We walked through the smallish bit of woods behind our house. I saw beer bottles, blackberry brambles, and power lines. Katrina collected bits of bark and smooth stones for a fairy house and said, “That was an adventure! Can we have another adventure tomorrow?”
Welcome, fairies!
"Walk unsteadily and carry a big stick."
Hieeeee!= Hi!
Hawwo = Hallo/Hello
Hiya! = Hiya! (once in a while…this is her “third” language, British English from the Mums and Tots playgroup we attend)
Mama
MommEEE = Mama, you better pay attention NOW!
Papa
Deeeeda = Katrina
Djoooo! = Juice, water, or anything in a bottle or cup
DjOOooo (sing-song) = Tschuess! (Bye in German)
Boo! = Peek-a-boo
Bup = Up
Da = Down
Cwackuh = Cracker (or any snack she sees and wants)
Cooooookee = Cookie
Day-doo = Thank you
Da-ga = Danke (She says one, then the other, every time.)
Ee-yow = Meow
Eye-eeee = eye
Ow-ah = Auge (German for eye)
Doh = Nose
Haaaah = Hair/Haare
Ha = Head
Hah (whispered) = hot/heiss
EE-yews = Ears
Teee = Teeth
Bla-la-la-la (tongue in and out) = tongue (that totally counts!)
Ga-ga = glasses
Bye-Bye
Nigh-Nigh = Night-night
Bap = Nap
Gock = sock
Mo pees = More, please (when prompted)
Aw-dun, aw-dun, aw-dun = All done
Baby (refers to any baby or small child, even those older than her)
Jeh-too = Gentle (while stroking dog or baby)
Stranger save of the week (day?)
In the commissary, Annika is strapped into the seat on the cart. I am turned away, toward Katrina and the row of candy she is lobbying to buy. Suddenly, I hear a woman say “Uh, oh, no, no!” I turn to see the (wonderful! kind!) woman gently taking my now-open dozen of eggs out of Annika’s hands. Another few seconds and they would h ave been on the floor—thrown, not dropped, I expect. Yay for kind, alert strangers in the store!
Boo!
I know the daily round of children and school and laundry and naps and meals and driving to and fro and, and, and, is getting to me when I start fantasizing about getting just sick enough to languish in bed for a day. Or two.
Now’s the time of year when the routine starts getting to me—when the weather is “always winter and never Christmas.” Now’s about the age (19 months) when child care becomes most relentless. Take your eyes off Annika for an instant and risk destruction of property or injury to her person. She also has a winner of a case of separation anxiety (STILL), which means me cooking dinner, running upstairs to get something, or otherwise leaving her sight is unacceptable. She can walk away from me, mind you, and does so on a regular basis (particularly in public). But I cannot walk away from her without risking my hearing and nerves.
I’ve been listening to Sara Grove’s most recent CD, and one song in particular struck a chord with me. Unfortunately, I cannot find it online to share it with you, but it’s a bouncy country-ish song called “Setting Up the Pins.” The liner notes say she wrote it while washing the dishes (which—yeah, I’m not so productive as writing while doing housework). It’s about that daily routine and how we all try to get out of it. “Let’s get rich find a way around setting up the pins for knocking ‘em down.”
The lyric that knocks me down is:
my grandmother had a working song
hummed it low all day long
sing for the beauty that's to be found
in setting up the pins for knocking em down
In a flash I see an older woman, scrubbing clothes by hand, humming and peaceful. Purposeful, even. And I wonder how to find that. To see the routine as meaningful. To take joy in washing the dishes again, in ironing the same white shirts, in cooking dinner, in packing a lunch five days a week. I know it’s possible, but in these grey winter mornings, it’s hard to see it.
And then I realize at the school gate that I haven’t really looked at my children that morning. They have been small mouths to feed and bodies to dress. I’ve been prodding my older one to brush her teeth and get her coat on and WILL YOU GET IN THE CAR OR WE’LL BE LATE. And just before I say good-bye I look into her eyes and her cold-flushed face and hug her and tell her I love her and to have a good day. And she is healthy and beautiful and bigger than life. And then the little one pulls on my hand and we amble down the driveway at toddler speed. And I remember. Oh, yeah. That’s why.
P.S. Do you see what we’re dealing with here?
1. Yes, yes, blogging has been sparse lately…again. I basically have about an hour and a half to myself during the day, during Annika’s nap. Since we returned from the States, Annika has slept through the night maybe two or three times. Last night, she cried briefly at 1 am and settled back to sleep before I got to her room. Score!
Then Katrina woke up at 4 am after having a nightmare (which is pretty rare for her). I swear,the children plot with each other to give the parents maximum sleep deprivation. And no sleep = no brain power to write blog entries.
2. Katrina didn’t tell me what her nightmare was about, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Yesterday it was announced at school that the mother and sister of a former student (who rode on Katrina’s bus last year) had been killed in a car accident. I didn’t really know the family except to wave at the bus stop, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this lovely little girl, about 10 years old, who is now without a mother and little sister. Katrina said that they would be writing letters later in the week. She composed some thoughts out loud in the car: “Dear J., I’m sad your mum and sister died. I hope that you can feel better about that.” And isn’t that exactly the sentiment that adults try to express, but more indirectly and with prettier words? Please keep this family in your prayers. I think it will be a very long time before anyone “feels better".”
3. I’ve been a bit addicted to Hillbuzz, a political Web site run by five gay guys from Chicago. They supported Hillary Clinton in the Democratic primaries and were so upset at the way she was treated by the Dems that they jumped ship to work for the McCain/Palin campaign. They don’t like Obama or the health-care bill. I don’t always agree with them, but they tell it like they see it, the writing is good, and they often have interesting ideas as well as stories about their lives.
