Prettige Kerstdagen.

The reception was a lot of fun. The wedding had taken place earlier in the day; just a small ceremony at city hall. I went to dinner with Ruud, his sister Lieke and boyfriend Willem, and his brother Rens and girlfriend Eevje. Then we went to the reception where I was way too tired to keep dancing by 2:00 am. We stayed at Ruud's parents' house in Helmond, and we all had breakfast together late on Saturday morning.





(Obviously, that picture is wishful thinking. We're actually more or less the same height.)

I came back here on Saturday and started packing. Shortly thereafter, I got a phone call from Jack: his flight got canceled and he won't be arriving until early Christmas morning. Disappointing for a plethora of reasons, but it could have been worse. At least he'll be in time for the flight to Berlin.

Then I woke up this morning to the news that Joel's flight was delayed, and he'll be arriving later than expected, though he should still be here in time to celebrate Christmas this evening.

Merry Christmas. If you're reading this, I probably love you and miss you and certainly wish you all the best.

Two month notice.

As you know, I'm leaving on Christmas. We're starting in Berlin and journeying on to Prague, Vienna, Bratislava, and Budapest before Jack and Joel go home, then I'm continuing through Croatia, Slovenia, and back up to Austria and, if there's time, Munich. Three weeks.

So, after Christmas, I'll be out of touch for three weeks. Then I'll have three weeks worth of fun times to fill you in on, and then I'll have to hurry and catch you up on the goings on here before I go home.

Yeah. Home home. My original home. The U.S. one. Maybe I'm premature in reporting on this, as I have spent the last four or five months changing my mind about my departure date at least every other day. Sometimes I'd change my mind several times within one day. I'm saying there's a chance I could change my mind again.

But that chance is growing slimmer. There are a million reasons to stay, but basically, what it comes down to is this: I've grown from this job as much as I possibly can. I've plateaued. Sure, the job isn't the only thing I do here, but it's my reason for being here. So if I want to be here, I need to find a new reason. It just feels like time to move on.

This decision wasn't arrived at lightly. It was a sleep-stealer. But now that I've made it, I feel good about it. My, my, it'll be nice to drive a car again.

It's the most wonderful time.

Jack and Joel are arriving on Christmas Eve. I have lots of shopping to do (I'm in charge of this Christmas dinner thing, which will likely involved bitterballen and casserole) and no time off work to do it, so we'll see what happens. Busy work week for this girl.

But first I'm going to a wedding -- Ruud's cousin Sjouke is getting married. Actually, we're not going to the wedding, which is a super-small event, but we're going to the reception. So, really, it's ideal.

Also, I should pack at some point, because Christmas Day marks the beginning of the long awaited journey Amanda, Jack, and Joel: From Bohemia to the Balkans. Of course, it has been somewhat adjusted since its titling. We're now starting closer to Bavaria, and Jack and Joel won't make it to the Balkans.

But you get the idea. This is very exciting indeed. I should know. I did all the planning.

De Efteling

I've seen commercials all year for De Efteling, a popular amusement park in the Netherlands. I didn't think much of going, because the ads were annoying and I didn't know where it was, anyway.

Turns out, it's very close to Tilburg. And though it closes after the summer, it re-opens right around this time for a few weeks -- De Winter Efteling. Ruud suggested going. So we did.



Fun day. Cold. Fake snow on the trees. A skating rink. (Ruud refused to skate.) Free ear muffs with purchase of soup. The bigger roller coasters weren't running -- apparently it's too dangerous to do so in cold weather -- but there were a couple of little ones and other nice things. We got on the first roller coaster just as it started raining, so it turned out to be a water ride. Ruud was not enthused.



The highlight was a 3D movie (did you know they still do those? I didn't) by the World Wildlife Fund or Federation or whatever the "F" stands for. The monkeys kept batting oranges at our faces until I couldn't handle it. I reminded myself not to flinch and laughed at the guy sitting in front of me who did.

White bicyclin', tree climbin', art appreciatin'.

Ruud and I spent Sunday at the national park, Hoge Veluwe, despite his being sick and my barely being over being sick. I wanted to go because they have a small wild boar herd. We saw no boars. I was unbearably disappointed, but still had fun biking through the park (though by nightfall my hands were so cold they didn't function properly), climbing trees, and checking out the art museum, which has a fantastic collection of Van Goghs.

Get out the vote.

