My new hobby

It has been awhile since I posted a blog entry, because I have been VERY busy. We moved into our new flat last weekend and have been trying to get settled. I started working on a post this week about our new apartment, but have had limited amounts of time to work on it, because of a new hobby I have become infatuated with. Really, it's all I think about and every spare moment of my time is spent on it. Now, some women enjoy scrapbooking and cardmaking. Others like to spend time cooking, reading, running. But not me. I have no time to spend on things like that. I am now a full time recycler.

Yes, recycling has consumed my days and nights. If I'm not awake working on saving the environment one cardboard box at a time, I'm laying in bed pondering how to best adhere to the rules of recycling here in Switzerland. I really wanted to update everyone on our new flat, which I love. I was hoping to post pictures of our home for the next two years. But I didn't have the energy to move the giant piles of cardboard that are stacked all over the main living area. And the bags of glass bottles that have been neatly sorted make too much noise to move when the kids are sleeping.

Here in Switzerland, recycling is a full time job. Particularly if you are new to the sport. At first I thought sorting out the different colors of glass bottles was a relaxing activity that I could do while catching up on my favorite reality TV shows. Then I realized that sorting the aluminum into a separate bag to haul to the recycling area in town would be more efficient. Next, a friend told me I needed to sort out all the PET items. Since we pawned off our only pet, a black cat, before moving to Switzerland, I figured this was an area of recycling I would be able to avoid. But here in the land of fondue, PET refers to all plastic items. These too need to be sorted into a separate bag and taken to the appropriate recycling bins in town. So, being an eco-friendly resident of planet earth, I started a bag designated for all the plastic items.

Are you all keeping up? I now have a bag for green glass bottles, a bag for brown glass bottles and a bag for clear glass bottles. The brown bottles consist of beer bottles Bryan has emptied while trying to understand this crazy new hobby I call recycling. The green bottles are mainly wine bottles that I have emptied to make my hobby more relaxing. (I know many of you like to enjoy a glass of wine while cooking or scrapbooking. This is pretty much the same thing, right?) The clear bottles are empty Nutella jars. Z eats lots of Nutella since it is the only food he has not added to his DO NOT EAT list since arriving here in Switzerland. In addition to the 3 bags of glass bottles, I also have a bag of plastic items and a bag of aluminum items sitting in my front hallway to be conveniently hauled around town. That's five bags of efficiently organized garbage to dispose of properly for the love of mother earth.



But wait, you ask. What about the stacks of cardboard you mentioned piled around your flat? Ahhh.....the cardboard. That beautiful brown packaging that Ikea feels must encase all of it's products from candles to couches. Yes, the cardboard is also recycled, my friends. The cardboard you must break down, cut into smaller pieces, and neatly tie into manageable bundles with some nice sturdy string. It's kind of like wrapping Christmas presents, until you realize you are wrapping up what most would consider to be trash. This enjoyable activity takes up a large chunk of the time I have dedicated to my craft. As I type this blog entry, the tips of my fingers ache from the many cuts and scrapes they have suffered while breaking down boxes and slashing them with a box cutter. My once well groomed fingernails are now jagged and brittle. A small price to pay for saving planet earth, wouldn't you say?

An entire wall of our living area was piled high with cardboard boxes yesterday. Today it has been transformed into a giant pile of broken down boxes in the middle of our dining area, awaiting the string tying process. We still have E's big girl bed in 7 boxes, waiting to be assembled. I can hardly wait to get my hands on those big beautiful boxes. They will provide at least a couple hours worth of recycling fun.

Of course the Swiss are reasonable people, and do not expect me to haul my bundles of cardboard around town. No, they provide a convenient pick up service once a month. I just set my bundles out by the giant trash bin for our building on the designated day, and the cardboard fairy takes it off my hands. Unfortunately, the day we moved in was the monthly pickup for cardboard in our town. So I only have 21 more days left to stare at the piles of cardboard that are quickly becoming just a normal part of our surroundings. Oh, how I love to save the environment one box at a time.

