Listen here, girly...

Dear baby,

It's 3:55am and it seems you require my attention. At least, I assume that's the purpose of all your kicking and punching. How can I help you? Would you like some orange juice? Some hot milk? Perhaps a story?

hmm... scratch the story. My Kindle is out of juice because someone has woken me up at silly hours the last few nights and the only way I can fall back asleep is by reading. I suppose I could go find an actual book (you know, the kind with paper) but that would require getting out of bed and walking into the living room. Not unreasonable except for the fact that there may or may not be a mouse lurking in there. Your dad set some traps but this is a sneaky mouse who keeps eating the food off the traps without triggering them. Such a tricky little bugger. So yes, I think we'll stay right here with the door closed and I'll just tell you about the last week...

Let's start with the most exciting part first! On Wednesday I did some really fascinating research into whether or not a U.S. resident was subject to excise tax if they weren't invoiced for a premium payment in an international indentured bond. (huh. I think that might have just put you to sleep... totally understand. me too.)

oop... there you go kicking again. Guess that didn't relax you. I'm going to take this as a good sign. That taxes and finance irritate you. I fully support this irritation.

So let's move on to the truly fun news! The best part of the week was learning that all signs point to you being a healthy baby! You are right on point for size of head, tummy and legs. You have a very low risk of chromosomal disorders and you seem to have ten fingers and toes. This is fantastic. We are quite proud of you! Keep up the good work! Grow Grow Gadget Baby! (your dad and I might have been quoting Inspector Gadget this week... feel free to make fun of us in a few years, we can take it...)

The other truly exciting news was the doctor's suspicion that you are a GIRL. G-I-R-L!

Which. Wow. I don't know why but I was convinced you were going to be a little boy. I hadn't gone so far as to start calling you "Lil Louie" or "Lil L" - didn't want to confuse you if I was wrong - but... all the same I just KNEW there was no chance of you being a girl. So much for mother's intuition.

After I processed what the doc said, a million random things popped into my head...

First came the standard little girl thoughts. I had images of adorable little polka dot dresses and pigtails. Wearing the pristine little outfits that your cousin Jordan grew out of too quickly too wear.



Did you know that Polo makes BABY GIRL dresses? I sure hope you like this style becaues you'll be wearing it. A lot.

 Then I thought about you getting older and taking you for sleepovers with Jordan (fyi: she's awesome, you are going to totally love her and think of her as a big sister. Except better because you won't live in the same house and steal her makeup so you'll fight a lot less when you are in middle school.). I pictured basketball games and dance recitals (I'm hoping you got my athlete genes and your father's rhythm).




      

         Spencer genes should help you here.

 

... and hurt you here. You'll need a lot of Keppler in you for this to be possible.




And then I thought about you getting much older. And things started getting ridiculous. I had a few panicked moments where all I could think about was a 16 year old you screaming that you hate me and how I just don't understand and that I'm the meanest person in the whole world for not letting you go to the movies or buy the trendiest - yet totally inappropriate for a young lady- outfit. I worried that you would be an awkward teenager with no friends. OR WORSE. That you'd be confident, social AND popular.... agh! BUT. Then I remembered that those days are still at least a decade away so there's no sense in worrying about it quite yet. Let's get you out of diapers before I worry about the length of your skirt and whether or not you have a date on Friday.


Hmm... seems like you are finally settled. Perhaps my crazy, nonsensical tangents relax you? This could be an excllent thing.
Anyways. I think I'll take this opportunity to grab some shut eye as well.

See you in 21 weeks or so.

Night :)

Dear Baby - 3am? Really??

Dear Baby,

You woke me up at 3am again last night. And wouldn't let me go back to sleep until 6am. I'm fine with that on the weekends when I can sleep in or take an afternoon nap, but on a work night?? Not cool, dude. Not cool at all.

Seriously though, what were you doing at 3am? Somersaults on my bladder? That's the only explanation I can come up with for feeling the urgent need to go to the bathroom yet having the output of a thimble. I wonder if this is normal behavior or if you are already showing signs of being a troublemaker? Perhaps I'll ask the doctor at our big appointment tomorrow.

What big appointment is that, you ask? Well. If I understood the receptionist lady correctly, we'll be getting the fancy ultrasound treatment tomorrow. Rumor has it the machine is not the normal one used on the last two visits but a super special one that allows you to see things in 3d. This is equal parts terrifying and exciting for your dad and I. In the terrifying corner is the fact that of the handful of 3d ultrasound pictures I've seen, a very high proportion of the babies come out looking like aliens. Scary, misshapen aliens!

You think I'm joking? Look:

(While I'm confident you will look positively human, even if you do come out looking a bit extraterrestrial, never fear, we will love you all the same. In fact, given my love of all things sci-fi, I might just love you a little extra...)

On the flip side, the prospect of a 3d ultrasound is incredibly exciting because, provided you behave and pose nicely for the cameras, we may just find out if you are a baby girl or a baby boy!

Ahh! I just can't wait to find out! There's so much we'll be able to do.... The first of which will be calling you something other than "the baby." (a perfectly fine moniker but kinda on the generic side...)

If you are a boy, we'll start using your first name and playing around with nicknames and middle names to see what "fits." (In case you are curious, your name will be Louis [something] Keppler the 47th. Or something like that. You have no say in the first or last name but, I may let you vote on the middle name. We'll work out a system of kicks or something.)

If you are a girl, we'll start trying to find a name we both like. There are millions of names in the world, I'm sure we'll find something suitable. It just might take 20 weeks.

