Wordless Wednesday: Beetle

A Visit From St. Nicholas

An American 5 year old's version
of St. Nicholas

One of my favorite aspects of living overseas is learning about local traditions. As Americans it is all too easy to assume that just because we celebrate a holiday in a certain way everyone else does as well. But that is not the case and this is what I love about being in Europe. And what is even better is that Sidney is learning about different holiday celebrations in his Belgian school then gets to share, and many times introduce, the traditions to us. I think it is wonderful that he is learning that there are different ways of celebrating holidays and other important days with no way being better than the other. Hence was the case last week when St. Nicholas visited his school.

Saint Nicholas is the forefather of the American Santa Claus who fills stockings on the 25th of December and thus his story is similar yet different than the American version. His name is derived from his Dutch name of "Sinterklaas". There are other similarities as well. Both dress in red but Sinterklaas dons a bishops robe and mitre. Santa has his posse of elves while Sinterklaas has helpers who are called "Pere Fouettard". Rather than wearing tights and smocks their clothes pay homage to their Moorish roots. In a dark twist that would probably be deemed unacceptable to Americans, the Pere Fouttard are said to put the children who have been bad in their sacks and take them back to Spain where they live during the rest of the year. (No frosty North Pole temperatures for Sinterklaas and his helpers).

St. Nicholas' actual birthday falls on the 6th of December and is aptly called Saint Nicholas Day. Here in the Benelux, on the evening of the 5th children leave their empty shoes (or in the Netherlands, their clogs) in front of the fireplace with the hopes that upon waking in the morning they will find them filled with treats. Hay and carrots are often left for the reindeer. As is the case with the American Santa, good children awaken to find their shoes filled with goodies while bad children receive nothing. Here, the story is the same as it is in America. And the festive atmosphere that surrounds the lead up to his arrival? That too is the same.

A few weeks ago Sidney's teacher put out the call for empty plastic water bottles for an upcoming project. When I queried Sidney about it he smugly told me that I needed to wait to see what they were making. Each day he came home with small progress reports and all I could surmise was that a lot of cutting and gluing was involved. Sidney said it was hard but fun. Early last week Sidney informed me that St. Nicolas was coming on Friday and that his madame had informed him that the entire class needed to be good if they were to receive a gift. He was excited and when I inadvertently referred to him as Santa Claus I was quickly corrected. And sure enough, this past Friday he visited the school and Sidney came home with not only his gift (a wonderful age appropriate wooden puzzle) and his own small St. Nicholas which Sidney had been laboring over for the past few weeks. He proudly showed me how he had cut then glued each piece. And St. Nicholas is now sitting in his place of honor under our American Christmas tree awaiting the arrival of his cousin Santa Claus later this month.

Christmas itself is still an important holiday here in Europe and it has many of the same over-commercialized aspects that we do in the United States. But despite this widely recognized and celebrated day, Europeans continue to hold onto their St. Nicholas Day celebrations. I love this and hope it is a tradition that is never lost.

Dare To Dissent

All it takes is one person casting their vote in the opposite direction to upset the apple cart. That is what happens when someone dares to take a stand against the group think mentality that seems to encompass community after community. Is it culture that creates group think or is it simply what happens when large numbers of supposedly like minded people come together? But what happens when someone disagrees with everyone else? All too often it seems as though they become outcasts simply for daring to voice their opinion; the same option that others have done but with a different voice. And why is this so wrong?

Group think is a strange phenomenon but I've seen it happen again and again regardless of what community I find myself in. Whether it be an opinion on the local schools, hospitals or the best place to buy vegetables, if anyone dares to express an opinion that goes against the status quo a backlash ensues. This happens quite frequently on social media. First someone (innocently) poses a question. Responses are quick to flow in with one person after another singing the accolades or decrying the quality of the place or item in question. And interestingly enough the replies tend to follow a similar flow...until they don't. Someone expresses an opinion that is counter to those of everyone else. Perhaps they had a negative experience or simply didn't like something but why should their opinion be any less valued than everyone else's? It shouldn't be yet it seems to be. Conversation treads can suddenly take a turn away from the original question at hand and focus on the person who rocked the boat.

Sometimes I feel like I could be the person to rock that boat here. The doctor that everyone gushes about being the best and having a great bedside manner? Well, I was less than impressed. The same goes for the "helpful" customer service that people receive at the grocery store. While not bad per se, I think the people working there are simply doing their job rather than going above and beyond. The best communities and neighborhoods to live in? Well the one that everyone says is horrible and has the most crime is the one I live in and we both love it and feel completely safe. The right option when it comes to schools? Many would disagree, but I'm completely satisfied with the choice we made. After all, each and every one of these opinions are personal and should be respected. None are right and none are wrong; they simply are individual opinions which should remain just that. Yet group think always manages to creep into the mix. Why is that?

