Once upon a time Papa had a wonderful opportunity to work in the Netherlands and Mama could work from anywhere in the world, so the Leander Family moved to Groningen where they were very happy and while they couldn’t fly home for Xmas, they found a new tradition of flying down to a very warm island and that suited them just fine.
Lemme start over.
Once upon a time there was a Swedish papa and an American mama who lived in the Netherlands and had a wise brave boy, S, and a pair of twins, L and G.
Every December, the Dutch welcomed SinterKlaas and his helpful Pieten. Sint, as he was known by his friends, would come early in the month, bringing toys to the good girls and boys and any child who was bad would be kidnapped by the Pieten, thrown in their bags and taken to Spain where Sint and the Pieten lived the rest of the year.
Up at 06:45, make two bottles, prop the twins, set up the four year old, S, with filmpjes, brush teeth, shower, and dress myself in three point four two seconds, dress S and get him downstairs eating breakfast, grab a twin, dress them and buckle them into a carseat with a cookie, repeat with the second twin, make S’ lunch, pack his backpack, get shoes and coats on everyone, and pile into the car.
S and I get dropped off at school – P takes the twins to daycare and continues with his day – I trick S into embracing his fate and then walk to a local cafe for breakfast, entirely too much caffeine and a couple of hours of writing.