So. Baby. Feel free to do as many somersaults as you'd like between the hours of 3am and 8am. Just try to settle down and be calm around 9:15am... and be sure to smile for the cameras...

20 Weeks = Picture!

Happy Monday everyone!

Now that we are past much of the first trimester craziness and my moods have (mostly) leveled out, all anyone asks about is THE BUMP. Do I have one? Are there pictures? Is it big? Do your pants fit? Are there pictures? Does it get bigger every day?

Are there pictures?

Sadly, up until this point, we haven't taken any pictures. Well, that's a lie. I did take a few around week 12 or so but there was nothing to see. I just looked like I needed to do a few hundred sit-ups pronto. And cut back on the carbs. So I deleted those.

But now, at 20 weeks, there's a definite bump. It's HUGE. Monstrous.

It's so big I've had to hang up my work pants. Don't have a prayer of wearing them until I pick up the belly band and button extenders offered to me by a friend.

As this sudden growth coincides with the all-important 20th week of pregnancy (per the baby books and baby sites, that means we are just about halfway there. 20 weeks down! 20 to go!), I took a picture. And didn't delete it immediately.

Hoewever. Before looking at it, you should know a few things about the super weird process of taking "belly pictures":

1. You stand sideways against a neutral backdrop that will emphasize your stomach and turn to face the camera. This all feels very awkward.

2. You have to forget, no, actively work against everything you've learned about picture taking since college. Instead of sucking your tummy in, you have to let it just sit. You can't turn 3/4 towards the camera. There is no adjustment of the hip to minimize the size of your waist. Basically, you have to TRY to look fat. This also feels very awkward.

3. Then. You take a picture with your shirt down and your husbandsays "Yeah.. that looks dumb. You can't see anything." So you pull your shirt up. Like some teeny bopper trying to be provocative. This feels the most awkward of all.

So. Do you want to see the most awkwardest picture ever? Do you? Here you go. A very pale (yay Belgian summers!) me with a 20 week old bump:

See what I mean about the size? It's so big you'd almost think there were twins in there.

FAQ and Answers (all of which are perfectly acceptable)

In a previous post I mentioned what you should NOT ask new parents but I failed to tell you which questions were perfectly safe. Encouraged even.

Below are some of the questions Lou & I have been asked by friends & family since spilling the news. Our personal FAQs if you will. In case you were wondering some of these things yourself, I thought I might as well clear them up here!

(Random, not at all baby related picture I felt the need to include because it's fun)

Q: When are you due? (excellent question!)
A: January 8th, 2012.

Q: Hmmm... January 8th. Ouch. That means you can't fly during the holidays. Where will you spend Christmas?? (mean yet valid question)
A: We have no idea.

Q: So does that mean you'll be having the baby in Belgium? Or in the U.S.?
A: We aren't sure yet. There are a oodles of pros & a few cons for both so it's a tough one. We'll keep you posted.

Q: How would having a baby in Belgium differ from in the U.S.?
A: Well, seeing as how we have pretty limited experience when it comes to giving birth, either in the U.S. or Belgium, I'm afraid the following is going to be based purely on anecdotes from friends who have been through the process in both places:

- The average Belgian doc gives more ultrasounds than the average U.S. doc
- If you go the hospital route, after delivery, the mom & baby stay for an average of 3 days. More if there are complications, less if everything went great and you really need to be at home.
- Having a doctor and a midwife help you in the weeks up to your due date as well as in the delivery is not uncommon. (note: I have no idea what this costs)
- Unless you deliver in Flanders (where I live) or at certain hospitals in Brussels, there's a decent chance you will have nurses who do not speak perfect English.

And... that's it. Yeah, I thought there would be more differences too. Guess there's only so many ways you can have a baby in countries with solid medical care. If we were expats in West Africa, the list might be longer.

Q: If you have the baby in Belgium will it get dual citizenship?
A: I wish. Sadly, these are the rules:

A person born in Belgium (to non-Belgian parents) is a Belgian citizen if that person:

- holds no other nationality at the time of birth (i.e., is stateless) OR;
- loses any other nationality before turning 18 OR;
- has a parent who was born in Belgium or who has lived in Belgium for at least five years during the last 10 years OR;
- is adopted (while under 18) by a parent holding another nationality who was born in Belgium and who has had their main place of residence in Belgium for five years during the 10 year period before the adoption takes effect.
- has two parents or adoptive parents born abroad who submitted a declaration before that person's twelfth birthday requesting that the person be granted Belgian nationality. Belgium must have been the parents' main place of residence during the 10 years preceding the declaration, and the person must have lived in Belgium since birth.

Basically, this means that the only way we'd get the baby to have Belgian citizenship is if we were to stay here for another 6 years and then submit a declaration. I love Belgium and all, but I'm not sure I'd last another 6 years...

(sorry, maybe next time)

Q: Will you find out if it's a boy or a girl?
A: Provided he/she cooperates in the ultrasounds, absolutely! We'll need all the time we can get to prepare a nursery, get baby clothes in colors other than yellow or green and... think of a name in the event it's a girl. (Current contenders in the girl's name department: 1/2 of one name. Super.)

Mystery Solved

"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage..."

When I was little, I took this nursery rhyme as a commandment.

When I was in high school, I learned that step 3 sometimes comes before step 2.

When I was in college, I learned that step 3 sometimes comes before step 2 or even step 1.
Post college, I wondered why there wasn't a "first comes love, then comes a shared lease, then comes a baby all wrapped in fleece" version.