Bryan and I have spent an unreasonable amount of time on the computer trying to figure out what is considered cardboard here in beautiful Switzerland. We initially included food boxes, paper rolls, and milk and juice boxes (almost all beverages come in boxes here.)But after reading several lengthy internet articles about what the swiss consider to be cardboard, we sorted out all of these items and set them aside to be classified at a later date. I am guessing that later date will probably be when the milk cartons start to stink making our flat hard to inhabit.

I live in fear of being busted for not recycling correctly. Seriously, the garbage collectors will fine you if they choose to look carefully at the garbage in your bag and find you in violations of local recycling laws. Many people I know here have resorted to tearing their names off all mail so that the garbage guys can't trace their garbage back to them. I have not become advanced enough in my craft to research the paper recycling, so I am heading out this week to buy myself a shredder. I dare the garbage men to try to peice together the shredded remains of my mail. You don't think they'd do that, do you? Sweet Mother of God, tell me they wouldn't do that.....

The recycling bins are located across the street from our building, which is very convenient. Initially, Bryan said this would be a normal stop on his way to the train in the mornings so I wouldn't have to deal with it. Since then, he has walked past the 5 bags of garbage about 43 times without laying a hand on them. I think it's a little more of a hassle than he bargained for. When I took the bags across the street, I emptied the 3 different bags of colored bottles into their appropriate bins. I kept an eye out for any neighbors who might disapprove of the volume of beer and wine bottles I was disposing of. I was ready with a, "Wow, when you don't recycle these bottles for a few months, they really pile up, eh?" speech. The only person to join me at the recycling bins was a matronly woman with a wicker basket loaded with beer bottles. I had nothing to worry about.

Unfortunately, there was no PET recycling container. I was told these needed to be taken to the local market where they have PET recycling bins. So I carted my bag of plastic items to the market. While trying to quickly stuff them in the small hole in the wall labeled "PET", a market employee informed me in German that PET referred only to clear plastic. My yogurt and margarine containers could not be recycled here. So this garbage went back into my shopping bag to be taken back home. At this point, my hobby became a bit overwhelming and I considered crying in the middle of our local market. But the Swiss are not into public displays of emotion and I waited until I got home for my recycling meltdown.

Needless to say, all this recycling is making me a little crazy and has caused me to spend some time thinking about ways to simplify the process. The solution I have come up with involves me dressing in all black, heading out with my recyclables under the cover of darkness, and scoping out neighborhood dumpsters. And don't tell me it wouldn't have crossed your mind too.....

5 Things I Won't Miss About Our Temporary Apartment!

It has been almost a month here in Switzerland, and I think the whole family would agree that we really like it here. There have been LOTS of challenges but those have been well outnumbered by the moments when we realize how blessed we are to have the opportunity to see and experience life in Europe. Everyone we've talked to who has been an ex-pat says there are highs and lows. At first they are very drastic but as time goes by they begin to even out. I have a fear that we are at a "high" point right now and that there will be a horrible low around the corner. I've stocked up on Chardonnay, just in case.


One of the hardest parts of living in Zurich, has been living in our temporary apartment. It is in a great location for exploring the city, and has a beautiful view of the lake and mountains. But other than that, to put it bluntly, it blows. So as we just received the news that our freight container has arrived and we will be moving out of this apartment on Friday, I thought I would celebrate the occasion by blogging about the 5 biggest things that suck about this apartment. So here goes...... ( I feel like a half ass David Letterman)


#1 The lack of sound proofing

My little angels have made quite an impression on the residents of our apartment building. Since I don't speak German, I'm not sure what they are quietly chuckling about when I trapse past them in the entryway with the three kids. If I had to bet, I would guess they are referring to my kids as "The American Screamers" or perhaps "The kids that belong to that mother who always looks like she needs a drink". Bryan discovered that when one of the kids is crying and wailing, it can be heard very clearly 5 floors down in the lobby. Which leads me to believe that when I yell at the kids (hardly ever happens), that too can be heard all the way down to the bottom floor. This has caused me to invent something I like to call the "whisper scream". It's a lot like yelling at the kids. I get the same "crazy mama" look on my face, and speak in a "mama's gonna lose it" way, but I do it in a whisper. In my opinion, it's a lot creepier than the common yell, but unfortunately not very effective.


