Ex Patria

Chronic non-specific diarrhea of childhood

Welcome.  Probably you've come here because your child suffers from loose stools and no doctor finds anything wrong with him or her.  You've googled the symptoms, and here you are.  My main article on the subject on this blog is titled "Enigma".  The most helpful resources I found are located at the top of the right sidebar.

Episode VII - Moving on

Washington, DC
Belgrade, Serbia
Bucharest, Romania
Yerevan, Armenia
Fladungen, Germany
Chisinau, Moldova
Fladungen, Germany
{Ramallah, Palestine}
.
.
.
Pristina, Kosovo.  

Didn't see that one coming, did you?

War, organ theft, mysterious white vans, Blue Helmets, abject poverty, poor air quality... and really not much more is what comes to mind when asked about Pristina.  Maybe the one or other war massacre.  Not exactly a garden spot on this planet.

We are, of course, delighted.  Not about the Kosovo - personally, I'm kind of done with the Balkans.  I'd love a more exotic place, like Nepal, with cool photo ops.  {Insert bout of jealousy for my friend Monique who is moving just there.}  But heh - it's a job, with relative job security, for three years.  With benefits. We are lucky.  (And if you know me well, you can tell from the use of bold typeface how truly excited we are!)

What is there to do in Pristina?  Apparently, very little.  Expats work there... and work some more.  Often, I heard, people put in weekend hours just because there is nothing else to do on the weekends. That may be a remnant of the single-(wo)man posting that Kosovo was for years on end.  These days, more and more families move to Pristina which is also reflected in the presence of serveral so-called "International Schools".  There is an evolving night scene, apparently, but let's be brutally honest - the last time I had a date with my husband, we came back home at 10 pm because we were tired.  Sad, but true.

What is there to say about Kosov?  It's a country.  Of sorts.  Under UN protection, still, and the politics are so complicated, I choose to live there for a while before I comment on that particular can of worms.  Especially after what happened when Doug wrote about Adem Jashari back in 2005.

It's mountainous.  There are a lot of kids - the average age of the population is under 30.  Preparing to feel old.  Apparently, they have a very vegetarian diet which pleases me.  It's almost impossible to get packages by mail (because of customs).  No Amazon deliveries, check.  (Going into panic ordering mode now.)  You can go skiing.  Not that we do.

It's landlocked, of course.  Like Serbia, and Armenia, Moldova, and Palestine.  The kids love the beach so much, it's like a curse to be sent to one landlocked country after another.  However, it sits next to Montenegro which we love (although we don't like the prices) and Montenegro sits smack on the Adriatic, so that may be a positive (let's reserve judgment until we've done that drive, for all I know it'll take 15 hours on potholed serpentine roads). 

But here's the kicker: very likely, we are not actually moving to Pristina, we are probably moving to Skopje, Macedonia.  Yes, that is in another country - Macedonia borders Kosovo and Skopje is about 90 min drive from Pristina. (It also borders Greece. Delightful beaches, here we come.  Kolodkins!  We are not that far away anymore!)

 The dearth of good Middle and High Schools in Pristina  and the tough choice between two excellent ones in Skopje is like a siren song.  Doug would live and work in Pristina and come home on the weekends and maybe once or twice during the week.  Not an ideal solution but so many other Expats live that way once their kids grow past the elementary school stage.  There was the discussion whether we (i.e. the kids and I) stay in Germany but it's just too far away, and we believe the kids will be better served by a private school system with smaller classes and individual attenttion. In English.

What else is there to say? Lots of work ahead. Sorting - what comes, what stays? The vague plan is to empty the house to a degree where we could rent it out to tourists inbetween our stays in the summer and in the winter. If I can manage that is another question.  Because Doug won't be here, Doug starts work on June 3rd in Pristina. Yup, three weeks away.  We get 30 days notice.  That's what it means to be a contractor. 

It's going to be crazy, as always.  I did not believe in a longterm posting anymore, so our house is not exactly in moving condition.  We also get a tiny move, so we need to be very selective about what comes and what stays.  (Now I'm asking myself why I'm sitting here instead of frantically cleaning up...)

Both Kosovo and Macedonia are, by all accounts, very beautiful countries.   We love hiking and being out and about, so the images of Lake Ohrid, the gorgeous mountains, Roman and Greek ruins, Orthodox monasteries, bountiful markets with fresh fruit and vegetables, fill my heart with song.  We can have some fun there. It occurs to me we should have a guest room.  

