their night drinking in the disco instead. Too bizarre. I can imagine it all working out better on the slightly longer cruises to Estonia or Helsinki, when you're on board from 5pm till 10am, and have time to eat, party a little, and still sleep before reaching your destination.

~ We saw some familiar faces on the return boat the following night... but we didn't run into them at the museums around Turku. Where did those folks pass their day? Did they get a hotel somewhere to sleep it off so they could party again on the return? Interesting... and gross.

~ We packed minimally for the trip. Two nights and one day away, so everyone took one change of clothes, and one set of pjs, with the plan to put whatever we wore on to the boat Friday night back on for the quick journey home early on Sunday morning. We were able to get everything we needed for the seven of us into two carry-on sized suitcases. I also had one shopping bag filled with food for a picnic dinner and some snacks. I was struck by how little we were able to get away with taking (although two rolling bags probably still sounds like a lot to someone without kids). I'm grateful for the phase in life at which this whole sabbatical came. Having no kids in diapers, or even prone to accidents has been a godsend. I'd have had to pack six extra outfits for Rachel "just in case" if we'd taken this little weekend outing two years ago. Or a whole pack of diapers if it was a year before that. If I were home with a stroller at my disposal, there are likely times I'd have toted it along "just in case" for Rachel even now, but not having one has been totally fine! All the kids walk miles with us on our outings, and the distances have seldom been an issue. It's amazing what you realize you can do without when forced to do without it! I would never be someone to discourage anyone from taking a baby somewhere. Parents are super humans and babies are versatile. Taking a baby on sabbatical and on every one of the excursions we've made could totally be done, and the photos would be adorable. But I'm grateful not to be juggling that extra work this year.

~ Turku! Ever heard of it? Me, neither, till a couple weeks ago. It also goes by Åbo in Swedish. I did a little quick research after we booked our tickets to see how we should spend the 12 hours on shore, and thankfully there was more than enough to do. Meg remarked toward the end of our day, "If we lived here, it would have taken us at least a week to do all of this!" So true! At home here in Stockholm, we hardly ever cram more than one museum into a day. In Turku, we went to three museum and a Cathedral (plus eating, some brief park stops, and an extra bit of walking to pass by another church that wasn't open), all in one day! The fitbit wearers tracked us at OVER 12 MILES OF WALKING that day. That sounds like a lot for me, but when I look at the littler kids and realize they walked it all as well, I'm in awe of what rock star travelers we have!

~ Nathaniel's instagram post gave a good overview of the sites we saw. We started with a lengthy walk along the river, hoping to find a cafe open for breakfast, but nothing was open at 8am in that part of town. In fact, we scarcely saw another human being once we left the harbor. I had some snacks in my food bag that could have worked, but we grown ups were desperate for coffee, and I wanted to save the snacks for potential emergency food needs later, so we kept trekking along. We finally spotted a grocery store on the other side of the river with a little barge/boat that drove back and forth, carrying passengers for free, in lieu of a bridge! Fun! Finding food in the store itself gave me some flashbacks to the first grocery runs in Sweden, when I didn't know where to find things and couldn't read any of the signs... but it wasn't too hard to find pastries, and they had a coffee machine and some tables. Hooray!

At the start of our shopping, we noticed a pallet with a pile of buckets, and the few other patrons in the store all seemed to be carrying a bucket each, some loading their groceries into them. As we sat and ate our breakfast, it seemed like each person who checked out had a bucket... So as we were wrapping up, I saw the cashier with a free moment and asked her what the story was with the buckets, whether it was common here for people to use buckets in lieu of shopping of bags? She said, no, the store had just opened two days prior, and the first 500 customers could have a free bucket! I, of course, saw no need for us to start toting a bucket around as we began a day of sight seeing in Turku, Finland. My kids saw things differently. "Can we get a bucket?" "Can we EACH get a bucket?" Ugh. No for SURE to the latter. Nathaniel said yes to ONE bucket. So, if you look at our Finland pics, keep an eye out and you'll almost always be able to spot a bucket somewhere in the shot. (To be fair, the bucket came in handy for putting the kids' jackets in when they didn't want to wear them.)

~ We started at Turku Cathedral, both because it opened earliest, and because it was the far point of our exploration into Turku, so everything after that was moving us closer to boarding our return ship that evening. The River Aura runs through the city and nearly everything we wanted to see was situated along the river, which made for pretty walking. The second stop was Aboa Vetus & Ars Nova, "the museum of history and contemporary art". There was a line forming outside the museum before it opened, which seemed impressive. When they unlocked the doors, however, nearly everyone but us headed straight to the cafe! As I was buying our tickets, I remarked that the cafe was very popular and asked whether it's like that daily. Turns out they have a special brunch with live jazz on Saturdays that draws a big crowd. The museum ended up busy enough, but the cafe was hopping!

Despite the odd combination of history of ancient Finland and contemporary art, it was a great museum! The history section was an area of actual excavations that you could walk through, with maps and information about what it would have looked like during various phases of Turku's history. They had an interesting section with skeletal remains of animals found in the dig - mostly livestock and domestic animals, but also seals, etc. There were a couple big doll houses representing what buildings would have looked like during different eras. Rachel could have played with those all day long! Other hands on displays were scattered throughout. Very cool. The contemporary art display was a new one that had just opened that weekend displaying the work of Maria Prymatšenkon - bright, colorful, cartoonish images of animals and imaginary creatures. Really interesting for a quick walk through.

After grabbing some lunch, we walked a few blocks out of the way to see St. Michael the Archangel Church. I had read online that it would likely not be open, and it wasn't, but it was beautiful from the outside. (Both the Cathedral and this church are Lutheran. I looked up whether there was a Catholic church we should hunt down, but there's only one in Turku, and it's modern architecture didn't inspire me to go out of our way for it).

A lengthy walk took us nearly back to the harbor where Turku Castle is located. This was probably my favorite thing we saw. It wasn't much to look at from the outside, but they have done a great job of restoring it and providing displays taking you through all the architectural phases of the castle throughout history. The people working in the castle are all dressed in period costume, and apparently put on little activities during the day. We stumbled upon a group of ladies in costume - in the chamber where ladies in waiting would have spent their days - dancing in a ring. When they finished and we applauded, they insisted that some or our group join them for a dance, so Nathaniel, Ruth and I danced while the other kids watched from a safe distance.

Our final stop was a Maritime museum, explaining the history of boat making in Turku, with examples of all sorts of boats, from very small to incredibly large. In the summer they have several large boats that you can explore for an extra ticket price, but we were still in the off season, and didn't have enough time anyway. We did get to climb in a few small boats, and see lots of cool boat and lighthouse and Finnish navy related stuff. The gift shop was small but fantastic. Everyone wanted all the things.

By the time we wrapped up and walked back to the harbor to check in for our cruise home, we were exhausted and collapsed on the floor of the waiting area till it was time to board.

~ Overall, this was a unique and cool experience. I'm glad we did it. Nathaniel is all jazzed up, thinking maybe he/we should do another one to a slightly more distant port. The short nights were definitely one of the most challenging part. Given our short remaining time in Sweden, I think it's very unlikely there's another cruise in our future unless he ends up going with Arthur while April and I hang out here in Stockholm when they visit in June. That said, he did rave about it so much that Liz and Whit, who arrived in Stockholm this past Wednesday, boarded a ship yesterday evening (Thursday) to Estonia for a quick cruise there and back. We'll see them again Saturday morning for the remainder of their visit!