Carved From Ice

Its beginning to feel a lot like Christmas here in Belgium. The weather has turned cold (by Belgian standards at least), the days are darker and festive holiday lights are beginning to shine. Its the season for festivals and Christmas markets and this past weekend we kicked it all off by heading to Bruge and attending the annual Ice Sculpture Festival.

The library

Chapel

The ice sculpture festival has become an annual event in Bruge with each year featuring a different theme. This year's theme was The Land of the Hobs with each sculpture invoking images of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit. From the minute we walked in and caught our breaths in the icy cold (yes, it was that cold) we felt as though we were walking through an enchanted land filled with dwarfs and elves, giant spiders and dragons, and chapels, thrones and even a miniature library. No detail was left untouched and even for the non-Hobbit fans amongst us (namely me), it was an enchanting experience. It was pretty amazing to walk amongst the carved scenes where the longer you looked at a scene the more you saw. Just as it did when we visited the sand sculptures in Oostende earlier this year, I was reminded that carving, regardless of the medium, is a true form of art. And while most of the exhibit was (rightfully) hands off, the end brought an indoor castle and slide made completely of ice. Kids of all ages grabbed burlap sacks before climbing up the ice steps to the top of the caste then sliding down the twisty ice slide. And when we had had our fill of sliding and exploring the ice tunnels we could warm up at the ice bar which served hot cocoa, gluwein and other shots of other beverages that were intended to help take the chill off.

And down we go!

We made a day of it by taking the train, exploring the ice festival and then heading into Bruge to visit
their small Christmas market afterwards. Despite attending the festival in the middle of a beautiful Saturday afternoon, the crowds were sparse and there was no wait to get in. Few people made it ideal for actually looking at the sculptures and although it wasn't a concern for my group, it would have been quite easy to navigate with a baby buggy or wheel chair. But be forewarned, it is cold inside with the temperatures hovering around 23 degrees (F) / -6 degrees (C). So dress warmly (and warm yourself up with some gluwein).

It was the perfect way to kick off the holiday season. Cheers!


If you go:

Station Square, Bruge (immediately in front of the train station)
+32 050 20 04 65
www.icesculpture.be
Open daily from 10.00-18.00 from 21 November through 4 January
Adults 15 Euro, Seniors 13 Euro, Children between 3 - 11 11 Euro
Discounted tickets available online and at Belgian rail stations

Wordless Wednesday: Light A Candle

Food Issues

I subscribe to too many magazines for my own good. Most months I scan the pages seeking out a new recipe or a potential travel destination and that is about it. Rarely do I read a full article but a recent piece in Cooking Light magazine caught my eye and had me reading the article in its entirety (twice). The author, Ann Taylor Pitman, is the magazine's Executive Food Editor and the mother of now 8 year old twin boys who were born prematurely at 29 weeks. While the picture of her fragile twins is what first caught my eye and gave me flashbacks to my own tiny baby, it was her discussion of food and nourishment that had me reading each page. Here was a lover of food, someone who incorporated this love into both her personal and professional lives, who was struggling to feed her children and give them the nourishment they needed. Her words rang so many bells with me and reading Pitman's words I was once again reminded of the close link between nutrition and one's health and the struggles that often ensue when the two meet.

I consider myself lucky when it comes to food and eating. Because I love just about all food and am always willing to try new things, eating a balanced diet seems to come naturally to me. I rarely diet, never eliminate any one food or food group from my diet but rather eat all of the things I like in moderation. I prefer unprocessed foods to their pre-packaged counterparts and as I grow older, my sweet tooth has been subsiding. I practiced this type of eating both before and during (as well as after) my pregnancy. In my mind it was a give in that I would breast feed rather than relying on formula, baby food would be homemade and my son would have the same love and curiosity about food that I do. A mother can dream, right?

But life rarely turns out as planned. The idea of breastfeeding flew out the window with Sidney's early birth and while my plentiful supply made bottle fed breast milk a viable option, his doctors wanted it to be fortified with formula. I should have known then that I would be spending the next several years trying to pack as many calories as possible into my son. Reflux made feedings both unpleasant and take twice as long as they should have been and he was slow to take to solid foods. But once Sidney discovered the pleasures of solid food he simply couldn't get enough. I worked overtime making purees of organic fruits, vegetables and meats and he loved them all. Friends introduced him to venison sausages when he wasn't quite a year and a half and he loved them. While the same friends bemoaned their three year old daughter's desire to only eat a handful of plain pasta at each meal I relished the fact that my son finally had an appetite. He was still small but he could eat so my mind raced ahead to the wonderful family meals we would be able to enjoy together.

