7 Quick Takes

--1--
Annika needs glasses. She is significantly far-sighted. I have known this for a month and have put off actually going to buy the glasses. Mostly because, those eyes! I don't want to cover them. Yesterday in the commissary no fewer than three people stopped to coo over her. And every one of them said, "Look at those big eyes!"

But I need to get over it and help the child actually SEE with those baby blues.



Look, it's that blur who calls herself Mama!

--2--
It's not every day that your child gets off the school bus with blood stains on her shirt. And blood-sodden tissues clutched in her hand. "She's got a little bit of a wobbly tooth," said the bus monitor cheerfully, which right then confirmed for me the stereotype of the British understatement. "Look, Mama!" she said, and opened her mouth to show me the blood streaking from one of her front teeth and pooling in her mouth. "I heard a crack and then it started bleeding," she said. "I need another Kleenex." Yeah, I think so.

Well, obviously the bloody tooth needed to come out. So Katrina swished salt water around her mouth, I grabbed a paper towel. and we started a-pulling. It was the little tooth on the bottom to the right of the two middle teeth. It was small. It was slippery. It was NOT coming out. After a half-hour of swishing, spitting out blood, and trying to pull out the blasted thing, we gave up. It seemed to be anchored on one side, despite the fact that I could wiggle it almost sideways. A few more "swish and spits" and the bleeding stopped.

The next day, Katrina came off the bus with her tooth in her backpack. It had fallen out all by itself while she was on the playground.

But I'm sure our efforts loosened it up. Right? Right? (Ok, no picture for this one because the first teeth coming out are Epic Photo Ops. The fourth tooth, oh, drat, almost forgot the tooth fairy thing.)

--3--
We have done our part to help the economy...of Deruta, Italy. In November, we ordered a new set of dishes. Since shipping a set of hand-painted dishes from Italy to Germany was just as expensive as you might expect, we waited until the company came to the next bazaar in Germany...and then asked our friend who works in Stuttgart to haul them home for us. They were my Christmas gift and I think food looks so much better on them. Hubby likes them but also? thinks they are Just. Plates. Nuh-uh! Look!



We make even Jennifer's cooking look good.

--4--
On Sunday, I taught Children's Church, which sounds way more fancy than it is, since it was a last-minute thing. I read the story nearly word for word from the Sunday School curriculum, then had the kids do the enclosed pre-printed craft. But the lesson has been bugging me, because it misrepresented what the Bible actually said.

The story of the day was the widow's mite. Jesus was hanging out at the temple with his disciples, watching people put money in the offering jars. Rich people put in a lot. Then a poor widow approaches, and puts in two coins, worth less than a penny. Jesus said (ahem, paraphrasing) "Look! That widow put in more than all of the rich people, because she gave all she had." End of story, on to another one.

So, the curriculum asks, was Jesus happy that the widow gave all she had? (The kids chorus, YES!) NO, says the curriculum. Jesus wasn't happy that the widow gave all she had, but because she was *thankful* to God.

What up with that?! Are the writers of the Sunday School curriculum afraid the little kiddos might actually take Jesus seriously? Bring their whole piggy bank to church the next Sunday? Couldn't have a bunch of kids growing up thinking that they need to give everything they have to God...could we?

--5--
Hmm. I just now got the irony of juxtaposing buying new dishes with the widow's mite story. This Christianity thing is HARD.

--6--
I've read several good books lately that I keep meaning to mention. One is The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister. I got this one out of the library. The book is essentially a series of stories about students in a cooking class,what their lives are like, why they came to the class, and how they intersect with each other over the eight-week course. The characters are well-drawn and the stories are poignant, but the writing itself is gorgeous, in an unselfconscious way.

Also, The Seduction of Water by Carol Goodman. This one has many of the conventions of a Gothic mystery--an old historic hotel, a missing book manuscript, a daughter trying to uncover the truth about her mother's death 30 years ago---but takes place in present day. Of course I'd be drawn to a book about two writers: the daughter, teaching writing classes and trying to finish her English dissertation; and the dead mother, famous for writing only two fantasy novels of what was supposed to be a trilogy. Woven throughout is an Irish legend of The Selkie. Loved it.

