Walking Away

In the search for simplification in packing today, I asked my daughter an interesting question.  What would you like to leave behind?
Her answers were interesting and insightful.  She wouldn't mind leaving behind all but her favorite pair of shoes, that one pair she wants to wear every day that I am not so fond of.  She wants to bring home her bike lock and her coloring book, but other than that, she is ready to leave behind all her toys.  The only category I was eager thin that she wouldn't give on was stuffed animals.  So then I asked her which one she would pick if she could only take one.  First it was the baby doll, then it was the purple stuffed dolphin.  She admitted the crocodile could be left.
After some time her zeal for our game faded and she started telling me what she wanted to keep instead.  So I asked her to pick only four things.  After three she was having to search.  My point is that all this time I thought she would be more upset if we didn't bring these various toys and objects home.
In my life, I feel like I have become jumbled up in all these possessions that we acquire over time.  How I wish I could be like my little daughter, ready to drop almost everything at a moment's notice.  I fret over what I should or shouldn't keep, what I might need later, and how I should get rid of things.  Here in Germany there is no Goodwill, and with the novelty of a different culture we have picked up this and that and now have too much to fit in my luggage.  And there is a portion of me that wants to just leave it all behind rather than taking the time to carefully pack it and lug it through the airport.
To be able to gracefully and quickly let go of all but a few things that are useful to who I am today - that is certainly a virtue I would love to rekindle.

On another note, I think have secretly been trying to teach my kids to love things, without noticing it.  Bred out of the simple desire to have my children appreciate their blessings, I find us saying things like, "You better eat up, this is the last time we'll ever get to eat doner."  Do I really think my kids will miss it that much?  Perhaps I encourage in them the very flaws that now haunt me as I try to pack to go back to the states.  The idea that I will be sorry when something is gone, that I will miss it - most often, when I observe my children I find that this is rarely true.  Perhaps a fleeting desire for old things pops up.  I find it to be the worst though when I get rid of something that I don't like but I know they do.  How is that fair?  Of course I would be upset if you took away one of my favorite things.  But I think that for fear of such feelings I often hold onto things that have long since fulfilled their purpose or hold little meaning to me.
There are many reasons we hold onto things, but I hope as I pack I can be a little more like a child and learn to let go without batting an eye.  Because it sure is better to travel with a lighter load.

It's the Final Countdown!

    Grandma Olsen asked about school and church after my last post.  I haven't said a lot about it because not much was going on.  I did not receive a calling here because, as the bishop puts it, three small children is a calling.  I do occasionally get asked to fill in odd jobs though, like in nursery during ward conference or playing the piano.  Jeff, on the other hand, was called as a secretary in the elders quorum.  His first question was how could he be a good secretary without complete fluency in German!  I think it will be a learning experience and a good opportunity to increase his language skills.  Sometimes it can be hard to get people to converse with you in German here!

   School for Jeff has been going for several weeks now.  I think he is finding fall term a little more rewarding and settled than summer.  The students that made up the summer program were from all around the globe, and as you can guess, they were here more to experience the culture than to learn anything they couldn't have learned at home.  I think the particular flavor of "lets party!" did not mess well with our personal goals.  We really are here to study international law and business.  Also, our idea of experiencing German culture can vary quite a bit from the average student in the summer program (think drinking...).  With our small kids in tow, we go to parks, the pool, the zoo, church activities, and eat German food, and a healthy helping of Turkish sandwiches too!  While other students are at the bar "networking," Jeff is at home helping with the kids.  So you can see how there was a little bit of a feeling of disillusionment and disconnect between us and the other students that was frustrating at times.  We have far more responsibilities in life, and that is just a fact, and I think that makes us much more serious and goal oriented.  We have fun too, but our definition of fun is different.
   At the start of fall term, it was asked for a show of hands who was married.  Out of about 110 students, only Jeff raised his hand.  A bit awkward, but at least people know not to hit on my husband now!  Even so, fall term has been different so far.  There is more of a vibe of studiousness coming from the students I get to meet and the program in general.

