46%...

...of you voted that Björn and I should stay in a B&B in Austria when his father celebrates his 60th birthday at the end of the month. And while I know we asked for your advice, dear Internet, that's just not what we're going to do. We're staying put. Not out of fiestiness (if that's even a word, and for my part, OK, it is a bit out of fiestiness), but more out of the concern that if we do it once, we will be expected to spent every holiday known to your average Christian German (plus all those fake ones) in a drafty B&B in Austria. A country where Björn has more family than he does here in Germany. A country where we would have to, uh, pay to visit them.

The dog issue has nothing to do with the dog herself. Back in September 2007, we asked Björn's parents if we could stay in the house in Austria for a few weeks (they weren't living there at the time). I had some vacation time, and we really wanted to see the family. Björn's dad said it was no problem, but we should make sure Lilly didn't scratch the floor with her claws. And as he said this, Björn's mother's face turned very sour. Björn asked what her problem was, and she said that she didn't want to have the dog in the house until they had a doghouse outside. Anyone who knows Lilly can tell you that leaving her outside just will not work. I mean, her doggie bed is next to our bed and is equipped with a heating pad. Nevermind that we normally wake up with her sleeping between us. Yes, we spoil this dog, but she had it rough the first two years of her life, so we feel justified in doing so. Björn told his parents that if we couldn't bring the dog, then spending Christmas and other holidays with them would be impossible. They took this in stride back then; I wasn't pregnant with their granddaughter yet.

Anyway. Knowing Björn's mother, the issue is not having a dog in their house, but rather she needs something over which she has control. Of course, this rigidness is to their disadvantage, because it means we can't spend too much time with them there. This fact never seemed to bother them until their wonderfully adorable granddaughter showed up on the scene. And now? I don't see why we should always be the ones to be constantly compromising (like when I say nothing to my mother in law when she calls Harper "Ophelia" because she allegedly can't pronounce Harper correctly.)

It should also be said that they added on to their house last year, prior to moving to Austria for good in November. Björn's bedroom there (which was subsequently our bedroom) was turned into a dressing room for his parents, their old bedroom was turned into an office and they added a new room on to their house as their new bedroom. They have a windowless room in the basement that serves as their guest room (we slept downthere during my very first visit there in 2003; I woke up with serious allergy problems, something Björn's mother more or less said that I was making up.). Long story short, it doesn't seem like they were thinking about us or their grandchild (and the others to possibly come) when they added on to their house. Plus, honestly, how would you feel if your parents didn't really have a place for you in their house?

Perhaps you can sense from the humorlessness of this post that the whole situation has me really angry. Like I've said before, there's so much more that has happened between us and Björn's parents that has brought the relationship to the point where it is today, namely completely superficial. But I am not so calculating or mean as to want to use Harper as a pawn in all of this. We're planning on going to Austria in the summer for a few weeks, when it's warm enough for us to stay on Björn's cousin's farm. They have an old mill that's been turned into a guest apartment that we can stay in with Lilly; the only problem is that it's not heated, so we can only use it in the summer.

Gah.