I will NEVER do that!!!!

Does that ring bell??? Back in the days... the good old days... the good old days without offspring... I would observe parents and many a times that thought would go through my head: " I will NEVER do that!!!!" I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one, but just like millions of parents before me I catch myself doing things I NEVER intended on doing. There still are things I never do... generally, but there are always exceptions to the rule (Our kids sleep in their beds except if they are sick), but with other things I relaxed a bit (Yes, I caught myself once or twice whenI ate something of Ned's food even though it just came out of his mouth... but that was rather accidents, because my mind was elsewhere... ooops).

But one thing I thought I'd NEVER do is trick a kid into eating the "main dish" (meaning veggie and pasta baby food and the kind) with giving desert stuff in between (meaning BANANA and the kind). Well, I NEVER dreamt of having picky eater, no, not me!!! But here I am faced with my little meal-time-drama-queen Cedric. He's going bananas about sweets, which often IS bananas as matter of fact. I guess I shouldn't have started with bananas as his first solid food, but that's what I did with Ned back in the days (when we were in India for 3 weeks). And with Ned we did NOT have any problems whatsoever... he ate like a horse... everything in reach and he thrived well, although he ate normal ship's food pretty quickly, no messing around with him with yucky baby food in jars or trying to cook baby food myself.

Weeeeeellllll, it's a very different story with Cedric. At first he would gag like a stork trying to bring up food for its offspring and more often than not actually succeed, so everything had to be blended down to nothing. He's slightly better now, but every bigger little piece he just pushes out of his mouth and refuses to eat it... except bananas of course... (and paper that is... he's crazy about eating paper... how can you LIKE eating paper but not spaghetti???). Often at the beginning of a meal he eats a couple of spoonfuls of whatever you offer but ones the greatest hunger is killed the drama performance starts. Our little hero throws himself back in his chair and lets out a pathetic little shriek... if you try to chase him with the spoon he throws himself to the sides and tries to hit the spoon inclusive the contents, which he's getting quite good at, to the annoyance of his mother. Well.. it develops into a little hide and seek game or otherwise in a fight of wills, and sadly I am not always the winner... so we started this bad habit of giving him a spoonful of banana (or the like) and afterwards a spoonful of whatever is in the jar filled with baby food. Now you tell me: "But the jars you buy in the shops taste disgusting. Better cook some baby food for him yourself!". Well, that's what I did in the beginning... and he hated what I cooked... except the food which is actually on MY plate. The other day I made Couscous with vegetables and for the fun of it I thought I'd give him some, with spices and all. He LOVED it. Great. When I cooked plain couscous with vegetables for him, he would NOT eat it. Great.

We don't have a drama every meal time though. Sometimes he devours the food, the same kind of food I tried to feed him the previous day and he would not eat. If someone understands that kid, let me know... PLEASE???? Well, as I discovered that he likes what the rest of us eats I thought I'd just give it a go and not worry about salt and spices (we aren't too spicy anyway) and blended it to a mush and he ate like a little champion... so I guess I that's what I'll do.. hang all advise of how to make baby food, mine does really eat it if you stick to it.

He really is a funny one... sometimes I wonder if he is actually Ben's (I mean there isn't really a doubt about that, but you know what I mean): Everyone who knows Ben also knows that he greatly dislikes cucumber, pickles and the like (hate is a strong word indeed), but here is this kiddo, he sees me eating pickles, sour pickles... (I like them, I'm not Ben) and he starts wailing, so I held the pickle to him and he went bananas... he loves sucking the thing... and in between sucking his pickle I can stuff in some regular baby food.

Well, there you go... despise me for not sticking up to my promise NEVER to do such a thing!!!

That's out little star performer: Looking all sweet and innocent!! :o)))

The day my grandmother died.