Now? Now I know why the nursery rhyme is so enduring. Why, despite the many ways of bringing little babies into this world, the love, marriage, carriage sequence is pretty ideal.

Would you like to know why? It's simple.

Pregnant ladies are insane. Completely and totally batshit insane.

And. If they didn't have a ring on their finger, their formerly loving partner would leave them faster than you can say 'mood swing.'

No, seriously. If you are in the incredulous camp, I totally feel you. I used to listen friends and coworkers talk about their own pregnancies or those of their friends and secretly scoff at the anecdotes:

"Nausea all day?" Oh please. Take some pepto bismal and quit complaining.
"Food aversions?" As if anyone likes peas to begin with.
"Extreme exhausion?" I'd like an afternoon nap as well but that doesn't mean I'm pregnant.
"Heightened emotions?" Sorry to say, you were just as manic before.

But now? Oh my. Karma sure caught up with me. For the last 6-8 weeks I've had symptoms that I used to think were purely psychosomatic but now know to be anything but:

- Nausea in the morning, late afternoon and evening. In case you are curious, it is every bit as attractive as you imagine. I spent most nights laying on the couch making strange groaning noises and shooting Lou death glares while he happily ate his dinner or drank a beer. I'm sure he's never loved me as much as during those quiet evenings together.

- I stopped being able to eat standby favorites such as salmon, anything green (broccoli, asparagus, spinach), tomatoes, cheese and... PASTA. (the pasta thing only lasted two weeks but those were 14 very long, confusing days) Lou and I had more than one 'invasion of the body snatchers' conversations.

- I don't think I've had the extreme exhaustion thing. It's kind of hard to tell. I nearly passed out a few times at work but, I mean, I work in tax. Welcome to the exciting world of accounting, folks.

- As for the last one... heightened emotions? Oy vey. Just as the nausea thing quieted down (I haven't been sick in a week! Yay me! Yay stomach!) the emotions ratcheted up.

For example: Waitress at the bagel place took 35 minutes to bring us our order? Usually, I'd be cool with it. I mean, it's Belgium. That sort of thing is par for the course. But this time? I was apoplectic. Lou had to talk me down from screaming for our brunch, asking to speak with her manager and demanding that our bill be reduced (3 MAJOR no-no's in Belgium). To appease me, he politely inquired as to the status of our order and said "great, thanks!" when she replied they would be out shortly. Usually, that's what I do! Since when did he become me and I become a raging witch?

Also: Two weekends ago we were supposed to go to this music festival. After 30 minutes of running around the apartment like crazy people we were all packed and ready to walk out the door when we realized that neither of us had printed out the tickets. Which meant we wouldn't make it in time to see Jimmy Eat World. Concerned over this, I ran to the computer to look up nearby places to print out the tix and, as I did so, I sobbed. Sobbed! Body wracking, giant tear dropping sobs. Lou stood there, helpless and understandably confused, and tried to explain that he had already seen Jimmy Eat World live twice. And they were great shows. No way this 1 hour set would top his memory. And did I even like Jimmy Eat World? "well, there's that [hiccup] one song [hiccup] that i like."


(Great song, but not worth going into hysterics over. Especially since friends said they didn't even play it.)

Right. I lost it over missing a band we were ambivalent about seeing in the first place. I. Am. Losing. My. Mind.


Thank goodness he married me. Otherwise, he'd be out the door. And I wouldn't be able to blame him in the least.

What NOT to ask/say/do to the newly pregnant....

As you may have guessed from the fact that I wrote about the latest development - Baby! Woah! - on here, now that we at nearly 14 weeks we have started sharing the big news.

It's been going fairly well so far. Our bosses are supportive, our coworkers are friendly, our families are super excited and our friends are happy it's us and not them. But in between the love fests, there have been a few odd moments. A look here. A phrase there. Just enough to make me catalogue a list of all the things a person may want to consider when someone tells them they are having a baby. You know, in case they like that couple and want the couple to like them back.

We do not gag at the thought of these bundles of cuteness, we say 'congratulations!'

What NOT to Ask/Say/Do to the Newly Pregnant:

1. Do NOT ask: "Are you happy?"

What the parents-to-be will think: Why shouldn't we be? You must not think we are ready for this. Why?? Was it the keg stand I did last weekend? Because you know I only do that occasionally.
Better question: "Congratulations! How exciting! When are you due?"

2. Do NOT say: "I totally guessed it! I noticed your pants were a little tight last week..."
What the mother-to-be will think: Are you calling me fat?
Better statement: "Congratulations! Wow! You look great!"


3. Do NOT: Touch the mother's belly.

Unless you are related or she knows you very well, don't. And even then, just don't. Just tell her she looks great. Just tell her she looks great.

4. Do NOT say: Has that lunch meat been cooked? When did you last eat sushi? Are you getting enough exercise? Are you sure you are getting enough Vitamin K?

What the mother-to-be will think: My doctor says I'm doing fine. Why are you picking on me?
Better question: "Congratulations! When are you due? You look great!"

5. Do NOT say: "Are you scared? You should be. Oh, and do you like sleep? Because you won't be getting any for the next decade!"What the parents-to-be will think: THANKS for that. THANKS.
Better question: "Wow! When are you due? You look great!"

6. Do NOT: Make a gagging noise and say "We're going out for happy hour! Who's in?"

What the mother-to-be will think: Screw you.
Better response: Anything else. Seriously, anything.

