Punctuality

Today Kirk was asked to talk in Sacrament Meeting. The topic: punctuality. It seemed a bit strange, but we assumed it was because a lot of people have been running late for church meetings. He did find a nice insight about how charity relates to punctuality, though.

This morning, Edward decided he wasn't going to get dressed for church. To get to church, we have to leave an hour early and take a street car/tram to the end of the line, and then take a bus to the church building. We have to leave early because if you miss a tram or a bus, you end up having to wait a while for the next one because it is the Sunday schedule and the public transportation doesn't run as often (every 10-15 minutes instead of every 5-7 minutes).

Since it was time to go and Edward was still in his pajamas, I told Kirk to take Andrew, Lucy, and Henry and just go. It wouldn't be very good for the speaker on punctuality to be late for church. Then I waited for Edward to get dressed. He suddenly started to move a bit after he saw everyone left. Later he said, "I didn't hear you tell me to get dressed," as his reason for not getting ready for church. Maybe someone else has a better insight into a 7-year-old boy's mind than I do.

We have two tram stops near our apartment, so when Edward was ready, we hurried out of the house and went to the closer one (well, both are about the same distance from us, but one seems closer) at the Franz-Josefs-Bahnhof. As we got near the street, I saw the tram we needed pulling up, so we started to hurry. I dashed across the street with Edward and the driver opened the door for me and let us on.

At the next stop, there were Kirk and the kids! They had decided to wait for the handicapped-accesible tram (the one we were on) instead of trying to carry the stroller up the three steps on the older trams (it is sort of tricky and I can do it with Andrew since we have some practice, but it is easier if you have two adults to manage the stroller and the steps). At first Kirk was a bit miffed that Edward wasn't going to have a consequence for his tardiness, but Edward apologized and everything was OK.

A bit later into the tram ride, a woman tapped me on my shoulder and said something in German, so I looked and Henry had thrown up all over himself and the stroller.

During the night, Kirk had felt a bit sick like he had eaten something bad, but he was doing better this morning. I was up for an hour or so in the night checking on everyone, but no one else seemed to be sick. Henry had seemed sort of tired and listless this morning and I was starting to wonder if he was OK because he is usually full of energy.

So, it turned out to be a blessing that we ended up on the same tram. When we got to the next stop, which thankfully was the final stop, we all got off and Kirk took the other children and caught the bus to church. I started to wipe off Henry. A man with an open beer can in his hand (at 9 in the morning?) handed me a stack of napkins so I could wipe off the stroller and Henry. He seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of napkins. Then he helped me clean out the stroller. I kept saying "danke schön!"--one of my few German phrases. I pulled off Henry's clothes and put them in one of the plastic bags I have learned to always take with me. Then I put Henry back in the stroller, sitting on yet another useful plastic bag, and got back on the tram to the apartment.

Henry perked up, drank some water, and is now taking a nap.

Henry when he is not sick.

Running around on the grass at the Hofburg on Saturday.

I've washed clothes and the stroller. It was nice the stroller is small enough to sort of fit in the bathtub.

A dose of gratitude

We've been having a hard time today with almost non-stop squabbling. But, in the evening Andrew gave me a hug and said that giving Mom a hug was better than giving Dad a hug. It was nicer. Then Edward said that he always feels alone unless he is with me, even when Dad is there (sorry Kirk). Even at school he feels alone, and he doesn't like it. They all agreed that being with Mom is the best.

All of them within a few feet of me.

Accounting

I'm finally getting caught up on my accounting for the end of March and first of April. It is a mess, with money in dollars, euros, and forints. I don't think I'll be able to sort it out completely until May. But, as part of the accounting, I looked at how much I spent on groceries in March (and this is not ever "eating out" as a family, though we did buy Easter candy and ice cream cones once and Kirk buys cheap meals at the university café in Budapest when he is there working): $1,700.
I think I will pretend that figure doesn't exist.
People weren't kidding when they said that food is expensive here. I guess I shouldn't be surprised when we pay $4 for 10 (smaller-than-medium) eggs. The other clue was that the U.S. State Department per diem (food) allowance for one person in Vienna was about $1,300/month.
The other day we had to pay for something and I handed Kirk a 100 Euro note. He sort of gasped and said something about my not blinking at handing over that much money. I thought for a minute and said, well, this is just about what I hand the clerk at Billa grocery store every time I go shopping.
It is sort of like the exit fee at Costco, except instead of having enough food for several weeks piled in your cart, you have enough to get you through two, maybe three, days, if you are lucky. And 4-year-old Lucy  and I can wheel it back to the apartment in a small hand trolley, with a few extra bags for strawberries (so they don't get smashed) and toilet paper.
Budapest was cheaper. But, after a week there, Kirk and I realized there was a reason the Spirit told us to stay in Vienna as a family. Vienna is much easier for a family with young children, though ironically, the health care is worse.

Budapest Blessing

It was hard to be in Budapest for a week, for a number of reasons, none of which I'm going to detail right now. However, one of the blessings we had was that every day, two or three older Hungarian women would talk to me (in Hungarian, or sometimes the few words they knew of German/French/English) about my children and help me with them. One woman carried Lucy down the escalator in the metro since Lucy was scared and I was balancing the Henry's stroller on the escalator. Several helped get children on and off of public transport. One made all the other people on the tram move so we could sit down. Others just told me how beautiful and wonderful the children were. It was sort of interesting how much we could communicate without knowing the language. When the children were being especially nasty, it was good to be reminded what a blessing it is to have them in our family.
You can see more of what we did at the other blog.