I had the privilege of having been my Oma's favourite grandchild. I suppose I spend a lot of time at her place and most of the others were far away... and I tell you, she was a dream grandma. Not only could she cook VERY well and had lots of treats at her place, but no, she could also knit like an express train which is a very valuable skill indeed, especially if you're a mother of dolls which needed lots of nice clothes. She not only knitted superb doll's clothes, but also jumpers and socks... I suppose Germans and knitted socks go together like butter and bread and you can see with your mind's eye the typical German wearing some knitted socks in his/her sandal while tourist-ing around the world.... I guess I had my share of knitted socks although I don't fancy them anymore... as matter of fact our dog used to loved grandma's knitted socks as well and would chew them up, he got totally crazy about freshly worn and smelly ones especially,...

...but I digress... uhm... where was I... anyway, I loved my grandma as a kid and spend lots of time at her place.

But oh the cruelty and ignorance of youth, when I got into the... uhm... more difficult time of live (meaning, I became a moody and aweful teenager) I didn't spend as much time at her place anymore, in fact, she slightly annoyed me, even her heavenly cooking.

Around that time my parents moved out. Fancy that... every teenagers secret wish, right??? I was 16 and my brother 5 1/2 years older (he still is 5 1/2 years older, that hasn't changed). They had to move to Berlin because of business and would only come home every 3 or 4 weeks or so. We had a great time. Mainly I lived of package food but once a week we'd eat at grandma's and another day a week at my other grandparents... and Oma would come once or twice a week to clean up, do the laundry and cook. In my ignorance and cruelty it really annoyed me then... but now, ou how wished she could come over now and cook and do the laundry and do some cleaning.... NOW I do appreciate it SO much.

I used to ride a 80cc motorbike. One day I came back from school, parked my bike, walked through the front door and saw her basket sitting there. And my thoughts were: "Ou no, grandma is here!" Ou how I wished I could undo these thoughts and the emotions connected to it, but somehow thoughts and emotions are so much quicker than your brain and often I feel or think things I don't even WANT to think or feel. But before I could go upstairs the phone rang and I went into the office right next to our front door. It was my aunt and she asked me to quickly come down to her place. She lived in the same village, like almost every one of my family back then. So I drove my bike down and then my aunt told me that Oma had had a stroke this morning and had died. She wanted to come up to our place but didn't feel so flash, so she called her friend and asked her to drive her up to our place instead of walking. When she wanted to get out of the car she collapsed and shortly afterwards died in her friends arms. It was a very merciful death thinking about it... no sickness, no pain, no waiting to die, just quickly dying in your friend's arms.

That was back in the year Lady Di died. And Mother Theresa. And just few days later my grandma. The year 1997. Such long time go, 14 years, but I still miss her at times. I'm not exactly sure why I am writing this, but it has been on my mind lately. The regret, that I didn't spend more time with her when I could have done so. The pain over those blasted feelings and thoughts I thought and felt just minutes before I heard she was no more. The wonderfully yummy food.

I think it all comes up now because we're going away... so far, far way... and my other grandparents get older and frailer... so do my parents... so much can happened, so much will happen, good or evil, because that is live. And I regret that I haven't done so many things... why haven't I visited them more often and redeemed the time. Laziness. Ignorance. Cruelty of youth... umm... middle-aged-ness.

The memory of the day my grandma dies is always mingled with this aweful feeling of annoyance and then the pang of guilt and not ever being able to say sorry again. It makes me want to wake up Ned and cuddle him and say sorry I was cross with him for pooing in his knickers once more. It makes me want to run down the hill to the office and tell Ben that I really do love him A LOT. It makes me want to pick up my sleeping baby and squeeze him and hold him tight and say sorry I got upset with him for being drama queen at mealtimes.

Life is so short, precious and fragile and something can happen any time, just look at what happened in Japan... and then you have to live with loss and regret. I often struggle so hard to make life count. You get so tangled up in the nothings of every-day-living that you loose sight of the greater picture. But there is forgiveness... it's just a prayer away. Every single one of us mugs up at times. No one can ever say: "My life was perfect. I regret nothing."