This totally makes up for it, don't ya think?

Hello,

If the combination of numbers and letters above my last post are to be trusted, it appears I have been gone for nearly 3 months. Wowzers. While the excuses are many (12 at last count) and several are standards (lots of travel + work) the final excuse totally makes up for my absence. I promise.


You see. I've been under the weather for the last, oh, 11 weeks or so.


It started on May 13th. Friday, May13th. Despite the ominous date, it was a gorgeous day and I was all walking happily to the grocery store thinking, "You know, Belgium doesn't suck when it's sunny and warm," when my stomach suddenly started doing backflips. I chalked it up to an odd lunch and continued on my merry way. Lou was in England until Monday for a Pink Floyd concert so I was determined to stock up on all the foods I love (but Lou can only handle in small doses: pasta, pesto, parmesan cheese and perhaps a little more pasta).

After another stomach flip in the meat section and then again near the produce, I found myself walking down the ladies hygiene aisle and realized that I hadn't had to frequent this area in... um... 5 weeks? 6 maybe? I started running numbers in my head and then bee-lined for the section full of those other sorts of ladies products.

Sandwiched between shampoos and first aid supply was a narrow column of a variety of things you wouldn't want your grandmother to see you buying. So. Obviously. I was surrounded by grandmothers. And fathers. And little kids. Because all of Leuven was shopping at this time. In this store. Right next to me. And as I stood there, trying to figure out which box could possibly the test taking sort of box, I felt like there were a 100 knowing glances directed at me. Kowning and yet completely unhelpful as there were no cutesy pictures on the boxes or any other helpful clues. Finally, after racking my brain for the proper translation and pushing boxes aside, I finally found - hidden behind a box of products aimed at preventing the need for these types of excursions - a ZWANGERSCHAPTEST!!

Yeah. ZWANGERSCHAPTEST. Not an obvious translation. Fortunately, this one was made by Clearblue so I knew I had the right kind of product.

Anyways, I rushed to the checkout, made my purchase as inconspicuously as possible and fast walked the two blocks home.

And... tick tock, tick tock... wouldn't you know? Those stomach turns? Totally not lunch-related. Not even a little.

They were caused by a little baby who had taken up residence about 6 weeks previously.

Little Keppler has hung in there for about 13.5 weeks and we (I broke the news practically the minute he walked in the door from London) could not be more excited. And thrilled. And all those other positive adjectives.

More news to follow, I'm sure.

now. wasn't that a good excuse?? I certainly think so.

Dinsdag DIY (or CWB?)

For those of you who were unaware, "Dinsdag" is the Dutch/Flemish word for "Tuesday."

And it just so happens to be my second favorite day of the week. Not because the day itself is all that special. Little of note ever happens on Tuesdays. Prior to moving to Belgium, it's sole accomplishment was that it wasn't Monday. But here, Tuesday is "Dinsdag." And that is just such a fun word to say. Even better, it is one of about 4 Flemish words I can pronounce PERFECTLY.

Sometimes, when I'm waiting for BF at this cafe near the train station that is often packed with locals, I'll call him and drop it randomly into conversation. It goes like this:

Me: Where are you? I have a table. Would you like me to order you a drink?

BF: Yeah. Sure.

Me: (as I notice the waiter approaching...) Ahhh. Op dinsdag.

BF: WHAT?

Me: (to the waiter) "Twee Rochefort 10, alsjeblieft."

Waiter: (Guesses I'm a local and says something in Flemish that I most certainly do NOT understand)

BF: You poser.

Me: (completely undeserved gigle)

Anyways. Dinsdag. In addition to it being an excellent opportunity to fake Flemish, I recently decided that Dinsdag should be a DIY day. (in this case, I'm being boring and letting DIY stand for good old "do-it-yourself"...) If I were at all talented or crafty or design sponge-y, I would knit scarves, weave blankets, arrange flowers or... repurpose vintage suitcases into coffee tables. But lets be real. I don't knit. I don't have a loom. I think flowers are too expensive. And no matter how hard I look, I can't find any blasted vintage suitcases in our price range. So. For me. DIY = cooking without boxes. Or rather, cooking with books. CWB, if you will.

Either way, cooking from scratch is no small feat for me. But. Just last Dinsdag I did it. And it was wonderful. Delicious even. And I must share.

The cookbook (and by "cookbook" I mean cooking blog) I used for this dish was everyone's favorite, Smitten Kitchen. And the recipe that I selected was her twist on Spaghetti al Limone. Except, of course, I was missing some of the key ingredients. (BF was being stupid and wouldn't run to the store to get me what I needed even though I was slaving over the stove for a good 12 minutes. Possibly even 13. The nerve of him sometimes...) So I made some substitutions.

It went like this:

Britt's Bogarted Penne al Limone

• 500grams or half a package Penne pasta. Plus an extra shake or two.


• Salt to taste. (for me that's lots. for BF that's barely enough to throw over your shoulder.)


• 2 lemons. (or 1 lemon plus a few capfuls of lemon juice if you are me and don't have dozens of lemons laying around. or 2.)


• 1 oz goat cheese (you are supposed to put in parmesan but we didn't have any. I used goat. it was awesome.)


• 1/4 cup olive oil 1/4 cup Alpro Soya Cuisine (Ms. Smitten recommends heavy cream. We never have that in our fridge but we did have some soy heavy cream substitute leftover from a previous culinary experiment/disaster. I think it worked nicely)


• Ground black pepper


• Handful of spinach or some other healthy looking greenery

Cook penne in a big old pot.