Grona Lund (or, The Story of Courage Lost)

Do you guys love roller coasters?! Me, too! Or... well... I did. In a past life. My own past life, when I was in my teens and 20s. These days, I would rather not. Since we don't do a lot of amusement parks (we leave that to my parents, when the kids stay with them in the summer), it's seldom an issue. But today really drove the point home.

We spent the day at Grona Lund, courtesy of Grammy and Papa, who know their grandbabies LOVE a good thrill ride. It was wonderful, and I enjoyed nearly every minute of it, despite avoiding most of the thrills. Thankfully, Nathaniel is still out-adventuring them all. He and Ruth went on all the craziest rides. Meg would have been right there with them, if only she was a few centimeters taller!

Instagram cuts my writing too short, so hopefully you've already seen those pics, and I'm going to expound upon what I wrote there, and toss in a few extra things, but in bullet points because it's the fastest way to get the job done.

~ Grona Lund was awesome. Better than I'd imagined. I've spent my fair share of time in amusement parks, so my expectations for this little park on an island weren't super high, but it was fabulous! That said, the pricing is rough! It's not much to get IN to the park, but then you have to buy ride tickets or an armband, and those don't come cheap. Since this was a Christmas gift, we opted for the armbands and definitely got our money's worth. I can't imagine bringing kids without one, because they'd want to ride all the things, but you'd be constantly weighing whether that rides was worth the $3-10 (per person, per ride!). There was a "fun house" that the kids LOVED, and some of them went through it half a dozen times while we were there, but it definitely wouldn't have been worth $3 a go.

~ My five year old is braver than me. It's the honest truth. That girl wanted to do EVERYTHING. At one point, she and Meg basically dragged Peter and me to a roller coaster similar to the Patriot at Worlds of Fun (my best point of reference that many of you may be familiar with). It was the kind on which your legs dangle from the seat. It's smaller, though, and no upside down loops. I couldn't believe Rachel, at her 114cm, was even allowed on it, but she was. And she LOVED it. *I* was screaming (and laughing, which is my other scared/nervous auto-response) and she was just grinning and loving every minute of it! As soon as we were off, she wanted to get back in line.

~ My seven year old is... not. Braver than me. Poor Peter. He just doesn't love it. He WANTS to love it, but on every ride he's squinching his eyes shut and just manning up till it's over. We were on the Octopus together, and he had his eyes closed, taking deep breaths. I asked if he felt okay (heaven knows I don't want him getting sick!) and he said, "I feel okay. I'm just saying a little prayer..." Classic. He and I can hang out together while the girls go on the crazy rides with their dad. That said, he did like the dangly-foot roller coaster and went on it three times before the day was done, so he's ready for the Patriot, Dad! Maybe not the front row, but somewhere in the middle.

~ Pettson and Findus are dearly loved Swedish story book characters. We've read a few, and sent a couple to nephews for birthdays. I'm really loved the play area in their honor. We thought, at first, that it was just a little park and I was sort of put out that they'd charge a ticket for a playground. Then we saw that there was a whole house full of fun. Kids can open all the kitchen cupboards and find little scenes of bugs making homes, and mice cooking in the chimney. There are touch screen games hidden in the potato bin and the book on the coffee table. Dress up clothes, and tiny doors that let you into other rooms... a wall with a million random items attached to it, each that makes funny noises. A kid could have fun in there for an hour, at least! So cool.

~ I blame becoming a mother for my loss of bravery. That fits about right in the timeline - first kid at 26, slow decline of thrill-seeking from that point on. The point really was driven home on the swings that I showed on instagram. Not the super high tower swings - just the normal sort of carnival swings, that swept out over the beautiful water around Grona Lund. I took Meg, Peter, and Rachel on the ride. They were all seated in front of me, my swing just behind Rachel's. We had a bar across our laps with a strap that went between the legs. From the minute the swings took off, I couldn't take my eyes off Rachel. I couldn't stop picturing her falling out of the swing! I was literally talking myself out of a panic for nearly the whole ride - "Kids go on this ride all day, every day, and they're all fine. She can't fall out. She's fine. She's got her hands in the air and is laughing with glee, so clearly SHE doesn't feel afraid! Calm down. Breathe!" What is WRONG with me?! It was a swing. It was Rachel's FAVORITE thing of the day. But when they wanted to go back a second time, I told them they had to wait for Nathaniel to take them. I'm all Cougar from Top Gun over here; I've lost my edge.

~ I should give some thought to sunscreen now that it's spring. We were outside off and on all day in Finland, and now all afternoon at Grona Lund, and I haven't considered sunscreening my kids at all. It's not till we're home and I'm feeling that tight, warm feeling on my own cheeks that I realize I've been lax. I'm not sure whether the sun will burn as quickly here (or more quickly? surely not), but I probably can't ignore the risk altogether.

The kids head back to school tomorrow but have another long weekend coming up in just over a week. In the meantime, Liz and Whit will be here visiting, so we're not really slowing down. You can likely feel the sense of urgency creeping into our activities as our weeks here in Stockholm wind down. Seven weeks from tomorrow, we board our plane home! We are so excited to get home, but trying to make the most of our remaining time here! I think we're doing pretty well.

Royal flush

Oh boy. It's fitting that I posted for the first time in months yesterday, because TODAY I can't think of any other way to write about the day's experience, but it would have seemed lame to jump straight from Paris in October to this now at the end of January without ANY ramblings about day to day life stuff in between. Phew.

So, wow! Today! This will most definitely go down as one of the highlights of this year for me. I can't think how best to tell the story, so I'll opt for chronologically.

A few months back I heard that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge had announced a quick tour of Sweden and Norway in early 2018 and I've been all ears since.

A couple weeks ago I found the official dates of the visit, and a few days ago I located details on where Will and Kate, along with Sweden's Crown Princess Victoria and her husband, Prince Daniel, would officially be "greeting the people" and marked it on the calendar. Thanks to a few of you who chimed in on a fb question I posted to a friend considering whether it was reasonable to take the kids out of school for this occasion. I'm not sure what ever made me doubt that it would be!

Yesterday, I read a comment on a Stockholm FB group I'm in that led me to hunt down more specifics on the rest of their time here, and I discovered that, in addition to the crowd event in Gamla Stan today, Will and Kate were also making an appearance at Vasaparken - a park I've posted photos from several times, as it's in easy walking distance from our flat!! - to watch some kids play bandy. That was in the morning, and the kids didn't want to miss the whole school day for this, so I decided that Rachel and I would drop the kids at school, go to Vasaparken to try and catch a glimpse of the royals there, then pick the kids up at noon and head to Gamla Stan to stake out our position for the formal greeting event. 

YOU GUYS!!! If you didn't have a chance to see my instagram story already today, check it out before it disappears. If you missed it, you'll probably pick up on the general gist and giddiness here as well, so don't worry.

When Rachel and I arrived at the park, we could see they were cleaning the ice rink and clearly setting up for the event, but hardly anyone was around. We hung our for nearly an hour, watching police set up gates and taping off areas, and people drifted in and set up to watch. I had intended for us to go up the hill to play at the playground, but Rachel and I both were worried we might miss out on a good spot to watch from if we went so far away. (I'm not just saying that - I told Rachel we could go, but she was actually concerned about not seeing "the princess". It wasn't just me!) Just when Rachel began to get bored, a young woman came by offering free hot chocolate from a sweet backpack contraption called a "Huski". She told me it's a Swedish company/concept. She had the big box shaped pack filled with cocoa on her back (it said "choklad" down one side). On the front, on one side was a cup dispenser, and on the other was a cocoa spigot that she poured from. Excellent! 

