18 August 2006
One of the blogs I read, Everyday Mommy, has a weekly feature called Everyday Things. Things that we take for granted, but shouldn't. Here's mine.
Waking up in the morning with my whole family under one roof. Jon returned this morning from a week-long business trip to the States. He doesn't travel as much as he used to, but I always miss him when he's gone and relieved when he comes home.
I don't complain (much!) about his traveling, not like I did before we moved. I'm surrounded by families whose husbands or wives are deployed to dangerous places. For months and months. They have to get to know their children again when they get back. So, I try not to complain about my husband spending a week in the States.
And I am even more thankful on Saturday mornings, when Katrina wakes up, calls for Papa, and he's here.
16 August 2006
When Jon's away, I generally supplement our "God is Great" prayer at dinner with a little prayer for Papa on his trip. The other night, Katrina insisted on praying. Here is what she said:
"Dear God, Thank you for princesses and queens and kings. Please keep Papa safe from bad guys. Seahorses are really pretty and I'd like to give you a present. Amen."
09 August 2006
Yes, we're still here. We've had a month of houseguests and are now in the second week of The Month With No Preschool (and No Doting Grandparents). Just introverted me and my extroverted daughter. All day. Every weekday.
Um, she's probably watching a leetle more TV and playing a just a little more on the computer than usual. Just a little. Hey, it's summer vacation.
Coincidentally, I'm not blogging much. My brain and any desire to, well, talk or communicate in any way shuts down about...now.
The good news is that the record-breaking heat wave has passed, at least for now. July was the hottest in Germany since 1994. The last week or so has been a breath of fresh air, or rather, of autumn air. Love it. Highs in the 60s to 70s, clouds and a few rainy days. The temps may be on their way up again, but we're enjoying the coolness for now.
Thank goodness. It was too hot to play outside at all there for awhile, unless you were swimming. This week has been playground week! Exercise for all! No unflattering swimsuits, just endless pleas of "Mama, chase me! Play tag, Mama! Be the evil monster! Be the evil queen and I'm the princess!"
For some reason, Katrina has stopped approaching random kids at the playground with the confidence and panache that I've come to expect and admire. I don't know if it's just that she's older and beginning to comprehend some risk of rejection, or if she's just wanting to stay closer to me than usual. If there are kids there that she knows, she's fine. But unless some other kid comes up to her, she's suddenly reluctant to approach them.
Now, I totally understand not initiating contact. It's not like that's something I ever did as a child. It's just a change in Katrina.
Tangentially related is an article I came across online. Please, if you worry that I (or anyone you know and love) am too quiet, spend too much time alone, don't talk to you enough, etc., read this.
Here's a few sentences to get the flavor. The author (Jonathan Rauch) writes:
Extroverts are easy for introverts to understand, because extroverts spend so much of their time working out who they are in voluble, and frequently inescapable, interaction with other people. They are as inscrutable as puppy dogs. But the street does not run both ways. Extroverts have little or no grasp of introversion. They assume that company, especially their own, is always welcome. They cannot imagine why someone would need to be alone; indeed, they often take umbrage at the suggestion. As often as I have tried to explain the matter to extroverts, I have never sensed that any of them really understood.
Also, check out Newsweek's Anna Quindlen: Live Alone and Like It.
And now, I am all communicated out. But before I go, I give you Katrina...songwriter and extemporaneous lyricist extraordinaire. This is what we heard from the back seat as we drove to church on Sunday:
"Jesus loves me this I know,
But he died
'Cause bad guys made him get dead...
Yes, Jesus died,
yes, Jesus died,
yes, Jesus died,
The Bible tells me so."
We DID tell her about, you know, the resurrection and all. Do you think she'd get the concept if I compared Easter to the Snow White or Sleeping Beauty stories? Or would lightning strike before I finished the explanation?