Unfortunately, as with all things children, Sidney's love of new foods came to a halt as quickly as it had taken off. Fast forward a year and he was the one requesting plain pasta at every meal. Hotdogs, one of the few foods that I all but refuse to eat, were acceptable on occasion if they were first drowned in ketchup. Chicken, beef and lamb were no-gos as was any creature that comes from the water. I spent countless hours trying to entice my son with new foods only to be met with such resistance that I felt perpetually defeated. I worried about his nutrition and the fact that he was still the smallest kid around. But honestly, I was the most horrified by the fact that my son essentially hated the one thing that I loved so much. Food. I mean, how is that even possible? Refusing to give up I became adept at hiding the nutrition in those foods he would eat. Pizza was usually acceptable so homemade pies, loaded with vegetable enriched sauce and red peppers (yes, for some reason he loves raw red peppers) became a weekly menu item. A trip to Italy introduced Sidney to Bolognese sauce so I would make vats of that, again loaded with lean meat and tons of vegetables. And the experiments continued with mixed but often unsatisfactory results.

I know kids go through phases and can often be picky but as a parent I struggle with finding the balance between making sure he is eating a balanced diet and not wanting to force things on him that the truly doesn't like. Although it is getting better, all too often the dinner table becomes an unpleasant experience and the last thing I want to do is to instill a dislike of food and mealtime on him. In my mind food is something that should be enjoyed and celebrated. But even as a food loving person I can't quite figure out how to make this work. Cooking only foods on his "acceptable" list is simply unacceptable to me as is making two separate dinners each night.

So how do I find a balance? Sidney provides input into our weekly dinner menus so there are at least two dinners each week that he has selected. Yes, it often involves pizza or pasta but I add a few vegetables into the mix and we end up with a well balanced meal that goes down without tears. I take full advantage of his wandering into the kitchen, sniffing and stating that something smells good. I'm quick to show him what is cooking and talk about the various ingredients that I know he likes. I know Sidney doesn't like his foods mixed together but when I deconstruct the stew before putting it on his plate he will (usually) eat it all. We also have the "five bite rule" where he must eat at least five bites of each item on his plate. I also recognize that there are some things he simply doesn't like. Leafy green salads are currently on that list so when those are the vegetable du jour Sidney gets a plate of cut up raw carrots and red peppers. I'm picking my battles. I still worry about his being so small and wish he would eat a greater variety of food. I'm encouraged that he is trying new things; peer pressure from school has had him requesting both avocados and mushrooms recently. He didn't like them but he did tell me that at least he tried them. And that is progress. Maybe I'll make a foodie out of him yet. I can hope.......

Winter Chic

Winter always poses clothing challenges for me. I strive to look like this:

But more often than not, I look like this:

I'd like to blame my problem on spending the past three winters in country where cold weather gear was only occasionally required. Sure you needed to throw on a heavier coat every once in a while but the rest of the time a lighter jacket or even a sweater would suffice. I really think my blood thinned and now that I am living in a colder (not cold by many standards but colder to me) and very damp environment I find myself struggling to be comfortable, warm and dare I say, fashionably age appropriate. But honestly, my problems with winter clothing started years ago.

I grew up in New England which is the land of LL Bean fleece, wool sweaters and layers. Lots of layers. I don't remember a time when going outside in the winter didn't require layer upon layer of increasingly bulky clothing. Childhood memories include feeling like a stuffed sausage in my winter coat and the dreaded winter where my teacher (for her ease rather than our comfort) made us keep our snow pants on all day. Between the overheated sweaty feeling and the rustle of nylon I would just count the minutes until the warm weather returned. As an adult I initially shunned any winter clothing that was too bulky, cumbersome or left me with that sausage-like feeling. The more fashion forward clothing I saw did nothing to keep away the winter chill. Unfortunately, I found myself being cold a lot.

And now I am an adult who is once again living in a cold weather climate. I've been experimenting with various combinations of fleece, wool and down jackets jet I always feel too bundled up and bulky for my taste. I look at the other moms during school drop off and they all see at ease and comfortable with their attire. Whereas I look frumpy, the women from the Scandinavian and Baltic countries look stylish wearing their fleece (it probably helps that they are all tall and thin to begin with). Those hailing from warmer weather Mediterranean countries are layered and wrapped to the hilt yet they don't have that sausage look that I do whenever I don half as many clothes. So what is their secret? I wish I knew.

I've spent copious hours scanning the internet and perusing local stores in search of the perfect warm yet appropriate clothing for the season but I'm about to give up. So if you see a swaddled wooly mammoth looking person walking down the street you will probably find me underneath the bundle of fleece and down. I might not be comfortable but at least I am warm. How many days is it until spring arrives?