{All images from www.exploringmacedonia.com}

I need a new lens, of course. And a tripod.  And... and... and...

And I need my kids to be happy.  Doug, after being initially completely weirded out, now seems happy and upbeat about being gainfully employed again.  

It all comes at a price, of course.  Doesn't it always? Our big US vacation in the summer has to be scrapped.  There just isn't enough time - the kids have all of three weeks of summer vacation, and the move has to be sent out.  We'll postpone it to the fall, most likely.  More making up to the kids lies ahead.  But, again.  It's all relative.  The most important thing is this:

We're ready for a new, exciting adventure!

PS: The kids?  The kids were over the moon.  Both Doug and I are a little flabberghasted about that. They think it's cool we're going to drive for two days, they think it's the BEST that they might be going to another QSI school, they looked at the gorgeous images on the internet and can't wait.  I'm sure that there will be problems galore ahead but I'm taking all the positive reactions that I can for now.

Music in the air

A "Verein" is something inherently German, I think.  It's a club - but much more than that.  Every German is a member of some kind of Verein and since the Vereine do a lot of kids and youth work, pretty much every child grows up a member of one. 

In our town, there is a Sportverein (sports club), a Musikverein (music club), and I'm sure there are various others that support the local museums, there's one for the devlopment of the school, there is the "Rhönclub" which is unique in not carrying the word "Verein" in its name.  All over Germany there are hiking clubs, stamp collecting clubs, chess clubs, beard-wearing men's clubs, tennis clubs, reading clubs, sports shooter's clubs, swimming clubs, cooking clubs... anything you can think of will have a Verein.  There is always a written charter, and there are bylaws, and membership fees.  You pay your (often very nominal) fee, become a member, and get to hang out with like-minded people who are interesting in raising hydrangeas or rabbits. 

 You are not a proper German, really, without being a member of some kind of Verein - and that is especially true in the countryside, and doubly so if you have kids.  Vereine allow you access to affordable leisure activities and if you have kids, especially if you have plenty of them, the "affordable" part is invaluable.  Also, the Vereine act locally, so it cuts down on your needs to chauffeur the kids around all day.  There is enough of that anyway, so any kind of local activity my kids can walk to is highly appreciated.

The Musikverein had a kind of open house yesterday.  The youth wind orchestra performed a few short pieces, and then interested kids were invited to try out the instruments on display.  I had to think of my slightly germophobic sister-in-law as wind instruments were shared freely among the kids, with scarlet fever running rampant in town at the moment.  Ah, what is life without a bit of risk, eh?

Both Jacob and David were immediately drawn to an instrument.  

Jacob couldn't wait to get his hands on the saxophone and I have to say, not only did it look good on him (you know that will be a thing in just a few years), he also managed to get a mean little tune going, to the amazement of the owner of the sax and the conductress.  There was absolutely no question in his mind that he wants to learn to play the saxophone, and nothing else.  

David chose the French Horn.  Why?  I asked myself, and him, the same question.  "It's cool!" he said. I think as a smallish boy, he is drawn to the sheer size of it.  I'm afraid that with the French Horn, we'll have to travel for music lessons but as it is rated a "rare instrument" (meaning, not too many people actually play it), we can get subsidies from both the county and the Bavarian Musicverein for purchasing an instrument.  He certainly loved it and didn't put it down until he wanted to try out the drums. 

That one I vetoed.  We have neither the space nor the sound proofing for a percussion set.  Or the nerves.  I am quite all right with the shrieking of the violin and the soon booming sounds of a saxophone.  Not the drums, thank you.  So he stuck with the French Horn.  

So I signed all kids up for the music school via our local Musikverein - that gives you a 5% discount and what with the fees for the music school being stiff, and the yearly fee for a family in the Musikverein at 15 Euros, that was a non-brainer.  Still, it adds up with four kids.  You get 45 minutes of music instruction a week for four kids for about $1500.  Hm.  Nobody said kids would be cheap. 

I also signed Leah up for piano lessons.  They all won't begin with their music lessons until the new school year in September and then she'll be five.  She's already playing little tunes on the piano with a nice five-finger technique, and can reproduce tunes she hears.  I think she'll be fine.

I really want the other two boys to play piano as well but I am not forcing anybody.  And secretly, I'm thinking that piano, violin, sax and French Horn could make a funky little jazz band one day.  That would be the day we found our own Jazzverein Fladungen, eh?

