Happy new year and a belated Merry Christmas, one and all! It has been a beautiful holiday season over here in Gumpen Village Street. My parents are here and so we are drowning pleasantly in Christmas cheer, and the Noodle has been spoiled rotten with a constant stream of toys, cookies and company. I am just super fat and on day five of a slow-motion post-holiday sugar crash that has left me slightly cranky and tired. Not in a bad way. Just kind of a flabby way.
Noodle didn't really get what Christmas is about, but she has definitely been enjoying the side benefits: sugar, toys and the presence of her smitten grandparents, whom she calls Nana and Gdod, or rather ..., since the "Gr" in "Granddad" appears to present a challenge so insurmountable that she doesn't even try.
But while she doesn't understand what we were celebrating, she definitely did understand that it was awesome. Here are some of the highlights.
First off, the Christmas tree. This is the first time Alex and I have gotten a real live dead tree for Christmas, since usually we aren't in Vienna at this time of the year. We set it up one night after Nava had gone to sleep, and decorated with our brand new string of lights and ornaments purchased in a large box set. We forgot to get a tree topper, so Alex McGyver'd a Kenyan mask onto the top and fed lights through the eyeholes. This is how we celebrate multiculturalism.
Miss Noodle doesn't know the difference, and was much enthused.
"Mommy!" she said. "Wow!" And she ran over to the tree and started touching the ornaments, muttering "cookie" and "shaka," which is her way of saying "chocolate". At first I thought she thought the ornaments were made of candy, but I've sinced realized that "cookie" is simply the highest form of compliment she knows how to give. As in, damn this tree is cookie. It is SO chocolate. (This morning, for example, she found a yellow highlighter and pulled the lid off, exposing its fluorescent felt tip. Her eyes widened. You could see her wee brain awash with inspired ideas about surfaces that would benefit from the application of this glorious lazer-and-lightning-bolts hue, starting with Mommy's face. What did she say? "Coooookie.")
Nana and Gdod arrived here on the 20th, and Christmas exploded. We hung candy canes and had wonderful people over for Glühwein. We baked and ate stupid numbers of cookies. We ate several individuals from the avian world, naturally accompanied by red cabbage and dumplings.
Dinner with Alex's sister, her family and his brother and their family was both delicious and educational, as it was the first time I ever witnessed the Austrian Christmas tradition, a la the Nutcracker: the grownups dismiss all the kids, arrange presents, light real live flaming candles and sparklers and then ring a bell to signify that little baby Jesus has visited. Everyone comes in and gawks at the spectacular sight. And I guess all the grown ups are just hoping that nothing catches fire, because that tree would go up like a roman candle. The noodle was given even more glorious gifts, plus also her awesome teenage cousin let her eat a bunch of said cousin's candy cane and also cookies (obviously). The rest of us drank mulled wine and contemplated the quantities of bird in our bellies.
While spending time with family and friends is great, we all know that Christmas is really about getting heaps of loot. Noodle got many beautiful, occasionally educational but mostly noisy and shiny gifts. She has been playing with all of them--so thank you!--and is so overwhelmed by the amount of new stuff in our home that she doesn't even know what to do.
But of all the gifts, the one that has occupied most of her waking hours has been the toy kitchen. This girl loves to pretend to cook and serve tea. I realize that this is the most gendered gift imaginable, but in our defence she effing LOVES TOY KITCHENS. She is drawn to them like a paper clip to a refrigerator magnet, like a pig to poop. She wallows in this kitchen.
It's been several days since Christmas, so Noodle has had time to develop a whole process for the kitchen, which sits beside her also-brand-new tiny chairs and desk.
A visit to her restaurant begins with a command to sit. She points at her tiny chairs and says, "Sit." Her face is deadly serious. If you walk away, she will grow louder. "Sit sit sit SIT SIT SIT. Sit sit." If you do not sit because you have other things to do, like go to the bathroom or check your emails, or converse with another adult, you will be dead to her for at least a quarter of an hour. But the chef is forgiving. You will eventually be welcomed back into the fold with an order to SIT.
Once you DO sit, you are treated to a warm and welcoming smile. Maybe even a mouth kiss or a pat on the hand. Then you are handed a cup and are spoon-fed delicious air from a tiny pot. Then you get a piece of toy pie or toast. Perhaps a second course of egg or carrot. These must be consumed rapidly and with gusto, because you may soon be encouraged to relinquish your tiny chair and sit on the floor so that Winnie the Pooh and other stuffed friends can have a seat at the table Chez Noodle.
After the food courses, you will participate in an elaborate and confusing ceremony that involves pouring "tea" from one vessel to another while making the sound "Ssssss". In between you take sips and/or tip some into the mouths of other guests at the table, especially the furry and inanimate.
If you leave too soon you will be told to sit. Sit. SIT. You can try to do your own cooking and feed the Noodle your concoctions, but as in real life she only accepts toast and pie. The plastic carrot and plush mushroom stew you slaved over for two minutes can go f*** itself. "Nein," she says, shrilly. "This nein!" Overall, at Noodle's Place the portions are small but aggressively presented, and the service is rigorous. The owner is pushy but generous, and non-threatening because very small.