#2. The elevator


Now, I know some people have a fear of small spaces and find elevators to be very intimidating. I am not one of those people and have never thought twice before getting on one. That is, until we encountered the elevator from hell. Before the kids and I arrived, Bryan mentioned that the elevator was small. He didn't mention that it feels like you are being entombed every time you step into it. I am not exaggerating when I tell you that there is no way for the elevator ride up to our apartment to be a family affair. The 3 kids and one adult can hardly fit in it. When we first arrived, Bryan needed to fix our stroller and had to drag it up 5 flights because JUST THE STOLLER ALONE would not fit in the elevator.

Fortunately, they do have a button to push in case you get stuck in the elevator. I only know this because on several occasions, I have inadvertantly pushed it while trying to manouver myself around to "whisper scream" at the kids. When the German voice comes over the speaker, I assume asking us if we're still alive and well, I very loudly say "I'M SORRY! I DON'T SPEAK GERMAN! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" and then quickly try to hang up on her. It recently occurred to me that she probably has no idea what I am saying, and if I did in fact become trapped in the elevator with the 3 kids, the communication barrier would be my demise. They'd probably find the kids sitting atop my dead body several days later eating whatever snacks I had stashed in the backpack. I can just see the doors finally opening and the maintenance man finding me curled up in the elevator with dum dum lollipops stuck in my hair. What an undignified way to go.




#3. The bathroom/laundryroom.


There are 2 bathrooms in this apartment. One has a shower, a sink, and a toilet. All normal bathroom items. The other has 2 sinks, a toilet, a bathtub, and a washer and dryer. That alone isn't a big deal. The big deal is that if you are not under the age of 8, or a dwarf, you can't sit on the toilet without having to wedge your knees between it and the washer. This doesn't make for a very relaxing place to hide from the kids and I may need to start hiding in the elevator. To make the bathroom situation even more comical, we quickly realized that the washer is hooked up to the bathtub faucet. When we do laundry, we turn the handle on the bathtub to adjust the temperature setting. There are several hoses that hang over the side of the bathtub so the washer and dryer can drain into the tub. It's quite an ordeal at bathtime with the kids when we have to unhook the washer and dryer to fill the tub. I considered sticking the kids in the washer to save time, but C wouldn't fit.



#4 The dishwasher


See blog entry, "My Nemesis". I have conceded defeat and will continue washing dishes by hand for ONE MORE DAY. Damn Klarspuler.....


#5 The lack of wireless internet.


I know this one makes me sound like a spoiled American brat, but let me explain. Our computer serves many purposes in this apartment. My laptop is our only TV, our only means of communication back to the States (thanks to skype), my means of therapuetic ranting (a.k.a. this blog), and our translator for all things in German thanks to Google Translate. This makes it the most sought after item in the apartment. I've even stooped to luring my kids away from their Webkins activities with chocolate, so I could get on the computer. As if it's not bad enough that we all have to fight over it, when we do use it, we have to sit in the most uncomfortable chair at the dining room table. Have you ever tried to sit and watch 2 hours of The Biggest Loser while sitting upright at a table? It's almost enough to make you want go get off your butt and exercise. Almost.

But tomorrow is a new day and a brand new apartment. The difference in the two is night and day. Literally. The old apartment is dark and dreary and the new apartment has windows throughout and just feels bright and cheery. Plus, we'll have all our favorite furniture and comforts from home to make us feel at ease. I've always thought that "stuff" was very unimportant and found it sad that people got so attached to the the "things" in their lives. And though I still believe that the friends and family in our lives are more valuable than any material things, the "stuff" in our lives plays a part in the memories we build and gives me a sense of who I am. Hmmm.... I think that sounds both deep and shallow at the same time. To put it in simpler terms, I can't wait to sit my back side down on my comfy couch and enjoy the beautiful view from our new apartment. And let me just tell you, the dishwasher better damned well work.