--7--
Katrina is a strong-willed person. This is obvious to anyone who's spent more than, say 5 minutes with her. Plus she's easily distracted. So, mornings and evenings are often spent repeating the same phrases over and over, with increasing force. "Katrina, go upstairs and start your bath. Katrina! upstairs, please. Katrina, NOW." She resisted to the point of tears (hers) and yelling (ours) last night. When she (we) calmed down, I said, "Katrina, the rule is that you do what Mama and Papa say the FIRST time we ask. And when I ask you to do something, the correct answer is, 'OK, Mama.' And then you DO it. The FIRST time. Or you will get a time out. Do you understand?"

She nodded gravely and said, "Yes, Mama." She was silent for a moment, and then...

"That's a new rule, Mama. You never told me that before."



For more Quick Takes, go over to www.conversiondiary.com

The More Things Change, The More They Remain The Same

Baby Weight

There is a sort of freedom in laying down a sleeping baby. The weight of responsibility, the constant pressure in your thoughts--what does baby need, why is she crying, what have I forgotten--eases for a time. For a time, she is self-sufficient, in her crib, dreaming whatever babies dream about.

A physical freedom, as well--you can move about freely, no baby to balance on hip or sit on lap, no hands reaching to grab whatever you pass or entwining themselves in your hair. The house is silent, peaceful, quiet enough to hear yourself breathing. To hear the baby breathing, even, if you stand still beside her crib and listen.

One can never move quickly enough to do everything you have postponed for the nap. While the baby is awake, playing and laughing and crying to be held and fed and played with, your mind tick, tick, ticks, in the background, running through the to-do list of Tasks That Are More Easily Performed During the Nap. Which, to be clear, is just about everything. Plans are made, long lists organized, all while spooning rice cereal into baby's mouth and saying "yum, yum!" and smiling back at her gummy grin. And when she starts rubbling her eyes, you get positively giddy with anticipation of Time Alone.

So you get out the bottle and cuddle up and listen to her sucking get slower and watch her long eyelashes flutter shut. Finally, you hear that last sigh of surrender, as her body relaxes and she burrows into her dreams.

Her weight in your arms, against your chest or over your shoulder, becomes just a tad heavier each day. And you remember just yesterday, when your older child squirmed out of your hug after just a moment. And you feel the absolute trust this little creature has, to fall asleep in your arms. And the List disintegrates, the tasks blowing away like autumn leaves. And you sit and listen to her breathe, feeling her weight, holding your baby just a few moments longer, slowing down the world.

Then There Was None

7 Quick Takes

--1--
I had a conversation with my cleaning lady the other day about sex/nudity in the media. She said that Americans are prudes, that we think it's okay to watch people shooting each other, violent stuff, but not nudity, "which is natural." I gave her the point about violence; I stopped watching 24 a few seasons ago because, seriously? Our Hero Jack Bauer was torturing someone in every episode. Of course now we've gone back to watching it with the new season...New, Improved! Less torture and more burying alive!

But also, the sex thing? I listen to top 40 music on the radio, and for the most part it seems to be the same as it has always been. But the videos I've seen in passing are getting more and more raunchy. I don't know if I'd be so sensitive to it if I didn't have daughters. I just know that I do not want Katrina or Annika to grow up thinking that womanhood should look like a Pussycat Dolls or Beyonce video.

--2--
I've been involved in a writers critique group for about a year. Someone e-mails their work to the group and we give them feedback and constructive criticism at the meeting. It's so interesting to see how different everyone is and how it's reflected in their writing. I absolutely love critiqueing others' work--trying to make it better. More than I love writing my own stuff. I think I miss my former life as a copyeditor.

