Bon Jour Bruxelles!

We made it. It wasn't easy, but we did it. And somehow, against all odds, it's 7AM and the kids and dogs are still sleeping. Stefan is in the shower, getting ready for work and it's almost like nothing has changed. Almost...

Arriving at JFK on Monday afternoon, we had 11 bags, two dogs, two babies, two giant dog crates, a double-wide stroller, three adoring grandparents and a lot of nerves. We arrived with what we thought was a comfortable 3 hours early for our flight, but by the time we'd checked the dogs and our bags in, said goodbye to the grandparents, made our way through security and had a beer in the "lounge" (Stefan accumulated "platinum status" thanks to his previous job), the plane was boarding. In true Whitney-fashion, we still had to run for the plane and were the last to board.

The flight itself was brutal, but could have been much worse. It could have easily been twice as long, so I am counting my lucky stars. After about 2 hours of excited babbling, Flora fell asleep and stayed so until we landed. Adela on the other hand, slept nary a wink and vomited all over herself and her car seat about an hour before we landed, forcing us and the flight crew to scramble to find cleaning supplies and something to supress the characteristic odor. I had a lovely French-speaking gentleman tap me on the shoulder in the midst of her embarrassed sobbing to alert me that "it is quite unusual for a child to cry so much, no?" I wanted to jump over the seat and throttle his tidy, European neck.

There was very little turbulence and that was a blessed good thing because every time the plane so much as leaned too much in one direction or another, I found my heart in my stomach thinking of our nervous, four-legged family members down below. When we forced Otis into his crate at the airport, he was terrified-- panting and looking wild-eyed and vulnerable. Rudi seemed perfectly at ease, but had the fear of his previous life to contend with. It was with much reluctance that we said goodbye after security at JFK. Thinking of them in the belly of the plane throughout the 8-hour flight was arguably worse than cleaning the toddler-vomit from the crevices in Addy's car seat.

All the anxiety was for naught because despite a very long wait upon arrival in Brussels, Otis and Rudi seemed less nervous than when we'd left them. They were happy to see us, happy to get out of their kennels and as relieved as we were . They were perfectly fine and still are, 24 hours later. I have no regrets at all about bringing them with us. Stefan and I are still most amused that our dogs are now in Belgium. How funny.

We were picked up by one of Stef's colleagues, who was lovely and informative, but who laughed when were told her we expected our cable and internet to be set up at our house when we got there and that we expected to receive our household effects in time for Christmas. Despite her considerable skepticism, I remain hopeful.

Our house is lovely-- spacious and clean and everything we hoped it would be. Our neighborhood is sleepy, but charming. There's a small square two blocks away with a large grocery store, a butcher, a bakery, a small gourmet shop, a dry cleaner, a gas station, and a book store. We have several playgrounds, or pleins du jeux, within walking distance as well.

All things considered, we are very happy to be here and very happy with our home. I look forward to venturing out today with the girls and the dogs to see what else the commune of Woluwe St. Pierre has to offer.

And for those we are interested, the State Department furniture is just as bad as we'd feared. So, I am glad I insisted on bringing as much stuff as we did. It's going to take an awful lot of decorative savvy to overcome the "scrolly knobs" and stylized upholstery.

The Final Days...

Wow. It's been a really wild few days... er, weeks. We've been ticking off one item at a time from our "to-do" list, the vast majority of which seems to somehow involve the dogs. I have been at some type of veterinary establishment for each of the last three days, compiling Otis and Rudi's medical records and mounting proof that they are indeed Rabies free and fit for travel. Today's trip to the USDA in Annapolis was (hopefully) the final step. The tricky part of transporting dogs is that none of the paperwork is valid unless it's done within 10 days of travel, so no matter how organized and proactive you are, there's no way to really prepare ahead of time, with the considerable exception of knowing exactly what you have to do beforehand.

So, all of our stuff has been shipped and by all accounts is on a freighter somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Our car was picked up today and will be loaded onto another ship on Friday. Our newly purchased luggage has arrived and is sitting, across the living room, staring at me, wondering when I am going to fill it up (gosh, I hope all that remains will fit!!!) It seems like everything is in order. There are still a few items on that "to-do" list, but nothing insurmountable-- just little things like buying a weather guard for our double BoB stroller and doing a couple of loads of laundry.