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to all the mom's I miss back home! I also missed my normal Mother's Day of lunching and shopping with my Mom and sisters, and secretly was happy that they weren't able to do it this year. I'm telling myself it's because they couldn't bear to go on with our tradition without me and would have spent the day sobbing through the mall reminiscing about all the wonderful shopping memories I'd given them over the years. But in reality it had nothing to do with me and 2 of the 3 of them were out of town.

We celebrated an unusual Mother's day today here in Switzerland. It was nothing short of a dream come true for me. Prepare yourself to be filled with envy. I spent my Mother's Day with my husband and 3 kids at (drum roll please........) the circus! Now I know some of you are remembering your day of pedicures and swedish massages and thinking "Damn her! She has all the luck!" and of course, I can't blame you. But Bryan has always known how to treat a woman and today was no exception.

All joking aside, it was a pretty fun day. We met a great family who just moved here from L.A. and mom Crystal also married a "smooth operator" who decided the circus was a wonderful token of appreciation for the mother of his children. We're a couple of lucky ladies. Unfortunately they weren't appreciative of our mothering skills enough to book us the good seats and we spent a good deal of the show looking at elephant butts, horse butts, and trapeze artists butts. But it was entertaining none-the-less!

The circus was called "Circus Knie" and it is the main circus of Switzerland. It has been around since 1803 and definately has a different feel than Circus's in the States. The only other circus I have been to lately was the Ringling Bros circus at the Allstate Arena. At that circus, I think we spent about a $100 on overpriced glow sticks and flashlights that act as mini strobe lights. The kids were more into the cotton candy and popcorn than the circus because we were so far up we could hardly see the yippy dogs jumping through hoops.

This circus was an old fashioned circus in a big circus tent set up in the middle of the city. (The same spot as the burning of frosty) There was one small circus ring where the performance took place and even with bad seats we were only about 20 feet from the action. At one point the other mom, Crystal, leaned over and said, "This seems like the kind of circus where something tragic might happen and we'll all be scarred for life!" Visions of out of control elephants trampling the crowd, or tightrope walkers plummeting to their deaths quickly crossed my mind. Fortunately, there was no Mother's Day tragedy, other than the fact that we were at a circus on Mother's Day.

There were 5 elephants that were crammed into the ring doing their typical circus tricks and lots of beautiful horses that ran around the ring. There was only one clown and he wasn't all that funny, but there were 3 guys dressed in sailor costumes and the boys found their schtick pretty amusing. The trapeze artists were pretty amazing and performed without nets, but the tight rope walkers? No so much. They didn't use nets either, but were only about 8 feet off the ground. I quickly realized there was a reason for this because both tightrope walkers fell off numerous times. It may have just been an off day for them, but it reminded me of watching my 4 year old on the balance beam.

The only disturbing part of the circus was when they brought out audience members to try and reenact some of the stunts performed by the professionals. They put them in waist harnesses with a rope attached that was on a pulley from the top of the tent. The audience members were to run up to a horse and try to leap on it with the help of someone from the circus pulling the rope to help lift them off the ground. Their next trick was to try to stand up on the horse as it galloped around the ring. The first 3 audience members were entertaining and as they fell from the horse while trying to stand they would swing from the rope and then a circus performer would help them down. Then, the 4th audience member came out. She was a pleasantly plump woman who made the unfortunate decision to wear a skirt to the circus. She ran up to the horse and pretty much ran face first into the side of it. They had some trouble pulling her off the ground to get her on the horse and this is when she flipped upside down exposing her from the waist down. Thank God for nylons. When they finally got her on the horse, she looked terrified as it ran around the ring and needless to say, she never stood up. When she fell and started swinging by the rope around the ring, they made a big production of it and she slammed into the circus worker, landing on top of him. Public humiliation has no place in a circus. Unless of course you're getting paid for it.