  The real reason I started writing this post today, though, was to ask for some opinions about schooling in general.  Fall classes for OSU started this Monday.  I'll admit insanity - I signed up.  I can already hear the groans.  I know, I have three kids three and under, a husband in law school, and we live in a foreign country!  How could I possibly take on any more?  I should just stick to surviving.  This is what I hear you say in my head.    However, I currently have access to some of the best, most affordable childcare in the world.  I don't want to put all my kids in, but having Ariana there part of the time is a wonderful thing, because the other two kids are much less mmm...demanding (I don't want to make my child sound bad, but she can be very high maintenance and draining).  Even if I don't go to school, she is attending the Kita three days a week.  She loves it there and comes home covered it all sorts of craft supplies.  I think that with this arrangement, part time school would not be very difficult.  I signed up for full time though, because it is easier to drop classes than to get in last minute.  Another factor that pushes me to try to take classes every term is that I really feel silly with three fourths of a degree.  The closer I get to the end the harder it becomes, but it feels like I would be wasting years of work not to finish.  I know that I still have the knowledge and experience gained from that time, but there is something about getting a piece of paper that says you made it that I'm sure is very fulfilling.
   After looking over the books for the courses that have come in the mail, I have a dilemma though - I've realized I can't stand my major!  Some background - I was never quite sure what I wanted to do with my years of schooling and so I have floundered around for 3 of the four theoretical years it takes to get a degree.  I never really wanted to train for a vocation, I just wanted to be well educated.  So I am.  I have taken everything from History of Science to advanced levels of calculus, from hip hop dance to Entrepreneurship.  But I do not have enough of any one kind of knowledge to achieve that golden little piece of paper that is supposed to be the point.
  I am also hampered in by the fact that I do and will always put the well being and happiness of my children first.  This has made me wonder on occasion if I should even bother finishing, because it makes me stressed and crabby and I sometimes take that out on them.  However, I know that I was very inspired by the fact that my mother was college educated, and I feel that my children deserve to know by example how I feel about becoming an educated person capable of understanding at a greater depth the world around them.  Not only do I benefit myself by becoming better, I benefit my posterity.  Long-winded and lofty, but that is my thinking.
  Putting my kids first to me means not sending them to childcare.  We've tried it, and it was horrible for the whole family.  It put stress and strain on each individual and on our relationships with each other.  This means that a traditional degree achieved by showing up in class everyday is not suitable.  Fortunately, OSU has a great online program which allows me to stay up till three in the morning learning economics while my children sleep.  On the other hand, many of the degrees that would have been some of my first choices are not offered because of the difficulties of online classes and their relatively lower popularity.  Like math.  I was going to study math.
To make a very long story short...math, business, HDFS.  Like math, but don't want to be a teacher and the math department will never give you your pin to sign up for classes.  The Business school hands out pins like candy <3.  Want to start a business, but adviser tells me "our program sucks for that (really, WTH do you teach then?!) get different degree with a minor in business then an MBA instead,"  OKAY... so I switched to Human Development and Family sciences after taking a child development course and a parenting research course and really liking them.  Probably because I have kids.  (I even get bored telling the whole story of my major woes and flip flops in person!)
  I have not officially changed my major yet from business (because it is soooo easy to get your pin from the business school) but I had already shifted the focus of my course loads for the last two terms to HDFS, which can be completed all online through a new major they added this year.  BUT.....
  I signed up for Family Violence and Neglect.  There are three different texts for this course, all with pictures of sad children on the front.  I read through one of the books and had nightmares all night, and I will never be able to get some of those stories out of my brain.  Thanks a lot!!  But more than that, I realized that all this major does is train you to work for DHS (and those people, while I appreciate what they do, sort of, I would rather die than have their job!).  Okay, so I am a bad person for not wanting to help poor in money and poor in brain people along in life via distributing government programs.  I hate it and I am okay with that.  Now that I take another look at the course requirements for the major I realize that I was just fooling myself that I would like these courses.  Torture would be a better word.  (I'm paying money for this, so I think it should at least be useful and enlightening, not something I loath and dread).  But now what am I supposed to do to get that illustrious piece of paper at the end of the rainbow??
  Here is how I have narrowed it down.  I don't know what I want to do, or even if I want to study to pursue a career later.  But I do want to finish.  And I don't want to stress, I want to learn.  And I don't want to put my kids in childcare much.  So - online and part time is the verdict so far.
  The online degree program has 13 available degrees (just another sign for those of you who are superstitious that I should obviously quit now!).  I narrowed that down to Economics, Sociology, and maybe Environmental Science.  And I am leaning toward Economics, even though is seems like it might be somehow sinful to study money all day.    All these degrees can be finished online, probably in two years or so doing only part time.  And I really need to decided, like today, so that my Family Violence books stop haunting me, and I don't get charged any extra tuition.  But it's a decision that will affect me for the rest of my life and I can't afford, quite literally to pick wrong again...ARG! *Stephanie disappears in a whirlwind of frustration and anxiety*

If you have made it to the end of this rambling, please congratulate yourself by adding extra length to it!  I would really like to know:
Did you go to school and finish?  What did you study, and how did you choose it?  For example, was it required to take a basic course, and then you liked that course so you continued?  Did you take a minor, or just use your electives to study different things that you were interested it, or more coursework for your major because you really loved it that much?
Did you feel like you learned what you wanted to, or did you just feel like you were jumping through hoops to get a job at the end?

 

The next great adventure...

We have been living abroad for almost three months or so now, so I guess the new had rubbed off of good ole Hamburg. The travel bug bit us again, and we decided to take off for the great and beautiful north. Our first stop was the northern tip of Denmark. Okay, so we could have seen waves coming together on some other beach, but these waves were from two different bodies of water! We rode on a trailer dragged by a huge tractor (okay, a little un-romantic, but a little cool in a big monster truck sort of way). Jeff and the kids made a little sand castle, then we rode back.

Next, we stayed in Copenhagen. We paid lots of money to stay in a tiny room with two bunk beds. The next morning we took the bus into the center of town. The bus deposited us in the biggest gay-pride party of all time! I think if I ever see rainbow colored ice-cream (or anything else of that color pattern) again, I will run away screaming. We tried to follow a walking tour of the city, but aparently in was designed around the sponsoring businesses, so after a while we left the path to hit up the free Danish museum. Free exhibit, super expensive everything else. We walked through looking at old stuff while our kids ran around screaming until we couldn't take it anymore. After looking at the price of food there, we left and meandered around town some more. After walking past yet another canal, Ariana piped up that she would like to go on a boat. This is a more common request than you might think, but this time we gave in. We paid for the nearby boat tour that took us around canals and out into the harbor, to take a look at such things as the royal palace, the naval base, and some really old buildings. The tour guide repeated everything in three languages (danish, english, spanish?) and still didn't get any tips at the end! We had eaten some pastries with hot dogs in the middle and a red sauce (sold by 7 eleven of all things, but it was something local). After that we tried to make it back to the bus stop. Between us and the bus stop: "Tolerance Block Party." I can't exactly describe what it was like to try to push our way through the throng of multicolored, undulating drunk party-goers with a stroller configured for three children. Lets just say it passed like a bad dream. Or like what I always imagined a person on LSD sees while they are hallucinating. Really colorful and so weird you don't believe your eyes. We finally made it to the bus stop on the other side of the huge celebration and headed for the hotel.

After we made it back, we decided to visit the temple in Copenhagen. It is a beautiful brick building with a small garden area that looked so peaceful in the evening hours. We were glad for the visit even though it was closed.

We continued on our journey the next day straight through Sweden. Yes, straight through. There is nothing wrong with Sweden, we just couldn't find an ATM. We drove all the way to Oslo in Norway and had to pay for gas and toll roads with a credit card.