Boys, girl, stick

Doug and I used to live in Dupont Circle, in Washington, DC.  We loved it there.  You can walk for hours and always see new things.  There are trees and little parks and a big park close by, lots of really great ethnic food, funky coffee houses, bookstores, there is a farmer's market on Saturdays (or was it on Sundays?), three or so movie theaters in close vicinity, the metro station around the corner, museums, stores, supermarkets, a Whole Foods...

Why did we leave again?

Right, we lived in a tiny studio apartment, expected our first child, and Doug got offered this strange job in Belgrade in barely-post-war Serbia.

Fast forward 12 years and we live in Fladungen.  You can walk for hours and see new things.  There are trees but no parks. No ethnic food besides the pizza restaurant one town over. No funky coffee houses or any coffee houses, really, no bookstores, no market, the next movie theater is a half hour drive away.  The next metro station is in, um, Frankfurt. There are two museums, though, one or two remaining stores, a supermarket, definitely no Whole Foods...  We grow our own food, have six or so apple trees, three plum trees, one pear tree, blackberry bushes, a walnut tree... 

It's definitely different.

Doug and I miss the big city life.  We enjoyed our one month stay in Bethesda last year so very much - a bookstore right around the corner! Funky food! Cute coffeehouses! Cupcake bakeries! The metro station...

You get the gist.

We went to museums a lot, to the bookstore, we ate cupcakes and fries from Five Guys, to the UU church on River Road, went to more musums, spent afternoons at the library, scouted out about every playground in town.  We spent our weekends in interesting city ways.  I have a good friend who lives in DC with her husband and three kids.  She also has a daily photo project going on.  Every weekend, and many weekdays, they go to museums, art exhibitions, the aquarium, the zoo, funky restaurants... I miss this so very much.

So, how do we spend our weekends, here in the quiet countryside?

Here's how:  We go for walks.  Or to the pool but Alan has an ear infection at the moment and cannot go to the pool right now.  So, walks.  Here's what they look like.

We leave the house.  The pent-up energy makes the boys wrestle instantly, a mere steps from home, on the empty lot next door.

Next:  The museum train station - climb, jump, hop.

Climb the dirt hill:

Chase a tractor, back and forth, and back, and forth:

Cross the bridge over troubled waters:

Whittle some random branches:

Jump over random ditches:

Build bridges over ditches:

Gather wood for a better bridge:

Voila!  Better bridge!

Find feathers and be goofy:

Repeat.

Balance on logs:

See the very first signs of spring:

Cross another bridge and spit into the water:

Until... until they are really, really tired.

The end.

Food guilt

Laura from 11D is, I believe, the blogger I've been following for the longest time now.  Pretty much from the beginning, I think, back in 2003 or 2004.  We lived in Belgrade (or Bucharest?), and she lived in NYC in a tiny apartment some insane number of flights up (six? something like that?) with two little kids.

She's funny, smart, and beautiful.  I have somewhat of a girl crush on her.  Her blog has a sizeable group of commenters who are diverse and interesting enough to make the comments always worth reading -- not something you can say about just any blog.  Or most blogs.  Her readers add a certain something, they are not shy to criticize her but always in a respectful, almost lovingly-teasing way.  It's a fun group.  (And I love my readers, too.  If I still have any.)  

Laura posts very regularly (yes, I can hint at myself, you can stop now) and only the discussions about school vouchers are not that interesting to me, if only because as a European, I simply cannot wrap my head around those.  I don't always agree with her but I always find her worth reading.  For, gulp, nine years. Ten, maybe?  A long time in the blogosphere.

Anyway, one recent post on her blog was about food and about how she feeds her family.  I read it and I immediately felt guilty.  I mean, we're doing everything wrong!

1. We don't use garlic at all - I'm allergic to it. I go around reading cook books and watching cooking shows, always thinking to myself that probably, my food is crap because we never use garlic. But it makes me sick and it smells horrible to me.  So I use lots of onions and shallots.  I tell myself that my kids make up for the lack of garlic by not drinking sodas.

2. We use butter!  We use quite a bit of butter.  I bake, I fry omelettes in butter, I add a dab of butter to soups for my skinny 9-year-old who could need some few more pounds on his ribs.  My gurus are Ina Garten and Julia Child - everything is better with butter.  We also use sunflower oil (high quality), cold-pressed local rapeseed oil, and olive oil.   It's hard to get good olive oil here, and ever since I brought back some oil from a little Palestinian fair trade cooperative, I find I don't like the cheap stuff anymore.  Not that it was expensive.  It was just so good, and it is not available in Germany. Sigh.

