Just For Laughs

We’ve been experiencing some pretty serious tantrums in and out of the house, which is by far more traumatizing…

for me.

It’s a strange feeling to love someone so much and want to throw them out of the window at the same time.  I’ve been told by other mothers that I would feel this way.  I just didn’t know how guilty these feelings would make me feel.  Needless to say, while my daughter is/ was completely wanted and loved, I stumbled into this last night and laughed.

I Really Wanted Pink Roses

Today was meant to be in honor of Grandma: an amazing woman, who gave tirelessly to those around her, who taught me patience (still trying to get that one down), forgiveness (well, I’m getting there), and perseverance (A+ in this one).  In a nutshell, my grandmother passed away at the age of 92, almost 93.  She lived a long and wonderful life.  She had a horrible type of cancer that could have been very painful and prolonged.  She passed away quickly, peacefully.  And for that I am grateful.

I have a hundred memories of her that demand my attention.  Like the way she always made me pancakes in the shape of gingerbread men with hats.  (Of course this stopped as I grew older.)  Or how she would always whip out a map whenever I was talking about somewhere I was going or had been.  Or how she seemed to know something about almost everything; there was always a story connected to a story connected to yet another story, which leads me to believe she had quite a bit to do with my love of stories.  (Verbage: very Grandma.)  Mostly, that in that house I was always loved unconditionally.  Because of this, I set out today with a mind to do things that would honor my grandmother, whatever they might be.

I got up early.  (Very grandma.)  I was in the car, organized, packed (kids take a special kind of organization) and on our way by 9am.  (On time, again, very grandma.)  We were on our way to see a friend I haven’t seen since before Christmas.  I was going to have big girl time for the first time in weeks.  My daughter, however, wasn’t going to be having any of it.

OK.  So she’s 15 months old, and to some of you that might seem harmless, but she’s smart and strong willed (Gee!  Wonder where she gets THAT from!)  and in trying to be a sensible parent I am trying to teach about choices.  (And trust me, I am not a monster, and she does get it.)

It started with breakfast.  My little terrific eater turned passive aggressive, almost sensing things weren’t all about her.  Getting dressed turned downright ugly.  I couldn’t get anything warm on the kid other than a pair of tights and a long sleeved shirt.  She screamed for her red boots versus the warm comfy (yet not as fashionable) boots I would have picked.  Not wanting to fight, I finally gave in and let her do it, knowing if we were lucky it would be zero degrees out today.  And so this is how things actually went:

Once outside and walking around my daughter started screaming because she was cold.  (Go figure.)  We went inside to change her diaper and she let me put her warm clothes on.  (Of course I took them with me!  What kind of person do you think I am?)  Once warm and cozy she proceeds to run amok through the department store we happened to be in.  Not usually a problem, however, any time I tried to re-direct her she screamed.

Now, my daughter doesn’t have any ordinary scream.  She never has.  In fact, the day she was born she knew she could scream like the best actress in a horror flick about to be killed, only my daughter is by far more convincing.  Long story short, a lot of people came rushing down aisles to make sure everything was ok.  Some realized it as a tantrum, others saw me as a devil.  I really didn’t get the chance to catch up with my friend, and once we were in the car and on our way back home the kid started giggling and babbling like it was the best thing ever.  (Insert own perceptions here.)

As a result I am exhausted.  Homage to Grandma hasn’t really gone very far and the most I could do for her today was light a few candles under the Virgin Mary in the Paderborn Dom for her.  I am drinking wine (so not Grandma) and ignoring a pile of laundry (again, not Grandma) but considering making a cake on Sunday for the family (back to being very Grandma).  The best thing I can say is this; “I love you.  And I know you are with me regardless of what happens”.

Benjamin? Are you OK?