With all the Thanksgiving, my birthday, and Sinterklaas excitement, I never got the opportunity to talk about our elections in the Netherlands, which took place on November 22.

There are 150 seats in the parliament, all of which had to be chosen. When you vote, you vote first for a party (there are dozens, 100s?) and then within that party you choose your candidate. The most important part of that vote is the party part.

The funniest part of it all is that there is a Party for the Animals. Their main concern for the country this year is the castration of pigs without any numbing agent. What about taxes, immigration, health care? "We have opinions on those, too, but they aren't our most pressing issues."

The Party for the Animals holds two seats in parliament.

December 5: Sinterklaas.

Yesterday was the long awaited holiday. Carien's parents (Maria and Cees) and her sister and brother-in-law (Martine and Cees) and nephew (Thies) arrived in the afternoon.

Around 4:00 pm, Maria got a phone call from Sinterklaas telling us that he had left some gifts for the kids outside in the camper. And, oh, is Thies staying with you tonight? Yes, yes he is. Okay, his are out there, too. The kids ran out and hauled in giant bags of gifts. Wow, I thought. That's a lot of presents. But I didn't know the literal half of it.

We had dinner -- pizza for the adults and french fries for the kids, all made by Carien -- and then we heard a loud knock on the door. Even I was surprised. Who was it? Two Zwarte Pieten with five large burlap sacks full of gifts!

(Spoiler: no, Zwarte Piet does not visit every house in the Netherlands on December 5. This was a visit arranged especially by Carien, and the first time such a visit has occurred at the Uptegrove home.)

The Pieten hung out with us for probably half an hour, throwing pepernoten all over the floor and handing out gifts.

The kids went to bed and we got to work on the wine -- and started playing our game. Here's how it went down:

8:30 -- Round 1, lasts 20 minutes. All gifts are in the middle of the circle; none of us have any. Each roll of the dice means something different.

1: Roll again.
2: Give the dice to the person to your right.
3: Nothing.
4: Skip the next roller.
5: Put one of your gifts back in the pile.
6: Take a gift out of the pile.

8:50 -- End of Round 1. I have three gifts.

9:00 -- Round 2, lasts 30 minutes. Some numbers on the dice mean the same thing as in the last round, but a key difference is that 4 is now Pick a Card (each of which contains instructions as to your play). Also, 5 now means you can take a gift from somebody else.

9:17 -- I roll a four and draw a card that says (in Dutch), "Put your leg over your head. If you can't do it, you must give one gift away." Ha HA! I CAN DO THAT!

9:30 -- End of Round 2. I am left with two gifts. We are now permitted to open whatever gifts are in our possession. I open them to find a chocolate letter (traditional gift from Sinterklaas, by the way) and a giant pair of tightie-whities, which still has Martine's husband cracking up.

9:45 -- Round 3, lasts 45 minutes. The stakes are high. Now all gifts are opened, but we still trade them around like mad, trying to get rid of the fuzzy pink heart mirror, the 100 tea lights, and the origami book, and trying to acquire the pasta kit, the bath set, the cookies. A couple of the rolls of the dice now mean different things again. The wine is changing hands frequently. My underwear are not in high demand. The key to keeping your gifts is to have the most undesirable ones.

10:07 -- I have accumulated seven gifts. I have passed the underwear along. The pasta and the wine are not in my possession, so my pile is largely ignored. Things are looking up.

10:29 -- I roll a 4. I draw a card requiring me to give all my presents away. I scream in agony.

10:30 -- End of Round 3. I am the only person with 0 gifts. But I have my wine. That's what I keep saying.

They took pity on the foreigner and I ended up with a few gifts after all. So much fun, presents or no. It's a game I intend to introduce in some form at some point with my stateside friends.

I went to bed around 2:00 am, but not before I watched them haul in five more sacks of gifts -- to leave in (read: under) the kids' shoes so they have something to find in the morning.

An early Sinterklaas.

Yesterday I went with Ruud to his brother's birthday celebration. It was a quiet one, just the immediate family and the family of his girlfriend, Eevje. It was an extra special day, because it also marked 12 1/2 years of togetherness for Rens and Eevje. 12.5 is a major anniversary here -- halfway to 25.

I made a peanut butter pie, which everyone loved except the birthday boy, who does not like peanut butter. Whoops.