3. We do eat meals where carbs are the main player.  We eat Spagetti Alfredo a lot - it fast and cheap.  I have a few 1-Dollar-meals that are dirty cheap but yummy.  I usually add some raw veggies like carrots (which we basically always offer at meals, together with red pepper slices and cucumber sticks).  But yes, it's not always a vegetable palooza. 

4. I do not make separate dishes for us and the kids.  Jenny Rosenstrach calls them "deconstructed dinners" and that's what I do.  I offer many things seperately.  

5. I don't always offer a salad.  

6. We almost never eat dessert.  More often than not, dessert is fruit.  Sunday lunches at my Mom's include dessert and that's always very special.  I like it that way.

7. We eat lots of bread.  Germany is the home of the bread.  We eat quite a variety, and hardly ever white bread.  I still haven't tried Jim Lahey's No Knead Bread but it's on my list.  Also, his pizza crust.

8. We do eat cheese.  Oh, cheese is so good.  I can't live without cheese.

So, is our diet really bad, I asked myself in a panic.  As a German, I do guilt very easily.  My poor kids! They will die of food-related disease because I'M A BAD MOM!

Time for a reality check.

1. We eats lots of fruit - mostly apples, mostly local, when in season homegrown - and lots of raw vegetables.  Those I try to buy organic but they aren't always available.   Vegetables inclucde carrots, cucumbers, red peppers, and kohlrabi - those are my kids' favorites.   When in season, we have lots of radishes growing in the garden, and fresh spinach.   Weirdly enough, my kids also love eating frozen corn and frozen peas.  Judge me not. That runs firmly on my husband's side.

2. I love vegetables and often cook an additional vegetable dish for Doug and myself, since the kids perfer their raw stuff most of the times.  Everybody has to try at least one bite during the meal, though.

3. We try to avoid snacking too much.  (A la "French Kids Eat Everything" - I adore that book.)  We introduced a "gouter" at 4 pm (when Leah comes home hungry and grumpy) and that may be a pastry, or crudités, or some special fruit, or a jogurt.  (And by jogurt I don't mean low-fat yucky industrial stuff but wholesome German jogurt.  High fat, some sugar but not too much, nothing artificial.  Aaaaah.) Special days deserve a Nutella croissant.

4. We always eat dinner together.  Always.  Sometimes, it's a traditional German dinner with bread, sausage, cheese, and pickles.  Sometimes, it's three courses. 

5. My meat dishes are more involved.  We eat roast chicken.  Meatballs. Schnitzel. Goulash.  

So is our diet inferior to Laura's?  Because of the garlic and the olive oil?  Not sure.  I am trying to take away from this that diets are varied.  Ethnic food exists for a reason and it would be sad if we all only ate Greek food, no? (Please say yes!)  We are making an effort to feed our kids home-made meals, no processed crap, we don't drink sodas.  My basement is full of jeweled jars with jams, pickles, juices.  We grow tomatoes, lettuce, radishes, chard, potatoes, carrots and lots of fruits and walnuts in our backyard.

My kids are picky.  Between the four of them, there are maybe five things they all like.  (Pasta, pasta, pasta, pasta, and pasta.  I'm only partially kidding.)  We are trying to introduce new foods, one by one. It's a tedious process.  It's also a leftover from years of living in countries with limited access to fresh vegetables, especially in the winter.  I love eating a wide variety of foods and sometimes, I get very frustrated with my picky eaters.

I found that renaming things helps, even though my kids are not stupid.  I got them to eat fish (many years ago) by calling it "shark". It's not fish, it's SHARK! Man-eating SHARK!  Eat that SHARK before it eats YOU! Lots of giggles, and we still eat shark today, even though the kids did catch on eventually. Red lentil patties are called Super Hero Patties.   It works, amazingly.   A visit to the beekeeper in Ostheim convinced them to use honey in their teas instead of sugar.  The list goes on.

I think we are doing okay.

Could it be better?  Sure.  Is it good enough? Nope.  But we're getting there.  I hope.

Day 32 - Lanterns

St. Martin's Day is really on the 11th of November.  Yes, on the day that has nothing else going on. 