I had the craziest dream last night.  Nothing spectacular happened.  I wasn’t frightened or sad or even happy.  All that happened was I kept walking through my apartment and finding dead house plants and leaves.  Now I take pride in my houseplants and enjoy keeping them warm, green, and as happy as any house plant can possibly be.  But these leaves!  They were everywhere.  And just when I cleaned everything up I would turn around to find more yellow and brown leaves sitting in neat geometrical piles next to yet another twig of a potted plant.  It bothered me.  It bothered me so much I found myself wide awake at 5 in the morning contemplating life in general.  Well, my life in general, that is.

I did what any normal person would do.  I went out and checked on Benjamin (yes, we call our beloved Ficus “Benjamin”) and made sure he was OK.  Then I went to the computer and googled “dream interpretation”, only to find out that dead plants in your dreams signify a dead end in your life.  To see indoor plants suggests my growth is being stunted and that I am experiencing a lack of independence.  To see dead plants suggests I am at a standstill in my life.  A rut.  A need for change and challenge.  Which is kind of funny to find out because that is exactly what I was contemplating at 5 a.m.

I find this all fairly interesting because my life is extremely rich.  I am married to a wonderful man.  I have a beautiful and incredibly awesome little girl.  I am comfortable, clothed, well fed and enjoy nice surroundings.  The one thing I know I am missing is this: Me.  I cook.  I clean.  I care for.  I bathe.  I wash.  I buy.  I run around.  I play.  And while, yes, admittedly I do these things for myself as well, I mostly do things for others.  Don’t get me wrong.  I am not complaining.  But in the process of becoming a wife and a mother I have completely lost sight of myself, my goals, my dreams.  So I’m left in a spot where I would like to get those back, in some form, and not be in the bloody rut I find myself in.

Last week, literally, last week I decided I needed to find more people I can directly relate to, be it English speakers or even better, English speaking Americans.  I even spent an entire evening searching the web for English speaking forums in Germany.  Most of the people out there were in Berlin or Munich.  I am close to neither. However the God’s are seriously looking out for me because two days ago, in a toy shop while I was waiting in line to pay, I struck up a small and insignificant conversation with the woman in front of me.  And guess what?  She’s and American!!!  Needless to say this small and insignificant conversation started winding and weaving and ended up being someone to spend Thanksgiving with, a friend, a mother of a little girl just slightly younger than mine, and the heads up on an upcoming job opening.  Amazing!

I have always believed this of the universe.  What you put out there you get back full fold.  If you need something, you will be given it in some form.   This isn’t the first time I have asked and received, it just happens to be the most recent.  Some might find it insignificant, a meer coincidence.  Others believe in the power of miracles.  I like to think I am in very good hands, lovingly shaped by good friends and family and the karmic ebb and flow that keeps us all interconnected, or rather, what makes this that small world we all tend to comment on.

I could wax poetic forever on this, however, I am tired.  So if you will please excuse me, I have some houseplants that need some serious TLC tonight.

Back to the normal grind

After 3 glorious months together, including a rather tenuous adjustment period where we had to learn to deal with each other on a daily basis, my husband resumes his normal schedule today of 8 weeks away, 2 or 3 weeks home depending on scheduling needs.

I can’t really complain because it does provide a nice life.  I’m just going to say it’s nice to be together.  And that I really hope our little daddy’s girl doesn’t take it too hard.

Time and Time Again

Can someone please tell me where does a year go?

We are rapidly approaching my daughter’s first birthday and I amazed by so many things.  First of which is where does the time go?  I mean, I feel like she was born yesterday!  (Insert witty remark here.)  And yet here I have this little human being who insists on brushing her teeth herself, pokes repeatedly at her bowl with a spoon in an attempt to use her utensils, and was very excited to communicate to me that she can moo like a cow upon seeing the picture.  I am blown away daily at how fast she developes and how she is able to communicate little things very clearly to me alongside her non-sensical babble.  She is the sweetest little thing in the world.  Well, at least in my world.

