Goodbye, Munich!

Edie and I depart in about 13 hours, but I'll be up long before then. Last time I flew internationally with her, she ended up sounding like Janis Joplin for days afterward on account of all of the shrieking. Little dear just did not want to sleep in a strange place. I figure it's got to be downhill from there. I may not be able to go to the bathroom for the entire flight, but, then again, I am bringing a lot of extra diapers. We are armed with a soft-soft, pictured here, which is E's security blanket. [We have 3 of them now. And she loves them so dearly that if she catches one out on the clothes line she will stand at the window, lean her head against the glass, and occasionally shed a tear moaning "soft-soooooffffft."] The dogs and the husband stay behind to deal with movers. And we bid this city and country a hectic farewell. Have not had a chance to process everything, but that's the great thing about a kid. No time to view your life as some all important narrative, because you've got to tickle that baby, sing Itsy Bitsy Spider, and then give 10 or so butterfly kisses. I'm sure I'll make time to get into my own head soon, anyhow. Until then, love to all, whether here in Deutschland, the US, or anywhere you find yourself. Mettha, hugs and kisses from Rach & E.

When did she turn into a KID?

The past 20 months in Germany have flown, especially the latter 18 of those, since Miss Edie graced the world. Lately I've been turning around and wondering, when did I get a kid? I've never been shy to admit that I was not too handy when she was tiny. I found it confusing and stressful. Wonderful at times, sure, but Edie could've done a good bit better than having me as a mom during those first months. Though it took awhile, we're hitting our stride, I think.

Now I've got this real live kid around, who takes a grocery bag, loads it up with her toys, and drags it behind her, leaving the room saying "buh-bye mamma." One who in the middle of breakfast, grabs my hand and puts it on her head so I will give her a mid-morning scalp massage. A kid that tattles on her dad with great relish when I asked her how she hurt her knee ("dada! booboo! outside!"). And who laughs hard at my jokes, but laughs hysterically at her own. I fall into bed most nights feeling like I've run a marathon (and I have actually run one of these), but always with a smile.

Here she is making me laugh or gasp in the past few days. Sometimes both at once.

At a playground with some friends, I looked up to see a kid sitting on the slide, waiting to go down. It took me about 10 seconds to realize that was my daughter, who had gone up the stairs, across the shaky bridge, and over the platform to the slide all on her own. Watching her do it again, cautious but determined to make it to the slide, no matter how scary that bridge was, about did me in.


Here she is, so engrossed in her Peek a Boo Farm app that she barely had time to look up when her dad joined us on the train. She gave him a shooting side eye and went straight back to tapping that barn door. "iPhone" wasn't among her first words for nothing.

This is what happens when you give a toddler some crayons and a paper. And then make the rash decision to blink. Body art is "in", right?

Let the Preparations Begin: Toddler Travel Bag o' Wonder

There is a website here that is alternately a vast resource and a vast abyss. It is like a glorified craigslist but only for English speaking expats in Germany. This narrow subset of humanity is populated with people who know the trials and tribulations of being a foreigner in the Fatherland who are happy to help those who come after them. It is also full of many rather eccentric folk. Eccentric, opinionated, computer-screen loving folk. Through its forums, I have bought and sold goods, found dog-sitters and German lessons, and found answers to just about any "where can I find..." or "how do you ..." questions I have been struck with while in Munich.

Lately, I decided to ask a question out loud and get some feedback on a personal query. Namely, has anyone ever had trouble traveling alone and internationally with a child who did not share his or her last name. You see, Edie and I don't have the same last name. And while the merits of this could be discussed, what shouldn't get lost is the real take home of that sentence: I AM TRAVELING ALONE WITH EDIE. INTERNATIONALLY. AND DID I MENTION ALONE?

While I was looking for some tips from those who'd done it, I got along the way much unsolicited advice. For example, someone mentioned to me that children require passports. Since I am neither a chimpanzee or someone born and raised within the bounds of an old-timey living history reenactment society, I was aware of this. I was also encouraged to bring food my daughter liked to eat. And toys. Well, there goes the 5 gallon bucket of yellow mustard and the bag of tacks!

I have actually done a lot of thinking on the subject of how one survives a trip, comprised of two flights, two airports, 4 suitcases, 2 carry-ons, a car seat and a stroller, all with a child who can run and scream but, sadly, cannot reason nor exercise impulse control. She also cannot sleep away from home. Edie steels herself against rest when she is outside of our house. The only time since she was a few weeks old that I've ever been surprised to see her asleep was when she had a fever of 102 and she was getting walked in her stroller. She woke up after 30 seconds that time. So, planning for around a half hour of uncontrollable coma sleep, an hour of eating, and 10 minutes of TV watching, what's a mom to do with the other twelve + hours?

Well, the real answer is: who knows? It shall pass. And I shall be tired. But, while I wait to actually get wise enough to believe that, how about I excessively over plan for the trip? Done and done.