The thing I found most refreshing about the circus was the lack of concessions. At the intermission, everyone went outside and there was a small stand to buy popcorn, ice cream and a few other snacks. There were no obnoxious novelty toys or cotton candy the size of your head. It was all about enjoying the circus and my kids didn't miss all the rest of the garbage at all. For 2 1/2 hours the kids were glued to the circus acts and it seemed like good wholesome fun. When asked afterwords what they liked best about the circus, Z said "Everything!", C said "The funny guys in the sailor costumes!" and E excitedly yelled, "The Penguins!!!!". Apparently the rest of us missed the penguin portion of the show.

So all in all, a pretty great Mother's Day with the kids. Days like this remind me why I love being a mom to my 3 little goofballs, and I wouldn't want to be experiencing Switzerland any other way than with the 3 of them and my sweet, if not suave, husband. Happy Mother's Day!

My Nemesis

Since moving in 3 weeks ago, the dishwasher here at our temporary apartment has not been working. It turns on, sounds like it's working, and gets the dishes wet. But when the cycle is finished running, the dishes are still dirty and the soap is still sitting in clumps in the bottom. I've been negotiating with anyone who will listen to get out of doing the dishes by hand. When my mom was staying with us, I was the cook and she would wash the dishes afterwards. Now that she's gone, I've had to do it a few times, but my sweet husband has done it more often than not. Now that he's sick of doing the dishes, we've finally decided to call our relocation consultant and try to get it fixed. Sounds simple enough, right? That's what I thought....

The relocation consultant got in contact with the building maintenance man who arrived to check out the dishwasher as I was trying to get the kids out the door to school. After checking it out for 5 minutes, he motions for me to come over and starts explaining in German what he has found to be the problem. I indicate with an "I'm a moron" look on my face that I have NO idea what he's saying. This does not dissuade him from trying to explain to me in German what the problem is. Finally, he concedes that I am in fact a moron, and indicates that the relocation consultant will call me to explain.

Later in the day, the consultant emails Bryan with news on the dishwasher. She wrote:

The building attandant reported to me that the dishwasher does need some "Klarspüler" and some "Spülmaschinen Salz" in order to work well again. You will find these products in every supermarket.

Oooooohhhhhh! Klarspüler and Suplmaschinen Salz! Boy, don't I feel stupid. Why didn't I think of that? Of COURSE it needs Klarspuler and Spülmaschinen Salz! Everyone knows that...

At this point it is Sunday and the only market open is the one at the trainstation. So I walk to the train station and enter the small grocery store to find that 472 other people needed to shop on Sunday too. I find my way to the area right by the checkout where the cleaning products are and start scanning the shelves for the words Klarspüler and Spülmaschinen Salz. I scanned and scanned and scanned thinking surely I've missed it. I look around for a friendly face that might be able to help me. All I see are lots of German speaking people who are annoyed that they are waiting in a ridiculously long line for groceries. I cut my losses and head back to the apartment empty handed, hoping there are plenty of paper plates in the cupboard for dinner.

The next day, E and I set out for a much larger grocery store in the town where we will soon be living. I find the cleaning products aisle and again search for these 2 common dishwashing products. Again, these words are nowhere to be found. Seriously?!? At this point E starts getting noisy and crabby and is rewarded with a lollipop. I refuse to leave the grocery store without Klarspüler and Spülmaschinen Salz. I see a guy stocking the shelves and in my best cheerful Swiss voice I say, "Gruetzi! Sprechen zee English?". Without looking up, he says "no". Ummm, seeing as how "no" is an english word, I do not back down. He realizes I am still standing there and as soon as he makes eye contact I put my grocery list in front of his face and point to my 2 desired items. At this point, he becomes very friendly and walks over to the shelves and finds what he indicates with hand gestures and lots of German words to be Klarspüler and Spülmaschinen Salz. "Merci! Merci! Merci!" I said and considered hugging him out of gratitude. He didn't look like the hugging type so I headed to the checkout. As I was waiting in line, I looked at the 2 products he had given me and realized neither package had the words Spülmaschinen Salz or Klarspüler on them. E is now done with her lollipop and I'm late to pick Z up from school, so I hope for the best and pay for my groceries.

