Rama Sita, The Uetliberg, & Cate falls under the train

Yesterday, we took the tram and the kids to see the Rama Sita exhibit at the Reitberg Museum..in the swankier part of the city.
The highlight of the day was the Tibetan/Hindu exhibit....oh and the Japanese art. Love that Japanese art...especially Crescent Moon Reflected in Water.
It was all very romantic. Black and white photos of India, stone Buddha's from 520...not even in behind glass. Bad idea, since I tripped and almost took one out.

And today...where do I begin? Let's start with me getting to the station and announcing to everyone that in the rush to get out of the flat...I forgot to take my meds. The look of horror on Ally and Rick's face is unexplainable. Just use your imagination. From here, as we're boarding the train, Cate misses a step and falls down between the train and the platform. It all happens in slow mo..she trips...and I see her face slowly begin to disappear under the step of the train. I snatch her up and of course, she is hysterical and then asks for a snack.

It's only a 20 minute ride up the Uetliberg...known as the top of zurich...spectacular views after a little uphill hiking. All free fun.



Ally with her Longchamp bag and a tree growing out of her head.



The Limmat and Alps



Cate refusing to take a picture...per usual.

p.s....bring your own lunch, as ours cost 80chf..for a couple chicken nuggets.

Just a Regular Sunday with the Longstreets

So this weekend was pretty chill....thank you very much. After Disney, climbing the Alps, and various other mountains...travelling for day trips to Germnay and and Austria, it's nice to just stay home once in awhile and be the Longstreets again.

Left to our own devices this is what happens when we have to entertain ourselves:


This is Sean doing his best Jack Nicholsan, One Flew Over the Cukoos Nest


This is me doing my best deranged Snow White


And this is Rick throwing Cate into a fountain

Happy Sunday.

Kiss my Ass Days

Yesterday was one of those days where I didn't want to be anything to anyone. I was in my "kiss my ass" mood....which I developed during my second pregnancy.

It came upon me suddenly then that I didn't give myself enough credit for the things I do for my family and others. Moms always drag around a thousand tons of guilt with them wheverever they go. Am I effing up my kid in some new way that Jung would have written tomes about?

When I was nearing the end of my pregnancy with Sean..which was no picnic, (I hate it when pregnany moms go on about how great and sexy they feel...) I started allowing myself to have "Everyone can kiss my ass" days. I realized I needed these days once in a while to give myself a break. So Kiss my Ass days go something like this:

Cate is allowed to watch all the TV she wants and even her meals can be whatever she feels like having. Want some chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, Cate? Wonderful! And all those parenting magazine writers and super moms (kelly ripa) can....you guessed it...kiss my ass.

Uh oh...the phone is ringing for the 100th time...guess what??? That can kiss my you know what, too. If it's that important leave a message.

Oh my, it's time to get dinner ready...hmmm...looks like tuna sandwhiches and chicken nuggests. If you don't like it, you know what you can do.

And Rick, don't even look at me with the hope of getting some at bedtime on kiss my ass days. He already knows this, but I'm just putting it down for the rest of you.

A few other things I like to do on these days:
extend naptime: no one is allowed to leave their rooms after naps until mommy says so or mommy wakes up...there's plenty of stuff for Cate to do in her room without setting us on fire and Sean is content to look at his mobile for eons of time which freaks me out most other days.

early bedtime for everyone under the age of 30. uh ha! The perfect solution to a day's worth of moaning and groaning and the perfect way to end a Kiss My Ass day (along with a bottle of wine).

How come you didn't return my call, anne?
How come the dishes are still in the sink from this morning?
How come dinner isn't ready?
How come the kids are still in their pj's?
How come it looks like nothing has been done here all day?

Wanna know why? Because everyone can Kiss my Ass today. I'm taking a nap.

And then it's business as usual the following morning. Too many of these days in a row and the someone is calling Human Services on you. To whom I would most likely say Kiss my ass if they showed up at the door.

Some things I miss, Some things I don't.

So, the summer is almost over. Even in Switzerland, where the sun doesn't set until 10pmish. And I can't believe that I'm missing the Jersey Shore.

Not Seaside or Long Beach Island...my hair stands on end just thinking of those places.

