Cow bells and Alphorns

This past long weekend we celebrated the Swiss National holiday by traveling up to a local mountain top, eating bratwurst, listening to some folk music, and camping over night with about a trillion mosquitoes and some other brave hearted Swiss.

I have been doing this since I was about 2 months old.  My parents would pack up our family tent and schlep my sister, myself and my brother up to a local rustic chalet in the woods to celebrate the country of their birth and their nationality.  I have decided to continue the tradition with my own son, since it is after all a part of his heritage too.

At first I was nervous about camping over night in a tent with a 16 month old while accordion music blasted away nearby well into the night, but my worries turned out to be needless because Jake handled it like a rock star.

My boy is Swiss.

And lovin' every minute of it!

He stayed up late listening to traditional Swiss folk music, giggling, clapping and shaking his bootie to the beats until dark.

He cuddled up with his Oma and leaned into her as she whispered Swiss rhymes and songs into his ears. He ate rye buns, and sampled bratwurst and nussgipfel, but made a pass on the potato salad. Then when his heavy eyes could take no more he crashed in our tent as the sounds of alphorns lulled him to sleep.

And the best part is, we get to do it all again next year.