After Bryan arrived home that night I proudly showed him what I believed to be Klarspüler and Spulmaschinen Salz. I take out the manual for the dish washer to find it is written completely in German. No problem! That's what Google Translate is for. I spent the next 20 minutes typing in the directions for putting the products in the machine. When I hit the Translate button, this is a sample of what it came up with-

Bottom of the dish basket verscholubkappe machine and found the open salzbehalters

Ointment halter fill with water

Hmmm.... I certainly don't know where to find the ointment halter, so I show Bryan the compartments where I believe the Klarspüler and Spülmaschinen Salz go and I tell him to just dump the stuff in until it's full. Bryan started to object to my random wild guesses about how to fix the dishwasher but thought better of it when he heard me cursing at Google Translate under my breathe. Finally, he closed the door of the dishwasher and miraculously, the two lights that had been on indicating a problem, went off! Hallelujah! We high fived and congratulated ourselves on our perseverance. This was a major victory for team Mj.

We filled up the dishwasher with dirty dishes and listened to the sound of our dishes being cleaned. Like music to my ears! An hour later, I opened up the dishwasher to see the fruits of our labor. What do you suppose I found? A dishwasher full of wet but still dirty dishes.

I swore at the dishwasher, opened a bottle of Chardonnay, and reminded myself that tomorrow is a new day.

A trip to the "almost" Top of Europe

Today was a holiday here in Zurich. There is some dispute between Bryan and I whether it is May Day or Labor day. I looked for a Maypole celebration as we drove through town so I could do an "I told you so!" in a very mature and adult like way, but no luck. So there is a very slight chance he might be right. But that's neither here nor there because all that really matters is there was no school or work today. And much like every Sunday here in Switzerland, EVERYTHING was closed. So we decided a little late in the morning to head out on a family outing.

We opted for Interlaken, Switzerland, a mere 2 hour drive from Zurich. Fortunately, I have made one VERY close friend here in Switzerland. Her name is Heidi and she lives inside our GPS device. She talks to me in perfect English and although she seems to have a major problem knowing her Left from her Right, we've gotten very close. I appreciate the way she slaughters all the names of the streets in Zurich and I correct her from time to time like any good friend would. It's nice to have a BFF to drive around town with.

The drive to Interlaken was beautiful, and just as we thought it couldn't get any more breath taking, we'd come out of a tunnel to a more amazing view. Even the kids got into it as we got closer to the mountains and voluntarily turned off their Leapsters to take a look. I started a new rule for this trip. Pictures were not to be taken from inside the car while driving. Bryan has some issues with taking pictures and thinks it's perfectly acceptable to take scenic pictures through the car window. Not only does this cause me to grip my seat dramatically and make comments about how we're going to careen off the side of a mountain, but it also makes me insane when there are bug carcasses from the windshield featured in our photo albums. So we took our time getting there and stopped at lots of scenic overlooks.

We drove through the beautiful town of Interlaken and oohed and aahed at all the charming restaurants and hotels. C noticed the sky was filled with paragliders and we watched as they floated through the air and landed gracefully in a field outside of town. It looked like SO MUCH FUN and I felt the stirrings of my old adventurous self creep up. Bryan must have noticed because after we had lunch, he asked the kids if they wanted to see Mommy hanglide off the mountain. The boys were all over it, although Z (my little dare devil) was a little disappointed he couldn't meet the height requirement to do it himself. Bryan dragged C over to a booth to get some information about paragliding and the persistent sales lady soon had me considering leaping off a mountain while my kids watched from below. Very tempting. In the end we agreed that we would return another weekend so I could perform my death defying feat. Although my leather boots and silk scarf would have looked fabulous from below, I decided it probably wasn't the attire for paragliding.