While your pasta is boiling, zest a lemon or two. Make a teaspoon sized mound and put aside then juice your lemons. 1/3 to 1/2 a cup is ideal. If you don't have fresh lemons, locate your bottle of lemon juice and put it on the counter. If you have neither fresh nor bottled lemon juice, why are you reading this? Go to the store.

How long has your pasta been cooking? 8 minutes or so? Check it. Is it just past crunchy? Perfect! Pour through a strainer and reserve a cup or so of the pasta water.

Now, this is where the big old pot comes in handy. Dry it and then place it back on the stove. Put your olive oil, cream, lemon zest and spinach in the pot and cook at high heat for 2 minutes or so. Stir lots and lots so nothing burns or sticks. When it's a little frothy, pour your pasta back in. Add the lemon juice and a bit of the pasta water if you so choose. Then, as Ms. Smitten says, "toss, toss, toss everything together."

Do a quick taste test. Add a bit more lemon or cheese or spinach or salt. If you have any pine nuts on hand (hah. If you are the kind of person who has those on hand, you probably aren't reading this, but, whatever), toast those lightly and throw them in the mix.

If the taste test goes well, place into bowls. Do NOT eat straight out of the pot with two forks like savages. Not that being a savage is a bad thing, but I promise you will not get your fair share.

Finally, enjoy!

P.S. Since you went all DIY on your dinner you can go straight to the box for dessert. I recommend a box of Pierre Marcolini's chocolates:

Le sigh.

Good morning,

Hope everyone is well and had a great weekend.

In our neck of the woods, all signs point to the fact that I am a)no longer in college and b)in denial about a). Which is a roundabout way of saying that I am still recovering from this past weekend. Which was equal parts hectic, amazing, fun, emotionally draining and physically exhausting.

Should you still be in recovery mode, hopefully this song is as relaxing and restorative for you as it is for me...

"S" is for Sprinkles

Hello! Happy Wednesday!

In case you are curious, Paris was lovely (as it so often is) and Devan and I had a wonderful time bopping about. Although BF thought we did a terrible job as visitors to the capital city, it was a perfect getaway as I maintain there is nothing wrong with doing the following while in Paris:

- Having GOOD pizza instead of really bad French food

- Enjoying a hot dog in a baguette from a vendor rather than a 16 Euro club sandwich at LaDuree

- Spending an hour strolling through antique shops and coming away nothing but a bunch of pictures

- Purchasing macarons from Laduree and then eating them with a Starbucks chai latte that tastes like home

- Prancing about the (free portion) of the Chateau de Vincennes

Perhaps individually they are not so noteworthy, but done in quick succesion they make for a relaxing and fun agenda.

So. Those are my thoughts on a free day in Paris. But there was something else I was supposed to share... I wrote an "S" on my hand to remind myself. Because I am awesome like that. Heck if I know what it stands for now. Oh! I know! "S" is for Sprinkles! AND the other fun little things I learned while in Austria.

I suppose I'll share them now in order of deliciousness...

1. CHOCOLATE SPRINKLES FOR BREAKFAST

Remember when I mentioned that the shopping list for our trip included chocolate sprinkles? Turns out they were not for cupcake topping. No. They were for breakfast. On top of bread. And butter.

Don't believe me? I have proof:

Breakfast of [Belgian] Champions: white bread with butter and dark chocolate sprinkles!

Everyone laughed at mine & BF's shocked faces as they feasted on this delicious dessert-masquerading-as-breakfast plate. And then we laughed at their shocked faces when we opened up the jar of Skippy peanut butter we brought (found at an Asian supermarket in Maastricht... because that makes sense) and had it on toast with bananas or on apples. They thought we were nuts! Especially when we packed lunch for the day and made PB&J sandwiches. "Peanut butter and Jelly?? That is so weird!"

Apples and peanut butter? Crazy!

2. SOCKS

At some point during the week, I was alerted to the fact that BF and I were - constantly - committing a serious fashion faux pas. By wearing white socks. The wearing of socks was fine. But the fact that they were white? Oh heavens no!

Turns out (in Belgium) they are to be worn ONLY while working out and even then it is preferred that women wear white socks with colorful accents to the gym. BF and I, obviously, only own white socks and everyone now and then they would giggle at this. Also. Even if the hottest Belgian boy in the whole world approaches you, you are to turn him down if he's wearing white socks. I found this ridiculous.

3. SALZBURG

... is an easy two hour drive from Wald-im-Pinzgau. Should the weather be bad or you need a break from skiing.

The weather was great and BF and I needed no sort of break so we skied while our friends went on a city trip to Salzburg. Their pictures were lovely and they had a wonderful time. I got a great purple and blue bruise on my leg and had a delicious Spaetzle noodle soup while on the slopes. I think we had a wonderful-er time :)

4. MARCH MADNESS

Seeing as how we're already at the final four, this portion is a bit late, but whatever. I was still shocked when I learned that our friends had never heard of March madness. They had NO IDEA what it was. None! Poor things. Whether they liked it or not, we decided they would learn what all the fuss was about as we had the evening free the first day of the tournament. I think the introductory session went pretty well but after watching Lou & I work on our brackets and then be subjected to 5 hours of March Madness on Demand on 2 laptops and 2 iPads, they asked a number of incredible questions, including but not limited to the following:

"So. What is the point? They play just so that YOU can make the bracket?"

"How do you get a touchdown?"