Shortly after we got cocoa, crowds started arriving. Lots of middle school aged school groups, perhaps as much to see the bandy game as the royals? Unfortunately, at this point, Rachel was getting cold. I talked her into five more minutes, which, happily, was just enough! We were there just long enough to see Will and Kate arrive and walk on to the rink, but didn't stay to watch them take their turns hitting the bandy ball. They were far from us, despite our being right on the police tape line, so I used the real camera to snap a zoomed in shot to prove we saw them for real, in case that was the best we did, and we headed home to warm up before school pick up.

After pulling the kids from school, we walked home to drop off backpacks and, please let it be noted, I advised all the children to make sure they had two layers of pants, WARM SOCKS, all necessary gloves, hats, scarves, etc, and to please, please use the toilet. Praise the good Lord, no one needed to use the bathroom on this outing (possibly because I had second thoughts about the thermos of hot chocolate I had brought along, and ended up withholding it till we got home). Phew! God is good. ALL the time. But especially when no one needs a toilet in an impossible situation.

We arrived at Stortoget (literally: "big square") in Gamla Stan (literally: "old town" - the Swedish aren't always super creative in naming places) about an hour and a half before the expected walk of the royal couples from the palace (the same one we visited a few weeks back) to the Nobel Museum. I'd gone round and round about what a reasonable time to arrive would be, and this was perfection. We scored spots to stand in the front row along the rail, but within a few minutes the rail was full and people started filling in behind us. Viewers arrived slowly at first, and with the square mostly empty still, Meg asked, "Why did you get us out of school so early?!" to which I replied, "Look! If we'd been five minutes later you'd have seen nothing but people's backs." 

Unfortunately, an hour and a half was a long time to stand still in the 28 degree, clear day. The kids played games on their tablets for a while, or read books. We had snacks (but no cocoa... I kept putting them off a little longer each time someone asked). Nathaniel joined us with about 45 minutes left to wait (much to the chagrin of the people behind me who were hoping they'd have no one taller than me and a bunch of kids to try and look over). At that point, Meg was starting to complain about cold feet (literally), and was generally getting... sad. "I miss home" is the catch-all expression of sadness this year, understandably, but it was hard for me to sympathize when we were about to see ROYALTY. There's no royalty at home! I'm a great mom, I swear. But priorities, kid!! Peter was bored and tired and not really into the whole royalty-viewing-as-entertainment concept, so he was getting whiny as well. Rachel had some cold extremities, but was still super excited about being there, so manned up. Still, at one point, we had three kids whimpering and I have some doubts that any one around me would have voted me mom of the year for this whole adventure. I may have asked them to please cry more quietly so people around us wouldn't hear them. (Kidding! Probably. Maybe.)

Just when it seemed hopeless with the kiddos, we saw the photographers leading the royals around the corner. Meg was still crying, but Rachel was all sorts of smiles and READY to MEET a PRINCESS! Peter had dropped to the ground at our feet in frustration and grumpiness, and nothing we could say would coax him stand up and be seen. Victoria and William came around the corner first, with Kate and Daniel behind them, then they split into the correct couples to greet the crowd. And greet the crowd they did! I expected quick handshakes down the row, maybe? They seriously stopped and CHATTED with each person along the row, though. At least those of us, you know, IN FRONT. Ha! 90 minutes (and a day of prep to get us there) totally paid off!

Crown Princess Victoria and Prince Daniel came down the row first. Did I mention that I may have strongly encouraged Rachel and Meg to wear their earmuffs, as an obvious and easy conversation starter? So glad I did! Every one of the royals commented on them! Rachel was BEAMING. Meg wiped away her tears and pulled it together. Peter stayed crouched on the ground, hidden. Marianne and Ruth behaved with appropriately awed composure. Daniel asked how long we were here for. Victoria remarked on the cold and encouraged Rachel to dance to stay warm (as though she needed encouragement to dance!). The Swedish royals chatted but didn't shake hands. They were very sweet, though. Victoria is gorgeous. Her hair was in this beautiful twisted bun that Marianne admired. And she was wearing beautiful cranberry velvet boots and a matching clutch. Having a chance to see Victoria and Daniel in person became a personal goal of mine as soon as we determined we were moving to Sweden, so I am beyond thrilled with how it came to fruition! Actual conversation! 

And then! I mean... THE CAMBRIDGES! Nathaniel asked as we left whether we should perhaps be more excited about the Swedish royalty than the Brits, but I just can't. 

Prince. William. walked. right. up. to. us. and. crouched. down. and. talked. to. my. children.

I can't do the whole thing in periods after every word for emphasis, but that's how it sounds in my head and when I say it out loud, so just understand how I'm feeling, okay?

William for realz walked right up to us and said hello. Nathaniel remarked on our being visitors as well. William asked where from. We said Nebraska in the US. He said, Oh! Nathaniel suggested he visit some time. He said, "Yes! I'd love to! We have a great friend who lives in Pennsylvania..." and then we all laughed and I think it was clear that even he realized how absurd that sounded. I think I said something like, "Pretty close...". He talked to the girls about their earmuffs, noting that Meg's were pandas and asking Rachel if hers were bunnies. Then he shook all our hands. It was DREAMY! I shook the hand of the future KING OF ENGLAND, y'all. I've been over the moon all afternoon.

And we weren't done, because KATE!! Just as she walked up, Peter finally popped up to say hello. "Oh! Where did you come from?!" SAID KATE MIDDLETON, THE DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE, TO MY SON. That was accidental all-caps-ing, but I'm going to leave it there because it seems fitting.

Then she crouched down and asked Rachel her name, and talked to her about the earmuffs and the cold weather. And then she shook all our hands! 

I am beside myself. 

As soon as they passed on, Peter said, "Wow. Mom. She's soooo pretty." Truth! He's totally smitten.

With the excitement moving on down the line, Peter and Meg burst back into tears from the cold and tiredness, so we took our first opportunity to wedge our way out of the crush of onlookers. As soon as we broke free, promising the kids a quick trip to the warmth of the subway, a man walked up and introduced himself as a reporter with People magazine. When he asked where we were from and we said Nebraska, he said, "Ah. Then you're familiar with People?" Ha! He asked us a couple questions about what we'd talked about with the Duke and Duchess. We remarked on the earmuffs and he asked the earmuff wearers what they'd thought of it all, but Meg was too upset to make words and Rachel just grinned with the light of a thousand suns but gave no quotes. So. *I* ended up quoted in People's online coverage. It was a mix of things Nathaniel and I had said, and not actually quite anything either of us had said (it wasn't "bitter" cold... it was just too cold to stand around in for hours) but whatever. I'm immortalized on People magazine's website in an article about the British Royals visiting the Swedish Royals. Life accomplishment achieved! 

As the kids and I walked in the door to our flat and started to pull off all our gear, I honestly had to take a minute... I stopped and said, "Hey! Listen up, crew!" Actually, if we're being honest, I said that three or four times till I actually had their attention, then went on. "Thank you guys SO MUCH for this afternoon! I know we didn't do a perfect job of wearing warm enough socks, and it was crowded and boring most of the time. But THANK YOU! This meant a lot to me, and I really, truly believe that ten or twenty years from now... it'll mean a lot to you, too! You'll always be able to say that you've MET the Queen of Sweden and shaken hands with the King of England!!" I think at that point, once they were finally warm, it soaked in for them how cool it really was. Or maybe my giddiness finally wore off on them. Because everyone has cheered up and we've laughed about the whole experience all afternoon. 

One of my friends joked this afternoon "How fun! Now you can come home!" and obviously I'm not a plane yet or anything. But I am feeling very satisfied with this bit of the trip. Check. {happy sigh}

Links to instagram for photo reference - post one and post two.

Paris - the final installment

It's time to wrap this French adventure up, don't you think?