This year, the parade was on the 9th - Sunday isn't the greatest of days for this and when you shift, why not shift it to Friday?  Traditionally, the Vorschulkinder (who would be the Kindergarteners in the US) conduct the play of St. Martin (before he was a saint) sharing his cape with the poor beggar in the snow.   The little ones paraded around, and Leah's age group did a song and a dance. 

Leah made her lantern in preschool, Jacob crafted his with me, and he helped me make the ones for the bigger boys who came home later from school.  The plan was really to have each kid make his own lantern but somehow, time ran away and I ended up doing most of the work.

We watched Leah dance which was very cute.  The play was great and my cousin's boy was a fabulous St. Martin.  The lantern parade was traditional with Blasmusik and the firemen guarding the kids from traffic,  the Bratwurst was yummy, the Glühwein appropriate in the cold, and we all came home happy.

Day 31 - Tympanogram

The word of the day - tympanogram:

Tympanometry is an examination used to test the condition of the middle ear^[1] and mobility of the eardrum (tympanic membrane) and the conduction bones by creating variations of air pressure in the ear canal.  {Source: Wikipedia}

Much to the ENT's and my surprise, Leah's hearing is perfect.  However, her tympanogram showed flat lines at all frequencies.  We're trying to determine why that could be the case.  The current assumption is that her Eustachian tubes are blocked.  There are more sinister reasons but we are ignoring them for now.  She may have to have surgery which is bad news for people without health insurance.  If it comes to that, because I have no shame, I may just put up a tip jar on my site.  Watch this space.

For the moment, we're trying to open up her Eustachian tubes with a warming light treatment.  If she's just stuffed, this should do the trick.  Again, watch this space.

It was a crazy, long, run-around day.  I had no downtime at all and was still sleep-deprived and crazy tired.  That's why this post goes up today.  Without a photo.  Sorry about that.

I had to return Alan's atlas that came damaged.  The school had ordered an atlas per child at the price of 28 Euros ($35).  Alan's had clearly been incorrectly cut at the printing company, resulting in triangle-shapges bits that stuck out but were folded into the pages, and the corresponding triangle-shaped holes in the pages.  I wanted to have it exchanged.  The teacher refused, said it was just minor (the missing bits would eventually cause the pages to rip, though he didn't seem to be minding that, grumble).  He cut off the dangling bits and sent Alan back to his seat.  I cut the whole charade short by going directly to the local bookstore that had handled the order. 

Now, ever since I had the idea to have my own business, I've been paying a lot more attention to customer service.  The bookstore owner eventually agreed to exchanged the atlas but he was less than gracious about it.  He moped, argued, and finally consented but you know, your customer should not leave your shop thinking to herself, "Now, I don't think I'll ever buy another item at this shop."  The new atlas should be there within two days.  The bookstore is 20 minutes from our house.  When I asked him to call me when the atlas comes in, he looked at me, "You want me to call you?"  Why, yes.  I'd rather have you call me instead of me driving 40 minutes round-trip only to find out that the delivery was delayed, or something.  Is that really too much to ask?

Then I went to buy some lantern materials and the lady in the shop was less than enthused about having to show me where the supplies were stored.  Really?  I want to buy something from you and you act as if you're doing me a favor?  Isn't this slightly backwards?

We returned the library books and got new ones.  The older boys had Wing-Tsun.  Leah had her first warming light treatment. 

And so to bed.

Day 30 - Halfway

Day 30 of 61.  Since 61 is an odd number, we decided today is halfway. Whohoo!  It's all downhill from here.  Unless... let's not think about that.  I'm sure Doug will be home for Christmas.  We are planning to drive all the way to Frankfurt, all of us, to pick him up in December.  We got the winter tires, the anti-freeze, we're ready!  Well, one little thing is wrong with the car:  the radio died.  That's very unfortunate because I rather like music in the car and so do the children.  Also, traffic warnings for the Autobahn.  Alas, car radios are expensive.  Bottom of the repair/replacement list.  Maybe we'll just start singing instead.

But, back to today.  The day after the day before, as Jon Stewart called it.  This is how and when I started the day:  I woke up at 3:45 am because a little boy came to my room, complaining of bad dreams and asking after the election.  He snuggled into the covers and was out within seconds.  Me, not so much.  I was awake, so I thought I could just as well check on the race.  I was a bit confused - Florida wasn't called, it seemed Romney had overwhelming numbers.  I checked with my husband who told me all would be okay and I should go back to sleep. 