We didn't actually stay in Oslo, but in a hotel near the airport about half an hour's drive from the city. The next morning we drove back into Oslo to spend the day. First we hurried to see the changing of the guards at the palace. We saw some of the royal gardens (and the "royal ducks" in the royal pond). Then we walked down to the harbor and had ice cream and hot dogs at a playground built on the docks. We walked up to the fortress, but by that point in the day the buildings were closed, so we just looked at the view. We came back to the car to find a parking ticket (apparently we hadn't quite understood the directions of the hotel staff...or the signs in Norwegian).

Today we left the hotel and drove north. And drove, and drove. And drove. We drove through mountains, passed valleys and lakes, all of it breathtaking. Don't get me wrong, cities have their perks. I just can't seem to remember what any of them are when I'm out in a small town or the country-side.

You have never seen beauty until you have seen Norway. We are staying in a small guesthouse somewhere around the middle of Norway in a town of about 240 residents. Our window looks out on one of earth's greatest wonders - a fjord. Now, call me uneducated, but up until about eight hours and sixteen minutes ago, I didn't give a hoot about a fjord. Sure I had heard of them. I could probably have told you geographically what one was and how they are formed. But up until now I had not seen one. Today, I have seen one after another, after another. I am happy to be able to soak up their beauty for the next couple of days, unadulterated by the normal touristic buzz that seems to seep into every travel experience and ebb away some of the magic of the moment and the place. We are staying on a fruit farm in the middle of nowhere, and we have already eaten at the only available food establishment in the area, in the next town over. Most visitors just cook meals from groceries bought at a small store, just like the locals. I love it! Also, we had to take a ferry just to get here, which was cool in and of itself.

It has been a little hard to stay in regular sized hotel rooms with an anything but regular sized family (it's almost 11 and the kids are still going strong). But today made it worth it.

This is the ferry that took us across the fjord. They even packed a tour bus on. One the other side you land and drive straight into a tunnel.

Here is the view from our window and balcony to the right side. Eplet bed and apple started taking guests and making juice in 2004. The building was built by the family in 1945. The other hotel in this small area has been owned and operated by the same family since 1690 (it opened in 1640), but the mystical powers of the internet brought us to this one :> .



Ella has spent many a travel day cooped up in her car seat. Because we don't have a car in Germany, this is a new and rather traumatic experience for her. But she is very glad to be out and to get to be held again now that we are here in Solvorn. Apparently she learned a new trick in those many hours though. She can get her feet to her mouth in a little less than 3 seconds. And I checked....she is completely uninterested in her feet if you take those socks off. I have to keep changing them because she soaks them.

We are so grateful to the many people who helped see us off, and especially our family. We miss you guys!

Go ahead and laugh...

...because honestly, life here is hilarious sometimes.

Like the time I was at the Kita to see about Ariana starting there. The head lady invited me into the office and suavely offered me some water after we were seated. Water sounded like the best thing in the world because I was thirsty, so of course I said yes. But when I got it to my lips, it wasn't what I would call water at all. Try club soda? Perrier? But not water. So here I am trying to look equally suave and not choke on the stuff. I set it down and don't drink any the rest of the time. So embarrassing after my obvious enthusiasm over the water. And I keep wondering how they stand this stuff. Or how any of them have any teeth left if their main source of moisture is highly acidic. Ah, the mysteries of the universe. (...oh wait, there's always alcoholic drinks. Truly the main source based on my observations.)

Then we invite over dinner guests from our ward at church. And guess what, they didn't even touch our bottled water the whole time they ate. We buy our water bottled in France so it has no carbonation, and the package gives it away. It's one of the only ways to get truly regular, good tasting water around here. If you buy a local brand, even if it is labeled natural, it still hisses when you open it, and carbonic gas is listed in the nutritional facts, only in smaller quantities. We were trying to be fancy with bottled water instead of tap, but I guess I forgot to cater to my guests' tastes.

In fact, one of the first things I learned how to say when we arrived in Germany was "ohne Kohlensaeure," without carbonation. The second was "ohne Zwiebeln." I use that phrase almost every week. It means no onions.

So admittedly my tastes are a little different than your average European. But I'm getting over it...with lots of laughter.

The Tick

Let me begin with the good news before the bad. Yesterday was wonderful. My friend Miriam offered to take the kids at the last moment so we could see Harry Potter in the theater. Our original plan had been to alternate watching the kids. So we got to have a wonderful date and eat Italian ice cream together and watch a movie in German.

But the day before that...well not so good. Jeff went out at 8 pm to meet some church members to play Axis and Allies. Of course, they wanted him to play America, and they were fighting over who would be Germany. Jeff and Tobias played as UK and US and beat them soundly. While this was going on, I was at home with the kids. We played at the park, then read stories and went to bed. I was nursing Ella, laying on my side, and a spot near my knee started really hurting. She wouldn't go to sleep and wouldn't go to sleep. Finally I had to go to the bathroom so bad that I couldn't hold it anymore, and I left her in bed crying while I went out to use the restroom. As I sat on the toilet, that same spot again hurt, and I looked down and there was something that looked like a rock embedded in my skin, which was all red and irritated. A closer look and I nearly passed out. A huge tick the size of an apple seed or bigger was dug down in my skin, and the swelling around him covered him nearly half way. I took off my pants and grabbed my phone to call Jeff. I looked up online how to take one out, but I was too upset to do it by myself, and I didn't know where the tweezers were, and it hurt to walk. So I just sat there for over an hour, avoiding looking at the tick and trying to get Jeff to answer his phone and crying like a really big wimp.

