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!

Ich Liebe Es

I have great ideas sometimes that never make it beyond my moronic muttering to myself around the house, causing bouts of hysterical laughter and entertaining a little girl who doesn’t know that talking to yourself is kinda weird.  So I talk to myself.  Alot sometimes.  Big deal. Most that know me know I’m a little off kilter.  However, today I’m going to make plunge and announce this:

I LOVE MCDONALD’S!

Now let’s take a deep breath and not freak out here.  I started bouncing this idea off my mom last night who replied “Eeeewww”!  Yes, I will admit there are far better burgers out there.  Yes, I have felt sick after some of the grease-and-salt-disguised-as-food meals.   Just last month I was one of the people who poo-pooed Micky D’s.  But listen: after 4 years of expat life McDonald’s is the one place I can go and have a burger and fries and know what I’m getting.  It will always taste the same no matter where on earth you are.  McDonald’s does not let you down.  Not to mention they will always have the cleanest bathrooms around the world, WITH TOILET PAPER, but that’s a different discussion entirely.

So I got past the burgers and started looking at McDonald’s as a whole.  First of all, how do they get their food to taste the same world wide?  The consistency is pretty amazing, and it’s consistency that continues to sell a product.  Second, McDonald’s is EVERYWHERE!  Kids worldwide clamor for a chance at a Happy Meal or an ice cream cone.  Whether it’s the branding aimed at the very young or simply the free toy, I have watched families sit down and enjoy a bit of the American fast food phenomena over, and over, and over again.  I mean, it’s like worldwide marketing domination!

Muuuaaaahhhh, haaa haaa haaaaa!

McDonald’s also sponsors sporting events and encourages and educates about healthy, active living.  The Ronald McDonald charities do some great  work and offer scholarships worldwide.  The more I think about McDonald’s the more impressed I get with the company as a whole.  OK, so there was the whole “Super Size Me” thing that grossed us all out.  But that’s kinda what I’m saying here; there’s much more to McDonald’s than meets the burger.

Spring Is In The Air

Ahhhh yes, spring is in the air. The trees are blooming and new leaves are rapidly appearing on the once bare branches; tulips and daffodils can be seen everywhere in beautiful splashes of yellow, white, pink and red; my car is covered with a fine dust of the plentiful pollen in the air; and those busy little bees tried to move into my window frame.

I love the spring with it’s crisp honest scent of renewal and “Hell, Yeah!  We’ve made it through another winter!”  But let’s face it.  I’m too old to be getting random roommates.

So, I went downstairs to the nice man from Kazakhstan who takes care of little household stuff, and in my broken German explained that the vespas were in my fenster, but no matter what I said, and I’m pretty sure I was using the right words (I think), no matter how hard I try and loose the accent I always manage to sound like John Wayne speaking German, minus the deep voice of course.  The nice man who takes care of little household stuff responded back to me with his Kazakhstani accent leaving me completely stumped for what he was trying to say.  We had a major failure to communicate.  I finally waved him upstairs, showed him the problem, and called my husband, who is currently working in Portugal, to translate the problem.  This whole boring story sums up to my bees being taken care of before they ran me out of the house, and finding out that my husband gets to sit on the beach and get paid to do it for 2 days due to a lack of supplies.

Now, does that seem fair to you?

Damn bees.

Who has the time?

Oh My God!

Am I writing?  I am!  I really am!  Yet I feel that I don’t have much to say these days.  I have been completely consumed by the new mommy role I play that I have let things I used to think were really important fall by the wayside.  Like my toes haven’t been painted in God knows how long, although in all fairness I have only recently been able to comfortably reach them again.  I need a hair cut.  I desperately need to go out and buy something other than these grubby jeans I keep wearing, and I really should think about some kind of extreme dry skin therapy for my hands.  Don’t get me wrong though.  I don’t look hideous.  I am still clean, presentable and fairly well, although very casually, put together.  My house is clean.  My laundry is done.  My kid looks great all the time.  It’s just those little things I used to enjoy so much, that extra polish and care I suppose, is gone.

Needless to say, along with the extra polish my writing has suffered as well.   I mean, how many times can I realistically write about the baby talk I hold each day?  Who really wants to read about how cute I think my kid is, how she peed and crapped all over the place during PEKIP the other day, and how I’ve gotten her to enjoy talking a bath?  Other moms I am sure can relate.