I tried.  Really, I did.  I gave up when the clock tower rang 5 am.  I got up, made a huge pot of coffee, built a fire, and turned on CNN.  Much better.

State after state rolled in. The numbers turned.  The numbers started looking good.  When they called Ohio, I cried.  Then they called the race and I cried some more.  It was very, very nice.  I went to wake up the kids.  No, no, it was their usual wake-up time.  I'm not cruel.

Jacob, eyes still closed: "Who won the election?"
"Obama did.  Congratulations, little boy, to your new old President."
Big smile, eyes still closed.  "I knew it."

What can you say to that? He's his father's son.

The kids were excited and happy and got up much easier than on normal days.  I shot a memory picture:

Brainwash achieved.

Alan dawdled and dawdled because he wanted to watch the acceptance speech but he was long gone to school when Obama finally took the stage in Chicago.  He'll be watching one of the many, many reruns on TV tonight, I suppose.

And life goes on. 

David passed his bike test:

He was very pleased.  He will also play Santa Claus in the Christmas play.  He had to audition for it and he made the cut. I had no idea, none, that he was even remotely interested in acting.  Shades of his cousin Lily here...  Those two are creepily alike in some ways.

Jacob had a playdate which made him very happy.

Leah and Jacob and I baked Martinsgänse for the lantern parade on Friday. (St. Martin's, remember? It's really on the 11th but that's a Sunday, so we're doing it two days early on Friday.) Don't worry, those are not real geese.  They are goose cookies, and they get distributed among the kids after the lantern parade.  It's a tradition to bake them together a few days prior to the event but I had no time (darn that missing parent) and so I made my batch today.

Last not least, my aunt came over with some congratulatory champagne.  We looked at pictures of my new cousin-once-removed and chatted.  I'm nicely woozy now.  And so to bed.

Day 29 - Election Day

Really, Dixville Notch?  Tied?  That's the best you could do?  I'm kind of disappointed in you.  I had to scratch you off my list of potential places to live. 

Or wait.  Heh.  We could move there and actually totally skew the next election!  Naw.  Maybe better move to Virginia.  Or Florida.

CNN Europe has the hardest time entertaining their viewers since most of the polling stations in the US aren't open, yet it is bright daylight in Europe and everybody wants results.  So they aired a segment called "How the world would vote".  They started in Germany and showed two Germans, both speaking rather good English.  The young man spoke for Obama, the young woman spoke for Romney.  That concluded the coverage.  Which confused me a bit - after all, over 80% of Germans would vote for Obama (all the polls agree on that) and yet we get the impresson Germany is as divided on the subject as the US.  I'm getting very, very jaded about the election coverage.

Anyway. On this side of the Atlantic, I had to get more mundane stuff done.  Like, the laundry.  Also, having the winter tires put onto the car. 

We get our tires changed at a little place in Sondheim.  I had a nice chat with the owner's wife while the son changed our tires.  I'm always glad to see him.  Two years ago, he had his pancreas shut down on him and he spent most of the following year in intensive care, his life hanging on a thread. His survival is nothing short of miraculous.   

Our winter tires are still okay for one more winter. The summer tires, not so much.  They will have to be retired (hah! pun!) and replaced with new ones.  Better start saving money - they will be 100 Euros a pop.  Ugh.

I also had a little sit-down picnic breakfast.   Not in the picture is my iPad with the book I'm currently reading - "Cetaganda" by Lois McMaster Bujold.  Then it started to rain, and I went inside and chatted (see above - that's a bit circular, isn't it.)  Yes, that's chocolate cake.  I needed that today.  I'm so nervous, I can't tell you.  Jittery.  Ugh.

Then I went home and made banana bread because that's how I roll when I am jittery.

In the afternoon, I picked Alan up from his school.  He goes to Martin-Pollich-Gymnasium in Mellrichstadt - which is, incidentally, the high school I graduated from.

It looks much, much nicer than back in my days.  They added that glass front, and a cafeteria which we didn't have.  Alan loves it there.  The music program is fantastic and wins national prizes galore. The current principal is a main driving force, he's a real win and a great person.  Still, I never thought one of my kids would ever go to this school.  I am still not sure how I feel about that.

Any results yet? It's 7:30 pm, 1:30 pm EST.  Really, it should be decided by now, no?

Biting finger nails.