Tuesday was the final non-travel day of our trip. I'm so grateful our trip was extended beyond my original plan, or I'm sure this day-trip/pilgrimage to Rouen would have gotten scrapped after we lost time to the bed bug debacle of 2017, as it shall henceforth be known. Actually, no. That's not going to be the name. Probably it'll be something like, "Remember the bed bugs in Paris?!" in the vein of "remember the Alamo". On a recent quick trip for a conference, Nathaniel called me from his hotel and realized halfway through the conversation that he'd failed to immediately check for bed bugs! This will be a very real part of our travel routine going forward.

I digress. But let's be honest. I'll never talk about Paris again without digressing into bed bug jokes.

Tuesday! Actually back up a few hours to Monday night. On our way home post-Arc de Triumph, we had to wait ages for a train and learned that there'd been some incident and the RER (commuter train) line that serviced the station by our hotel would be heavily affected that night. The problem was at the far end of the line from us, so we were able to get home, but we knew there could be residual issues come morning. Sure enough, there were!

We waited ages for the first RER toward the city to arrive, the platform loading up with people, and when it did arrive, you could see it was PACKED to the gills. Nathaniel was encouraging me to move forward and just cram on, but I had terrible visions of only part of the family managing to get aboard and us getting separated. It hardly mattered, because I don't think more than one human body managed to smoosh itself into that sardine can when the doors opened. Ten minutes later or so, another train arrived. This time I knew we were dangerously close to missing our train to Rouen, so I grabbed the hands of two little people and shoved my way in. Happily, I managed to find a pocket of space off to one side. It was very... cozy, to be sure. But we all made it on. When we got off and half-ran the maze of the subway to the train station, though, we were losing hope. It was a few minutes past the departure time for our train and we didn't know how to find the platform we needed. We were just about to turn toward some ticket booths to ask for help when I spotted the train number on a sign at a platform with a train still in it! I ran toward it and flagged down an employee to make sure they saw us coming. Phew! We were late, but so were they. God is good!

There is nothing like starting your day with a mad dash through the Paris subway and train stations, believe me!

~ We stopped in the most beautiful bakery in Rouen to get coffees. Their display case was gorgeous, filled macarons and choux in rainbow assortments, as well as a huge variety of croissants with flavored fillings. It was dreamy!

~ We enjoyed our pastries and coffee at a park with a playground, so of course when it was time to move on, the younger crew burst into tears as though they believed we'd traveled two hours by train just to play at a new playground.

~ The Church of St Joan of Arc is just... really ugly from the outside. Inside, while it's still not to my architectural taste, it was wonderfully peaceful and simple. Stained glass and bright open space. And a beautiful abstract statue of Joan that I loved! I could have spent a long time resting in silence there (except, you know, kids).

~ A towering cross in the gardens outside the church marks the place where Joan was burned for heresy. The whole day was a strange mix of fun, touristy activity, and trying to wrap our heads around the beautiful/horrible story of this girl who died in the service of God and country. A lot of emotional highs and lows.

~ On the other side of the Church of St Joan there's a grassy park area with low stone walls that are the ruins of an old castle. The churches all closed from noon till 2pm, so we spent most of that time in this park, the kids running and leaping along the walls. Only one minor injury was incurred.

~ We walked through an open air market in search of lunch and were reminded that Rouen is near the sea - all manner of fresh fish and seafood were for sale! There was a tuna the size of Rachel in one ice chest. Also, a bowl of tiny, whole fish, battered and fried, for sale by the pound, beady little eyes staring out from under the breading. Hungry yet? We ended up ordering takeaway pizza from a restaurant and eating it in the park by the church. Nathaniel is always disappointed in the rest of the family's lack of gastronomic adventurousness.

~ The city of Rouen, from the little bit we walked through it from one religious site to another, was darling. It's "the heart of Normandy" or some such, so gets a lot of tourism. I wish we'd had more time to wander through the ancient streets and soak it up. The buildings and cobblestone streets are just so charming and old.

~ We were in Rouen on Halloween. Our kids were very chill when I told them we were essentially skipping Halloween this year. No one put up much of a fuss, though there was a lot of discussion of what they want to be next year. It was interesting to see, though, that there were kids trick-or-treating in Rouen, midday, through the shops! The costumes all were of a gruesome nature. Even the girls dressed in princess dresses tended to have ghoulish face paint. One small child, maybe four years old, dressed as a very passable Chucky from Child's Play cracked me up (and creeped me out) since obviously a parent had come up with that idea.

~ Oh boy, you guys. The Cathedral of Notre Dame in Rouen... words cannot describe this church. I'm not usually a fan of overly ostentatious design, but you can't help but be in awe of the beauty of the Cathedral when you see it, and even more so when you go inside. Old Gothic, late Gothic, "flamboyant" gothic, indeed. I cannot imagine how someone could dream up this plan, and even less so how it could be executed. Around the exterior of the main church are numerous side chapels honoring various saints, including, of course, a large one for St. Joan. Nathaniel found the Cathedral especially moving, and spent a long time moving slowly through it after the kids and I had moved on to soaking up sun (three girls and me) and chasing pigeons (the little two) in the square in front of the church.

~ Our last stop in Rouen was the Historial Jeanne d'Arc, a museum housed in the archiepiscopal palace in which Joan actually stood trial. It's an audio/visual tour from room to room, with a presentation of projected images in each, telling the story of the trial from perspectives of various historical players of the time. We had to leave as the presentation ended in order to catch our train, so didn't have time to explore the rest of the museum, but it was a really interesting concept, and for the most part kept the kids' attention. It was very moving. Tears may have been shed...

*****

Since All Saints' Day is a holy day at home, in Sweden, and in France, we figured we'd better do our best to find a mass that we could feasibly attend before catching our airport van. I was ready to give up, after the first few nearby churches showed their only masses offered too late in the morning, but Nathaniel found one within a reasonable bus trip from our hotel, offering mass in a mix of Portuguese and French. Because, why not? It was interesting! There was a lot of processing with candles that I couldn't follow the meaning of. Then, when the gifts were carried up, several people also brought up baskets filled with sliced and torn pieces of bread, that were placed in front of the altar. After communion the baskets were retrieved, and on the way out of mass, women were standing at the door encouraging everyone to take some, I guess to eat right then? We took a few, and the sweet little women pressed the kids and us to take more. Grandmas are pretty much the same in every culture, no?

*****

The trip home was mostly uneventful. If felt good to get "home" to Sweden. It has made me appreciate how well we've settled into life here, and learned to navigate our surroundings, after a week of being newbies in a city again. Simple things like understanding how the cross walks work, and knowing where to find a nearby grocery store, are a huge relief.

There are a million small things about the trip to Paris that I'm sure I've already forgotten because it took me a month to take notes. The chiming music that played as a train approached, that reminded us of the Harry Potter theme from the movies. The way the recorded voice on the trains always changed tone from the "approaching" to "arriving" announcements, and Marianne and I would laugh about it and mimic it to each other ("Val de Fontennay" and "Bry sur Marne" among our favorites). The handfuls of "kaboom berries" the kids stuffed in their pockets to ambush each other with on the walk from the hotel to the train each morning. The bag of groceries Ruth left on the train ("the only thing we lost in Paris"), that a kind gentleman chased us down to give back.

We bought almost no souvenirs - just the kids' "5 for 1€" eiffel tower keychains, a Joan of Arc coffee mug for Ruth, and a rosary Marianne bought at Notre Dame (in Paris), but we have so many great memories that we'll carry with us always. "We'll always have (bed bugs in) Paris!"

More Paris!