Meanwhile, Jeff, sitting around the game table with the guys, had just finished the first game and was about to start a second. He reached in his pocket to check the time on the phone, and saw that I was calling at that very moment. His phone had been on silent since church on Sunday and he had not realized it. When he talked to me I was so upset that he thought I said I had gotten at "ticket" at first. Tobias drove him home, and told him what he had learned at his most recent first aid class, to just pull the tick straight out instead of trying to use a match or anything. Apparently if you upset them, they inject their meal back where it came from, significantly increasing the risk of contracting a disease. So I spent the next two hours worrying about what horrible diseases I might get, and by three am I fell into bed exhausted. We saved the tick neatly in a baggy, even though he is mostly smushed. We couldn't ever find the tweezers, so Jeff used his multi-pliers. I guess you can have them tested for what diseases they were carrying, although I doubt we will have the time, energy, or funds to do that in a foreign country. I was totally scared by the incident, and wasn't really excited to go back to the park any time soon. Then Jeff made me feel worse by saying that it was much more likely that I got it on our walk on Saturday through an area with long grass and dogs playing. So that means the tick would have been there for days, and that's why he was so big. GROSS! Also, because of the air drying our laundry, I have been trying to wear my pants for several days, so I never would have noticed till it hurt like that.

Anyways, not very fun, but definitely some excitement. Next time I will not make so much fun when Ann Marie gets a tick and is wailing about it.

Ella's Baby Picture

I know that every mother thinks that their baby is the most beautiful baby on the planet Earth, but that in no way stops me from feeling the exact same way. I wanted to share my favorite coming home picture of Ella. Okay, she was a week old already. But when you are doing your own pictures it takes a little while to feel up to anything. She just looks so dainty in with the daisies.


There. See? I really do have the most beautiful baby in the world (at least in my world, you can't argue about that). Now if we could only get her to sleep like this all the time...

The Hagenbeck Tierpark, aka. "The Zoo"

On Saturday we decided to go to the Zoo. We decided at about 8:15. We started getting ready in earnest at 9:00. We didn't arrive at the Zoo until almost noon. That's how long it takes us to move around with three kleine Kinder. Between leaving and arriving, we took a bus and two trains, for a total of almost an hour's travel both ways. And we were fully loaded with everything we would need for the entire day, included two diaper bags stuffed with cloth diapers and wipes, snacks to decrease our food costs, and a coat and water bottle for each person.

It didn't even all fit in the stroller. But we were determined to have fun...even if it killed us.

On the way in we found a small stand selling uniform looking white plastic sacks. Most of the visitors were buying them, so I quickly pointed it out to Jeff to go talk to them (I tend to avoid talking to anyone, so as not to have to mince German so badly they kick me out of the country). It turns out the bags were full of precut food for the animals, such as carrots, apples, leafy greens, and cucumbers. For a couple euros you could purchase a bag and feed certain animals in the park, and the money went to the care of the animals. We bought two bags. Although you could feed many animals, such as the monkeys, by far the most exciting were the elephants. They would reach out to grab the food from you and pop it in their mouth as quick as possible so they could reach for more. Everyone got a turn, but David didn't want anything to do with the elephants. I got my hand wet from its' trunk.

We stopped shortly to look at the monkeys and throw them a few veggies. (Perhaps Ari is on the wrong side of the glass?) Then we booked it over to the other side of the park for the Giraffe feeding that started at noon.

At the giraffe area was an elevated walkway where you could stand at the giraffes' head level. A volunteer for the zoo had a wheelbarrow full of leaves for the giraffes. For a nominal donation we each got a handful of leaves to feed them. Jeff took the kids up first, then it was my turn.

Jeff had tried to get David to feed the giraffes when he went up, but David was scared, same as the elephants. When I went up with him, I saw that the giraffe had quite the reach, so I picked David up and just held him so he wouldn't expect anything. The giraffe came and took the entire branch of leaves right out of his hands. Ariana, on the other hand, was so short and had so many people in front of her that the giraffe didn't really seem to notice her. And she was practically jumping up and down waving her leaf and calling to it. So it was really quite funny when the giraffe finally did notice the leaf dancing up and down and eat it, because Ariana let out a scream and started crying. She had to be comforted to calm down. I know, shame on me for finding it funny, but she had already been feeding the giraffe just fine before that, it just surprised her.

Ella was content to hang out in the stroller for a good portion of the day, and I was glad not to have to carry her. As you can see, I dressed her up for the occasion. Those are little monkeys on her shirt. Ella's favorite part of the trip was when we went back to the elephants later in the day to feed them some more. She kept turning her head to look at them intently.

Next, Ariana got to go on a pony ride. She had the biggest grin on her face when she got off. She also got to pet the pony's head, although she moved a little quickly for its' liking.

Here is David checking out the flamingos. We had to keep a good eye on him because there was nothing between him and the water. Flamingos are one of my favorite zoo animals, but this zoo had a couple of new tricks up its sleeve, like some cute baby grizzly bear cubs tumbling and playing together. The tropical animals are actually kept in a separate huge building with its own admission. So when it started pouring down rain, as it often does in Hamburg, we headed inside.

Here is what greeted us first inside - lemurs. This is also one of my new favorite exhibits. You walk into a room that is full of lemurs playing and doing whatever they please, including using one guy's shoulders as a stepping stone to another perch! You couldn't touch them, but they could run around you. It was really cool. We didn't get a very good picture because they were always on the move. There was also an incredibly cute baby lemur in the group.

Towards the end, everyone was getting a little tired and cranky, especially because the stroller had to be left outside of the "aquarium." We sat down to eat some snacks and then headed back outside. We visited a few more animals, ate dinner, and then it was time to go home. Of course, by that time the kids were exhausted and the hour long train ride home was a royal pain. But that's another story (and one not really worth recounting).

As you can tell, I love having a phone with a camera now. And we will probably be headed back to the zoo sooner rather than later - feeding the animals was a big hit.