I'm so grateful that there isn't anything "bigger" to regret, thanks to God, and I know my grandma would have forgiven me if she'd known. And He has forgiven me. The memory might always be slightly painful, but I try to do better, although it's so darn difficult.

"LORD, what are human beings that you care for them,
mere mortals that you think of them?
They are like a breath;
their days are like a fleeting shadow"

Psalm 144:3+4

"The LORD is compassionate and gracious,
slow to anger, abounding in love.
He will not always accuse,
nor will he harbor his anger forever;
he does not treat us as our sins deserve
or repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his love for those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

As a father has compassion on his children,
so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;
for he knows how we are formed,
he remembers that we are dust.
The life of mortals is like grass,
they flourish like a flower of the field;
the wind blows over it and it is gone,
and its place remembers it no more.
But from everlasting to everlasting
the LORD’s love is with those who fear him."

Psalm 103:8-17

My strategies for avoiding packing

I know it IS silly thing to do, because it HAS to be done, sooner or later and doing it later rather than soon way too often results in stress and late nights... but looking outside and seeing that BEAUTIFUL spring day... well, I just CANNOT stay indoors. I just LOVE spring. It is my favourite season. And I will miss so much of it, because we'll be moving into Aussie autumn... I mean autumn isn't too bad, but still, I had a looooong winter and just wanna soak up every spring day I can. So, this morning I went running (I mean it's good for me, right???) And this time I went for around an hour and managed around 8km. Maybe for many of you out there this isn't very impressive, but for me it is... I would have never thought I'd EVER run 8km... it wasn't my normal running track so there wasn't a major hill in it, but still there were some ups and downs... but afterwards I didn't even want to think about ever running again ever in my life... now I feel okay about it.

In the afternoons I had to go to the shops quickly and took the bike. The day was so pleasant that when coming home we decided to go for a bike ride. Whichever sporty activity I do, I normally ALWAYS try to do it on as level a ground as I can, but the last couple months I've changed a bit, and although I deeply loath any sort of hills I try to conquer them, so this time for our 45min little tour we went up, up, up... somewhere I'd never been up before... and the reward came when we could go down, down, down again... also a road I had never been on, so that was nice. I should have gone swimming today as well... then I could have said I'm training for a triathlon :o)))) But I didn't go swimming, but Cedric had a bath, does that count??? And he had great fun :o)

Well, I got my new set of teeth yesterday, and I really like them... actually much better then my old ones, so here's a picture of me with the old ones which Mirjam took in Edinburgh

And here my new ones

Well, now I'll do some more packing... I wanted to be kind of finished with the majority before Ned comes back tomorrow... and I have done quite bit already, but my "packing room", the lounge, looks like a disaster struck... I shouldn't say that though... I meant it as matter of describing and it is reality in Japan... it hurts so bad to see those pictures and to think of the hurt and so many people lost everything and I'm complaining about packing...

Packing

Can you see those boxes in the background??? Yepp, I'm packing, but having some special Ced-times is like a spa for the soul

I hate packing, you might know that fact already, but now the meaning of "hate packing" gets a whole new dimension to it: I am packing Ned's things away. While he is gone. At Oma and Opas. I feel dreadful. Not only has every little thing a story to it and I have to decide which is worth keeping, and of the kept things which will go in a box and which will travel with us to Australia. It makes me so sad. Sad for him. Sad for leaving which is now home to us. Sad for leaving my parents and my grandparents behind. I know there are so many wonderful things ahead and I love Australia but still... I'm just sad... deep deep down inside at present. I know it'll change, but I think this is the hardest parting I've ever had in my life.

I'm tired at the end of the day but once I'm in bed this sadness wants to overwhelm me, and panic bubbles up about all the bureaucracy of leaving Germany and not forgetting important things to check out and cancel and stuff.

I'm tired in the morning. Ced developed this aweful habit of not sleeping as long as he used to, I think mainly because he is hungry, because he behaves like a drama queen at meal times and complains rather than eats (who would have thought that such a chubby boy would be such a picky eater... not me). And yes, there are people out there who's kids are getting them up at 5 or so (so I shouldn't complain) but if the day starts at 7 for me I feel crap. Now 8am, that's more like my time, and what we're used to.