A couple weeks have flown by, and... where were we?! Ah, Sunday in Paris. We decided to hit Paris's major churches, for mass and site-seeing, and spend the day soaking up God's splendor. We were not disappointed!

For once, we were EARLY for our planned arrival for mass at Notre Dame, so had time to for a quick stop at a cafe for pastries and a bathroom break, and still made it into the Cathedral in time for morning prayer before mass (and plenty of time to meet our fasting obligation). We'd chosen the Gregorian chant mass, so that parts of it would sound familiar even if we couldn't follow the French. It was beautifully executed. And of course the surroundings are hard to beat! Notre Dame is stunning! None of our photos can possibly do it justice, though we took many. (Nathaniel said he may take time one of these days to come back and insert photos into my blog posts. He'd love me to include them myself, now, but I know if I add that to the to-do of posting, it will truly never get done.)

After mass, we took our time walking around the Cathedral and appreciating each of the side chapels. I cannot wrap my head around the antiquity, magnitude, and beauty of these old European churches! Notre Dame Cathedral is nearly a thousand years old! And yet, without all the mechanized equipment of today, people built it! By hand! For love of God! Mind blowing stuff.

We've made a habit of lighting candles for our godchildren at each of the churches we visit, asking God's blessings for each them. We also lit a candle near a statue of St. Thérèse and asked her intercession on behalf of our parish community at home. This was a big day for candle lighting! That's handy when you have five kids who fight over who gets to light the candle all the time (you get a candle! you get a candle! you ALL get candles!).

We left the Cathedral and crossed the street to try out one of the public toilets I'd read about in my guide book. I feel like I already talked about these, so sorry if it's a repeat. The toilets are brilliant, because they're self-cleaning. When the door closes behind one patron, it locks, and the whole interior is washed and dried. Then the door unlocks and the next person can enter. However, the cleaning process is s-l-o-w! And if you didn't know better, and couldn't read French, I can't imagine what would stop you from grabbing the open door from the person exiting, heading in, and suddenly being locked in a self-washing room and getting soaked! I was grateful I'd read a warning about this in the book. The long time between one person exiting and the next being allowed to enter makes it hard to resist sneaking in. Also, once you realize the system, you seriously rethink whether it's worth waiting in a line of any length for one of these toilets, versus purchasing a cup of coffee at a café and using the toilet there.

During our 45 minute bathroom break, several heavily armed camo-wearing men walked up and waited outside a large door near us (a hospital, per the map?), where they were joined by several more equally heavily armed men from inside. They chatted and laughed for a while, then the ones from outside went in and the ones from inside walked toward Notre Dame. A changing of the guard, I suppose. It's jarring to see these armed police (military?) on the street of Paris, but I suppose it's comforting, in a way, as well.

We wandered near Notre Dame and found our charming fresh crepe lunch that I mentioned in the prior "Paris" post. So fun to watch the older gentleman pouring and smoothing the crepes on the rotating pan, and loading them up with nutella or jam or lemon sugar. Mmmmm. Don't mind me, just drooling as I type.

After getting tickets assigning us a time to tour the towers for Notre Dame, we walked a few soggy blocks away to Sainte-Chapelle. Coming from Sweden, where the original old Catholic churches were all turned into Church of Sweden facilities, and the new ones lack the beauty of old architecture, these churches were a breath of fresh air in their glory. Sainte-Chapelle was amazing. I can only imagine how much more so it would have been on a sunny day with light pouring through the floor to ceiling stained glass.

We made a silly but necessary detour on our way back to Notre Dame to buy new shoes for Peter and Rachel. Granted, they are walking and running A LOT, and playing hard, but I was disappointed at how quickly the shoes I'd purchased at Zara had torn through. I was going to push through this trip and find new ones in Sweden, but the night prior, both children had shown me actual gaping HOLES in the soles of their shoes. The pouring rain made it impossible to put off buying something new. In fact, it forced me to buy new socks, as well, since I hadn't thought to pack an extra pair in my bag that morning, and no mom is going to have her kid put a soggy wet sock into a brand new pair of tennis shoes. Nasty! In fact, I couldn't bring myself to have them put the socks back on their feet once they took them off to try on shoes at H&M, so I had them hang out barefoot in the kids' department while I went and made the purchase, then handed them each fresh socks and shoes to put on immediately. Somewhat ridiculously, I then hauled gross wet socks and shoes around with me all day rather than tossing them in the nearest trash can. I had a lot on my mind... I can't be expected to think everything through clearly.

Finally, we were back to Notre Dame for the tower tour. It was well worth it! The climb up the stairs was long and exhausting, even for seasoned stair climbers like us, but the views at the top were breathtaking! The long distance views of the city were rivaled only by the close up views of the gargoyles. The kids loved it!

The day had gone by more quickly than I'd anticipated, and I was second guessing including Sacré-Cœur. Nathaniel was all in, though, so after the kids chased pigeons around the square outside Notre Dame, we grabbed some Subway, refilled our water bottles, and headed back onto the metro.

Sidenote: We purchased five-day metro passes that cost more than our airfare, so that we could take the trains and metros freely. I think it was definitely the right move for us, given that we stayed in zone 4, and had to take an "RER" train into the city each day. We bought them at the suburban train station, and the woman selling them to us looked appalled at the amount we were spending when I told her what we wanted. She stopped and ran through several other possible metro-pass scenarios (that I'd already considered on a spreadsheet back home) before determining grudgingly that they probably were the best option. Clearly they don't get as many week-visit-tourists at her station as the ones in the city, who I'm sure wouldn't have batted an eye at the cost.

The passes were tiny cardstock tickets, maybe .75" x 1.25". We had to use them going into the train/metro stations, and often exiting as well. If we lost one, there was no way to get a replacement. From the minute we bought them, we were hyper vigilant about keeping track of them. I was nearly as worried about them being pick-pocketed as anything else but our passports. As we entered a station, I'd get them out and hand them around ("tickets! tickets! get your tickets here!"); as soon as we'd passed through the gates, I'd gather them all back, counting off as kids handed them to me. The kids would laugh about who they were, based on the name on each ticket, because I didn't pay attention to names when I handed them out. Even Rachel had to scan her ticket and pass through the turnstiles on her own. The fact that we managed to keep track of all seven tickets for all five days was nothing short of a miracle. Phew!

The approach to Sacré-Cœur is impressive. The church is on a high hill top in the city, with a path winding up to various terraced levels, each a better photo opp than the last. At the street level, you may recall, there was a carousel. There are carousels all over Paris, actually. I'm not the kind of mom who decides on a whim to say yes to requests for things like carousel rides - we're on a budget, you know - but I actually intended to let the kids ride a carousel at some point, and this one was charming. Looking up the daunting hillside climb to the church, it seemed like the perfect reward when we came down. So I said yes. Yes! We'll ride the carousel after we visit the church. {sigh} You know where this will end, but onward to Sacré-Cœur!

We did not read up about Sacré-Cœur before visiting, beyond reading that it was a must see. Was it ever! It's much newer than other churches we visited - opened in 1914 - but beautifully done. No photos are allowed as there is perpetual adoration, well, perpetually. For a hundred years! I can't even wrap my head around that. We spent a few minutes in peaceful, quiet prayer, then explored the church and soaked in the art and architecture and overall sacredness (and lit more candles - we're praying for you, godchildren!).

We meandered back down the hill toward the carousel, only to find the ultimate disappointment - the sun had set and they had closed for the evening. Rachel was inconsolable. That's what I get for saying yes. We made all sorts of carousel promises for the next day, crossing our fingers we wouldn't have to spend an arm and a leg to make it happen, spent a ridiculous amount of time hunting down a grocer where we could snag some dinner food, and headed home.