So today, after nap time, I am going out for a little retail therapy.  I refuse to let myself slide into the “unkempt” catagory.  I need a little polish.  But I will admit it is harder for me to fit in a little time for me than I thought it would be.

Kung Hey Fat Choy

Which means Happy New Year!  It’s the first day of the lunar new year according to the Chinese calendar and initially I was excited.  It’s the year of the ox and I am an ox.  We work hard.  We plod on towards our goals despite obstacles that might be thrown in our way.  We are reliable.  We are trustworthy.  We do it.  We get there.  And so I thought this was going to be a great year for me.  This morning the baby woke up early.  I was motivated to get some yoga in, and then my mom called me around 8.  “Call your sister.  She says she can’t get through to you when she dials for some reason”, she tells me.  OK, I think, my sister wants to talk.  Unsuspectingly I call her up and receive a bombshell of information.  Nothing harmful.  Nothing scary.  No one died and everyone is relatively OK, but it made me unbelievably sad.  I also have serious sirens going off in my head; huge red flags screaming “SOMETHING IS SOOOO NOT RIGHT HERE”!!!  But I have no way to contact.  I am far away.  There is nothing I can do but watch a bad situation spiral horrifically out of control.  And sadly, that makes me even more sad.

Which is why, obviously, I decided to check out what my Chinese horoscope for the year was going to be.  Because, OF COURSE that’s what you do when you get crap news.  Doesn’t everybody?  Well, I found out this is going to be a crap year for the ox.  Unlucky stars everywhere.  I will not gain money.  I will be distracted.  Challenges and hardships will continuously crop up over the year.  I will fight with my spouse more, and my health is in jeopardy mainly due to my distractions, and so I need to be extra careful while driving.

Great, all I need is to be hit by another car.

So far no good.  I don’t want to continue.  I have been through enough, I feel.  I feel totally screwed by the karmic God’s that arranged this, and yet due to my ox nature I am already thinking about how I can get through the year.  Maybe it won’t be so bad, but I tell ya, in my experience the Chinese have been right about a thing or two in the past, so I better drive very, very carefully.

Venturing out of the baby cave

I am up at 3 am writing instead of going back to bed and getting the sleep I so desperately need.  It’s as good of a time as any to write a few comments about becoming a new mother.

I have been in a serious baby cave.  I get out more.  Things at the 7 week mark have gotten markedly easier.  I am better able to organize myself and get normal things done.  I have figured out how to sleep here and there and still feel rested.  And let’s face it, I have always had dark circles under my eyes, so I can’t really feel to sad about that.

I am amazed at just how much life changes with the first baby.  I mean, we expected life to change.  We expected to be tired and up at all hours of the night, and were ready for it as well.  But I really think that both my husband and I underestimated just how much it would be.  It’s not something people tell you about, in fact, I don’t think anyone would be able to clearly tell you just how much of a change it is.  I am usually not at a loss for words but all I have to say about this one is: WOW.  And don’t get me wrong, it’s a wonderful WOW, but a big fat WOW none-the-less.

So, when I was single and childless I always noted behaviors I swore I would never catch myself doing.  For example, I always told myself I wouldn’t be the sappy type of parent who showed friends endless baby pictures of virtually the same expression.  I’ve come to find out, however, it’s pretty much a law of nature.  I have video taped my child doing nothing but cooing and smacking her lips and have showed pretty much every friend and family member who has come to the house.  I think it’s adorable, and of course I am told by said friends and family it is, but I have to wonder: are they just being polite as I have done so many times, or are they genuinely impressed by the cuteness that is my child?  And she is soooo cute!  You should see the way she curls up into a ball when she sleeps, like a little peanut!  Or the way she stretches and grunts as she wakes up, balling up her hands into fists and stretching into the air.  And she has the cutest toothless, gummy smile and this great little laugh when she thinks something is funny.  Oh wait, am I doing that sappy thing again?

I have to say the amount of time I have spent watching my daughter is pretty amazing.  Who needs a TV when you have a baby?  Not to mention the snuggles are amazing, and I can sit for forever snuggling the little peanut.

