Zürich -> Serfaus, Austria

As challenging as these last few days have been, Dennis and I have been urging each other forward by reminding ourselves of the promise of today.  Dennis is done with work, the kids are done with school...we have no responsibilities here, whatsoever!

So, as a Christmas present to ourselves, we're taking the family on one last extraordinary adventure, to Serfaus, Austria, to the Bär Kinderhotel.  This isn't just any Kinderhotel, mind you, but a Five-Smiley Kinderhotel.  I have high expectations.

To get to Serfaus with our year's worth of condensed luggage in tow, we rented a little van for the family, and Dennis left this morning to fetch it.  Meanwhile, the kids glutted themselves on cartoons, me hopping between our two rooms, one with the boys and the other with Ella, packing up bags and pitching detritus.  Last night, Ella saw an advertisement for Barbie Three Musketeers, which she begged to be allowed to watch this morning at 9:00.  For the first time in her life (for she was born in the age of Tivo), she knows what it's like to anticipate a don't-miss Television Special.

The kids wore themselves out sufficiently with fake swordplay: they were pretty mellow for our trip into the mountains, most of which Joey slept through.

I started suspecting that Joey might be tired when he teared up as we started loading our bags into the car.  When we moved out of our apartment, we'd explained over and over to little Joey that we were doing this so that we could move to a different, better home.  I never anticipated that Joey would decide that this hotel was that promised home.  "No, no, I want to stay home! This my house!" It's hard, sometimes, predicting a three-year-old's perspective.

Dennis and I stopped to pick up coffee for the road, and then we headed for the hills.  It was a brief drive, only about three hours, and though it got increasingly, promisingly snowy, we avoided putting chains on the car. So we arrived a little after lunch, in plenty of time for tea and cakes.

Hotel Bär, our home for the next week. It's our Christmas present to ourselves.

Somewhere in there are our kids

You should have seen the kids faces when we opened the door to our room, although Dennis and I were almost as giddy. For the week, we get to enjoy a living room and two bedrooms, and the kids' room has bunk beds and a single. All year, Ella and Alex have been taking turns being first to choose their bed at our hotels, but today Joey surprised everyone by forcefully claimed the top bunk. Ella made a little cave for herself below, while Alex happily claimed the third and largest bed for himself and his stuffed kitty. And then they lined up their advent calendar treats and their goodie bag toys from Caroline's party in their drawers...and with that they were ready to go.

And by "go," I mean tackle the massive indoor playground at the hotel.  It's about three stories high, and on the outside were piles of toys and smiling child-minders, ready to help the kids make Christmas candle holders.  The hotel offers, price included, something like a ridiculous 60 hours of childcare throughout the week. We don't plan on abandoning the children completely but, after a year of no babysitters, Dennis and I certainly don't plan on turning up our noses at the offer, either.

We dropped the kids off to play and then treated ourselves to a cup of coffee and a few moments of enjoying the view, hardly daring to believe that the difficult part was over, and all we have to do now is rest and enjoy the company of one another and our kids, and the fresh air and unparalleled scenery.

There's a little sledding hill right outside the hotel for the kids, and a nearby tram that takes us plop to the foot of the ski slopes.  All three kids are ready for ski school, which for them starts on Monday: Joey will ski for two hours a day in the Mürmlipark, while Ella and Alex have four hours in the snow each day, with a lunch break in the middle.

The view from the front terrace, looking toward the town of Serfaus.  That's the Mürmlipark of Serfaus, with
a magic carpet for the kids to ride to the top of the sledding and skiing hill. So spoiled!

Before dinner, the child-minders of the hotel put on a little Christmas program for the families, featuring  the Weihnachtsmann (whom you and I know as Santa) and the Christkind, the little angel child who, in Europe, is the one responsible for leaving presents on Christmas Eve. For the forward-thinking parents who thought to arrange it, the duo was there to pass out presents and personalized messages to children.  The called about a dozen of the hotel's guests onto the stage, handing everything from single gifts to towers of packages. Mostly these gifts were handed over with a smile, but the first boy who was called onto stage was first given a scolding by the Weihnachtsmann, who told the child, essentially, "You are a very clever boy, but you must not be so fresh with your mother!" And Santa didn't hand over the loot until the boy promised he'd do better.

My kids watched the proceedings intently, and when it suddenly became clear that they weren't receiving a gift from Santa, their shock was plain. Holy moly, had they really been that bad this year??  They received an even greater jolt than the fresh young man, I'm afraid.

So Dennis and I were quick to point out that Santa had a suspiciously feminine voice, and his beard looked oddly uncentered.  And then we broke it down for them: "We didn't get here in time to give the front desk your presents, and besides, we want to give them to you ourselves. Your stockings are hung...I'm sure the real Santa will come."

Alex still looked dubious, but he felt much better when Santa called the rest of the children up on the stage and gave every one of them a sled, one of the little shovel-style sleds that all his classmates rode on the hill outside his classroom at recess.  Alex has desperately wanted one of these sleds: he was overjoyed, and his belief in Christmas magic was cemented.  See: Santa knew exactly what he wanted!

From there, we went on to dinner.  At the other two Kinderhotels we visited, everyone dressed very casually at dinner, so last week we mailed our nice clothes home. But here, everyone but us seemed dressed in their best for the evening.  Ah well: our table for the week is tucked into a little corner of the dining room, so our scruffy selves were pretty inconspicuous, and I'll bet everyone who did see me was mighty jealous of how comfortable I was in my jeans.

The hotel is full-board, so all the (copious) meals, and the snacks in between are included: it's sort of like we're on a cruise ship that's sailing through snow-covered mountains. The kids got to serve themselves from a kid-friendly buffet, and they each had two bowls of sprinkly ice cream after they finished their schnitzel. But Dennis and I apparently get to enjoy six-course dinners each night.  The food is amazing, and I suspect we'll both return home quite plump.

Ohh, this is going to be fun!

The kids were finished with their dessert before Dennis and I received our third course, so we handed them the room key, and they scurried off to rearrange their presents and play a card game.  When we finished with our meal, Alex and Joey were easily tired enough for bed. But Ella still had ice cream coursing through her veins, though, and was reluctant to sleep: only the fear of Santa made her close her eyes.

The kids had hung their stockings by the window with care.  They're still nervous about whether the "real" Santa will be able to find them all the way here, particularly since there's no fireplace in our hotel, I promised them that we could leave a window unlatched, and Santa would find a way.

And so he did. Merry Christmas!