I miss Ocean City and Avon. I miss coming off the highway and smelling the beach before I could see it. My dad would crack a joke about this saying that his toilet smells the same way. I love that smell. (Not the toilet one, the other one.)

That's about one of the only things on my short list that I do miss. The others being friends, family and Abby...my dog, my love, my big hyper drooling mess of yellow hair who looks very scary but wouldn't know how to hurt someone in self defence, even.

I don't miss Jersey humidity...not a friend to the curly-haired girl. Or the driving, or supersized EVERYTHING...being supermarkets, walmarts, and home depots, or coke's at Wendy's. I'm short. Super sized stuff gives me anxiety.

I surprisingly do not miss TV...my biggest vice...and tool of satan especially crafted for the sometimes known to be lazy Libra. Oh, and Jersey Mommy and Me playgroups...which I mistakenly thought were really for the kids and not a petty, caddy social hour for moms in full make up at 8am. Guess who felt out of place showing up after just rolling out of bed and still trying to get the toothpaste off of Cate's face with some spit?

I did meet Alyson and her little Lauren at a playgroup. And together we bonded by making fun of everyone else....sorry ladies. And I can't wait to get back home and do that all over again!

That's it. I had a thought today about how I missed the beach and it turned into some other things too by the end of the day. Which has been and gone and is time to put to rest.

The French Ghetto and,oh yeah, Disneyland

Only three full days in Paris and so much to write about.

First of all, I really don't care how fabulous the people of France claim to be with their Haute Fashion and their skinny jeans and stilletos and- I don't care if I get lung cancer at 30 and take you with me- attitude....it doesn't matter how great you look, when you have to dodge dog poo and turned over garbage block after block. Really people, get it together and clean up your city.

Ok...this blog has been long awaited by some. I hate working under pressure.

Five hour train ride with one kid and one baby...went fairly well until the train rolls into the Parisian Ghetto and Sean looks at us like this:



And a word to the wise, or the brave: don't even think of the subway system. You'll have to ask yourself: "do you feel lucky, punk, well do ya?" And the answer to the question in this context is always NO.

It's in the french underground where I'm having a very illogical thought for a 30 year old : "Get me to Disneyland.....help!" Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead in anything Disney. But the benefits outweighed the risks.

After riding a couple trains back and forth and getting nowhere, I look at Rick and say through gritted teeth and with firey eyes: Get us out of here. To which he almost salutes me and says yes ma'am. In a dash we're in the daylight. And I found myself thinking I liked it better underground when I couldn't see what was going on.

The best part: for several blocks, Cate screams at the top of her lungs: I want to go home! I guess the smell of urine and pot wafting out of the barber shops were too much for her. And just a side note: I've only been 2 places where it smelled like pee and they are Paris and New Orleans. Coincidence? I dont' think so.

I put on my : don't eff with me, my ancestors were from the continent,too-face-and we walk at a brisk pace (ahem, slow run) to anywhere but where we happened to be. I managed to snap this pic on the run...I have no idea what it is:



And then..our saviour..or so I think. What is that rolling up to this panic stricken family on the street corner? A taxi....a mercedes...and a driver in a suit. We're safe, my heart beats in my chest. But nothing is as it seems in Paris. We say: Disneyland. He says shrugging his shoulders in his french -I'm pretending not to understand you way-50/60 euros. We're in. Hook , line and sinker.

It's a no brainer. He gets "lost". And we pay more than 60 Eruos for a series of nauseating u-turns on what looks suspiciously a lot like the Jersey Turnpike.

I've never been so happy to see a pink wedding cake of a hotel in my life when we finally get there.



Oh, Yeah. Disney was great. The staff was excellent....and Sean was a great hit among everyone there. But don't drop a binki because no one is picking it up for you outside of Switzerland. in fact, anywhere else, and they might just stop to grind the binki to bits.

I love Zurich. Just yesterday a man in a suit on his lunch break came flying after me with Sean's blue bear in one hand and his briefcase in the other. God only knows how far back I had dropped the bear and how out of the way this poor guy had to go to catch up to me. Thanks, man. There would have been many a sleepless night without blue bear.

God, I love the Swiss.