Muttertag, und Basel

So my big, long-anticipated Mother's Day bash was set for 8:00 AM sharp this morning, after which we'd planned a trip to explore Basel.  But the best laid plans... 


Ella woke up in a terrible mood this morning, all watery, mournful doe eyes and self-confinement to her room.  After quite a lot of prodding, I finally got it out of her that she'd had a dream, a horrible dream, in which Captain Hook had captured her. She had dramatically begged him to be able to return home for one last art project and one last kiss from her Mother and Father before he made her walk the plank.

Well.

As I think you all have gathered, the line between fantasy and reality is sometimes blurry for our little Ella.  She did her one last craft as soon as she woke up, a lovingly rendered picture of Peter Pan, but, while she was drawing it, she started thinking: if she could go the rest of her life without kissing me or Dennis, then she'd not have to go back to Never Land.  So she started avoiding me and Dennis because she was afraid we'd kiss her good morning, thereby sending her to her watery doom.  But we had no idea why she was acting so strangely and emotionally until I finally got her to sit down and tearfully talk about what was troubling her.

I tried to explain to her that it was just a dream, and that Captain Hook isn't real, but Ella steadfastly insisted that, no, she had to believe in Captain Hook, and her dream. Because here's the rub: J.M. Barrie, the creator of Peter Pan, wrote every time a child says she doesn't believe in fairies, a fairy will fall down dead.  And, in her mind, believing in Captain Hook and believing in fairies are one and the same.  Ergo, she absolutely couldn't entertain the possibility that her dream wasn't true.  If so, she ran the risk of murdering a fairy.

Makes perfect sense.

So I drew on my eight years of experience of living with Ella, and improvised.  I laid down and dreamed a little daydream, in which I had a stern discussion with Captain Hook.  He expressed his surprise that Ella took him seriously: he was just playing, after all, and the Lost Boys never took him seriously.  He was most grievously sorry that he had caused her worry.  And he looked forward to visiting with Ella again, perhaps as a guest at a tea party.  Pirates love tea.  Did you know?  And, slowly, the lines of worry left Ella's forehead.

The short of it is, my Mother's Day party has been postponed.  I was too busy mothering. But I did manage to pacify my daughter enough to get her on the train to Basel.

So here's an interesting problem that the residents of Switzerland face every year: Mother's Day is on Sunday, and, by law, all stores are closed on Sunday except for those in the train stations.  So the Basel Bahnhof was absolutely bursting with sons and daughters, buying plants and flowers for their moms this morning.  The opportunist grocery stores had set up temporary florist stands that were doing brisk trade.

Joani and I preferred iced mochas for our Mother's Day treat, which we enjoyed as we walked around downtown.  We took our kids first to the Church of St. Elizabeth: Ella was tired after her morning of drama, but Alex went inside with Grandma and Grandpa and me.  He loved the stained glass: "These artists must be very proud of themselves."

The striking Church of St. Elizabeth

We continued down toward the Rhine, stopping at a kinetic fountain by an artist from the 1970s named Jean Tinguley.  There's a whole museum of his work elsewhere in Basel which we might visit some day: we enjoyed watching the fountains sputter.

We liked the one with the laser eyes best

The mothers, overlooking the Rhine, smiling
through the pain

We'd planned on finding a place to eat next to the Rhine, hopefully letting the kids play in the water while we picniced.  But, when we reached it and walked along the shoreline, it became increasingly clear to us that our options were very limited. Many places were closed because it was Sunday, and those that were open had raised their prices astronomically because it was Mother's Day.  And we couldn't see ourselves buying $65 dollar lunches for the kids when all they would likely eat was the bread on the side.

But I'll tell you, we very nearly buckled. It was growing increasingly hot (it was supposed to get up to 80 degrees, and I believe it may have) and the kids were growing increasingly cranky and hungry and tired and quarrelsome, being forced to walk and walk with no idea when it would end.  We adults weren't holding up too well, either.

All the same, we did see some pretty things along the way:

And finally, when we left the banks of the Rhine in hopes of finding a bus or tram back to the train station, we found a quickie mart with surprisingly good (hunger-enhanced?) pizza and sandwiches.  Mother's Day brunch?  Well, now we know: Sundays, and particularly holiday Sundays, are just not the best days for exploring new cities.

But things continued to look up as we found a shady little park up the street from the train station: Ella recentered herself by going off on flower-finding adventures and bringing me back fists full of mock orange blossoms, while the boys climbed trees and dug in the sand.  

Alex, after dragging his feet all day, asking to be carried,
found unexpected reserves of strength and energy at the
playground.

But even with that rest, the grown-ups were all, to a man, exhausted as we got on the train for the hour-long ride home.

I think much of the angst from the day stemmed from the fact that the kids' three-week vacation from school ends tomorrow.  The kids both voiced their nervousness this evening at bedtime. (Everything always surfaces at bedtime.) Ella is dreading the return of homework, but Alex had a more unexpected fear: he was terrified that someone would have a birthday tomorrow. "I'll have to wish him a happy birthday, and I don't know the words!" he told me as wiped tears from his eyes.  Poor little guy.  So he went to sleep, practicing over and over "Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Alles Gute zum Geburtstag..."

Hopefully, tomorrow will go more smoothly. Wish us luck!