--3--
I'm a pretty good public speaker, at least if whatever I'm saying is written out. So I read the Scripture at church every so often. Whenever I do, I get compliments, particularly from the pastor, who probably has heard his share of indifferent or stumbling readers. But the compliments make me uncomfortable. Because it's not hard for me--I'm a reader, I love to read, out loud or not. It has nothing to do with virtue or hard work. And it actually makes me feel like I need to perform, which is not the best attitude to have while reading Scripture for the glory of God. So despite the fact that I enjoy doing it and am good at it, I don't sign up to read except once every few months.

--4--
Annika has taken 2- to 3-hour morning naps the last two days. I'm hoping it's a pattern. She has also been a bit more restless at night. I'm hoping it's NOT a pattern.

--5--
Katrina started karate last week. This week, I watched on the closed-circuit TV as she sparred with a little boy. The instructors had them all decked out in padding from head to toe, but I was still sure it would end up in tears. It didn't, though. She was just annoyed that she didn't win and that the little boy was stronger than she was. (He was also more experienced--he had a yellow belt and it only her second session ever.)

--6--
I've kept up with praying the hours, at least during the week. It gives me a bit of structure to my day. And reminds me that I am not the one in control. I have a long prayer list, suddenly, it seems. People struggling with cancer, with their marriages, with being deployed and coping with their spouse being deployed. All people I actually know personally. It helps to be reminded a few times a day there is a higher perspective...a longer view than what I or anybody can see.

--7--
My husband's been working on our taxes the last few weekends. Meanwhile, we keep hearing on the news about these prominent people who somehow get away with NOT paying them. So, the Congress spends our taxes but can't be bothered with paying taxes themselves? Nice deal if you can get it.

First Bites

Annika had her 6-7 month well-baby appointment last Friday. She is doing very well, except that she is still anemic. So back on the iron. But the doctor said, "She's big!" with raised eyebrows and a surprised look on his face. (I, on the other hand, am not too surprised. We grow 'em big in this family and it was only a matter of time.) She's also about where she should be developmentally; the doc had recommended "baby gymnastics" (physical therapy) at her last appointment, which we didn't follow through on because of her surgery in November and going to the States in December. Now he still recommends it, but only in an "all babies would benefit" way.

We do need to make an appointment to see a pediatric cardiologist for an ultrasound of her heart. When she was born, she had a very small hole in her heart, which the doctors said was nothing to worry about and would probably close up on its own. Now is the time to see if that has happened.

It was also interesting to see first hand the difference a few decades make in how a doctor approaches the same issue. Annika's doc (who I'll Dr. Smith) is new to the practice, probably in his thirties. Katrina's doc (Dr. Smythe) is near retirement age (hence the addition of the young guy to the practice). Katrina has had minor stomach ailments on and off, and nearly every time I mention that I have celiac disease, and maybe we should check Katrina for it? Since it's genetic and all? And Dr. Smythe brushes me off (with the exception of the last time, when it finally seemed to register, but we still decided to see if it Zantac would help before doing other tests).

I mentioned that I have celiac to Annika's doc, in the context of when/what to feed her solid foods. Dr. Smith says, "Oh, we can do a genetic test next time we need to draw blood, just so you know if she's at risk. And she doesn't even need to be eating gluten for a genetic test." Score!

Also this week, Annika started on solids. We started with rice cereal, and I added some mashed banana after a few days. I was startled to realize how much I've forgotten about this stage. I remember Katrina loving sweet potato, but when did I introduce it? With Katrina, I did what I always do when faced with a new situation: read a million books about what to do and then decide. With Annika, I keep thinking, "I've done this before," and then totally wing it because my memory is so faulty! So, on order is Child of Mine by Ellyn Satter, which I remember as a very good book on feeding.

And, now, pictures of Annika's first feeding!

25 Random Things About Me

Here's an import from Facebook, which I'm fast becoming addicted to.