Raining Cats and Dogs

To start off with, let me tell you that it rains in Hamburg. It rains in most places on the planet. But here, it RAINS. Several times we have been caught out and come home looking like drowned sewer rats. There is even thunder and lightning most of the time.
So on Friday, I had my eye on a second hand kids store. I had discovered that David isn't really a size two yet. He will turn two in less than a month, and yet size-wise he is very far from it. But packing, I did not know that. So I only filled his bags with size two clothes. I figured around his birthday he should fit them. Here they do size by centimeters height, which makes me feel a little bit better about my son. So I took a flimsy paper measuring tape I had pocketed from our trip to Ikea and measured the little guy. He comes in at about 82cm, which supposedly corresponds to 12-18 months (the size of clothes I left at home because I though they would quickly be too small). No wonder the 2Ts swim on him.
I like to shop second hand in general because it is easy on your wallet and good for the planet. I also find that some of the stuff in the stores is not even worth buying the first time, whereas second hand goods have already merited purchase once. But, the sad thing is that there don't seem to be many of these type of stores in Hamburg. So, we took an hour long train ride to get to one that was listed online. The whole time, David's shorts kept falling off, so much so that when we got to the store we just left them around his ankles. We bought him three pairs of pants and four shirts to last him till his next growth spurt (which I hope comes soon!). I guess I will have to step up how often I do laundry. We also got Ari a cute dress, and Elle a little monkey outfit. All of which was way overpriced for used children's clothes. My plan is to interrogate some of the people in my ward, because there must be a way. The way I see it, if they choose to have kids at all, Germans are only having one or two. If I were only going to have one or two kids, I would want the best stuff (which, in my theory, is why they put up with these ridiculous prices), and then, I wouldn't know very many other people having kids to give them to, and more than likely, they've already bought something themselves (so that they too can have the best). So in my hypothetical world there would be lots of perfect, expensive, cute clothes floating around that no one had a use for. Thus, the market would dictate that they would be readily available for the poor minority groups having lots of children to snatch up. And yet there seem to be almost no second hand stores. So I must be missing something.
Having seen the rain, we bit the bullet and bought Ari and Cyrus two raincoats (which also go for an arm and a leg...and maybe some other body parts too). Stupidly, these coats have no hoods, even though they are supposedly the best. And no rain pants, which were sold with every other jacket. So I'm starting to feel duped. Meanwhile it has rained each day since Friday. Today we forgot them, and it starting raining during church. Did I mention we do a LOT of walking. So now I have to find some place that might sell rain hats, and maybe rain pants that can be purchased separately from the jackets. I am getting a sour feeling about it. Or I can just buy Ari her own little umbrella.
All the humidity in the air isn't doing much for my laundry. When we moved in, the landlord showed us a single h.e. washing machine in the basement (more like a dank dungeon), where we could do laundry for 1 euro 50, then hang it to dry on lines. By the way, h.e. is code for takes FOREVER. One load can take over 3 hours on the most "energy efficient setting. I had several problems with this setup. In the US I averaged a load a day. 1.5 with cloth diapers. And I brought cloth diapers with me as the plan here. Also, that basement smelled awful. I doubt my clothes would ever dry in that space, and if they did, they would smell like that. Also, that basement screamed the perfect place for me to get mugged and for the kids to get hurt monkeying around while they waited for me to get done. Jeff talked to the landlord and they agreed that he would pay for half the cost of a new washing machine in the apartment, and we would pay for the other half. Then he would get to keep it when we left, to improve his rental. So now we have a nice washer. And at least it is in the apartment, even if it still takes as much as three hours to merely wash one load.

The next hurdle to laundry was that there was no dryer. This is a first in my entire life. Our first two loads were stretched over every available surface in the apartment. It was embarrassing to have my undies draped over the lamp for all to see. That night I searched online for indoor self standing clothes racks on Amazon (because we didn't want to string line in the apartment). There were wonderful models. But they cost 160 Euros to ship to our home. Back to the drawing board. We figured there must be a way if this is how they do things in Europe.

The next day Jeff found some metal racks at the local "Kaufland" (kaufen = to buy). So then we had racks. They are pretty nice, and relatively cheap (10 euro vs. 500 for a dryer). What previously covered our entire living room and every door, chair and table fit neatly into only one rack. I only wish I had maybe one more, because this is the main choke point for the laundry now. We are still not washing it faster than we are wearing it because of the drying time. Not that I want my entire living room given over to these racks, but it is certainly better than going naked. We have a small balcony, but I haven't seen anyone else put their laundry outside, and Jeff said some cities have laws about it.

The other interesting thing about the laundry is that they don't sell Tide here. I guess it comes as no surprise that when I grew up and moved out I just kept using the kind of detergent (and toothpaste) that my mom had. So now, I am at a loss. Right now I am trying Persil. I decided on that because it came in tablets, and I read enough of German to know that the other package didn't come with a scoop. You could get one for free online, but I needed to do laundry that day. I don't like using the new kind. I think it smells funny, bordering on stinking. I set our new washer to run an extra rinse (the controls are all in German too, so it took a little bit of doing), and that seemed to help. Also, there seems to be a lot more delineation on what the soaps are for, which I can't really make out as easily. Some are for white, some colors, some delicate, some wool, etc. I had to ask a church member which of the many bottles on the shelf was a stain remover. Because not only do I not recognize the brands, I don't even know the word for it. This is the part about being in Germany that makes me feel worn out and home sick. But there are so many things that are enjoyable and worthwhile that I am sure we will miss when we leave too. As I was shopping for the clothes drying racks online, many people said how they love the feel of line dried clothes. I can't imagine. To me they are very stiff and scratchy. But maybe we will even miss that when we finally head back to the States. Who knows?

About our living arrangements...

I thought I would take a few minutes while the kids are "napping" (aka. incarcerated in their rooms in the hopes that they will come out more obedient) to tell you about our apartment. Because, lets face it, our apartment is weird.

Many Germans, maybe most, live in apartments. I guess owning a home is something you do when you are fifty-something, or not at all. So we see lots of apartment buildings. Even so, they save lots of room for green space. I think they give up the space they would have used for parking. I see lots of cars on the side of streets, and lots of ramps to park under buildings and houses.