*****

The next day, in addition to a carousel, we had promised the kids a low key morning. We'd been going, going, going, and stress levels were high. The little kids wanted a day to hang around the hotel and do nothing, which we weren't willing to do, but we did opt to take the morning slowly. Since most museums are closed on Mondays, we decided to return to the Eiffel Tower and walk the stairs. We had planned to walk to the second level then take the elevator to the top, but it was cold and windy, the kids were whiny*, and the elevator kept alternating between closed and having a long wait, so we scratched the elevator and got hot chocolate on the viewing deck instead. Winning!

*We'd had another lunch where we had to walk further than expected to find food and toilets. When we finally took food a park, Peter wanted to stay at the park and skip the Eiffel Tower completely. You'd have thought we were forcing him to leave the park to go to the dentist the way he cried and threw a fit. Traveling with kids is nothing if not a lesson in humility.

All the time we were having lunch and waiting to climb the tower, and on the tower, Rachel kept asking about her carousel ride. When? When? When? and saying "No! Not after! It will be closed if we go after!" You can hardly blame her, I suppose. As soon as we were back on the ground, we headed toward the carousel nearest the Eiffel Tower, and thank heaven! It was running. They even had a package deal for SEVEN tickets. Fate, I tell you. We all climbed on board. The joy on Rachel's face was tangible (see instagram).

Because one can never climb enough stairs, we decided to jump on the metro and climb the Arc de Triomphe, as well! I wasn't really sure what to expect from the giant arch in the traffic circle, but it was really lovely! I'm so glad we tacked it on to the day! (Somewhat hilariously, I had thought I'd seen the Arc de Triomphe when I visited Paris in college... but in retrospect, I think what I saw was a different arch celebrating a different triumph, that's near the Louvre. Turns out there are triumphal arches all around the city.)

*****

This has gotten long, so I'll post for now and plan one more entry to wrap up France.

Paris - the Triumph (and I don't just mean the Arc d')

I can't believe it's taken me this long to get back to my blog and try to record notes on the awesome stuff that happened in Paris, though I'm sure I'll always enjoy a good (horrified) laugh when I read the previous post. A couple weeks ago Ruth began reading through my blog from the very start. It has both made me very anxious (what did I write? did I say anything too embarrassing about her? did I spill any great parenting secrets - hello, Santa! glad she's already in on that one - that will get me in trouble?) and very nostalgic. She keeps coming to show me bits and pieces that make her laugh or reminisce or even cry. All in all, it has motivated me to want to write more, because looking back through it all has reminded me why I keep this online journal in the first place! What better place to jump back in to writing than Paris?!

Huge successes of our Paris adventure:

* We do not appear to have brought any creepy crawlies home with us.
* We DID manage to bring all five children home with us.
* We NEVER LOST ANY OF THEM! Not on subways or long staircases or crowded lines. Not even in crazy public toilets. If anything screams success, it's keeping track of all your children during a week of vacation in a foreign city.
* We didn't have to pay any extra fees for broken rules on our crazy cheap RyanAir flights.

I have no idea how to go about sharing all the amazing memories from the epic trip or where to begin. Here goes...

*****

The first night we made it into the city of Paris proper, to the Eiffel Tower, I just knew all was going to be well. The kids were tired and grumpy, but the sight of the tower, even after we realized we were too late to climb the stairs that night, was inspiring and motivating, and then it started sparkling! I knew it did that, but we hadn't been paying attention to the clock so it surprised us all, and truly is awe-inspiringly beautiful. Crepes for dinner after was really the treat we all needed to fuel us for the days of site-seeing ahead. Rachel found great comfort in the knowledge that nutella would be plentiful in the city. Nathaniel ordered me a kir royale. Cheers!

*****

Let's talk more about eating. With a large family. In Paris. I am incredibly grateful for the gorgeous weather we had throughout the trip, because picnics were not just a quaint, lovely option, but a near necessity for us in order to afford food. The whole "year abroad" thing is expensive to start with, and while I consider it mandatory that we make a few great trips while we're in Europe, we can't afford to go wild and we're trying hard not to put ourselves in debt beyond the next couple tax refunds. While part of me definitely wishes we could have dined on escargot at fancy French restaurants a time or two, or sipped a glass of wine at a sidewalk café, I'm content to be giving the kids the experience on a "baguettes and brie with a demi-bottle of wine on the banks of the Seine" budget instead. (Also, I'm lying about the escargot. Tried it once, don't need it again.) All that said, sometimes it was difficult even to find our picnic supplies! The "Paris with kids" tour guide I'd read made it sound like there were markets and bakeries around every corner, but more than once we found ourselves wandering frustratingly long and far looking for somewhere to grab a fresh loaf of bread and a bottle of Orangina for the kids. (Funnily, this was one of my strongest memories of Paris from college. I went for a quick weekend visit with a roommate while studying in London. We had visions of crepe stands on every corner, and instead found ourselves wandering the city, unable to find anything to eat the first night we were there! That was irritating as a college student. When you're leading five hungry kids, repeating the refrain "We'll eat in a just a few minutes, as soon as we find a bakery!" it's way worse.) We ate American fast food an embarrassing number of times, both because a McDonalds, Subway, or KFC is almost always easy to locate (the KFC surprised me!), they have bathrooms on site, and they're affordable. Fun surprise - French happy meals are cheap and come with a TON of stuff! Different potato options or cherry tomatoes, a bonus fruit dessert (peach smoothie, berry applesauce or a wedge of pineapple as opposed to just apple slices). It really was a lot of food for the money. When you're feeding kids on a budget... well... what can I say? Every day tended to end up with breakfast in our hotel kitchenette - cereal, pastries, etc. - followed by one very french picnic or street vendor meal, and one very American fast food meal, with some snacks thrown in for good measure. Tummies stayed full (except during those bakery hunts), mostly with foods decadent enough Nathaniel made jokes about our risk of developing gout during a single week, and we didn't break the bank.

A couple more quick notes on the food:
- nearly every bakery from which we ordered coffee had a push button coffee/espresso/cocoa machine rather than a barista. That surprised me. However, since the hotel had an electric kettle but no coffee maker (?!) and we hadn't thought to pack our filter cones, we were drinking instant coffee at the hotel and anything was an improvement on that.
- the kitchen at the hotel also had only mediocre knives, so slicing the dried sausages (or even the cucumbers) for lunch was challenging. Nathaniel's an expert with a lightly serrated butter knife now.
- pre-prepping some picnic foods was critical, because there's only so much you can do while sitting on the river bank or in the ruins of a castle next to the Chapel of St. Joan of Arc, and since your bag might have to go through security at a museum, you can't carry real knives with you.
- I'd forgotten how delicious Orangina is. Mmmmmm.
- how I wish it hadn't poured rain on us while we waited on our lunch from the little shop next to Notre Dame. That was one of the tastiest meals we ate - quiche and freshly made crepes and hot wine - and I wish it hadn't been consumed so awkwardly or in such haste.

*****

I believe we approached site-seeing with children with just the right attitude. The guide book I mentioned above was helpful with suggestions for realistic times you could spend at various sites before kids would get bored. In general, we approached it all knowing that, while we wanted to see the museums and landmarks of Paris, the little kids' attention spans would be nil, and even the older kids could only spend so long looking at art. Things like climbing huge flights of stairs to get great views of the city (and close up views of gargoyles) or exploring expansive gardens and rowing boats on the water were much more likely to be successes.

