Honesty Is for Suckers

Thursday was the first day of Katrina's half-term break, and we were to meet some schoolfriends at the pool. This was the first time I've been in a swimsuit since before I got pregnant with Annika.

"Ugh. This swimsuit fits a bit too tight since..." I muttered, about to finish the sentence with "since the baby."

But Katrina was too fast for me. "Since you got fat?" she said sympathetically.

well, uh, YES, actually. Thanks for noticing.

Now It Gets Really Messy

Spiritual Growth

Dear Zondervan Publishing,

I recently bought my daughter your Kid's Quest Study Bible, which has, you say "Real Questions, Real Answers." True, there are quite a few (500, it says) of those little boxes with interesting questions and answers. The little cartoons that go with them are cute, too.

But I think you missed a few questions. Since I started reading Genesis to my daughter (who refused to start in the Gospels, but wished to begin on the very first page of the book), she has asked some questions that I think you should include in your next edition. You wish to include real answers to the questions real kids ask, right?

Let's start off with Creation. My daughter would like to know why God used Adam's rib to make Eve, instead of dust. She would also like to know if it hurt Adam and if he then was missing a rib the rest of his life. In addition, a map showing the current whereabouts of the Garden of Eden would be helpful. Oh, and an explanation of why God made mosquitos would also be a good idea. Bugs are always good for some cartoon magic.

Another question my daughter asked was why people in Bible times lived so long...Noah lived over 900 years! Can you add that Q&A to the list?

In Genesis 17, God tells Abram to circumcise all the males in his family as a sign of the covenant. I think you missed an opportunity to address an obvious question that kids would ask, and that my daughter did ask: "What is circumcision?" With that Q&A missing, I had to offer my own explanation. I'm surprised you overlooked that question. The closest section offering a Q&A was about whether angels could look human, which, really, Zondervan? Was answered pretty well in the text itself.

Also, if you are going to use the words "made love" instead of the rather more oblique "knew" or "laid with" about the prerequisite for making babies, perhaps a little Q&A box would help curious readers. My daughter has not asked what this means yet, but we're only at Genesis 21 and I'm sure there are many more references to come.

Finally, my daughter would really like to know why God asked Abraham to kill his son. As a matter of fact, I'd like an answer to that one myself. Maybe your editors could get on that.

Thanks again for your kid-friendly Bible. I'm sure I'll be writing again with more suggestions as we progress.

Sincerely,

Katrina's mom

7 Quick Takes--Typisch Deutsch Edition

I realized the other day that there are a number of little things about German culture and lifestyle that I have come to take for granted. After 4 years of living here, I find when I return to the States on vacation that the American way of doing things now seems foreign. So, seven quick takes on some everyday German idiosyncracies.

--1--
Two-toned hair. The genesis for this post was my cashier at the German grocery store last week. She was in her maybe her late forties and had short, tousled dark hair. Well, dark except for the wide streak of purple in front. Now, I've seen plenty of wild colors in hair in the States. Never on anyone over, say, 30, though. But two-toned hair is no respector of age in Germany. Purple is unusual, but I regularly see well-coiffed middle-aged and older women with blond hair on top and dark hair on the bottom. Or magenta. Or orangey. Yes, the bright red-orange colors are neck in neck with the blonde. When your mother has two-toned magenta/black hair, what's a young teen girl to do? Oh, yeah...bright blue or pink.

--2--
Driving. Germany is famous for its no-speed-limit autobahns (and for its legendary traffic jams on said autobahns). But it's the little roads through towns and residential areas that you really need the driving skills for. Whether because the roads were built before the age of autos, or just to make sure cars don't whip through residential areas, the roads are narrow. But that doesn't mean you can't park on them! So, narrow roads with parked cars on one or both sides of the street equals one-lane roads. When driving along this type of road, keep your eyes peeled for 1) cars bearing down from the opposite direction and 2) breaks in the parked cars so you can pull over and let opposing cars pass you. At any moment you may have to wheel into a gap and stop. Then manuever back out into the road and go on your way. This does not seem to be much of an irritant to Germans, who generally are happy to yield right-of-way and just seem more patient and cooperative while driving.

Until you're on the autobahn of course. Now you see why, once Germans get onto the autobahns, there's no stopping them.

--3--
Speaking of which, the main rule on the autobahn is: watch your rear. If you're in the left lane, you better be passing someone on the right. And if a car is, ahem, RAPIDLY approaching you from behind, get the hell into the right lane because it is not stopping or slowing down. This key traffic law differs dramatically from the States. There are very few cars puttering along in the left lane here. It's a matter of survival as well as law.