In five days, Stefan, Adela, Flora, Otis, Rudi and I will board a plane, bound for Brussels, Belgium. It is a fact that I have no way of processing in advance. I feel sudden moments of electrifying excitement. I feel utterly exhilarated by all the unknowns. I can't wait to see our house. I can't wait to take my first walk around our neighborhood. I dream of the local restaurant that will soon become "ours" on the nights I don't feel up to cooking. I can't wait to ingratiate myself to the local butcher, baker and candlestick maker! I want to make the most of every minute that we live in Brussels because if the last 7 months is any indication, time is going to go by terrifyingly fast.

I do feel very blessed that our first post is one in Western Europe. While it might have been nice to be in a more affordable place, where babysitters and household help would be within our reach, I think the undeniable comfort of Europe and the excitement surrounding it is just what we need right now as a family. We've had a tough few years. My mother is very ill, as I've recently described. My father is arguably more ill, as he is a terrible alcoholic who seems to have reached rock bottom in the last year (let's hope) and has done everything in his power to bring the rest of us down with him. Subsequently, he and my stepmother are splitting up and that is proving to be as ugly and painful as it was the first time around for me. In addition, Stefan's mother suffers from Alzheimer's, the most tragic disease of all and one that requires all of his father's attention and patience.

All of this has happened as we have been building our own family, trying to become whole and grown-up. With every joy we've experienced in the last two years, it seems some hidden challenge jumps out from a closet to threaten that happiness. It has been said that God gives you just as much as you can handle. While I am not entirely sure about the "god" part, I do feel as though the universe posted us to just the right place, a place where we can be comfy, cozy and free to focus on being our best selves. I look forward to that, more than anything.

And on that note, here are two recent pictures of our girls. Addy is talking-- stringing together sentence after sentence. Flora is crawling and knows the meaning of "mama" and "dada." Her little mouth is rapidly filling with super sharp teeth and she's growing up way too fast for my taste.

Adela, 2 years:

Flora, 8 months:

The House of a Thousand Couches/Packout Part Deux

Ooooops, guess I misunderstood the housing manual. I thought it said that we had one opportunity to tell them which furniture we didn't want. I was wrong. That opportunity is rare and well, they are going to provide full sets of living room, dining room, family room and bedroom furniture. Unfortunately, I packed TWO sectional couches, one a monstrous three piece and the other, a small two piece I intended to use in the playroom. I was thinking that I didn't want to sit on an uncomfortable, government-issued couch for two years and we had plenty of room in our shipment. As it turns out, they are currently unwilling to even consider the possibility of removing the two full-size sofas, love seat and two easy chairs from our furniture inventory (there's currently no furniture in the house because it's a newly acquired property). On the plus side, we will have plenty of seating should we choose to throw any massive house parties. On the other hand, we're going to be walking across couches to get to and from the kitchen and bathrooms. Oye. I am such an amateur.

So, yeah, the pack-out was yesterday and I think the biggest snafu was the one I just described. I stupidly assumed that they would actually be pleased if we told them not to move in the couches. I don't know. Bureaucracy is so unpredictable and often, irrational. I really hope they take pity on us when they see the embarrassment of couches at our house.

We also cut it impossibly close with our weight limit. I think we just made it with 4 lbs. to spare. We brought A LOT of stuff and here's why: when we did our initial pack-out in NJ, I was still recovering from childbirth and Flora (henceforth called "FiFi," because that's what we call her at home) was only 8 weeks old. Addy was at her most irrational and it seemed impossible to spend the necessary time organizing our things. So, we have no idea where things ended up and those tattooed packers did NOT inspire confidence. We thought by bringing just about everything, we'd be able to do a better job next time. That said, there's not much room to expand, so we're hoping to purge quite a bit of stuff while in Europe.

All in all, It's really nice to have that part over with. The Oakwood apartment is no longer cluttered and feels like it could be any one's. There's nothing "Whitney" about it. Just a wash of beige and dark maple.

2 1/2 weeks and we'll be in Brussels. The waiting is quickly coming to an end. I am carrying the weight of a thousand and one emotions. Sad to be leaving my family and friends, but elated by the possibilities and opportunities for reinvention. It's a wonderful, challenging, overwhelming journey and we are just at the beginning.

The Incredible Flying Labradudes

I have come to realize that when it comes to dogs in the foreign service, there are two schools of thought. There are those who have the "my dogs go where I go" attitude and then there's the "this is not a good life for a dog" folks. Unfortunately, I've noticed, that many people who have the former attitude are new to the FS, while those who think dogs are best left stateside are seasoned officers. This is a total generalization. In fact, we have a friendly neighbor, a 25-year veteran of the service, who dotes on his petite female Lab with as much dedication as any landlubber would. But in fairness, he seems to be an exception.