"What if Pitt scores less points in the game but has a better bracket than the other team? Do they still lose the game?"

I'm thinking we might have to do a refresher session next year...

An excellent consolation prize

(First Spring trip to Paris ~ April 08)

A dear friend from college, we'll call her "Future Supreme Court Justice" or "FSCJ" for short, has been staying with us in Leuven the past two nights. Unfortunately, BF & I have been suffering from general exhaustion due to work and whatnot so I hope she's had an okay visit. Fortunately, where Lou and I were unable to bring our A [hosting] game, Leuven stepped up to the plate and was its dazzling self. It even managed to hit one out of the park with two whole days of sun and downright reasonable temperatures. Regardless, I've most enjoyed her visit. You know those people that you can go years and years without seeing and then pick up right where you left off? Well, she's one of them. Add to that the fact that she's brilliant, genuine, thoughtful, engaging, inspiring, interesting and funny as hell and you have all the ingredients for an incredible guest.

Sadly, she has to jet off to Paris today to rendevous with her family and my life must return its focus to the mundane. However, luck of lucks, she needs a ride to her final destination and who should be able to chauffeur Ms. Future Supreme Court Justice but yours truly?? Pretty great consolation prize, no?

So. This afternoon, I'm stealing my friend, Devan, and we are going to drive FSCJ into Paris and then stay the night ourselves. Have a nice little girls-only-no-boys-allowed dinner and then spend Saturday shopping the Marais and the Les Puces des Saint-Ouen market (i.e. the biggest flea market in the world) and perhaps making a stop or two at Laduree for some macarons.

Paris in the springtime with friends? A most wonderful consolation prize indeed.

From April

Different Kinds of Dining: Brussels Edition

One of the latest crazes amongst the travelling set is what I like to call "Storybook Travelling." Or perhaps "Tale Travelling"?** What I mean is that 99% of the travelers I come across are in it for the "story." They are no longer content with the standard Paris city tour highlighting Notre Dame and the Arc de Triomphe. Been there. Done that. "Luke & Jenna - you know, from work? They did that. We need to top them." No. They want to walk through the underground crypts. Or take a painting class at the Louvre.

Same goes for restaurants. The hole in the wall you read about in Le Monde (with the help of Google Translate, of course) just won't do it. Even the weekend dinner club, "Hidden Kitchen," isn't enough ("It's been covered in the Times, it's SO 2010. What else do you got?").

On the one hand, this attitude can be a bit irritating. Seriously?? The Musee d'Orsay isn't good enough for you? Seriously??What more do you want from me? But at the same time, it's kind of awesome. It forces you to approach travel in a new way. To look for an experience rather than just tick sights off a list. Maybe even make a few lasting memories.

With this in mind, I started looking for interesting, off the wall dining experiences in my neck of the woods and, much to my surprise, Brussels had more than it's fair share of storybook-worthy offerings:

1. Would you like some wine with your view? (Dinner in the Sky)

Frequent readers of the popular blogs, Cup of Joe and Black Eiffel, will probably be rolling there eyes and thinking "Been there, clicked that," BUT, in case you haven't read about it already, here are the details:

Belgian based company, Events in the Sky, enables 22 lucky (and height loving!) individuals to have a 3 course meal with an exceptional view... from 50 meters above the ground. A table is held aloft by a crane and can be placed in a number of spots around Belgium (or in one of the 30+ countries the company now serves) for spectacular views of the the surrounding area. In the pictures from their Belgian events, the crane was placed outside the Atomiom and most certainly afforded the diners a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

(courtesy Dinner in the Sky website)

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Fun fact:



You can also get married in the sky and then bungee jump as newlyweds! Such a shame I didn't see this until now...

Site: www.dinnerinthesky.com

Price: Who knows? This is a group-only type deal that you must reserve in advance. Perhaps you can pitch it your boss as a "Team Building" exercise?

2. Belgian Geometry: Square meal in a cube on an arch. (Electrolux "Cube")

Kind of like the travelling version of Paris' Nomiya restaurant, Electrolux is bringing it's "Cube" (sidenote: why does Paris get the exotic-sounding "Nomiya" and we get the "Cube"??) restaurant to Brussels. From March 25-July 3rd, diners will get to sample gourmet food atop one of Brussels' gems, the Arc de Triomphe in Parc du Cinquantenaire. From their website:

Overlooking the beautiful Parc du Cinquantenaire, 18 diners will share an
unforgettable and inspiring evening. Come and join them in Brussels, and enjoy
the latest gourmet creations from culinary directors Bart de Pooter, chef of
restaurant De Pastorale in Reet and Sang Hoon Degeimbre of L’Air Du Temps in
Noville-sur-Mehaigne at an once-in-a-lifetime dining event.

(amazing photo via Flickr user PixGraphix)

Site: http://www.electrolux.be/Cube/Cube/

Price: 150 Euros for lunch, 200 Euros for dinner. Um, ouch. Maybe next time for us...

3. Dining in the dark? www.Only4Senses.com
[Oh shoot! Just as I hit "publish" I learned that this is no longer a dining option... I will try to find a 3rd/4th offering for Brussels and share it later]

** Which sounds better? Or do you have a suggestion for a better description of this trend? It's seriously bugging me that I don't have a short, cute little title for it...

The Further Adventures of Britt & Lou: Austria Edition

Hello!