The day we visited the Musée d'Orsay and the Louvre... I could have spent all day wandering each one. But even the room full of the most famous Monets and Degases couldn't hold their attention for more than a passing minute Not even when I pointed out "the ballerinas from your Olivia book!" (A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.) I pointed things out anyway, saying, "You're not excited about this now, but someday you'll be proud to say you've seen this painting in person." And then we went on our merry way and fed baguette crumbs to ducks and made up songs about Latvian goats, because that's how we roll. We did spend a long time sitting in front of the enormous painting of The Wedding at Cana that's in the same room as the Mona Lisa at the Louvre, but that was mostly because we were exhausted from all the walking that day and there was an open space on the floor. You can get away with sitting on the floor at the Louvre for a long time if it appears you're appreciating a work of art. The painting really was stunning, though, and our little rest in front of it gave us time to notice fun details like the number of dogs peeking out here and there. The guide book suggested a super quick three stop tour of the Louvre for small children. The third stop was in Egyptian artifacts, and we spent all morning motivating Peter and Rachel to keep walking with the promise of mummified cats in their future. Wouldn't you know, we were there on Friday, and it turns out the Egyptian artifacts wing is closed on Fridays. What are the chances?

*****

The visit to Versailles began with a long wait in line even though we had tickets in advance. I cannot imagine what it must be like in the high season! By the time we entered the palace, kids were already getting antsy. We toured at a break-neck pace (often leaving Nathaniel behind and assuming he'd find us eventually), but it was still fabulous. We made up stories about the people who lived in the rooms, and the kids claimed rooms that they'd each designed ("I designed the ceiling in this room. Do you like it?!"). We oohed and aahed over all the absurd luxuriousness, and the hall of mirrors didn't disappoint. Mostly they wanted to get out to the gardens to roam. When we finally got there, the kids were starving and ready to find a place to sit and have a picnic, but we discovered it was their special last day of fountains and music and you had to buy extra tickets to tour the gardens. {sigh} We could hardly skip it at that point, and it was a really beautiful afternoon. We had one "can we just go home...?" grumbler all afternoon, but for the most part, we all enjoyed discovering what was around the next row of hedges or through the next arch of trees, and everyone enjoyed Nathaniel's impromptu row boat rental. We weren't necessarily planning to stay till the end of the water/music displays, but when we were finishing our walk and it was only 15 minutes till the last listed display, we figured why not? We joined hundreds of other visitors sitting on the banks of Neptune's Fountain, awaiting the final "show", only listed once for the day, from something like 5:20-5:27pm. Anticipation was in the air. At 5:20, the fountains started up, and... just ran for 7 minutes then turned off. No music. No choreography like we'd seen at some of the other locations that had things going every 10 or 15 minutes. Everyone watching seemed similarly confused and let down. One couple from the US seated near us suggested that perhaps the huge fountain can't run when the others are, from a water pressure standpoint, so they only run it for a few minutes at the end? It seems like as good an explanation as any.

As we were walking toward the exit along with throngs of other visitors, we spotted the most adorable little boy. He was perhaps three years old, and he was pushing an umbrella stroller, calling out in his little French voice "Mama? Papa? Attendez..." (Mama? Papa? Wait...) He didn't seem especially upset, but there were no adults near him. I saw a few other adults watching and waiting, and we slowed our pace, keeping an eye on him. Sure enough, within a couple minutes, a man came running from further ahead with the look of panic only a parent who's misplaced a child can wear. The little boy was one of several children in the family; my heart went out to them. It could happen to anyone, but you know they felt like the worst parents in the world in that moment. The vision of the little guy pushing his own stroller along - it still makes me grin.

*****

I have loads more anecdotes to share, so I'll call this part one and post it. I've had it open all day and it's time for bed here.

Paris - the traumatic

Well! We're over 10 weeks into this wild ride that is "sabbatical", and just completed the first of what we hope will be a few excursions into other parts of Europe. Destination one, as I assume you've all seen on instagram, was Paris! Meg had her heart set on Paris for no reason in particular, and it was one of the main cities I hoped to take the family, second only to Rome (which we'll do in the Spring, we hope). I did most of the travel planning in mid-September, lining up flights on Europe's super cheap airline, RyanAir, for a song, even after you added on the cost of the bus from Stockholm to the further-away airport RyanAir uses, and the Super Shuttle from the equally distant airport in France to the suburb of Paris we were staying in. I found accommodations on AirBnB. It was my first time using AirBnB, and I was a little nervous, but found an apartment with several good reviews that suited our family size and was quite affordable. So much so, that when I went to book the RyanAir flight and discovered prices had changed so it would be much cheaper for us to fly back two days later, the cost of lodging was low enough that I tacked on the extra time! In retrospect, I am SO GLAD we had those extra days! Because...

Well, I hardly know where to begin. We checked into the apartment and it was... fine. Really, it was a nice enough space for our needs. The neighborhood was, um, okay. Not great, but okay. But when we searched for groceries and restaurants to find some lunch (we'd been up since 3am, you'll recall, and we checked in around noon), they were all a pretty serious hike away. Through a park. Which sounds nice, until it turns out the walk through the park is lovely but is not actually real paths, and they're not lit, so my mind is racing with the fact that if we're coming home from Paris at night it's not a walk I'd want to make. But we're keeping our cheer up, and plotting our path to the "nearby" train station (per the ad) and figuring things out. We walked back after lunch along the road, rather than through the park, and it was loooonnng, and the road was sort of secluded and I was a little anxious about that at night as well. So I figured out some options for buses from a different train stop and we were still keeping our moods up and making our plans and Nathaniel was talking me down from feeling like maybe I'd failed at this whole planning thing. The kids were having fun playing with the huge playmobil collections in one room, then playing at the playground while I made some dinner and then we started getting everyone into bed.

After kids were settled, we talked through some plans for morning, and I took a quick look into the bathroom, mentally planning what time I'd get up to shower before we left. I saw a small bug in the tub and nearly ignored it. I'd seen cockroach poison under the sink, and while I hate the nasty things, this one was small and I get that they live in the world, you know? And in a big apartment building like this... it would be tough to avoid entirely. After a moment of hesitation, I went to get some tissue (the toilet was in a separate room from the bath and sink) and killed the bug. Then, on a whim and a funny feeling, I took it in and said to Nathaniel, "there was a cockroach in the tub. I killed it. It is a cockroach right, and not a bed bug or something? ha ha ha!" and showed it to him.

And that, my friends, is when the whole night went haywire.

Because it WAS a bed bug. In the bath tub.

Which, honestly, I consider a straight up gift from God to save us from so much potential additional trouble had we not spotted one so early.

Nathaniel was my hero through the entirety of this story. He took one look at the flat smashed bug on the tissue, said, "I think that is a bed bug.", hit up the image on google and was up moving in a flash. (Quick back story, because everyone we've told this story to so far says, "Wait. How did you know what a bed bug looks like?" A few years ago, there was a weird incident where Nathaniel found a bug in office at work that he thought was a bed bug. The university took it very seriously, sent the bug to UNL's entomology department, and it turned out to be a bat bug, which looks identical except under a microscope. Since there are bats in Nathaniel's building, that made sense. And Nathaniel is now very familiar with the look of a bed bug.) We grabbed a flashlight from my suitcase and headed into the little kids' room. It had a bunk bed and a trundle. We checked Rachel's bed on the trundle first, because it was easiest, and didn't see any bugs. Taking a deep breath, feeling relieved, we moved to Meg's top bunk. I cannot even express how awful this got you guys... We spotted one on the bed, then one in the indention where a screw head is set into the wood in the frame of the bed,

then another on the other side, then Nathaniel spotted one ON THE WALL. Not even on the bed, y'all. What's it doing on the WALL?! At that point, Nathaniel's grabbing Meg out of the bed and carrying her to the big sofa/bed in the living room where I'm trying to comfort this recently woken girl, and one FALLS OFF HER NIGHTGOWN onto the sheet on the sofa bed. So I'm stripping Meg to get her in clean clothes while Nathaniel's bringing the other littles in and waking the big girls to get them out of their bed. He killed several that had already, um, fed. Which is so gross to think about. And we're gathering clothes and shaking every little thing out. We didn't see any in the sofa bed in the living room or the bed in the older girls' room. They seemed primarily to be in the little kid room, but there were SO MANY. At very first we'd considered how we'd sleep everyone in other rooms till morning, but after what we were seeing we knew we just could not.