Also, when we managed an apartment building, we almost always had a vacancy. Here, the market is so tight that we would call from the US to ask about an apartment, and it would already be rented. They were always rented within 24 hours. This played a major factor in why we chose a furnished apartment, because we could actually rent one. We called, and they said yes. Well, the first 5 or ten places said no because of the kids and the cat.

After we had arranged to rent an apartment, and paid the first month so that it would be held for us, we were still not sure if we had talked(and given 1000 euros) to a simple German man trying to make a living, or to some scammer in Nigeria. About a week before we left, we tried to contact him through email - no answer. Then we were really worried. Finally, Jeff was able to call him. He remembered our names, and that we had three kids and a cat. So our hope of arriving in Germany and having somewhere to sleep was at least partially restored.

After we arrived in the airport, as I mentioned earlier, some members picked us up with a van and a car, and drove us to our new apartment. Our German landlord was there waiting for us with his wife. She looked like she was dressed up to go out to dinner, and later they admitted they were indeed going out to eat. My guess is that they were celebrating the arrival of their tenants. Seven months is a long time for a furnished apartment to be rented, and I am guessing they were a little nervous about us too.

When we first got our address, we thought that the "b" at the end signified our individual apartment. But it actually refers to the entire half of the building, all accessible through one entrance (shown above). Our mail is delivered through a slot in our apartment door because it has our name on it. We haven't actually gotten any mail yet, but the kids are enamored with the slot. They have also tried to peek into other peoples' apartments through their mail slots.

Another interesting thing about the building layout is that outside the main door is a panel of doorbells, with last names listed next to them. However, our doorbell doesn't work. So, several times when people have come to visit us, they have had trouble. When we first arrived and still had jet lag we slept through the bishop trying to stop by.

In the first couple of days we only had one set of keys. Almut took me out to go grocery shopping with her car, and when we got back we couldn't get in. Jeff had fallen asleep, and we discovered the doorbell problem. We buzzed a neighbor to get in the building, the went and pounded on the door till Jeff woke up. Our keys are sticky, not literally, but sometimes you can be standing outside the door key in hand and still not be able to get in. The inside of the door has at least 4 different ways to lock it, including a chain, and a long, thick bar that goes all the way across the door. We feel no need for these, and have not even tried to use them, especially with all the trouble we have with the regular locking mechanisms. We don't want to be locked out or in.

Here is our front door. We are on the European "first" floor, which is one up from the ground level. In our particular building though, we are only about 4 to 5 feet up from the ground. It still means we have to drag the stroller up a small flight of stairs to get in our apartment, and we also have a little balcony off our living room. In fact, almost all the apartments we looked at renting had balconies, so I think they are popular.

So we have a key to the main door, and a key to our front door. The key to the main door also opens the trash outside. The recycle is regular plastic cans like I'm used to at home (except they are covered with instructions in German about what should be recycled or not), and they are not locked. Jeff thought this was funny, because it says a lot about the culture here. They are really big into recycle, and in the city parks there are recycle cans right next to the trash cans. I always have to look inside to tell which is which, even though I think they are color coded. In the airports the waste is divided into four receptacles, but at least they are also labeled in four or five languages. It took nearly three minutes to instruct Ari how to throw away her apple core because I didn't want to get up and walk over to the trash can and point to the correct hole. Finally she got frustrated and gave up and brought it back to me. The second time she was able to do it.

The first thing I noticed coming into the apartment was the wood ceilings. I guess we wouldn't have seen them in the pictures in the online listing, because they didn't take any at that angle. The real wood ceilings are especially ironic because the floor is a fake wood of a completely different color and texture. Also, all the furnishings are this lighter color of fake wood too. When we went to IKEA, we saw every single item in our house except for the couch. Everything - down to the last spoon, rug, and towel.

One of the nice things about our apartment is that even though we live abutting a rather busy street, we don't hear much. As you can seen in the window here, the building is made out of brick. And the windows are very solid too. Even when the windows are open, it is usually just pleasant white noise. I only notice when an ambulance goes by with sirens, or when one driver gets really mad at another and lays on their horn (by the way, they drive...well, rather crazy here, by my perspective).

When we rented our apartment, I had really wanted to find one that had a tub, because I prefer being able to take a relaxing bath after battling an army of small children all day, rather than remaining on my feet. But the first priority was to find an apartment that would even take that small army - so in the end, no tub. The shower has a little basin at the bottom that we can fill with water and let the kids play. It even has a drain stop that is a round metal tube, so that once the water reaches a certain level, then it will drain. It gives them about 4 or five inches to play in. The shower surround looks nice, but is very flimsy, and the doors will not stay shut because it is not lined up quite right. So often when you get out of the shower, the toilet area is soaked, and you say "Oops, not again." My kids are having to get used to the floors. They slip when they are wet or when they run in their footie pajamas.

Okay, one last thing and then I have to quit, even though there is still more to be said about our apartment. Our water is heated by an instant heater. At first we thought this was the most brilliant idea even - unlimited hot water. However, that's about all you can get is hot or cold. So getting the right temperature to expose your skin to for a shower can be a little bit like solving a rubix cube. You turn it on scalding then thy to work your way down without turning the heater off. Once I was washing my hands and I turned the water off right as the heater lit up. This caused the pilot light to go out. By the time 8 hours had gone by Jeff was desperate. He wanted a shower bad, because he had been walking around town all morning and was sweaty. And we had tried everything those stupid instructions in German might possibly have translated to, all to no avail. We had to call the landlord and have him come show us how to do it. So that's the bathroom. In the kitchen is this ancient nondescript box mounted above the sink. Jeff figured out that you turn the knob, press the button and wait for the water to heat up. If you wait too long it boils over. It has just enough in it for a sink full of dishes. Then you have to run it again if you want warm water rinse with. But again, I think there's only really hot and cold. I'm not sure there's a good way to mix and get warm running out of the tap.

