Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Once Christmas arrived, our family trip over seas improved greatly.
Everyone was adjusted to the new time zone, no one was coughing, sniffing or puking, time spent with aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents was most enjoyable but, not without little glitches.
Our daughter’s appetite returned with a vengeance requiring Mommy to perform the Heimlich maneuver (successfully, thank God) three times and the boys, having become used to people gushing over them, needed a few attitude adjustments - nothing we couldn’t handle.
So, we opted to do some sightseeing. After all, we aren’t in Austria every day.
Off to Vienna. When I saw the streets lined with carriages I just had to pet the horses. I think I played it off well, but I nearly lost my hand to a not-so-friendly equine. (What is it I tell my kids? Oh, yes! “Never touch an animal you don’t know!”)
Hand throbbing, we proceeded to St. Stephen’s cathedral. Never leave it to a man to lead the way - they don’t ask for directions or read signs.
More than 300 steps later (no kidding), we stood - legs wobbling - in the bell tower (not the Sanctuary) overlooking the city.
The “Stairway to Heaven,” we aptly dubbed it, was breath-taking, literally, but, so was the view.
The kids stayed with their grandfather while we visited Vienna, but on our last day we all bravely went to Salzburg (although our daughter was again showing signs of the sniffles).
The streets of Salzburg were lined with Christmas lights, decorations and people.
We squeezed our way into the Mozart Museum where our Griswold-syndrome continued. Tante (aunt) Monika unknowingly dumped a sippy-cup of milk from the diaper bag onto the floor of Mozart’s birth house (sshhh!!).
But, before we could get to the nearest exit, our 5-year-old son, who is notorious for not missing out on a public bathroom informed us of his need to, well, you know.
As luck might have it, things began spiraling again in the last leg of the trip. The baby had a full-blown cold, pinched her fingers in a cabinet and barely slept; and the airport security selected my husband to go through a random security check right before boarding our flight which left me with three kids, a car seat, carry-on bags and a stroller to board on my own.
The flight itself was uneventful if you consider a child (not ours) flipping my husband’s food tray, a rude passenger shoving my sons seat into upright position (Really? You need those extra two inches so much, then fly first-class!) and the dirty looks we received for dare having kids - who were actually quite well behaved - on a 10 (yes, 10, thank you head-wind) hour flight home.
But, we made it; home sweet home! And Santa had even came while we were gone!
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