I texted the owner at 10:50pm for the first time, letting him know about this problem and that we were figuring out what to do. Nathaniel and I set to looking for hotels nearby that we could move to without blowing our entire budget. Nathaniel made calls to a few we found, and never did I know I'd be so incredibly grateful for the French he learned from his grandparents and during high school. Every where he called, they spoke only French (or at least, did not speak English) so he was having to strain to communicate, but he was able to get his message across. This became an even bigger issue once we had found a hotel with two open rooms (because of course none of them had rooms large enough to accommodate all seven of us in one) and he moved on to trying to find a taxi service. At this point it was midnight. He started calling taxis companies, asking for a van. But we're so far out of the city that no company wants to send a car that far for the short trip to the hotel without charging us loads extra to begin the trip. One company said no problem, but he had to input the request online. He did so, got a confirmation that it was all set, then 10 minutes later got a call saying nevermind, they couldn't find a driver after all.

While Nathaniel was making calls, the kids were all sitting up playing around on tablets and eating leftover baguette from dinner, whatever I could do to keep them calm. I was gathering all our belongings, shaking them out, looking them over for any sign of anything that might move. Everyone had changed out of their pajamas, and I tied up all the dirties and everything that had been in the littles' room in trash bags into one suitcase to be washed asap. We combed out everyone's hair and looked over bodies. I was beside myself. Not just for US but for the hotel we were headed to, for the owners of our flat in Stockholm. For a million reasons I was NOT going to take any hitchhikers with us from this apartment. Oh, and then I coached the kids on how they absolutely could NOT mention the words "bed bugs" where anyone else could hear it once we left the apartment. I could totally envision hotels denying us service if they knew why we were moving in the middle of the night.

In the end, after literally hours of calls and waiting, one cab company sent one car that took Nathaniel and three of the kids, then came back for me and the other two. By the time we got the hotel, figured out their automated check in system, and were able to rest our heads on pillows, it was 3:15am. We had been up nearly nonstop for over 24 hours.

And the fun didn't stop there. We still had to form a plan for the rest of our stay in Paris. If we were going to pay hotel prices, this was not the part of town I wanted to stay in - it turned out the hotel we'd found was in an air park or some kind of industrial area, as well as being in a fairly far out suburb. After a few hours of sleep, Nathaniel in one room with the three littles, me in another room with Marianne and Ruth, we reconvened in the breakfast nook to talk options. The gentleman running the desk was incredibly kind and chatted with us in broken English, helping us figure out how to get to the bus to the nearest train when we needed, etc. I hunted expedia and other sites for last minute hotel deals. Thankfully, I managed to find one in a different suburb that turned out to be so much better suited to us. We booked it, and by about noon we were waiting on a bus to a train to our third living space in Paris.

Of course, through all of this, I was also exchanging communications with our AirBnB host. I will say that he was courteous through all of it, and I feel for him, having to deal with this, but I was obviously frustrated as well. He admittedly openly, immediately, when I mentioned the problem, that he knew they'd had issues before, but that he'd paid a company to take care of it was very sorry to hear they were still there. Somewhat unbelievably to me, he held throughout the whole ordeal that we could continue to stay in the apartment, that the bugs were only in the one room, and he would have the company back first thing in the morning, and by the time we were done sight-seeing in Paris that day, the bugs would be gone and we could be safely back in?! I can't even wrap my head around that. Who would have magically laundered all the bedding? How would we have any assurance that more wouldn't show up?! Is it even theoretically possible that an apartment could be rid of bed bugs during a four hour extermination period?

I told him we would definitely make other arrangements and he agreed to refund all of the cost "except the AirBnB fee and cleaning fee", but by then I'd reported the issue to AirBnB as well, just to be safe, and they refunded me 100% of what I had paid almost immediately. The only lingering issue now is a 100 euro key deposit we paid at the time of check in, but he has agreed to wire that money as well, so I'm hopeful we'll end up with all our money back. I have not yet written a review on AirBnB and I'm torn... of course part of me wants to write a review, explaining how nice the host was but that THERE WERE BED BUGS. Because heaven knows if I'd read that I'd never have booked it. But then part of me hears him saying, "We thought it was taken care of. The woman who cleaned it the day prior saw nothing. We'll take care of it." and "Bed bugs, unfortunately, are epidemic in the Paris area". And I don't want to ruin his AirBnB career forever. Because it would, wouldn't it? I mean, how would he ever rent it again with a "bed bug" review on the link? I hope for his sake and his children's that he HAS gotten it taken care of... and I'd like him to be able to find renters once he has. Nathaniel says I'm being entirely too nice.

Throughout the whole crazy night and next day - and even the day after that when I was finally able to open my hermetically sealed, trash-bagged suitcase of clothes, shake them all out again and wash them on HOT, examining every tiny crevice of the suitcase, just in case - we were able to laugh. Because THIS! This will be a story that will go down in family lore. This will be a forever joke. "Remember the bed bugs in Paris?!?!"

"Good night, sleep tight, don't let..." "NO! I can't even say it now!"

This was memories in the making, for better and worse.

Do I wish we hadn't had the whole ordeal? OF COURSE. But, part of me thinks it was a godsend. The hotel we moved to was so much better for us! I didn't realize till we arrived that the hotel room that "sleeps 8" was actually an apartment in a long-term stay type hotel. It had three bedrooms on two floors, a living and dining area, a small (ill equipped but functional) kitchen, two baths/showers and two toilets. It was an easy five minute walk around the corner, on well lit streets, to the commuter train station. The trains were fancy double decker things, because it was a busy line (that ended at Disneyland Paris, though we never went that far), so the kids thought it was cushy and fun, and a nice 20 minutes to play games on their tablets at the start and end of each day. There was laundry on site. We even had a little gated yard in front of the apartment that the kids used daily to blow off steam, picking "poison berries" from the bushes and pelting each other with them.

So. Well. There you have it. The first two days of the trip were a bit of a nightmare. But by the second evening, we were standing in front of the Eiffel Tower watching it sparkle and we were back on track to enjoy our vacation. We got back all of our initial housing money, and though we spent more on the place we settled, it was much better suited to our needs. I have washed all the clothes and inspected everything we took with us. I take some comfort that we stayed two places between the infested apartment and our home-away-from-home in Stockholm, just for a little extra security. None of the kids who'd slept in the nasty room ever showed signs of bites. And since we'd extended out trip for cheaper airfare, we ended up with enough time still to make a good, long visit. I honestly can see God's hand in every step of the story, from the longer trip, to the inexplicable bug in the bath tub, to the nicer neighborhood/hotel. And now, we'll always have (bed bugs in) Paris!

We'll also always henceforth join the ranks of the paranoid - checking every hotel/AirBnB mattress before we lie down on it. We used to chuckle at our fastidious family members, who worried about bed bugs at every turn. But now... we get it! We're on board!

Coming up soon, the more upbeat stories from the trip.