--4--
Fresh air. Many Germans despise air conditioning. They think it unhealthy and unnatural. Few public spaces have AC, not even malls or museums. Fresh air is the cure for all that ails you...and the key to preventing mold in your house. German houses are built with concrete blocks, so moisture does not escape easily. If you don't at least crack your windows frequently (preferably every day, no matter how cold it is), you invite mold and lots of it. The tenant's responsibility to open the windows daily is written into every apartment lease.

Also, the way to air out your bedding (Germans use duvets but no top sheets) is to open your window and fold the duvet over the windowsill, so that part of it hangs outside. And dryers are expensive and unnecessary when you can hang clothes outside. German washers have a very high velocity spin cycle, so clothes come out just damp and ready to be hung outside (when weather's good) or inside on a clothes rack. Many Germans do not own a dryer.

--5--
Restaurant service. It takes some getting used to, eating in restaurants in Europe. In the States, your perky server checks in with you at least once a meal, more likely two times or more. "Everything okay? Can I get you anything else?" In Europe (not just Germany), this is seen as intrusive. The server takes your drink order, brings your drinks, takes your food order, brings your food, and then goes away, never to return unless you flag her/him down. Eating out is a luxury and a leisurely activity. There is no concept of "turning tables" at any sit-down restaurant. If you reserve a table, it is reserved for the whole night.

Also, in Germany, the food comes out whenever it is ready...no hot lamps in the kitchen or perceived necessity to bring out all the food for a table at once. If you wait to eat until everyone is served, you will have cold food. If you order pizza and your companion orders steak, you could be finished with your pizza before the steak arrives. Believe me, I know.

--6--
Sundays. Everything is closed on Sundays. Yes, that includes grocery stores. Some bakeries are open on Sunday mornings. Restaurants are open, movie theaters are open, gas stations are open. Stores are closed. Car dealers are closed.

And, from what I have seen, a common Sunday outing is to take a walk and stop and look at the cars at the closed car dealership. I don't know why...no sales pressure? But whenever we're out and about on a Sunday, we see people peering into car windows and otherwise inspecting the cars on the outside lots of a darkened dealership.

Unless, of course, the stores are open. "Verkaufsoeffener Sonntags"--open Sundays--are very popular. A particular town will announce the date of their open Sunday a month ahead of time. And the town will be flooded with eager shoppers with nowhere else to go. Often, the open Sundays coincide with some special event, like a carnival (Kerwe) or market day (we went to the Landstuhl Mai Markt last week).

--7--
Spargel! "Spargel" is German for asparagus, and Germans seem to love it. In the spring, every restaurant has a "Spargel Menu," usually including spargel soup, spargel with hollandaise sauce, and at least a few other dishes. But this isn't your petite green American asparagus spears. German spargel is white and kind of looks like giant fingers. I'm not a fan of spargel (can't get past the "giant fingers covered in sauce" thing), but when the spargel signs start going up, you know it is spring.


It's Spargel! Who needs other vegetables?

See Conversion Diary for other quick takes.

Sometimes I Envy Her the Stroller

In Cologne...

7 Quick Takes...Catch-Up Picture Edition

It's been a busy few weeks, what with Katrina having her 2-week term break, a trip to Cologne, and the subsequent total breakdown of Annika's sleep patterns. But last night the baby slept nearly 12 hours, so my brain fog is somewhat thinner today.

-1-
We've had extraordinarily good spring weather, with a long stretch of sunny, warm days. Easter was a lovely day, and we got a few pictures of the girls in their pretty dresses. Unfortunately, we took them in the late-ish afternoon, and Annika was just DONE with being at all charming.







-2-
Being two months premature, Annika is a bit behind on her motor skills, so her doctor recommended some physical therapy sessions. (Dubbed "baby gymnastik" in German, which sounds more fun and less medical.) It has become clear that my mellow little baby is just as strong-willed as her big sister. Annika likes sitting up. Annika LOVES sitting up. Annika will cry if you lay her down on her back to play (she is tolerating it a little better now, though). So we had been letting her sit up to the exclusion of any other position, which is not so good for learning those little skills like rolling over and crawling. Just making her lay down and putting a few toys just out of reach has made her much more mobile.