Maybe part of it is seeing just how much a tiny helpless baby can develop over a short period of time.  Maybe the time just flies and I just never wanted to hold on to it like I do now.  Maybe I finally have a gauge in my life that makes me aware of just how much time is passing by.  I don’t know.  But I do know this:  that little saying “Life is short” means just a little bit more to me.

If you’re ever in the area…

If you ever happen to be around the area of Falkenberg/ Morup/ Varberg/ Tvaakar, Sweden, consider staying at Rodlix!  OK, these towns are agreeably on the list of completely random places to be in the world, but whether you’re just passing through or touring the area, Rodlix is a clean, comfortable, safe, quiet family place to stay.  The owners are wonderful, open, friendly and very helpful.  They converted an old barn into a hostel, but there are also plenty of camping places and a few cabins for rent.  We stayed in the hostel, and while we had to stay in bunkbeds there was plenty of room to move about inside the room.  The kitchen was well stocked with just about every dish or cooking utensil you might need, they had plenty of toilets and showers and everything was clean, clean, CLEAN!!  There was even a washer and dryer if you needed to do a quick load of wash!

Outside there were plenty of tables and chairs to relax in.  There were all kinds of animals to visit: pigs, sheep, goats horses, chickens and guinea pigs.  There was the cutest play house stocked with dishes and tea sets and a climbing gym beside it for the kids.  There are several clean beaches within 10 minutes drive time in the area, and tiny harbor that’s close by for a nice short walk.  Quite honestly, I didn’t want to leave it was so relaxing!

Forest Shopping

We are currently in Sweden spending a little time with my husband on his work trip while he stays in one spot.  The baby and I have gone here and there, exploring the Swedish coast and countryside.  Of course we’ve done a little shopping as well.  Who doesn’t while on sudo- vacation?  The other day we returned to the hostel from one of said shopping excursions when the owner walked up to me and asked, “Have you been to the big shop in the forest yet”?

Somehow an image of the Keebler elves selling things out of trees flashed into my mind.  “I’m sorry, a shop in the forest”, I asked.

“Yes”, she replied.  “It’s a very big shop in the middle of the forest, and you can buy everything very cheap.  There are big buses that take people there from both Sweden and Denmark.  It is very crazy.”

Needing suggestions for something to do that day I quickly got directions and got in the car to go.  It was only 40 minutes away.

We drove through some beautiful countryside.  There seems to be a lot of that here in Sweden.  Blue sky with white fluffy clouds looking down on bright green rolling hills dotted with barn red buildings (buildings = homes, barns and other outhouses) here and there with a smattering of yellow homes being the second choice of color.  (My husband always comments the houses look like they’re made in IKEA.)  We passed by beautiful lakes dotted with trees, horse stables and a few tiny villages.  We made our way into more and more trees until we were in fact driving through an actual forest.  You can’t drive fast at all here in Sweden so the pace of the trip made it all that much more peaceful and appealing.  And then we came to a clearing, where in the middle of nowhere was this:

Unfortunately this does not paint the whole picture.  This was surrounded by huge parking lots, and I mean a HUGE amount of parking that was mostly full.  There was even space in the back for camper vans to camp overnight.  The next layer in the circle were various other little shops, a car museum, and fast food restaurants.  Not one or two, several restaurants.  This place was so packed there were two different buildings housing toilets and three places the size of a 3 car garage housing shopping carts.  While there were no elves the scene was definitely reminiscent of some kind of carnival.  There were people picnicking everywhere.  There were kiddie rides.  There were people taking pictures with their shopping bags.  There were whole families spending the day together and walking out with carts full of their purchases.  Let me just say this again; it’s in the middle of NOWHERE.

I followed the line of people in.  This place was Costco and Walmart combined!  (A nightmare in retrospect.)  And it was crazier than I had expected.  People were everywhere, running into each other trying to get to the next interesting item.  I browsed everything from DVD’s to toasters, clothing to tents.  I passed by stacks of shampoo taller than myself.  (OK, so I’m short and that doesn’t say much, but these piles of stuff were massive.)  I spent an hour going through the store.  What did I have in my basket at the end of an hour?

