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.

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?

Update

After going completely postal via WordPress I went back to the Post the next day (after considerably chilling out) and the nice woman at the counter was just as confused why my mail had come back to me.  She resent it again and so far so good.  So I think we have success!

I take it back.

I just talked to my brother in law about a ride home from the airport.  I’m excited to get back into my own home, despite the fact I will miss this old home of mine.  Anyway, it’s time to see just how much damaged our poor little car has after the freak hailstorm they had in Germany.  Fingers crossed please!

Well…

I’ve come to realize a few things.  First of all, trying to get any kind of writing done with the husband around is pointless.  Second, I don’t really want to go back to  Germany.  I know, what’s my freakin problem, huh?  Well, the problem is this: California is by far one of the best places on earth despite chronic fires, drought, and the threat of earthquakes.  There is a beach,  and mountains, and baseball exists here.  There is mouth watering Mexican food and shoes that come in colors other than black and brown.  Red, white and blue is a sign of nationalistic pride and not oppressive  occupation.  You can find everything and more thanks to rampant consumerism and the constant need for bigger, better, more.  They understand a drink needs plenty of ice here.  The weather is beautiful, and dammit, I have a tan!!

Germany is home now.  It is the place where all my stuff is.  It is equally beautiful in a quaint kind of way and the people are fabulous.  They have great bratwurst, bread and beer and understand that Italian food does not equal the Olive Garden.  I have terrific in-laws and a few good friends.  I can drive faster there.  Life is not as excessive, and therefor much more simple and relaxing.  So, what is my problem?

I guess it boils down to one simple fact:  You can take the girl out of America, but you can’t take the American out of the girl.  And by God, I am a rootin, tootin, flag waving dreamer at heart AND a true blue Californian.   People worldwide think I’m nuts and there’s not a damn thing I can or care to do about it.

So I need to find different activities in Germany.  There is no ocean, so rule that out.  There are no mountains by me.  I live in a very rural, flat bit of farmland.  Here are some options:

• start hunting
• start farming
• swimming  (problem: can’t exercise right now, doc’s orders)
• yoga  (again,  the no exercise rule)
• write write write!!
• more social interaction (problem: need to learn German)
• get a job (current pregnancy and the lack of German get in the way.  Maybe with the Brits?  The Americans?)
• find an art class
• start my 600 hours of German integration coursework required by the government (Ok, but we were looking for fun here)
• drag race circut
• join the circus
• golf

Or maybe I should just stop whining and get on  with it.  Life is actually pretty good and who wants all ice in a drink anyway when it’s snowing?

And I’m back!

Well, I’m back.  I know I’ve been terrible about writing, but a little over three weeks on the road visiting friends and family I haven’t seen in ages didn’t allow for much time to write.  Instead, I enjoyed familiar territory, good food, conversation, and enjoyed the company of countless people I hold dear to my heart.  It has been wonderful!!

Anyway, a quick little update about the current life and times of Amis the (not so) Famous.

Home Sweet Home

I never thought I would say this. I am thrilled, yes THRILLED to be back at home in Germany. The open green spaces. The food, oh the FOOD! Eating is now enjoyable again, and not just something I have to do. (Although, sadly, this problem didn’t help me loose any weight while we were away.) The daffodils in bloom everywhere along with the spring buds on the trees. The clean crisp air and patchy blue sky. And finally the snow that was falling this morning. I had to get outside in it all.

My husband and I walked into the fresh crisp air this morning at about 8am. The brief storm had cast a thin white blanket of snow over the newly green fields. Soft piles of crisp white snow surrounded bright green and yellow daffodils, pink cherry and white apple blossoms. The sun had come out against a bright blue sky, and our breath billowed out like soft smoke from our mouths. Hand and hand we walked to the bakery for fresh roles for breakfast, smiling at the beauty surrounding us. It’s good to be home!

It All Started When…

Well, I’ve gone and done it. Finally, my very own blog. I feel so grown up now in the blog world.

It all started when I left the US to live in Taiwan for a year. On the windswept, random island of Penghu, part of my weekly ritual was writing. I wrote to give myself something to do. I wrote to entertain family and friends. I wrote to stay in touch.