4. Annika is walking…and climbing. Katrina wasn’t a climber, so imagine my surprise to look over and see my baby on top of the open dishwasher door…standing on the biggest dining room chair…kneeling on the top step of the step stool…
5. She also likes to “help” Mama by pulling utensils out of the dishwasher and handing them to me to put away. It is a fun way to start the morning. Unfortunately, she also wants to help in this way anytime the dishwasher is open. I have not yet made her understand that we take out utensils only after they’re clean.
6. After living in Germany for four years, I’ve gotten used to many little cultural differences. But I still cannot get used to random (to me) people knocking on my door and coming in to check stuff. Today, a guy in a car with a chimney sweep logo on his car showed up at the door to check the flue from the wood fireplace. I questioned him a bit, because we had had no fireplace at our old house. The gas people show up out of the blue once or twice a year (the meters are inside the house), but this was the first chimney sweep I’d seen. I wasn’t sure if he was official or just trying to drum up business. But he explained that it was a state law that the flue had to be checked each year. Alrighty then.
It sounds like the beginning of a MacGruff the Crime Dog PSA. But the guy came in, went up to the third floor, checked what he needed to check, and left. There you go.
7. “Glee” has finally started here. I saw the pilot on Hulu over the summer (Hulu does not work outside of the States, by the way. Curses!) and have been eagerly awaiting it’s arrival here. Love it…or at least the pilot and the first episode. After all, I was in show choir for four years in high school. The surprise is that my mostly nonmusical husband likes it, too. Although? Singing a song perfectly, the first time you see the sheet music? I don’t think so.
And I’m waiting for the all-day choreography session. Jazz hands!
For more Quick Takes, see Conversion Diary.
Our Christmas vacation was nothing if not exciting. We arrived the night before the Big Snow started on the East Coast…perfect timing, since most flights were cancelled the next day, and the one we would have taken was diverted to Chicago. In a parallel world where we were responsible parents and didn’t pull our kid out of school a day early, we would have spent who-knows-how-long at O’Hare trying to get to DC. So yay us for being irresponsible!
A few days later, we drove out of snow-packed Northern Virginia four hours southeast to Virginia Beach to spend a week with my side of the family in a gorgeous beach house. It was fun to see all of the cousins together, especially since we hadn’t seen my brother’s family since before Annika was born. It was noisy chaos much of the time, what with six children and eight adults, plus various folks popping in and out to see us.
The beach was absolutely beautiful and freezing cold most of the week.
Notice my mom and the baby and I, all bundled up. It was about 30 degrees F and windy.
And then there is Katrina. “No, Mom, I am NOT cold. I don’t WANT my jacket zipped.”
Christmas was, as one might expect, joyful and loud, but not as chaotic as one would think. The cousins took turns pretty amiably, considering their ages. Guess who’s kids were awake first?
No, wait, girls, the grown-ups need to get their coffee/tea first…
Joy. Very LOUD joy. I suspect my brother’s video of the kiddos opening presents is full of Katrina’s LOUD rejoicing and my voice telling her to keep it down. Hope he didn’t want to hear his OWN kids. Ah, well.
The most notable event of the week for us, though, was Annika deciding it was time to walk. Maybe the peer pressure from her nearly two-year-old cousin finally gave her the confidence she needed.
The cousins had a blast together, with a minimum of fighting.
Oh, and yes, all the cousins are girls. Wheeee!
The day after Christmas, we headed back to Northern Virginia for a week with hubby’s parents. A bit more low-key, but packed full of activity just the same.
Then it was time to come back home, where we collapsed in a screaming puddle of jet lag for a few days. We got back last Sunday, and Katrina’s first day of school was Wednesday. Yeah, those mornings got a bit ugly. But snow started falling Friday night, so good fun was had by all yesterday.
And so the old year ended and another year begins.
Have I missed anything? Add your own!
We call her Destructo-Baby.
In the car yesterday afternoon, I asked Katrina what she did in school that day. “I…POOPED on the CARPET!” she crowed, and then started laughing hysterically. She cracked herself up so much she had to repeat it about five times, whooping each time.
I thought only boys found scatological remarks hilarious, but apparently I was mistaken.
The audience of Herself, and Annika, who was laughing because big sis was laughing, wanted more. “And then I WEE-ED on the floor! Ahahahaha!”
“Ha, ha, well, um, interesting, so what did you do for real?”
“I, I, I, ran around in my PANTIES!” [ed. note: HI, Wendy!]
By this time, I thought I might as well join in the hilarity. “What a COINCIDENCE! That’s what I did today, too! Danced around with my underwear on my head!”
That set off fresh gales of laughter, and increasingly ridiculous scenarios from Katrina.
I am a comic genius.
That is, if you’re 7 and in a silly mood because it’s been raining for a week.
We used to have sun, and then it went away. Forecast for the rest of this week: rain, clouds, rain, rain.
I don’t read many food blogs (though I do think Gluten-Free Girl is about the best writing you’re going to see, whether you’re a foodie or not), but every so often a few of the blogs I read post favorite recipes. Often they include lovely photos of each step of the process.
For me, reading these kinds of posts are like reading a fantasy novel. One reason is the rather unique demands of my family: my gluten-free diet; my husband’s and daughter’s pickiness (and are they picky about the same things? of course not!); and now, Katrina’s recent diagnosis of fructose malabsorption.
The other reason is my darling baby. Annika is 16 months now. I love this stage. Until I try to actually DO anything—like cook dinner. Without further ado, here is my step-by-step version of Burgundy Chicken…a dish the whole family enjoys, which is a rarity.