Socks.  I had socks for my husband, my daughter and myself.  Who looks at stuff for an hour and only picks up socks?  So I did what every normal person would do, I put my basket down on a lower shelf in the bedding aisle as I pretended to be interested in some sheets, and then walked away and out of the store.  I don’t think a flashing neon sign could have pointed out that I didn’t need anything more effectively, but at least I can say that I have been to the big shop in the forest.

Smiles

Be creative.  Be creative.  Be creative!!

I received pictures of us from when we were visiting Brandenburg today.  We all look a little rough from the camping, (RV camping really isn’t so hard though.) and being on the road for a while, but still, they were such a nice surprise!  First time I met Andy’s best friend’s parents, and I am instantly family!!  Long story short, it helped remind me to do what I love.

Restaurant Bitch

Yesterday I went shopping with my 7 month old and then treated myself to a nice lunch in a nice restaurant.  Being that I am a full time mom who’s husband is away working most of the time, I almost never get to sit down and have my food prepared, brought to me, and cleaned up for me.  In other words, I don’t get out much anymore.

So I went into a restaurant.  You know, the kind with tables cloths and decent napkins.  As I sat down and ordered my sparkeling water I glanced over at the table next to me, who I noticed was giving me some seriously INTENSE stink eye!

Let me start by saying that I have worked in restaurants for years and know that some kids are difficult to take out.  I have seen the three foot radius of debris a child can leave behind and have cleaned up flung Cheerios that seemed to breed on their own.  I know that for some diners, having to hear a screaming child that isn’t their own can be disturbing, especially when you’ve paid to go out and enjoy a meal.  But no one deserves some haughty bitch looking down their nose in disgust as you walk into a restaurant with a perfectly behaved child.

And that’s how it went.  My kid laughed and giggled and was a little angel that charmed everyone but the frosty bitch next to me.  I enjoyed a great meal and the kid loved every minute of the restaurant experience.  As if it wasn’t enough, the unfriendly woman next to me threw me yet another look as she left, and all I could think was, “Man!  It must be hard work to be so miserable”!

I Am Connected, Therefore I am

Once upon a time, back in the dark ages, everyone didn’t walk around with their own personal phone.  They used this dinosaur of an invention called a pay phone.  No, no- PAY PHONE.  Not: pay as you go cellular phone.  You paid 10, then 25, and then 35 cents and stood in a little booth to make a call.  I know grasshoppah, the times have changed.

I was one of the few that held out getting a cell phone.  I simply didn’t want to be that accessible.  I thought I was really cool when I finally got one, text messaging and all that, you know, because I had bought the thing with the intention of using it for emergencies only.  It didn’t take long for the emergency to become where everyone was meeting for cocktails.

I started chatting online, because clearly, I was not connected enough through my cell phone.   I started to keep in touch with Myspace, uploading pictures, creating profiles and picking music.  That morphed into Facebook, which I spend more time fooling aimlessly around on than I care to admit to.  And now I have made the jump to Twitter, for some God forsaken reason, because I don’t screw around on the computer enough it seems.

Don’t get me wrong here.  I love the internet and all of the ways I am able to keep in contact with friends and family.  It has provided me with a quick and easy way to stay connected while I live overseas.  I would have lost many of the people on my friends list without these platforms.  The problem, I’m finding, is that I fuck around online way too much.  Instead of doing that Pilates or Yoga I check my Facebook.  Instead of writing and being somewhat productive I browse the celebrity tabloids or try and understand why Twitter is cool.  (I’m am so far unimpressed with Twitter.)  Instead of going to IKEA or studying my German I double check my email and see who is available to chat.

OK, you’re right.  Who really needs to go to IKEA?  But the point being is that I have found 50 ways to avoid all those little tasks I really should be taking care of, and the beauty of it is that it’s all disguised as communication!