Neuhaus Factory Outlet

This was my fourth trip to the Neuhaus Factory Outlet, but the kids had never been there, and since Mitch had to work today even though it's a holiday, I decided we needed a little chocolate treat. I'm not gonna lie, I got a little drunk on the vodka chocolate cordials, because they use insanely good chocolate and fill it with insanely good vodka. They should rename them Mommy's Miracles. Okay, I was disappointed the first time I went there because there was no factory tour, just a little strip-mall type of shop, but soon I learned that there are free samples of every chocolate in the store, and I didn't mind not getting to see how the chocolates were made. Especially after five Mommy's Miracles.

We all got sick but no one barfed, so it was a successful outing for our clan. Neuhaus Factory Outlet. Recommended!

Ghent

So, Valentine's Day was the first Saturday Mitch didn't have to work since we got here, so naturally we wanted to make the most of it. We gathered up the kids and hit the road to Ghent, an absolutely adorable town about an hour away. Less if you don't stop for windshield washer fluid. This little journey helped us discover that the best way to spend cupid's holiday is at a medieval torture museum.

Gravensteen Castle is an old count's castle from the 1100s. That's old as shit, you guys. It's situated right in the middle of Ghent, moat and all. 

No, really. They built the town around it.

The minute we walked into the place, I could tell Mitch was on the verge of pissing his pants with excitement. I handed him the camera, which is why the rest of our photos look like this:

I mean, it's nice and ceiling-y and all, but how many photos does one need of arches and architectural details? And did he take even ONE photo of the tower crappers where the toilet holes were open directly to the moat? Nope. And I know that's all anyone really cares about. Except torture!

The torture museum was the shizz, although we mostly just have pics of the ceiling and no pictures of the vast displays of thousand-year-old weapons. He did take a few snaps of the guillotine and the rack.

And he got one from the top of the castle, although I suspect that was just an excuse to capture more architecture.

The rest of Ghent was quaint as could be and we found a sweet little restaurant along the canal for lunch. Henry and I took over camera duties after that.

My Valentine. Awwwww. 

I call this piece, "Bridge with Kids in Front of it."

The title of this piece is, "Canal that People Used to Poop into and Old-Ass Buildings and Some Kids that Came Out of Me."

Mitch got the camera back.

This is right after my tiny baby twins each consumed a side of beef with frites. Because everything comes with frites in Belgium. And beer, so that's good.

We went to a pretty cool light museum, but by that time my eyeball was twitching from being out in public so long, so we didn't see all of it. Total number of times we had to find a bathroom for my tiny-bladdered daughter that day: 6. I don't know why she didn't use the open-air toilets back at the castle. What a princess.

We wrapped up our Valentine's Day with a viewing of slasher movies. Because that's how we roll.

Working Girl

40 hoursaweekohmygawd.  Considering that my last job was only 20 hours a week and most of that was just writing words while resting in bed (not to mention I had someone coming in to help with the house and and laundry because Brazil), and before that I didn't leave the house for a good 10 years or so, this new gig is killing me dead. As in, bed by 8:00. I begin fantasizing about going to bed around 3:00 pm, because that's how an old lady gets through the day like a boss.

I don't even want to talk about the state of my house. We clean all four levels (rickety stairs included) by ourselves now because Europe. How messy is my house? Just imagine that a boot factory exploded next door to a laundromat. The kids and Mitch try, but Mitch's idea of doing laundry is "folding" things loosely and tossing them on top of all my boots. Olivia's stuffed animals are in desperate need of birth control and I'm not sure how Henry's room looks. It's all the way up on the fourth floor, yo.

The job itself is okay. The office isn't social and sunny like my old job, and no one ever talks about their vaginas, but everyone seems nice. Now, I'm not gonna lie. The Whirled Peas Factory (TWPF) is not the most creative place to work. It's also terrifying. I'm scared to even throw away my used tissues, lest I get arrested for distributing classified boogers. Just getting into my office is an ordeal that requires something along the lines of a piece of DNA from all my family members and a cavity search. Not really, but they DO make me lock up my cell phone outside and forget about having my iPad with me. 

Mitch saw me happily crushing candies on my iPad before I started working and was all, "you know you can't bring that into the TWPF building."