1. I've been thinking of stuff to write here all day. As soon as I sat down to write, my mind went blank.

2. Perhaps that explains my lack of regular writing output, despite the stellar ideas I get while driving the car.

3. I was a professional copyeditor and part-time writer for 10 years. Yes, I do notice your grammar mistakes and misspellings. I can't help it. But I won't tell you about it unless you ask me.

4. I think that a good writer can get away with a lot of BS. Remember that next time you read the newspaper--or the next James Frey book.

5. I've not used contraception since 1997.

6. I have two daughters, 6 years apart.

7. I've had three miscarriages.

8. I was strongly encouraged by the doctor who oversaw my younger daughter's birth not to get pregnant again.

9. Every medical condition I've ever been diagnosed with was preceded by a doctor telling me how rare it is.

10. I hate the word "rare."

11. I have celiac disease. I cannot eat wheat, rye, barley, and most types of oats. Yes, that means no (regular) bread. Yes, that means no pasta. No, I did not get this disease to annoy waiters in restaurants, though some have acted as though I did.

12. Parenting has taught me how very self-centered I am.

13. I am an INFP according to Myers-Briggs. My sister has the same personality type except she is an "E" (extrovert). My husband has the opposite personality type except that we're both "I's" (introverts).

14. I am a Christian and a member of the Lutheran denomination. I love the Lutheran liturgy and resonate with the core theology. But I am too conservative to feel at home in the liberal wing of American Lutheranism (ELCA) and too liberal to feel at home in the conservative wing (Missouri Synod). The church we currently attend is a hybrid of the two (because there are not enough English-speaking Lutherans to form separate churches). I feel at home there.

15. I vote Republican but do not agree with some of their positions.

16. I am pro-life. I believe abortion hurts women as well as their unborn children. But I think the law in the U.S. will never be changed. I think the pro-life movement should focus more on changing people's hearts and helping women in crisis and less on politics. Yet I cannot bring myself to vote for a pro-choice candidate.

17. I fail to understand the fuss on the Republican/Christian right about (not) legalizing gay marriage. Let gays marry if they want to. Aren't there way more important things to worry about? Like, I don't know, war, poverty, disease?

18. All through high school I thought I was fat. Now I would LOVE to weigh what I did in high school.

19. I am easily overwhelmed by clutter, a busy schedule, too many people in one place, or a mall. Parties are fun but exhausting. A busy mall at Christmas when I have 62 people to buy for is a recipe for a very bad day.

20. I hate to make phone calls. I will IM you before I call you. I will e-mail you before I IM you. I will update my status on Facebook and assume you saw it before I e-mail you. If you call me, I will enjoy our conversation. And kick myself for not calling you sooner. And you'll probably still have to make the next phone call.

21. I wonder why I have trouble making friends?

22. Living in Germany would be perfect if only I could transplant my family and friends here.

23. I think Battlestar Galactica is the best thing on television.

24. When I am in a public place, I eavesdrop on strangers and speculate on what their lives are like. Living in a foreign country has kind of limited that habit, because people insist on speaking their native language(s).

25. Perhaps from that same impulse, I read way too many blogs. And start way too many sentences with, "This blog I read? Well, this person said..." This has prompted my sister to make fun of my imaginary Internet friends. But hey, you guys aren't imaginary, right? Right? Call me!

Just to Amuse My Siblings

This will probably be funny only if you were a church kid/singer in the 80s-early 90s.

Random Cuteness

Baby is still up twice a night, every night. Wake-up for me is 6:30 am to get Katrina on the bus by 8:30. Have plenty of profound thoughts, fleeting, I bet that would have been a good blog postZZZZZZZZ.

Hey, pictures!

The girls entertaining each other.





Seven degrees.


Favorite toy.



Cutest of all.

7 Quick Takes

I know, the blogging has been sparse. But, I'm back to try again 7 Quick Takes from Jen at Conversion Diary. Because Annika's naps are reeeeeeally short.

--1--
In an update to my previous post, after feeling bad all day that I had no decent warm clothes for Katrina in single-digit temperatures, I asked her that night if she was cold during recess. (What? Keep kids inside on a sunny, but freezing cold day? Only an American school would do that. The Brits and the Germans? "Fresh air is good for you!")