Things of course aren’t always all cute and cuddly.  My kid is a puker and will leak milk after pretty much every feed.  I have come to wear regurgitated milk proudly, because changing into a clean shirt would just result in another puked on shirt.  The majority of it ends up on the kid anyway.  Thankfully we have an abundant wardrobe for her as we change her at least twice a day in an attempt to keep her dry in the freezing weather, not to mention there is a stinky cheese quality we like to try and avoid.

There are certain expressions we have come up with during moments of- what?  I think these can be best described as “moments”.  Anyway, my favorite is the day my husband was changing a diaper and cried out. “My God!  She crapped like a total lunatic”!!  Immediately I had images of a Woody Woodpecker-ish character.  Wooo hoooo!!  Woooo hoooo!!  Or maybe “crapping like a lunatic” looked more like Heath Ledger in “Dark Knight”, licking his lips and drooling, commenting on the softness of the toilet paper and balling up his crossword.  But whatever it looks like to “crap like a lunatic” I knew exactly what my husband meant: the kid was up to her neck in poo and needed a serious bath.  I can just see myself in play group.  “My kid can crap like a lunatic, what about yours?”

Anyway, that’s all I really have time for.  As things continue to get easier and I am able to venture further out of the baby cave I have been in I will hopefully have more time to write.  But for now, it looks like the wee hours of the morning are going to be my best time to get a few words down every now and again.

Insonmnia

I can’t sleep. I have been up since 2 am and am still hoping I can get some shut eye before my week in the hospitol. Yes, a week, because that is what they do here in Germany.

Tomorrow I get admitted for a planned c-section on Monday. I know. I should be much happier about the birth of my child, and I am to some extent. I am nervous as all hell. Surgery does not sound fun. My last child died from a massive strep B infection and so I am freaking out about all the stupid possibilities and uncertanties and wracking my brain for anything that might happen that I haven’t thought of yet. I know. Useless waste of energy that one is.

Oddly enough I have been mostly calm leading up to this, with only a few manic days peppered in here and there. I am not really thinking about it. If I do I change my thoughts to more pleasent, positive, and productive thoughts. But tonight I can’t sleep so I think I just need to get my worrying “out there” and be (somewhat) done with it.

So here I am. 5 am. 3 cookies and a bottle of water later, and I still can’t sleep. There isn’t anything worth watching on TV. I don’t feel like investing time in a book. Mom is here but well, it’s 5 am. I wonder if now is a good time to clean out the old towels and sheets from the linens. That would be a quiet task. See? Total avoidence of what is about to happen. I’m good at it. I don’t know whether it’s survival instinct or good old fashioned denial, but I am good at it.

I WILL bring this child home. I will.
I have to go cry now.

Thank you

It was a normal morning, like any other.  Andy and I were wondering what we should do with our day.  We did a quick clean up on the house, nothing exciting at all.  Andy went to take the garbage out (yes, that’s how mundane this day really was) and nearly fell into a big bag of goodies.

We weren’t expecting anything from anyone.  Neither of us have a birthday.  We were completely stumped about this mystery package.  We thought maybe it was for one of the neighbors instead.  Regardless, we started going through the bag to see what was in it.  There was: a bottle of wine, 4 bags of highly addictive German christmas cookies- now dubbed the crack cookies, and a very soft, white stuffed moose.  At the very bottom of the bag was a thank you card.  (In German of course.)

Andy opened the card and started reading.  “It was almost a year ago now and I never have thanked you properly”, it read.  None of this was making any sense to us.  “You flashed your lights and made us pull over.  Just a couple more meters and our wheel would have flown off, causing an accident”.  Ah!  Of course!

Almost a year ago Andy and I were driving home down our 2 lane country road.  It was dark and cold at the time and mildly rainy.  There was a large van, full of people in front of us, and Andy noticed that one of the rear tires was wobbling horribly.  “What should I do”, he had said.  “Should I stop them”?  I remember answering with something like we don’t want anyone to get hurt, when all of a sudden one of the bolts went flying off the tire and across the road.  Andy flashed his lights, and after a few minutes got the driver to pull his van over.

Turned out this man was taking his wife and a bunch of her friends to some holiday dance show.  After a quick explanation he was in the back of our car and we were on our way to his shop to pick up a new van.  We never told him our names, only that we lived in Verlar and that I am an American and Andy is German and works on windmills.  And almost a year later he tracked us down and surprised us with a thank you bag of goodies.  We never expected anything, and yet were so touched to receive it.

Isn’t that cool?