Annika previously HATED to be on her tummy. She is now tolerating it a little better, for longer periods of time. But the therapist has been having a bit of trouble with our little cutie. See, the therapist tries to demonstrate "exercises" that we can do at home, at the moment consisting of ways to roll Annika from her back to her tummy so that she can get the technique for doing it herself. Little problem: Annika resists being rolled over with all of her might. First exercise: grasp the baby's upper thigh and take one leg over the other, thus turning the whole body over. Not so fast--Annika digs the other leg into the ground, effectively turning the move into a breakdance circle (turning around on one side). Second exercise: pull one arm over the other and roll the whole body from back to front. Not so fast--now both legs and the unheld arm dig into the floor, again negating the effect. She gets to her side but no further. Now, if the therapist makes any move toward Annika, the sweetheart flings both arms out straight. Eventually, the therapist figured out that you have to hold one leg straight while grasping the other thigh to roll her...preferably while Annika holds a toy in her hand so she can't use her arms to stop the motion.

The therapist says she has never seen a baby this age who is so strong and determined. That's my girl!



Ha, ha! Just try to get me on my tummy!

-3-
Annika's top two teeth are now coming in, but at different paces. At the moment, I'm tempted to call her Ol' Snaggletooth.




What did you just call me?!

-4-
We had lovely weather in Cologne and walked all over the city. Accompanied by the whining of our 6-yr-old. "I'm Tiiiired, I'm hot, my feet hurt, I'm HUNGRY!" Katrina did enjoy seeing the huge old cathedral (built in the middle ages and practically the only thing left standing after WWII), visiting the chocolate museum, and smelling every possible perfume in Cologne's famous 4711 cologne shop (where they've been selling "Koelnisch Wasser," Cologne's most famous...cologne, for hundreds of years). But when asked her favorite part of the trip, her answer was "Dunkin Donuts!" There were two Dunkin Donuts shops in the pedestrian zone, within walking distances of the hotel. So she and hubby walked there every morning while I fed the baby in our room and ate gluten-free muffins.

I can't blame her too much. I was inordinately excited to see a Starbucks and drank a mocha latte nearly every day.



Koeln Dom

--5--
Katrina actually likes to visit the old churches. She focuses on two things: finding all of the dead people and lighting a candle. Most old cathedrals in Europe have gravestones or entire stone sepulchres around the periphery of the sanctuary or in some sort of crypt underground. The Koeln Dom had both.

I prefer to focus on the loveliness of my daughter praying "for all the people who don't have enough food" than on her demanding I read each and every memorial gravestone and asking me if the body has turned to dirt yet.



-6-
I've been reading Anne of Green Gables to Katrina before bed. The language is a bit over her head, but she still wants me to read it. Probably because Anne Shirley is almost as dramatic as Katrina is. I forgot this about Anne. But if anyone knows about being so excited that nothing else seems important, or suddenly plunging into the "depths of despair" ["what's despair, Mama?"] it would be our Katrina. I, on the other hand, am identifying more with stern Marilla, which is kind of disconcerting. And I seem to be saying "well, now" a lot, which is how Matthew Cuthbert starts every sentence.

-7-
Well, now, the baby has awoken from the longest nap she's had all week. So I'll mention just one more thing: DVR is a dangerous thing. I set it to record "Jon and Kate plus 8," which I've seen only once before. It taped about 20 episodes before I got around to watching. In the past 5 days, I've winnowed that down to about 7. I am a reality television addict. And am REALLY glad I only have singletons. And think that Katrina and Mady are very much alike. In one episode, Mady stomped into the house after school [ON HER BIRTHDAY], kicked a balloon viciously, and went to her room..for no discernible reason. Ah, yes, the school-to-home transition. I know it well.

For more quick takes, check out Conversion Diary

Yes, My 39th Birthday Is Next Week. Why Do You Ask?

I had an interview and I was running late. The dress I had planned on wearing did not fit right. Since I was at my mom and dad's house, my clothing options were limited. Mom tried to find me something appropriate to wear from her closet and from whatever clothing my sister had left behind. But no matter what I tried on--green satin party dress, sleeveless yellow dress, brown slacks of Wendy's with colorful stripes on them--nothing fit me.

I realized that I needed to call Christine W.--a client who had given me work in the past and who was now starting a new editing business--and tell her I would be late. I looked for her number but couldn't find it. I couldn't believe Mom had not written down Christine's number! Finally, I found a scrap of paper with some sort of musical notes on it. "Oh," Mom said, "that's her number. I wrote it down in code." What? I couldn't figure out why she'd do that, or what the code was. Mom finally decoded it for me, and I started to call the number.

It was a white phone with clear buttons, the kind you would have seen in the 70s sitting on a side table. I started punching in the numbers, but got one wrong. I tried again, and again, each time not quite able to get it right. Mom tried to help me, but I could not see the right numbers. Meanwhile, it was growing later and later, and in the pit of my stomach I knew there was no way I would make the interview.

Still, I kept punching at the numbers, getting them wrong each time. I looked down at the slip of paper and read the name of Christine's new editing business: Tempus Fugit Editing.

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.