We are watching CNN.  There is no other full-time news program here.  Leah demanded a "My Little Pony" coloring page.  Then Jacob wanted a Barack Obama coloring page.  I had no idea but there are simply shattering amounts of them on the internet.  He wants me to scan it and send it to the President.  I suppose I can do this, even though we never got a single answer to any email my kids ever sent to the President.  (Hint, Mr. President, hint!)

My husband demanded I go to bed early and then get up early.  Hm. Mayyyyyybe.

 

Day 28 - Christmas shopping

I was presented with three Christmas wish lists over the past weeks.

Jacob's wish list is long and meticulously copied from the Lego website - it's all about Lego Cars.  Nothing but Lego Cars.  I'm not sure which one is the most longed for but I figured a set that includes most of the car figures should be best, no?

David's wish list is very, very long.  For a boy who detests the mechanics of writing as much as he does, it's an astonishing feat to write so much.  Talk about the proper motivation, eh?  After taking one look at the endless list of demands wishes, I asked him to prioritize.  He put stars on his most coveted items which are all big and expensive.  I'm a bit lost as to what I should actually buy off this list.  I will have to consult again and have him pare his list down to five items which I can then spread around between the relatives and us.

Alan's wish list is full of misspellings and only lists a very sensible few items he really wants.  He might just be the one to get everything he wrote on his list, if I outsource a few items.

Leah didn't write a list - yet.  But she pointed out that she does not, in fact, have any Legos which belong only to her, and she now wants something, anything of the Friends line.  Pink Legos?  That's a new thing in our house. 

So, if you add it up, we'll have another 10 or so kilograms of Legos incoming.  That's scary.  I don't really know where to put that stuff anymore.  I love how Legos work in our house - the kids build the sets according to the instructions, play with the sets for a while, dismantle them and rebuild the sets as something new.  There is lots of creative play.  Lots of training spatial intelligence. Lots of cooperation (and some fighting).  Nothing electronic, it all happens in their brains and with their hands.

Still.  We have maybe 100 kg of Legos spread around the house.  I may or may not have sucked up a few kilos of Legos with the vaccum cleaner over the years.  They are everywhere.  They hurt like hell when you step on them at night (which is why I always wear slippers when I go to the bathroom at night).  They are in the couch cracks, under the carpets, in the shelves, in shoes, in pants pockets, in the washing machine.

Anyway.

After everybody came home and had done their homework, we went to the school yard to practise for David's bike test on Wednesday.  It did not rain.  In fact, for about five minutes, we had blue skies!  Here's the proof:

David's got a little trouble with the left turn, so I drew a street on the, um, street, complete with a left turn.  See?

We practised.

Alan did not want to come but Jacob joined us.

Even David ended up having some fun.

Then I went to get Leah from Preschool and she was very, very upset.  She'd wanted a playdate with her friend but the friend's mom didn't have time.  Leah did not take this well and cried all the way up the hill to the schoolyard. 

Not even the chestnuts could distract her.  Much.

Then we went home, feed cookies to unhappy and happy kids, and watched the latest episode of Mythbusters.  Just a few more hours to bedtime.  Not that I'm counting, or something.

(Oh, last not least: Alan got a 2 -- which is a B -- for his poem recital.)

Day 27 - The day the sky came falling down

What a glum, dreary day.

Do you know when you go to the mountains - real mountains, like the Alps - and you drive way up to a mountain pass, and then you stay overnight in a little hotel that clings to the side of what you, as a flatlander, might just call a vertical cliff? And you wake up in the morning, and not only is there another mountain wall right smack in your face as you look out the window, but the clouds are all around you, as well? Drifting so low that you think you could touch them, weaving through the tops of the trees?  That's what it was like today, and we're not in the mountains.  Imagine how low the clouds must have hung for that.  It was like the sky was falling down in slow-motion.

So we spent the day inside, again. The rain - we call it, raining like yarn, because it's straight down, like, well, yarn.  We had a fabulous venison lunch at my Mom's, and tried a new apple cake she made - "Lecker, lecker, Hosenschmecker", is what Leah said. I agree.  It was very, very good.  We ate the first Christmas cookies.  Also yummy-delicious.  I finished a hat for Leah.  It's the kind of weather where you need more than one hat.  We practiced they're/their/there for Alan's English test on Tuesday.  I'm getting heartily tired of "Jingle Bells" which Alan is practicing for Christmas Eve. Every. single. day.

I had to throw the mug out.  After I scraped off the gunk, it turned out the mug had, indeed, cracked and was leaking.  Sigh.  It's just stuff.  But it was stuff with memories. 

Anyway.