"Were you warm enough when you went outside at lunchtime?"

"Mama," in an injured tone, "I was soooo hot and they wouldn't let me take off my coat!"

"Honey, it was very cold today--only about 15 degrees at lunchtime. Of course they didn't let you take your coat off."

"But, MAma, the sun was out!"

--2--
Toys are taking over our house. I've been packing up some of Katrina's toys that she no longer uses or which are too young for her. I have to do this without her, because she will insist that she wants to keep toys that she has not touched in a year.

Perhaps it was not the right time to read her Racketty-Packetty House--about an old, neglected dollhouse and dolls supplanted by the brand-new but soulless Tidy Castle. But it was a fun book for both of us.


--3--
I recently read Robert Benson's In Constant Prayer and it convinced me to once again try to pray the daily offices. I met Robert Benson at a writer's conference many years ago, and he impressed me with his kindness and his ability to be straight-forward, humble, and poetic all at the same time. If you are at all interested in spiritual memoir, go hunt down his first book, Between the Dreaming and the Coming True, about his struggle with depression. All of his books are beautifully written, but that one is my favorite.

Oh, and as always, something about Benson's writerly voice and dry humor reminds me of my cousin Dave. Which amuses me because their worldviews couldn't be more different. But I bet they would appreciate each other's work (and humor).

--4--
In addition to praying the daily offices (I'm using Phyllis Tickle's The Divine Hours), my other New Year's resolutions are to get back to exercising regularly and to write regularly. Today is the second day I exercised, and I'm feeling it.

--5--
Annika is teething, we think. She is not happy. She is especially not happy if I put her down. At all. From about noon on. So, I did push-ups and chest presses and what-not this morning during her nap (using an exercise DVD), and I spent the rest of the day carrying the baby around. Oh, and her crying has turned to screeching. Actually, most of her vocalizations get up into screeching range. She squeals for joy and she squeals in frustration and she squeals when she's hungry and...what's that? oh, just my eardrums vibrating.

--6--
Katrina is in football (soccer) club at school. Last week, I arrived just in time to see her beaned on the side of the face by the ball. She cried, of course, and sat on the bench and held her cold water bottle against her face. I was so proud when she decided to get back in the game after about 10 minutes. Within two minutes, she got hit in the head again.

And yet she went back to football club today. Good for her! And no injuries today, thank goodness.

--7--
Did I mention that Annika is teething? She did not go to sleep easily tonight, but worked herself up to crying/screaming pretty hard. I calmed her down, finally, and she started to relax in my arms and suck on the bottle. I sang a bit to get her to sleep. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and I started to relax for the first time in hours. And it appeared in my mind, a song I haven't thought of for years, "Sweet Little Jesus Boy." I couldn't remember all the words, so I hummed it to a just-barely-sleeping Annika. In my mind's eye I could see Joe Graves singing it in the church of my childhood, his gravelly voice catching on the minor notes. I searched through YouTube trying to find a similar version. The closest to the arrangement that Joe sang is the version below, sung by Andy Williams, of all people. Joe is long gone, but to me, the song will always be his, sung in a hushed, darkened church, with a spare piano accompaniment, his voice needing only a few running notes before it soared away.

They Used to Call Me Gifted

Happy New Year! We are slowly getting over jet lag from our two-week trip to the States. All but the baby slept through last night, as opposed to the previous night, when Katrina (and, thus, me) was awake from about 11 pm to 2 am. Oh, and the baby woke at 1 am and 4 am. Then up to get ready for school at 7 am. Good times.

I keep seeing other blogs doing various types of "year in review" posts to start the new year. But since I skip those posts, I won't bore you with one of them here. Instead, I'll entertain you with a brand-new tale of my own stupidity. (OK, "entertain" and "tale" might be strong words to use. "Stupidity"...uh, yeah, exactly right.)

