E's Buddies

Like many other children, Edie loves other kids. Any one yet to hit puberty is of great interest. Of course, as other parents know, a baby's infectious enthusiasm for her peers is interchangeable with a spastic slap-fest. Edie is also very interested in having the parts of a face labeled aloud for her, so in between not-so-gently slapping her friends on the backs or heads, she jabs at their eyes, noses and mouths, asking "Whas dis?" With her dearest pals, Edie shares kisses and hugs. Kisses are square on the mouth, and there is slobber involved. E doesn't want any ambiguity: a kiss means something. She may also sneak in a kiss of a foot or sock, which are her favorite appendage and accessory, respectively.

Older kids are also of great interest to her, and most older kids are interested in babies as well. We don't know any ex pat older kids, though, so it's mostly the locals that we encounter. And cute as she is, I scare off most of these whipper snappers. My neighborhood is full of 6 to 10 year olds, but most of them write me off as a space alien or some equivalent. Only one is brave enough to talk to me - and thus deal with my broken German and misunderstandings - and one other one tries to scare me by shouting loudly at me as he whizzes by on his scooter. I guess he wants to make sure that I Come In Peace. And I do. Today, on the subway, was a particularly sad moment for Edie's social life. A 3 or 4 year old girl sat on her mom's lap next to Edie and I. E and the little girl stared at each other and even held hands. Until the girl heard me talk. Her mom explained that the baby and her mommy speak English. This seemed cruel and inexplicable to her. It actually made her cry. Poor dear.

Guess I'd better start working on my southern drawl if I want to fit in during this next go 'round....

[p.s. Don't be scared by the first pic. That baby is not actually an adorable but deadly pirate. She's just dressed up for Faching (i.e. Carnival).]

I love Sundays

As I've mentioned, and sometimes lamented, everything is closed on Sundays in Munich. Everything productive, anyways. There are some cafes, a few restaurants and, of course, beer gardens, all ready to go. But you're not going to get any errands run during the latter half of your weekend. In a few months, I'll be back to the US, and I know it won't take long for the pace of life there to creep back into our lives. No-work-Sundays, even as I fight them on occasion, are really wonderful. When we wake up, there is no pull in any direction. Only a lazy stillness, plans for pancakes or a walk in the park.

Edie still has her errands to run, however, so Will and I aren't able to be as lazy as we might like. This morning Edie and I hung out on the floor, drinking green smoothies (spinach, ginger, pineapple, cantaloupe and banana was the beverage du jour). After she downed half of hers, complete with frothy green 'stache, off to playing with Dad's beers and the dogs' kibble. It's going to be another good Sunday.

Big News....

Well, we weren't going to spill the beans on this for awhile since it's still a ways off, but due to some corporate espionage, the cat is out of the bag. Our little fam is moving again, now back to US soil. Where are we off to this time? And this time for GOOD??

Nashville!
Will has accepted a position as a Professor of Biomedical Engineering at Vanderbilt University (or "Vandy," as it is universally dubbed by those in the know). Move date is late Summer 2011. We are really, really excited. Nashville advice, visitors, and general congratulations all welcome. More on this as it develops!

[photo from http://pamelatuohyjewelry.blogspot.com/2010/09/nashvilledays-7-8.html]

The Haps

Life with a moving baby has kept me busier than I knew I could be, and a year of German residence has kept me light on the stories. Though I'm not much better at the day to day, it has lost its air of oddity. When I hear the doorbell ring, I now know I will not be able to do much besides pantomime with the visitor, so instead of inviting the encounter, I pop my head out the window and, upon seeing a stranger, often decide to find a happy place and just wait out his or her departure. I can understand context-heavy German well enough to chuckle or give a sympathetic headshake, and I'm quick like a bunny to leave the scene once the conversation begins to demand anything further.

So what is up, then?

Will has found a bromance with a Haus Herr friend. Their second cinema date is this weekend. They meet at the Lowenbrau brewery, drink a giant beer, and then go to a pristine original language movie theater to watch a film with no wives nor baby monitors to distract them from their popcorn and enjoyment. Or from their movie theater beer. (They sell beer everywhere.)

I am gearing up for Kinderbasar season. These are basically large, one-day consignment sales of kids clothes. Having a euro-fabulous baby is impossible on a commoner's wages if you want to shop the boutiques. But the bazaars are a fantastic loophole. Last week I tried to go to one with two friends. True to form, my hastiness and ignorance led us to the drop off day for the bazaar instead of the sale day. Though we did find a kids clothes flea market (these are sub-optimal as you are forced to actually talk to the sellers, but there is still some good-getting). I left with a three items, including the pictured summer dress which is, I'm told, a very fancy brand, all for 9 euros. There were a couple spots in them, but I got them all out with the German equivalent to OxiClean. There is nothing like bargain-hunting and crafty stain removal to get my mommy endorphins going!