I spent the last week with my now sold sewing machine making light-weight, and (oh how I hope) engaging toys. After picking the brains of worldly mommas as well as the interwebs, I got lots of ideas. Here are some of Edie's plane time surprises:

Pockets. Made this one up. It's just some pockets with matching little stuffed shapes. Edie loves tucking little treasures into bags, sofas, and some mystery portal that I have not yet found but certainly holds a lid to one of my tins and her right galosh. So I am hoping we can make some different games with this one.

A crayon roll. Nothing new here, but it's a cute way to carry crayons. And it makes the getting out and putting away a little more interesting.

Felt scene. I sewed down a pond and road. The rest is freewheeling.

Mr. Potato-head inspired Felt Game - Just a flesh-y colored circle. The other bits are just cut out and they can be moved to make a happy looking orange haired guy, or a pitiful cyclops who was never meant to be. Alternate features stuffed in the pouch.

The payload, all tucked away.

These toys are very light, which is vital during a trip that involves so very much lugging, cramming, packing and unpacking. As a friend pointed out to me, at a minimum, this borderline bananas amount of effort may ensure that Edie sleeps through most of the flight. Oh, were it only so....

Dutchess of Poodles

The dogs are starting to adjust to their fearless leader. And though we maintain a zero tolerance policy for dogs fighting back, I really do feel for them. From the moment she wakes up, Edie is all about the dogs. I have caught her patty-caking Sugar's face, and plonking plastic nesting cups, one after the other, atop Billy's head, laughing hysterically while saying "hat!!".

But the best aspect of Edie's reign of canine terror has to be her marching with determination at the dogs, right arm raised just above shoulder height and index finger jutting out of her clenched fist, yelling "BOW!" She didn't come up with this on her own. Billy actually can bow. Awhile back, pre-baby and pre-JD + PhD - shall we say The Era of Timeonourhands - I taught Billy to bow by giving him a treat and saying the command whenever he slid his front paws out and shined that butt to the sky in order to stretch out from a long afternoon of napping. Food motivated fatty that he is, he learned it quickly. An exhaustive list of his other tricks includes high fives, rolling over, and sitting. He will also run through a tunnel if you ask, and he performs a vigorous erotic dance with his pillow, but I can't take credit for these tricks. They are all Billy. Back to the point, though, Edie has really taken to this "bow" command.

So much does the little lady enjoy telling her dogs to bow (optimistic toddler does try to get Sugar to bow too, even though the tiny dog's brain may actually be a dried apricot thus rendering her incapable of such complex tasks) that she also commands others to bow. Strangers on the subway. Friends over for a visit. And I've oft caught her warming up her vocal cords by herself in her bed upon waking up from a nap yelling out "Bow!!" "High Five!" "BoooooW!!!" to an imaginary, and obedient, friend.

We are finding Germans difficult to train in this regard, but hopefully the gentile Southerners of Nashville will be a bit more agreeable to Her Highness's wishes. Until then, Edie will have to focus on getting her poodle minions in line.

Getting down to business

Edie loves to help her Dad empty the dishwasher. If he tries to open it without her by his side, you hear "nein nein nein!" and a lot of pitter-pattering as she rushes to get there in time for the unloading. The other day he began the process just as she was in the middle of trying on some hats. So she had to cut her losses and therefore arrived with a bunny-head (she fully put this on herself - strap and all. no babies were intentionally given rabbit ears for the sake of a photo.)

About in the World

Well, Ms. Edie is finally walking like a champ. She waited until she was good and ready; no mad dashes, not too many stumbles. Our little one was 15 or 16 months when she really got going, so I never had the "I can't believe she's walking!" experience. It was more like "Hallelujah, I can go back out in public without the baby dragging her palms through filth." For a couple months there, we existed in some pretty rough limbo where her energy level demanded freedom but social norms demanded that I keep my child from worming about at ankle level in cafes and grocery stores. Some days Edie won, others society. I am pretty certain that I never won, and I'm sure that the knees of her pants didn't either.

But we're up and running now! One of the first time I let her loose in a non-playground / park environment was on a shopping trip to pick up some work shirts for her dad. I thought she'd run amok but not so much. Edie was overwhelmed to say the least and mostly clung to me, but her apprehension didn't last long. Since then, she's torn through aisles, dribbling apple pulp on tiled floors (and *maybe* a tiny bit of merchandise), ransacking racks of bibs and toys, and goosing the occasional stranger - (it's unfortunate that baby-tickling height is butt-level on most adults). Drunken monkey that any toddler is and Edie being no exception, she doesn't do straight lines so well and has never, ever looked to see where her feet are about to land.

I've had less time to blog or breathe of late, but we're all happily bipedal in Munich! Except the dogs, that is. They are still lazing about on all fours.