"Yes I can."

"No you can't."

"YES. I CAN."

"Nope."

"Yep."

"No."

"But what am I going to read? I don't even know how to turn paper pages anymore."

"Read? Just what exactly do you think you will be doing in Human Resources?"

"Reading under my fuzzy blanket and occasionally having people sign stuff?"

Oh! You know what TWPF does have? Adorable little wine bottles in the lunch room. Right next to the soda machine because Europe! I would take a picture to show you their cuteness, but I'd probably get fired. Heyyy....

I'm telling you guys, don't get jobs. There's no reading novels under fuzzy blankets or binge watching House of Cards on Netflix. IT'S JUST SO STUPID. Dumb paying for college and saving for retirement and dumb stupidness with a side of poop and somebody has to pay for all these boots. Why won't the universe just pay me for being adorably lazy? Gawd.

Picture Dump

My preshus baby is home, so I'm not going to waste any time with dumb old writing until he leaves for Amsterdam tomorrow (NYE in Amsterdam with friends-what could go wrong?), but here's a little of what we've been doing:

This damn dog has not left his side, nor would he let anyone else hug him when he walked in the door.

Merry Christmas, blurry iPad photo!

Snow!

Of course.

Fighting over the last of the Christmas Market garlic mushrooms.

It cost 30 euros to see this 'Authentic American Santa'. Photo not included.
We were all a little scared of this guy. I think we interrupted his mulled wine session.

Another ride on the giant wheel.

Grace is in the red coat. It was near impossible to get a shot of Jack skating with the girls while they were all three vertical.

I call this photo, "Indignity"

Worst Christmas Eve presents of all time?

More of Manekin Pis so Jack could see it. This time with an outfit!

Brussels-y!

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This is how we ride the metro..

Santa brought me a new knife. I haven't cut all my fingers yet.

World's tiniest snowman.

Brussels Christmas Market

We went somewhere awesome last weekend, but then our stuff came and there was all this stupid work to do. The movers unpacked everything, but basically there were just mounds of stuff everywhere. One of the few good things about moving every few years is that you are forced to pare down to the essentials. Before we left Brazil I dropped about 2,000 lbs worth of crap from our HHE (Household Effects for you non-foreign service people), and we are still shedding our belongings as we put everything away. I tell the kids if it's not beautiful or useful to donate it or toss it, and to be ruthless. Also, I have 46 tank tops. 

In other news, everyone is adapting to life in Brussels pretty well. I'm still in the oh-my-god-why-did-we-join-the-foreign-service phase, but I'm hoping that changes. They sell four brands of truffle mayonnaise here, so signs point to yes on that front. Mitch went out and bought a car, but I haven't seen it yet because paperwork and diplomatic license plates and blahblahblah. Maybe by the new year we will have wheels? Fortunately, we don't really need a vehicle yet. It's so easy to hop on public transit and not worry about parking or wine driving. 

We took the tram to a christmas market last Saturday, and it was the shit. It was packed with people and vendors but everyone was in a good mood because of vin chaud (hot mulled wine), which at least half of the vendors sold for just a few euros. I liked this very much.

Place Sainte-Catherine was the name of the square where the market took place. St. Catherine is an old Catholic church, and we were able to go inside where Mitch and I regaled the children with stories of growing up Catholic.

On the other side of the church is the Christmas Market. 

Yes, we went on that big-ass Ferris Wheel. It was a great place to view Brussels, and it was super cheap. I'm looking at you, Great Seattle Wheel, you big dumb jerk.

The view from the wheel. Those white squares are all the vendor stalls.

I love going through the pictures after an outing. All the photos of buildings are taken by my architect husband and all the food and booze pics are mine.

The Archangel Michael is the patron saint of Brussels. Here he is slaying the black devil. Merry Christmas!

We hadn't learned about the vin chaud yet. Whoops!  

I love that they have student prices on booze shots.

No comment.

We want to go again when my preshus angel college boy gets here next week, because I forgot to buy stuff after all the vin chaud. Also, there is an ice skating rink around there somewhere that the girls want to try out. I did buy a pretty cool chess set and the kids bought Christmas presents for each other. It was a good day and nobody cried.