Instead, Bryan went to a travel office and booked us tickets to Jungfraujoch, also known as the top of Europe. I stayed outside with the kids while he booked us some pricey train tickets. The kids were getting restless and starting to run around and chase each other. I decided to put my best parenting/teaching skills into play and started a game of follow the leader with them. It worked and they were suddenly orderly and quiet. As I was parading them around the area where the travel office was, I thought, "Wow! I feel like I have my act together. The kids are behaving, I'm not stressed out, this is great!". Then I saw something alarming out of the corner of my eye. Was that 2 completely naked women on a poster in that window? Much to my horror, there were multiple pornographic posters in the window of the store I had "led" my young children past. Oh my God, I had been parading my kids back and forth past the display window of a porn shop!!! I don't know how I missed the giant sign with the less than creative store name "Sex Shop", but I'm sure the people passing us on the street thought I was the WORST mother on earth. Fortunately, by some miracle, none of them noticed the posters and our game of Follow the Leader quickly moved to the opposite end of the block. I was relieved when Bryan returned and I could confess my terrible parenting moment.

Finally, we were on our way. We enticed the kids with talk of glaciers and traveling through mountains to get to the very top of the tallest mountain in Europe. (We're not completely sure this is true, but they're young enough not to do the research.) E was well past her naptime now as it was mid-afternoon. Z had been up since 6 a.m. and looked like he hadn't slept for days. He worked himself into a fit of tears anytime something didn't go his way. Did this stop the "always up for fun" Mjaanes family from stepping on a train for a 2 hour ride up a mountain? Of course not! Should it have stopped us from starting our 2 hour trip up the mountain? Hell yes! If we'd had a theme song for our trip up the mountain, it would have been Ozzie Osbourne's "Crazy Train". There was crying, pushing, dropped lollipops, and fights about whether the windows should be opened or closed. Good Times.

Our planned trip required taking 3 different trains to get to Jungfraujoch. The scenery was the most beautiful I have ever seen. Waterfalls, snow caps, glaciers and green valleys everywhere you looked. My words don't do it justice and neither do the pictures, but I promise to take anyone who visits us on this trip, because you will never forget it. It's hard for me to imagine there is a more beautiful place on earth. I didn't even care that the kids were crabby at this point, because I felt so lucky to have the opportunity to see this view. That is, until the conductor came by and looked at our tickets on the second leg of our trip. He kindly asked us if we were planning on staying at the top of the mountain. I figured he was checking to see if he was going to have to endure another train ride back down the mountain with my crabby kids. When we let him know that we were heading back down after Jungfraujoch, he grew very concerned. "This is the last train up the mountain. You will not have time to go to Jungfraujoch unless you stay overnight at the top!" he told us in excellent English. We had no extra clothes or toiletries and it occurred to us that we had just spent the day traveling to get to the "Top of Europe" and were going to have to abort mission only 30 minutes from our destination. We felt like total idiots.

So we spent an hour at Kleine Sheidegg where we were supposed to catch our train to Junfraujoch. It is basically a ski area that has closed down for the season. On the up side, there was lots of snow and the kids enjoyed having a snowball fight. I did get to see a dogsledder which I found oddly fascinating. And we had a pretty good view of a couple of glaciers, which was a first for all of us. How did two reasonably bright, educated adults not plan ahead before setting out on an adventure with 3 little kids, you ask? Well, instead of taking accountability, we're blaming the guy at the ticket office. When we went back to get a refund for our unused portion of the trip, the owner of the travel office was very apologetic and told us the guy who sold us the tickets was very sick and "not doing too well" in the head. Bryan refrained from telling her that after our trip, I was not doing too well in the head either. Luckily, I stayed in the car.

The ride home was sketchy at best and although I wasn't driving, I did threaten to pull the car over several times. The boys finally kept themselves busy by deciding that every time we went through a tunnel, (and there are lots of long tunnels) they were going to sing "Scooby Dooby Doo , Where are you?" over and over again at the top of their lungs. The theme song for this portion of our trip would be AC/DC's "Highway to Hell". Finally, with only 10 minutes left in our drive home, they all passed out from exhaustion.

I learned 3 valuable lessons from the days travels.

1. ALWAYS check the train schedule before departing.

2. NEVER push the limits when it comes to sleep deprived children.

3. ALWAYS check out your surrounds before playing follow the leader with small children.

A rough trip for all, but it provided great stories for laying in bed laughing hysterically at the end of the day. Thank goodness for a sense of humor.