Ned knows that something is going on, I'm sure of it. I tried to prepare him, but how to you get the concept of moving to the other side of the world into a almost 3 year old???? I try, but it's difficult for me. He's a very sensitive little boy and the whole situation kind of upsets him. He actually has nightmares, at least I think he has, as he wakes up in the middle of the night screaming his head off for mama. He did that last night for the first time at my parents, and they could not calm him down for at least 30min, they were on the point of calling us. That's not usual for him. And it makes me feel even more sad about what we are putting him through.

There are many, many blessings of cross-cultural marriage, but having to uproot your kids so many times definitely isn't one of them or maybe that's just our way of life.

I know we will cope, but I wonder how long it'll take to settle this time...

So I will go back to packing, before I will have dentist's visit this afternoon and hopefully my new "dinning room" will be finished and done.

hoovering his bed room

My son, the charmer

I must say, there are some advantages of offspring not yet being able to talk: kids can nail down the truth pretty accurately... and Ned being able to talk little sentences by now enjoys doing exactly that, no regards to feelings or anything!!

Yesterday for example he told me that I had a big belly (thank you son!!) and just to enforce that fact he had to tell me again today. When I asked him if he had a big belly too he answered with "No"... bullocks... Then he told me later today that my mouth smells.... okay, I did eat onions, but still... hem... he also commented on the fact that there was a little dirt speck in my face (are you the dirt police or what???)... and when praying for Antie Jill he called her "big Auntie Jill".... obviously he's a real charmer... must come after his dad:o)

Well, and the other boy, how is he doing???

Okay, Cedric really sin't a... uhm... petite or tiny baby... rather quite the contrary... we call his thighs "killer thighs" and came up with the theory that he can sit like a rock thanks to them. But who would have thought that out whopper baby would be a picky eater??? So it came as a big surprise to us... the first couple of mouth fulls are usually okay, but after the big hunger is tamed our happy chappy turns into a little drama queen. He makes himself fall back in and and almost out of his chair, and the tongue tries to push out as much as possible... and if there are junks in it he starts gagging... so meal times turned into fun times, great . But obviously he isn't dying of starvation just yet and continues to be our little Mr. Sunshine.

About buTTs and other things

Yes, buTTs, but more of that later.

Well I survived my birthday, but I actually decided I will be 25 for the rest of my life and only celebrate the amount of years I've been 25... so this year was my 6th year of being 25... that doesn't sound too bad, huu??? But, yes, I do have a bit of a birthday-phobia!!! I don't feel early middle aged... I certainly do NOT behave it, but the wrinkles around my eyes start telling me a different story.... an I do have TWO grey hair, naughty things.

But all in all my birthday was kind of nice. My parents came over. The day was beeeaauuuuutiful with sunshine and blue skies. We went for a bike ride. I think I have never ever gone for bike trip on my birthday before. Although it was cold, it was also really nice and a thing to be repeated... but I suppose my next birthdays will be in summer.... weird...

In the afternoon I went on a mission: NEW JEANS!!! And believe you me... there is (almost) nothing more frustrating than going jeans-hunting in Germany, particularly here in Mosbach.... it makes you scream and pull out your hair and run in circles...

For one, I think they install those aweful and very revealing lights in the changing rooms so that you will be aware of every cellulite dell on your thighs and buy stuff out of depression. But most of all, fashion presently is totally against me and my body shape. You know, with some people those tube jeans look really great, that is, with really slim and skinny people... but they are definately not designed for people who are in possession of a buTT or anything else than tooth-pick-stick-legs. Even many slim girls look like they have a huuuuuge butt in them... and THEY are slim... well if you're not in the category "slim" like me tube jeans are a BIG NO GO!!!!

So, I tried on what felt like a hundred dozens of jeans in I don't know how many different shops and could not find a thing. Well, they were either just, well, to snug around the butt or too long for my legs or the price... well, too much for my wallet to handle.