As anyone who has kept up with my blog knows, we have two, large Labrador Retrievers. Otis, the elder statesman of the two, celebrated his 12th year over the weekend. Retrievers have an unfortunate average lifespan of 10-12 years. But this an average, which takes into account all the fluky passings of much younger dogs from heart attacks, strokes, and defects of other varieties. This reminds me of our recently departed friend, Mac, who was taken last month by a large tumor on his heart. He was only 9 and his death was unfair. It was also exceptional. MOST retrievers live well into the double digits, as Otis father proved by living to an energetic 16 years!

Now to the heart of the matter: We are flying to Brussels in less than 4 weeks and we have, just today, begun to get very serious about preparing our pooches for the flight. It has me thinking a lot about the impact this is going to have on my old pal. If you has asked me even three years ago if I would be willing to put him in a crate and fly him for 9 hours, I would have said, "absolutely not. We'll drive... or take a boat... or anything other than that!" But, now, our very livelihood depends on flying to foreign countries and Brussels is a very canine friendly place. There isn't really a choice... except that I could leave the old guy with my mother, which is completely uncharacteristic of me. I have never gone anywhere without him.

But, I am definitely agonizing over this. I am definitely imagining all the worst case scenarios. He's very sensitive and easily agitated and he's utterly co-dependent, so no matter how you slice it, the flight itself is going to be torture for him. The real question is: after the flight is over, will he be okay and back to his old self? Will he suffer any long-term emotional damage? (You're probably wondering why I am not worried about Rudi. He's a rescue dog and has been through far worse. He's also kind of a silly bone-head. I have total confidence he'll come out the baggage hold wagging his tail, with the same goofy look on his face. He's also 6.) Ugh. I have said it before and I am going to say it again, having the dogs is the toughest part of all of this and it was the biggest obstacle to my agreeing to do it. Now, here we are and I really hope it's all just going to be okay...

Shameless Self-Promotion and Holy Shi@, it's time to Pack!

Well, I am proud to report that I am keeping up a Halloween tradition started by my mother when I was a child. It's the one where the mother works tirelessly to construct a handmade costume for a child who will have no idea the amount of work that went into it until she has children of her own. It's taken 33 years, but now I understand the blood, sweat and tears that my mother put into all the amazing costumes she made for me as a child. I also understand the extreme pride she must have felt as I walked around in those costumes. I was so proud of Adela and of course, myself, when she wore this Madame Butterfly costume around the halls of the Oakwood, collecting candy of all varieties (much to her shock and amazement):

Holidays are so much more fun when you have children to celebrate with. Seeing Adela's uninhibited joy was as powerful as anything I have ever experienced. Christmas is going to be SO FUN!

In unrelated news, we have officially scheduled our pack-out. We decided to do it earlier than we had originally thought because we want our things to arrive in time for the big family Christmas we have planned in Belgium and because without all the stuff that has completely taken over our Oakwood apartment, it will be easy to move to another unit that isn't quite so surrounded by construction noise. Seriously, I know there are many who are suffering at the hands of this renovation, but we are one apartment literally surrounded by apartments (above and to each side) that are under construction. I feel like I am living an episode of "Candid Camera." Just when I think it couldn't get any more ridiculous, I hear a drill coming straight for my head from the ceiling above my bed. At this point, all I can do is laugh-- it's just too unbelievable that they would leave us in such a state...

So, our HHE is going to get packed out from the Oakwood in a week and I am nowhere near ready. It's time to get down to business. I want to mention that we have a surplus of baby toys and clothes that we will probably toss into the garbage if no one else wants them. Is there anyone out there reading this who would like some high-fashion infant clothes and toys that suit the 0-12 month set? If so, please let me know and I will get them to you!

I swear I am going to a better job at organizing this packout than I did for the last one. I mean, my father-in-law made the joke that the movers might have packed "dirty pampers" the last time, and now, seven months later, I am not entirely sure that our stuff is going to arrive in Brussels without the distinctive smell of a 8-month old, soiled diaper. It was that bad...

As I have mentioned in the past, this kind of organization and preparation is not my strong suit, so wish me luck as I enter into this next phase of transition.

P.S. After rereading this post, I have to clarify that we would never simply throw perfectly good clothes and toys into the GARBAGE! We will, of course, donate them all if no friends or family are interested.