As for Edie, she wants to walk, but her Grissom-sized skull and wobbly legs just aren't there yet. She lets go of whatever thing she's pulled herself up to standing with to try and balance without hands. Two seconds is our current record. Little missy is also gabbing up a storm. Her vocab includes soft, hot, up, yes, no, dada, Sugar (as in the dog), woof (again with the dogs), sock, and hat. She can sign for "milk" and "all done." And she knows where her feet, toes, belly, head, and tongue are; how to clap, shake, raise her arms, or "please sit back down in your chair" when asked; and also where to find my nose (finding her own is still too subtle a concept, I think). Edie also loves hugs and kisses and gives them spontaneously to her baby friends and to Billy (if she can catch him) and Sugar. Life with a toddler is endlessly challenging, amazing, and often quite hilarious.

The dogs? Well, they are just fine. They are on a reduced-kibble meal plan, as their duties as clean up crew for Edie left them pudgy and infuriatingly picky about what scraps they would eat. This has made Billy more and more desperate for food, causing him to steal from Sugar's bowl and go after leftovers like a Schnoodle possessed. We think he's actually fatter than before the diet. Go fig. Sugar is increasingly wonderful to the baby, submitting to pets and occasional smacks, while grumpy ol' Billy is like a fat Lochness Monster, seen only for fleeting moments during Edie's waking hours. This weekend, they are getting swept away for a day at the lake with our friend and dogsitter Leanne, who loves them so much that she borrows them from time to time just for fun. For the record, if anyone is out there, I would love a day at the lake.

So, to summarize: absentee fathers, new baby duds, conversations with a 13 mo old, and spoiled dogs. And there you have it!

My Eight Legged "Friends"

I try hard not to kill spiders. Well, at a minimum I think hard on it. If one comes near Edie, it does not last long. Otherwise, I far too often ask Will to do the murderous work that I am unwilling to. I'm not proud of this. I had a semi successful capture and release yesterday that reminded me of a story I wrote for my long defunct blog a couple years back. Since I was, back then, too shy to publicize the existence of a personal blog but now have an inflated ego and a lack of inhibition that child birth bestows upon its actors, here it is:

Trying to Be a Better Vegan

I stopped eating animal products about 8 months ago now. I'd already stopped eating meat, and the transition wasn't as hard as I thought, eating wise. It's the being vegan in the non-eating ways that's really hard. Especially with creepy crawlies (*shudder*). Last week I was trying to get some work done in my home office, when in my peripheral vision I spotted a monstrous, hairy, and (I'm 90% sure of this one) angry spider. I've never relished killing spiders, but mostly because the whole thing is a haze of adrenaline, involuntary yelps, and fighting back tears as I contemplate cleaning up the carnage. But now, I look at this ferocious eight-legged would-be killer, and I think, "Hey there, my arachnid brother, let's not get confrontational. Let's try to do this Ghandi-style." So I grab an empty glass and a piece of paper, and I get Leggy McHorrible trapped in a dome so that I can scuttle him out the door. I approach the front door quickly, fumbling to unlock it as I hold the high-tech spider containment system in my other hand. As soon as I step onto the porch, my heart begins to race as I realize that there's been a security breach; it is GONE. Oh wait, not gone, IT'S CRAWLING ON MY ARM! I had not anticipated that the spider was engaging in psychological warfare by pretending to cooperate. This naivete will be the death of me. And so fight or flight kicks in, and today, like many days, I choose flight. I fling my arm about, causing the glass to be hurled on to the cement porch, and all the while an unintentional horror movie style shriek flies out of me. So there I stood, panting, surrounding by shattered glass, with my two dogs looking on with dismay and disrespect. On the up side, I do believe that the spider survived. The down side? I'm down a juice glass and up one cunning enemy.

[photo of spider is actual size according to my mind's eye]

Puppy-baby

Dogs and babies are certainly not interchangeable, but with a crawler in the house these days, I find that my fur babies have provided me with some relevant expertise. They both like to eat off the floor more than off of their generously provided meal dishes. Edie's tastes include bits of paper and, curiously, the very food she threw off of the table during breakfast lunch or dinner. Both species enjoy barging in on my yoga routine to attack my face or just sit squarely where I need to be. And neither dog nor child can get enough of shoes. Interestingly, though, only my baby trots into see me, dragging footwear in with her teeth.

Communicating about Elimination

Having crossed off most hip parenting maneuvers - some victorious, some not so much - pretty early on in E's life, it stands to reason that we would at least consider Elimination Communication somewhere down the line. Elimination Communication, or "EC," is a diaper alternative. In essence, you figure out when your baby needs to potty, and you stick 'em on said pot when that time arrives. I know it sounds bonkers, and maybe it is, but it's not some quirky, show-off move in many parts of the world. It's just how it's done. We started at about 4 months and have been going with it since.

The downsides? Some folks won't like it, and they just might tell you about it. Their concern is usually that you are trying to potty-train a wee babe. But rest assured, as I hold my princess over the pot, singing our potty song and helping her count her toes, it is me who is trained and she who is going to the bathroom Cleopatra style. Another is restricted mobility. Give a baby the knowledge that she needn't poop her pants and she may just call you out on it, giving you a shout or seven while in her stroller when she needs the loo, pronto.

The upsides? Photo ops like the one above. Hello, Edie's Sweet Sixteen slideshow! And so few messy diapers that you have to bite your tongue not to brag about it. (But I do bite it. Karma doesn't like braggarts.)