After 7 days in the Austrian Alps and 20 hours of driving through 3.5 countries (we accidentally wandered into Switzerland for like 8 minutes)we are back in beautiful Belgium. Before I get into a full recap of our stay, let me cut to the most important bit: contrary to what the videos I posted earlier might suggest, I survived a whole week at the [Alpine] peak without incident! And by "incident" I mean broken bones, trips to the hospital or any lasting physical damage. I do have a few good bruises and Lou may or may not have captured a video or two of me wiping out in truly spectacular ways, but, we are all in one piece. Which is 90% of the battle.

(I know, I was shocked by the lack of injuries too...)

So. Now that my skiing expertise has been shared, we can move on to the business of recapping the week.

Here are the pertinent details:

Timeframe: March 12- March 19, 2011

This would have been a fine time to go had there been more snow in January & February given that the average temp was 55 and there were blue skies most days. Unfortunately, the lack of precipitation prior to our visit meant that for 5/7 days we found ourselves with icy runs on the mountain and almost no fresh powder. Of course, on our 2nd to last day there was a proper storm and while we couldn't ski that day we did stay the full day on Saturday so that we could take advantage of the amazing conditions.

(Blue skies + Mountains + Snow = Happy Lou)

Where we Stayed: Haus Contento in Wald im Pinzgau, Austria

"Haus Contento" was a 3 bedroom, 2.5 bath apartment nestled in the Wald im Pinzgau valley with gorgeous views of the surrounding mountains. Although on the basic side, it was perfect for our purposes and fit the six of us quite nicely. We were able to cook all but 2 nights, make breakfast every morning and watch more NCAA basketball than our poor Belgian friends ever desired thanks to the free internet. Our friend booked it for us via http://www.chaletsplus.com/en/

Where we Skied: Zillertal Arena

Zillertal Arena is composed of not just one but 5(ish) peaks connected via gondolas, chairlifts and tracks on the mountain as well as buses down in the valley. And how were all these peaks? Well. Considering that my only other ski experience was in Telluride, which, according to Lou, is one of the best resorts in the world, I'm not sure I'm really a good source for whether or not Zillertal is a good place to ski. I guess I'll just say that I was able to do all of the hardest routes by my 3rd day. Yes, me. I'm not saying I did all of them well, but, I did them without any major problems. So. I suppose that means Zillertal is great for novices like myself. More advanced skiers such as Lou had to really search "off-piste" for exciting tracks.

Where we Ate: Restaurant Zum Kirchenwirt in Wald im Pinzgau, ProllerAlm in the Zillertal Arena, our kitchen table and the rocks at the top of Koningsleitenspitz

I recommend the rocks:

Check back tomorrow for a recap of what I learned about socks, sprinkles, Salzburg and (apres-)skiing...

While we're on the subject...

(of skiing, not grocery lists...)

I emailed my mom about the funny Belgian shopping list and her response had nothing to do with chocolate or sprinkles or Nutella. Instead, she said:

"Be careful. Wear a helmet please."

Really? I thought you were supposed to remove your hat at the dinner table?

(Weak joke, I know... moving on...)

Anyways. Her concern is somewhat understandable given that I am a) the clumsiest person ever - and that's without skis - and b) I've only gone skiing once. So, to ease her fears of me being a reckless speed demon that careens down the mountain, I thought I'd share the following videos captured by BF on my inaugural ski trip (in Telluride, CO):




Oh but wait. It gets better:



Right. 2014 Olympics, here I come... with my helmet.

Can't leave home without it...

The minute the ink was dry on my offer letter to start work in Belgium (in January of 2008), the wheels started spinning with travel ideas. Paris? Rome? Barcelona? Nah. Too overdone. Need to do something different. Something my mountain-loving BF would find extra special.

Somehow a ski trip in Austria popped into my head. With the always-reliable source material of movies & tv shows, I conjured up images of hot chocolate, quaint chalets, wool sweaters, furry boots, snowy Alps and apres ski amongst worldly Europeans. Could there be a better vacation for our first winter in Europe?

(BF and I skiing in Telluride this past winter. Had we taken this trip in 2008, perhaps I would have been capable of planning a ski trip in Europe.)

SO. For Christmas that year I bought BF the "Lonely Planet Guide to Austria" and bookmarked "Innsbruck." The Olympics had been held there twice. Surely it would be good enough for us?

Well, yes, it probably would. If I had ANY idea how to plan a ski trip.

Unfortunately, at the time, my experience with these things was rather limited:
a) I had never seen a proper mountain
b) I had never been to Austria
c) I had never been skiing

(Also, it should be mentioned I had no idea what "apres ski" was. Having never seen it spelled before I actually thought it was something along the lines of "a-PRAY ski" and involved religion. Turns out it involves drinking. Lots and lots of drinking. Which is totally similar.)

I searched dozens of websites, read articles, guidebooks, etc. but was completely and hopelessly lost. Between the German and French descriptions of resorts and chalets and confusing reviews and absurdly expensive packages... my head was spinning. So. I promptly booked a weekend in Paris (so much for original) and... well, let's just say that THREE years later, we still have not been skiing in Europe together.

However, thanks to our amazing friends, Janey and Jeroen (who are old pros when it comes to booking European ski vacations), we will finally be going on our Austrian ski trip! We leave this Saturday and will be staying there a full week with the aformentioned Janey & Jeroen as well as another two friends.