So, that's just the short list. I figured you already knew that the windows open two ways here, depending on how the handle is turned, and they have no screens. And I figured you probably also already knew that the power plugs are different. The only other thing that was shockingly different, and hard to get used to, was the size of the kitchen (and its appliances). If my weight corresponds to the size of my kitchen, as it affects the amount of food coming in and being stored and prepared, then I am sure that very shortly I shall be as skinny as I ever hoped. My plan is to go the store just about every day. It gives the kids something to do. I don't think we could go more than three days without starving to death. Luckily, we are still in the habit of stocking up, because the last couple of holidays (where the stores are closed), caught us unawares. By day three I thought I just might float away in the wind.

Anyway, this has taken me two or three days to finish, so by now we actually have received some mail, which was really exciting to see a pile of paper dumped on the floor. Maybe I will blog again soon. I have some more German tests coming up that I'm sure will eat me alive time-wise, but then I have also been up to some really fun things that I'd love to tell about before I forget, like taking the kids on their first trip sans-stroller, or going to a German course offered by the city for free for ladies (housewives). I also hope I will have the chance to write again soon because Ella seems to be feeling a little better, although now her sleep schedule is all out of whack again. Anyhow, now you know that we are still alive.

German Exams in Germany

So, a confession of my follies. I decided to take a German class to brush up before we came. No wait, I was flattered into taking a German class by a professor who is retiring. Yes, when Herr Stehr said sure you can take 213 ( even though I hadn't taken 211 or 212) my Ego jumped and said "YES! You can because you're so smart and diligent!" Oh boy. I must admit I am mortified to divulge the inner workings and little voices that live inside my brain. One would obviously know that at that moment I should have been struck by a bolt lightning for thinking such self-gratifying nonsense. No good can ever come of such thoughts.

Now maybe I can write off my stupid decision as pregnancy brain, but that made the situation all the worse. I guess Herr Stehr has never been pregnant or given birth, or been the primary caregiver for a newborn (okay I'm assuming here, but I think they're pretty safe assumptions). So, when he said, you can do it, I know you and you are a good student, he wasn't factoring in all those details that seemed so distant and minute at the time.

So, fast forward to last night. I am sick with flu-like symptoms (and so is the baby), and here I am feverishly studying German at 2;15 am German time....so that I can take a test, proctored by Jeff (lol), to scan with the bishop's scanner, to send to Herr Stehr, by today, because today is the last day he can give me an incomplete. That has to be the lamest thing I have done in my short life so far. I hope not to ever top it.

By the time Jeff had driven off to the bishop's house and been gone 5 minutes, I had already thought of three mistakes I had made. Luckily, I am still wanting to laugh, rather than dissolving into tears. Just capital dumb. And the irony of it all, being in Germany.

Also, I knew I didn't have enough time to properly learn the German this time, so I had to memorize the sentences. Then on the test, he changed some of them. Soooo...we'll see what grade I get. Hmpf.

Here are some of the sentances I had to memorize, for your enjoyment. I doubt I will go out and say them to some German stranger. Although I might, just for kicks.

After Franziska arrived in Cologne, she watched the parade. (got this one wrong)

These men would like to marry, and would gladly have a wife.

He sits down at a large table and orders himself cold mineral water.

Now I only have four more of these tests to do. :<

Hopping the Pond, with three little Frogs

We have been in Germany for only a week and a half, and already I feel like I've let everyone down in my promise to keep you informed. You can't really blame me though. It is finals week, Elle wont let me have peace for more than 2 minutes, and did I mention we are in an entirely different country? So, finding a spare moment...

(insert half hour of walking baby to sleep)

Okay, I'm back. By the way, in case you are wondering, Ella sleeps with her eyes slit so she can see if I set her down. It makes life a little difficult. Like forget taking a shower or eating a meal. On the upside, she has started smiling more.

(another ten minutes of walking)

Also, did I mention that she doesn't seem to like anything I have eaten in Germany thus far? Too many strange new tastes. This is why I haven't even attempted to write yet, because I don't see how I can possibly sound coherent like this.