After dinner, Eevje's family left and we celebrated Sinterklaas a couple of days early. Ruud had warned me that Sinterklaas had a few presents for me, too, so I was expecting one or two little things -- but I was in for a surprise. There were several gifts, simple but thoughtful: a photography book of Amsterdam, little Dutch souvenirs, a stuffed frog, reflector bands for running in the dark, candy canes, an electric toothbrush, a book by Bill Bryson (comedy writing about America), and a large Rolling Stones book.

Funny story. Two weeks ago, at Ruud's mother's birthday, she asked me what kind of music I liked. I said a little of everything, mostly rock/alternative. She asked me to name bands. I listed several, none of whom she'd ever heard of. Wanting her to understand the type of music I like, racking my brain for someone she'd know, I mentioned the Stones. Hence the gift.

Touched. Overwhelmed. I felt like I'd known them for years.

It was a special day, sitting around the fire, surrounded by the Dutch language and little snippets of English, understanding what I could and pretending through the rest, laughing just hard enough at the funny stuff -- not so hard that they would notice and ask, "You got that? What was it?" but hard enough that the whole conversation wouldn't stop so someone could explain it -- and celebrating a holiday I had never even heard of until this year with a family I barely know that went out of its way to include me.

Oh, there are these kids, too.

Yes, I still take care of four beautiful kids, whom you haven't read about in a while. The latest:

CARL

Still a handful, but lately he's obsessed with computer games so that provides excellent leverage for me. The threat of his computer priveleges being suspended is usually inspiration enough to get him to behave.

PETE

We're not on good terms today because he got mad and spit at me. My normally patient self flew off the handle and he went to bed at 7:00, cursing me all the way.

In adorable news, as I was doing Kate's hair this morning he said, "I think Kate is the prettiest girl in her whole school," and we exchanged a knowing glance. Actually, it probably is true.

KATE

Her behavior goes in phases. Lately, she says, "mijn papa" and "mijn mama" to me all the time, little reminders that...they're hers and not mine? I guess. Also, instead of getting mad and screaming when I chastise her, as she used to do, she starts crying and buries her head on my leg.

She goes to school two days a week and loves it. She won't eat her meal? She won't get out of the bathtub? She won't let you do her hair? "Well, I guess you can't go to school tomorrow, then." Problem solved.

She's speaking a lot better, too. Many more words and complex sentences, though they're not always understandable. My name has earned a one-syllable upgrade, from "Mah" to "Mah-na". Sometimes even "A-mah-na". She has adopted some of my language habits, and I, of course, love that.

The other day when I was reading to the kids, she kept looking up at me -- probably a total of 12 times -- the way that...well, the way that adults look at children when they're being adorable, and she would put her hand on my cheek and give me a kiss. Like, "Oooh, Amanda, you're so darn cute."

Yesterday she said, "Mah-na, yoga." She walked to the middle of the room and arranged herself in a flawless mountain pose -- big toes together, heels apart, everything. Precision. I have never been so proud.

She pooped on the toilet today. Twice.

ED

He's a year old and he already throws temper tantrums. When he smells food or sees food or realized you're thinking about food, he starts wailing. He likes to open cabinets and he knows he shouldn't, and when I catch him in the act he starts crying about it, but when I don't, he carries whatever he found in the cabinet over to me and smirks. He really smirks.

He's walking like a champ, of course, all over the place. He and Kate are best of friends and seem to speak each other's language. They laugh at each other constantly. And Kate manages to hurt him quite often, usually because she's loving him too much. Carl and Pete insist on picking him up and carrying him places, throwing him on the couch, stuff like that, despite my own insistance that they do no such thing.

ME

I made it to Rotterdam, finally, and took in their fantastic art museum as well as their shopping. I almost finished the Christmas project. Almost. It was a good day, Wednesday, even though I was in the process of getting sick, a process that started last Thursday, a process that continues to this day. Some days are better than others.

Tuesday is Sinterklaas, of course, so the excitement level is running high. I, too, am excited. There's this game the big kids play after the little kids go to bed. Carien explained it to me and I thought it might be something that just this family does, but I guess it's traditional throughout the Netherlands. More on that after the fact.

But before all that, Sunday is Ruud's brother's birthday party -- the second family birthday party to which I've been invited. Hopefully I'll be feeling better. It's just the immediate family this time, and they're celebrating Sinterklaas as well, so I've got to be on the A game.