My parents have been dining at the wee tyrant's palace of culinary delights all day, every day since Christmas, bless them. Alex and I, though, did the smart things and begged off to fly to Istanbul for four nights, which I'll tell you all about next time.
For now, please enjoy this video of Sesame Street's beloved Cookie Monster, who has been the patron saint of our 2014 holiday season.
 |
| The magic of Christmas *drool* |
Noodle didn't really get what Christmas is about, but she has definitely been enjoying the side benefits: sugar, toys and the presence of her smitten grandparents, whom she calls Nana and Gdod, or rather ..., since the "Gr" in "Granddad" appears to present a challenge so insurmountable that she doesn't even try.
 |
| Decorated by Alex. In his defense, he's Jewish. |
First off, the Christmas tree. This is the first time Alex and I have gotten a real live dead tree for Christmas, since usually we aren't in Vienna at this time of the year. We set it up one night after Nava had gone to sleep, and decorated with our brand new string of lights and ornaments purchased in a large box set. We forgot to get a tree topper, so Alex McGyver'd a Kenyan mask onto the top and fed lights through the eyeholes. This is how we celebrate multiculturalism.
Miss Noodle doesn't know the difference, and was much enthused.
"Mommy!" she said. "Wow!" And she ran over to the tree and started touching the ornaments, muttering "cookie" and "shaka," which is her way of saying "chocolate". At first I thought she thought the ornaments were made of candy, but I've sinced realized that "cookie" is simply the highest form of compliment she knows how to give. As in, damn this tree is cookie. It is SO chocolate. (This morning, for example, she found a yellow highlighter and pulled the lid off, exposing its fluorescent felt tip. Her eyes widened. You could see her wee brain awash with inspired ideas about surfaces that would benefit from the application of this glorious lazer-and-lightning-bolts hue, starting with Mommy's face. What did she say? "Coooookie.")
 |
| Noodle's special ornament. |
Dinner with Alex's sister, her family and his brother and their family was both delicious and educational, as it was the first time I ever witnessed the Austrian Christmas tradition, a la the Nutcracker: the grownups dismiss all the kids, arrange presents, light real live flaming candles and sparklers and then ring a bell to signify that little baby Jesus has visited. Everyone comes in and gawks at the spectacular sight. And I guess all the grown ups are just hoping that nothing catches fire, because that tree would go up like a roman candle. The noodle was given even more glorious gifts, plus also her awesome teenage cousin let her eat a bunch of said cousin's candy cane and also cookies (obviously). The rest of us drank mulled wine and contemplated the quantities of bird in our bellies.
While spending time with family and friends is great, we all know that Christmas is really about getting heaps of loot. Noodle got many beautiful, occasionally educational but mostly noisy and shiny gifts. She has been playing with all of them--so thank you!--and is so overwhelmed by the amount of new stuff in our home that she doesn't even know what to do.
 |
| The gift that keeps on giving. In non-girly colours, which makes it okay, right? |
But of all the gifts, the one that has occupied most of her waking hours has been the toy kitchen. This girl loves to pretend to cook and serve tea. I realize that this is the most gendered gift imaginable, but in our defence she effing LOVES TOY KITCHENS. She is drawn to them like a paper clip to a refrigerator magnet, like a pig to poop. She wallows in this kitchen.
 |
| Another cheery force feeding. |
A visit to her restaurant begins with a command to sit. She points at her tiny chairs and says, "Sit." Her face is deadly serious. If you walk away, she will grow louder. "Sit sit sit SIT SIT SIT. Sit sit." If you do not sit because you have other things to do, like go to the bathroom or check your emails, or converse with another adult, you will be dead to her for at least a quarter of an hour. But the chef is forgiving. You will eventually be welcomed back into the fold with an order to SIT.
Once you DO sit, you are treated to a warm and welcoming smile. Maybe even a mouth kiss or a pat on the hand. Then you are handed a cup and are spoon-fed delicious air from a tiny pot. Then you get a piece of toy pie or toast. Perhaps a second course of egg or carrot. These must be consumed rapidly and with gusto, because you may soon be encouraged to relinquish your tiny chair and sit on the floor so that Winnie the Pooh and other stuffed friends can have a seat at the table Chez Noodle.
After the food courses, you will participate in an elaborate and confusing ceremony that involves pouring "tea" from one vessel to another while making the sound "Ssssss". In between you take sips and/or tip some into the mouths of other guests at the table, especially the furry and inanimate.
If you leave too soon you will be told to sit. Sit. SIT. You can try to do your own cooking and feed the Noodle your concoctions, but as in real life she only accepts toast and pie. The plastic carrot and plush mushroom stew you slaved over for two minutes can go f*** itself. "Nein," she says, shrilly. "This nein!" Overall, at Noodle's Place the portions are small but aggressively presented, and the service is rigorous. The owner is pushy but generous, and non-threatening because very small.
My parents have been dining at the wee tyrant's palace of culinary delights all day, every day since Christmas, bless them. Alex and I, though, did the smart things and begged off to fly to Istanbul for four nights, which I'll tell you all about next time.
For now, please enjoy this video of Sesame Street's beloved Cookie Monster, who has been the patron saint of our 2014 holiday season.
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