But what is it actually with girls and butts... it IS rather comical. At least if I try on a pair of jeans, the first thing I try to look at in the mirror is, well.. the butt... I do this kind of twirl around trying to evaluate the other end of me and I was assured by a couple of friends that I am not the only one doing that, in fact it is a universally known fact that girls do that... just like breathing... or having to go to the loo...

I tried to imagine Ben doing it, you know try on some pants (or shorts in his case), turn his butt to the mirror and glance over his shoulders to check it out. It makes me giggle. Boys just don't do that. It's weird. But it's perfectly normal for girls to do. Anyway... I did buy some jeans in the end... my mum has to shorten them by about half a meter so that they fit my short legs, but at least I can breath in them... and sit down... and walk... if I don't stumble over the long legs, that is. I hope Aussie fashion and I get along a bit better... I don't wanna be fashionable though... but I wanna have style... at least a tiny wee bit.

Enough about butts.

Well, I'm glad to inform you that I am the proud holder of an Australian permanent residency, yay!! We got the notification today through email.... and I don't even get a nice, fancy stamp or sticker in my passport, but it's an electronic link to it. Somehow a stamp or sticker in your passport looks more impressive... you can't really show off an electronic link, can you??? (not that I would ever show off anything, hemhem...)

Do you know the character "Jaws" out of one of the old James Bond movies??? It's that guy with the steel teeth... I feel a bit like him... not that I have steel teeth but I'm not the same anymore after a 2h session at the dentist last Wednesday... and boy that hurt, as I said I'd rather give birth again than going to the dentist...ou how good it is that women seem to have short term memory loss when it come to giving birth... but back to my teeth. well, the dentist had to get rid off my old crowns there and prepare me to get new ones in a couple weeks time. In the meantime I have a none-permanent "Crown/bridge" thing which makes me feel like said "Jaws". Okay, mine aren't steel but plastic and I can't kill anyone with a bit, neither am I able to take a bit off an apple or a sandwich or anything, but that thing is so awkward... I always have to try to remember to smile with my mouth closed because a fully on smile is well... not so nice at present. Sigh... but I AM very grateful that I live in a country where they can help me and I don't have to run around without front teeth.

Ned's visit to the dentist had been much shorter. Before going I tried to prepare him but how do you prepare anyone for the dentist??? Well, I used little bribe... uhm... positive enforcement: "If you do really well and let the lady look in your mouth we'll watch 'Shawn the sheep' once we're back home". But going into the room with this funky chair,all those buttons, knives and other pointy things as well as the yells of pain from the neighbouring room CAN be a bit overwhelming for innocent eyes/ears. He grabbed hold on me and would not open his mouth, although he knew "Auntie Leila" privately. Well, so I sat there on a chair, not THE chair though, and offspring on my lap, refusing to open his mouth. I whispered in his ear: "If you open your mouth and let her have look we'll watch 'Shawn the sheep', remember???" I could see his little wheels working in his brain and all of a sudden the mouth snapped wiiiiiiiiddddde open and Auntie Leila could have a good look around. What a good boy... better than me... I always feel like running away when I'm at the dentist, or biting off his fingers that is :o).

Well, living in little Mosbach can be a bit dull at times and you kind of run of ideas what to do. Well, we discovered this REALLY cheap fun activity for the entire family... weeeeelllll... it isn't really an activity as no one is really doing any exercise, but fun it was nonetheless: going through the car wash!!!! It was only 1.99 EUR -and the car desperately needed it- but you SHOULD have seen he eyes of my little boy... unfortunately I didn't bring my camera, but next time I will... although, I think there won't be next time as the car's clean now and will be sold soon...

For the last 3 days or so we also have a baby on the move... he's not only spinning in circles on his belly but started the army crawl, which looks a bit like a caterpillar, but also rather cute :o). Although he seems to have "drama queen" tendencies (watching his brother and DAD too often I suppose), most of the time he's our little sunshine boy :o).