Which brings me to the point of this post... Belgian shopping lists. You see, we will be staying at a chalet with a full kitchen so the idea is that we will stock the place with basics for breakfast, lunch and a few dinners and then supplement that with a few dinners out. As they aren't sure whether or not there will be a reasonably-priced grocery store nearby, our dear friends pulled together a grocery list of ESSENTIALS for a week away. Many of the items would have been on my list (toilet paper, spaghetti, cereal) but there were a few that I feel are uniquely Belgian:

Still Water
Sparkling Water
Nutella
Baking Butter
Butter for Bread
Chocolate Sprinkles
Icebags (these are plastic bags you fill with water and then freeze. Like ice trays but disposable.)
Koningingenhapje (also known as "Flemish Stew" or "Beef Carbonnade")

Amazing, no? I love that two kinds of water and two kinds of butter are required. I can't wait to see what constitutes butter for bread. (Perhaps they mean stick butter and margarine? Somehow I think it will be fancy schmancy dairy butter vs. supermarket brand baking butter) Nutella should require little explanation but chocolate sprinkles??? Really???

Want to know why I love Belgians so much? They can't survive a week without chocolate sprinkles.

(The chocolate spread aisle at the local grocery store. The yellow boxes at the top left are Sprinkles. To the left of those are "Matinettes" - bars of chocolate that are meant to be spread on bread. The rest of the jars are Nutella, gourmet versions of nutella and "Speculoos Spread" - a bread topping made of speculoos cookies. It's a big deal here in Belgium.)

Remember when I said that Belgian Customer Service was subpar?

The "prank" below pretty accurately sums up the customer service experience in Belgium.

It was hugely popular here - probably because everyone that watches identifies with it a bit more closely than they'd otherwise prefer...

Carnaval, Belgian Style

For many, the word "Carnaval" means "that crazy festival in Rio de Janeiro." They immediately think of extravagant costumes and hypnotizing samba dancing. Like Mardi Gras in New Orleans but with a Latin flavor.

(Carnaval parade in Rio)

But spectacle aside, at it's heart it's just a four day festival that begins the Saturday before Ash Wednesday (though the parades start in earnest on Sunday, seven weeks before Easter Sunday). And you know what? It's not the only Carnaval festival in the world.

Venice is known to put on a fabulous show:

(Unfortunately we just missed Carnaval on our Venice trip last year)

And while not quite so elaborate as the one in Rio nor as full of intrigue as the one in Venice, Cologne holds a pretty interesting party each year:

(Carnaval revelers in Cologne, Germany)

[Sidenote: In 2009 we visited Cologne to see what all the fuss was about. Although there were some amazing costumes and hilarious parades, it was cold and rainy and just... icky. But that could be because Cologne itself is a bit of an odd city. Much of it was razed during the World Wars and the structures built afterwards are not exactly easy on the eyes. It's basically concrete, accented with concrete and topped off with more concrete. You can imagine how gorgeous it is in the rain. Shockingly, we have not been back. ]

(Celebrating Carnaval in Cologne, 2009. We started the morning off with more wigs but they were ruined in the rain...)

Now, if Rio's celebration is the "most feathery" and Venice's is the "most masked" and Cologne's is the "most gray and miserable" then Belgium's own Binche Carnival is easily the "most bizarre." In the world.

Although there are celebrations in various forms in the weeks leading up to Fat Tuesday, the events that draw the most attention take place on Mardi Gras. And they begin early.

As in 4am early.

With drums.

Dressed in traditional costumes (see picture below) that are passed down from father to son and can be 150 years old, the "Gilles" go from house to house, gathering their fellow men (gotta be a guy to be a Gilles) and greeting each other with champagne. Although it sounds a little crazy to be drinking champagne at 4am while in costume, this is apparently a very serious affair with many rules that must be followed.

(Gilles in traditional costume that consists of an ostrich-feather headpiece, green glasses, belt with bells and wooden shoes.)

Around 8am, the different groups of Gilles come together and have a breakfast of champagne & oysters. They then don special wax masks (I didn't get a picture of this myself as they took them off before the parade but see below for an example) and wait for the municipal authorities to give them the OK to begin the parade through town with their fellow Carnaval celebrators dressed up as Harlequins and peasants among other things.

While waiting for the festivities to begin, locals and tourists alike can be found packing the streets and spending the hours dancing, drinking and eating fair food. If they are REALLY cool they play with confetti:

Around 3:30 things get quiet and you start to hear the slow thunder of footsteps coming towards you. Which is when things get weird. (you know, because drums at 4am and ostrich feathers are totally normal...)

The low rumble is the result of 1,000+ Gilles, Harlequins and peasants slowly strolling through town carrying baskets of blood oranges which they gently toss to the waiting crowd.

(Orange AND confetti. Score!)

Note that is is what happens when you are nice.

If you taunt them, well, they don't so much "toss" as PELT.

So you better duck.

(The metal grates are not just for decoration...)

Looks like fun, no? Not too shabby for little old Belgium. If you think this is something you'd like to experience for yourself, it's not too late! Mardi Gras celebrations begin tomorrow at 4am!

For more information, check out the official Binche website HERE. (translated in English if you're French is a little rusty. Or non-existent.)

Let's try this again, shall we?

Wordpress and I have had some issues of late so I've decided to go back to Blogger. It's what I used when I was last living abroad and keeping a blog (in 2005! where did the time go??) and it's just so darn easy to use I'm hoping I'll stop making excuses and, you know, actually post from time to time.

As opposed to once a month. If that. Oops.

For now, check out this, um, interesting picture (that was stupid simple to embed):

Curious what this picture is all about? Check back tomorrow! (seriously, mom, I promise to write about it.)