OK, so we bought Katrina a brand-new winter coat at Target while we were in the States. It came equipped with a zip-out lining (that could also be worn as a separate jacket) and a removable hood. Within a few days after we bought it, temperatures were near 60 in northern Virginia. We took out the lining and took off the hood. Stuck them in our suitcases.

A week later, in Pennsylvania, packing Christmas presents in boxes to send back to Germany. I remembered last winter in Germany, when the temperatures got below freezing maybe a few times the whole season. And when Katrina wore only the shell from her (old) Target winter jacket the whole season. The lining turned into a spring jacket. The only time I tried to have her wear them together, she complained that it was too bulky and hot. So. Lets just put the lining and the hood in the box. Less weight in our luggage, and she probably won't need it until spring, anyway. We'll get it in a week or two, anyway.

This morning, it was 7 degrees. Seven. I had to check the thermometer...surely it had been mistakenly set to Celsius. No. The high today is expected to be 15 degrees F.

So Katrina went to school in the lining from her old jacket paired with the outer shell of her new jacket. And one of those headband thingies to keep her ears warm, because...no hood, and no hat that I could find at 6:30 this morning. She DID have gloves...of course, they had holes in them from last time she used them and I haven't had a chance to go get new ones, and, hey, she didn't even use her gloves last year but once, and...

Any day now, the school will take up a collection for poor kids who have no winter coats, and Katrina will come home with an envelope full of loose change and a note: PLEASE buy this child some warm clothes!

Who would like to bet on the temperature going back up just in time for the box that contains the rest of the coat to arrive?

Annika, Child of God

Annika was baptized on Sunday. We had a friend take pictures, and the light was not very good, so slightly blurry. Katrina behaved very well and seemed engaged in the whole proceeding. Annika looked around with wide eyes the whole time...even when the water was poured on her head. No crying, just looking about as if to say, "what's going on here?"

This morning, Katrina said, "Annika is part of God's family now." Yes she is, baby. And so are you. Thanks be to God for the miracle of you both.

7 Quick Takes Friday

Jennifer at her excellent blog Conversion Diary has begun a meme that suits my random, sleep-deprived brain. So here are my 7 quick takes for this week.

--1--
I have not succeeded in getting Annika to nap for any significant amount of time in her crib or bouncy seat. Which is why I'm typing this with one hand. She does sleep well in her crib at night, up one or two times per night but usually quickly back to sleep after a bottle.

She slept from 9 pm to 7 am the night before last. Hopes were raised.

She was up at 2:30 and 4:30 am last night. Oh, the desolation (mine, not hers).

--2--
My computer keyboard is broken. The numbers five and six, the hyphen, and the page up key do not work. I've been using the "on-screen keyboard" for those keys. I use the hyphen/dash a LOT. For the second time, now, I get to go computer-free soon so HP can fix it. I think we bought a lemon laptop.

--3--
A friend brought us dinner a few days after Annika's surgery. Until yesterday, I had been holding her dishes hostage because I kept forgetting to either call her to drop them off, or in one case, actually take them with me when I was going to see her at a meeting. And yet I can recite the jingle for a local shoe store from my childhood (Super Shoes, for those playing along). Maybe I need to write my to-do list in rhyme.

--4--
Katrina played a cloud in "Scarecrow's Christmas" at the school. She had one line and delivered it admirably. The cast included the preschool, kindergarten, and first grade ages. They were all adorable. I was relieved that Annika, though awake through the performance, did not make a peep.

--5--
We traded in our Volkswagen Passat for a Mazda 5, mostly so we could fit more people than just the four of us. The Mazda was the smallest vehicle we could get that seated six. I like it so far. Katrina was very sad that we got rid of the Passat and had to go through some time of mourning. You know, until she discovered that she could open and close the Mazda's cool sliding doors herself.

--6--
I'm reading a book called Making Work Work for the Highly Sensitive Person. My mother-in-law gave it to me mainly because of its interesting concept of work being either Drudgery, Craft, or Calling. But as I'm reading it I realize that I fit into way more personality traits of highly sensitive people than I thought. I thought I was just pretty introverted, itself in the minority in American culture. Now I'm highly sensitive too, which the book says is only 20% of people? I really am a bit out of step.

And did everyone else already know this about me (being highly sensitive, not out of step :) ), because now I'm thinking, well, duh, of course?

--7--
I think everyone should go watch my cousin Dave's porcupine videos. Katrina was fascinated and now wants to "see a REAL porcupine, not just on the computer."

Advent

Advent is a time of preparation, church folks hear nowadays. Not the preparation of buying and wrapping gifts, but preparation for the coming of Jesus. Not too long ago, my pastor noted last week, it was a time of repentence, like Lent. The two aren't too far apart. In Scripture and in other spiritual writings, the holy Presence always shows us that we are not holy. The same robes of righteousness that look white in the grey of early dawn turn out to be dirty rags when the sun breaks through.

Perhaps that's why Advent speaks to me more than Christmas. The longing, the waiting, the awareness that what we see is not quite right. Perhaps because the world seems oh, so dark right now.

But "those who have lived in darkness have seen a great light." We know that there is something wrong in the world. Those of us who are Christian as well as those who believe in something else, or nothing else. We know it, bone-deep. Something is not right.

Christians believe that once upon a time, God came to earth to heal it. And that he will come again. And we wait...for the child, for the Christ, for the healing.

"Tears are falling, hearts are breaking
How we need to hear from God.
You've been promised, we've been waiting..."

Me, Too

Ode to Obnoxious Christmas Letters.
Send me your Christmas letters! I read and enjoy every word. I'm working on mine right now...you just may get it in time for New Year's.

In Which I Channel My Dad

So the stereotype is that women worry about turning into their mothers as they get older. I, apparently, should worry about turning into my father.

I was getting dressed the other day and rummaged through my sock drawer. And then I thought, "You know what I really need for Christmas? Some new socks."

Thankful

Let the Wild Rumpus Start!

These are the three books Katrina chose at bedtime.



Together, they just about sum up her personality.



In other news, Annika and hubby went up to Mainz today to get Annika's stitches out. Because of her prematurity, the anethesiologist is being extra careful and keeping Annika overnight in the hospital just to make sure she has no adverse reactions. So it's awful quiet this evening. I have one picture of the "new, improved" baby, taken with hubby's phone, so not my usual stellar photo quality (it's hard to write that with a straight face). So, here is the preliminary "reveal" of Extreme Makeover: Baby Edition.



More pictures to come, of course.

But for tonight, a good night's sleep. A luxury...if I could just stop feeling like there's something (someone) missing.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety-Jig

Annika and I are home from the hospital! The surgeon said the surgery went perfectly. Her nose is already looking much more symmetrical. Her incision is covered with thin strips if medical tape, making her look like she has whiskers. But her upper lip looks nearly normal to me, except for the vertical line of black stitches slightly left of center.

She doesn't seem to be in much pain, and is smiling off and on. Eating is a bit of a challenge. She seems to be trying not to engage her upper lip too much, which makes for somewhat messy feedings. On the other hand, when she does use her upper lip, the milk comes a bit too fast for her and she chokes a bit. We may experiment with slower-flow nipples as she heals a bit more.

My husband will take her back up to the hospital next Wednesday to get stitches out; she will need general anaesthesia for that, so they may stay the night just for observation afterwards.

Annika's face will continue to change over the next year. It should be interesting to watch. Right now, we're relieved it all went well.

Before

Tomorrow Annika checks into the hospital, with me rooming in. Wednesday morning, she will have surgery to correct her lip. Germans like their patients to stay in the hospital a bit longer than in the States. Doc said she'd be an inpatient for 5 days. Stay tuned for "after" pictures once she's healed a bit.

If everything goes as planned, we should both be back home by Sunday night. Keep us in your thoughts and prayers, please. "See" you next week.