Well, let me first tell you about our plane flight, because ten hours on a plane with three children under four is always note worthy. But I have to start telling you about it earlier than that. 5:15 am would be a good time to start. We wanted to have the kids sleep on the way up to the airport, but apparently being dragged out of bed and shoved into the car at that time in the morning is too novel to just be slept through. So the kids watched Snow White in Grandma's van all the way up to the airport. Jeff rode with his dad in the truck, because there wasn't enough room for all the people and all the luggage (that should have tipped me off with a sense of impending doom, but it didn't). We all got out curbside, and it took three luggage carts to get us inside. Luckily Grandpa stayed with us in the airport, because after an hour of being awake, David decided he had had enough. Unfortunately, our problems were just beginning.
David has never liked change. When we moved next door to my parents for the last 2 months he turned into a demon. My sweetest child had some monster invade his body, or something like that. Well, I guess an airport reeks the smell of change. David started crying before we even had our luggage checked. It is enough to say that he cried straight through the 3 hours at the airport and the first flight of about an hour.
It was to that background that we started to confront our next great dilemma. The night before, we had opened the safe to get out our passports, only to find that my passport was still in my maiden name. If you have flown recently, you know what that means. Well, lets just say it would be more fun to take whatever money you were planning on using on that arm-and-a-leg transcontinental ticket and drive down the road, throw it out the window, and see if you can cause a crash. Because you just bought a ticket for a different entity, and that's the only person who can get on the flight with that ticket. What a disaster. Jeff called the airline (and of course they were up at that time of night because we flew on a German airline), and all they said was to bring my marriage licence. No promises. Just bring it and hope for the best.
So here we are at the ticket counter, with three carts full of bags, David crying, Ariana pulling on those stupid line dividers, and we are trying to sort it out with a different airline on our route. They say they can change the name on their ticket no problem. However, my bag will only be checked to Vancouver, then we have to retrieve it and recheck it. This simple answer takes over an hour and several staff and a manager to get. Good thing we showed up early.
The first leg of the flight goes fairly well if you overlook David's crying. Ariana slept from the moment we got on the plane, as well as Ella. And David couldn't be comforted for anything, so we just gave up and let him be. I was just happy that things were going a lot better than they could have.
My big test of patience came at the next airport. We had a five hour layover, and just like the last airport, it turned out we needed every minute of it. When we got off the airplane we headed strait for the bathrooms, thankful to use a real toilet and have space to change diapers without offending anyone. Then we all headed over to a nice looking bench next to a very pretty water feature that symbolized Canada's pride in their native heritage. Jeff said he needed to figure out how to get my bag and straighten out the ticket situation. "Can you wait here with them for a minute," were his famous last words. I spent three hours in that one spot, with so much luggage and children that I couldn't move. All I have to say is that those three are lucky they are all still alive, because that was torture.
However, the relief was that those three hours turned out to be the worst part of the journey by far. After Jeff got back, he explained that he had had to go outside of the secured area to get my bag. After that he went to the counter to fix my ticket, but they were not letting people into the airport for that flight until 12:30 Then he had to wait in line to go back through security. He had been waiting in line that entire time. After that, we bought something to eat for lunch and got on the next plane.
The ten hour leg of our journey was the one I had dreaded the most. I had bought lots of little toys the kids had never seen before, and packed them in little backpacks. I locked the zippers together so that they couldn't get into them until I was desperate. I was prepared for the biggest showdown in their little lives.
However, because of the disaster with the ticket situation, the Lufthansa staff that helped Jeff upgraded our tickets to premium economy. This meant more leg room, better food, but even more importantly a bassinet for Ella (which spot had been already booked in regular economy), and because we were the last tickets to get seats in that area, we had empty seats next to us. Jeff sat in a row with the two older kids, and when Ella went to sleep for the night, I handed her up and got to sleep across the entire row of three seats for more than half the flight! So, so lucky.
Our last leg was a short commuter flight. Everyone else on the plane had very little luggage and short tempers from working all day in stressful jobs. We barely got to cruising altitude before we were on our way back down.
After we got off, we had to hurry to pick up our luggage. Our last plane had been delayed in taking off by about 20 minutes, and it had eaten up our time buffer to meet the church members who were picking us up at the airport. By the time we got to the luggage pickup, our luggage was the only thing going around. It was kind of a surreal sight. I guess with kids you don't move that fast. We loaded up all our stuff (you would have laughed your butt off if you saw us then). We had three carts again, and no one to help this time. Then, we found out we had to get on an elevator. But you weren't suposed to leave your stuff unattended, yet only one cart would fit at a time. Pretty much a fiasco. We finally got curbside, and Jeff went to look around for the members.
Almut and another lady from the ward had brought vehicles to take us to our apartment. On the way to our apartment they both got lost, even using a GPS, so it was pretty funny.
Our super nice landlord and landlady had a small collection of cat stuff assembled to welcome us, so it was very embarrassing to explain that we forgot to tell them that we had made other arrangements last minute. The lady from the ward also brought us a large basket of food so that we would have something to eat right away (lifesaver!). It also had some cat food in it, and it made me sad. But I was very glad we left her too, especially remembering that she would have cried all the way here. And everyone here seems to have dogs too, which they walk off leash. I've only seen one cat.
In the basket, she had thoughtfully placed some "American style" bread, and a tiny jar of peanut butter. Apparently she had spent several years in the states going to BYU. I was ever so thankful.

I will have to tell the rest of my adventures later, even though they are piling up far faster than I find time to write about them. But we are here safely, nothing went horribly wrong, our landlords are good people, and the church members have absolutely been wonderful to us. We have been getting our bearings getting around town on the public transit, and getting settled into our apartment. Ariana has already made friends with our friends' Almut and Tobias' daughter Helena. And we are lucky to have some amazing parks for the kids to play at, several within our neighborhood, and also the city park within easy reach on the transit system.

Here are some of the pictures I have already taken with my new phone (we got cool smart phones so that we can use the mapping software where ever we go...and it has already helped me get un-lost a couple of times, but having a camera with you all the time is the best)

This is the side walk outside our apartment. We live on a side street, but our apartment backs a busier road. It can be noisy with the windows open, but when they are closed you hear nothing. Also, when we walk around town we can always hear lots of bird songs. So lovely! It is a half hour walk to either of the two nearest U-bahn stations, but the bus stop is just around the corner and can take you straight there. The trains run about every 6 to 8 minutes, whereas the bus comes every 20 minutes or so. It can come more frequently near when work gets off.


Here's David at the top of the slide at the park near our house. It is maybe a one minute walk from our front door. It is a lovely enclosed playground, with all sorts off cool stuff that the kids love. It also has a picnic bench, so I sit there with the baby while they play. And it is surrounded by a fence, so the kids can't take off and I can just let them play. So far we have always had the park to ourselves. The kids are always asking to go here or to the city park. They are loving having Jeff at home to play with them right now, and I have a sunburn from being outside so much. Our friend Tobias said that this has been an unusually warm May, the hottest in a hundred years if I remember correctly. We are certainly enjoying the weather though.

And here is Ella hanging out on our new bed. She generally has five minutes a day right now where she will be happy and just lay and "talk" to you and smile. She is already becoming more rewarding to be around, even if she still mostly cries, eats and sleeps. I have to throw in a heartfelt thank you to the several German contacts, especially Tobias and his wife, who kept suggesting that we rent a furnished apartment for our time here. This was a pretty novel concept to us, and it seems you break even or that it would even cost you less to just rent a regular apartment and buy the stuff. However, we have realized that this was certainly some wise advice. We know little about our new home, and having someone else being in charge of things like appliances, etc is best when working with a different language. And you forget that when you get here you wont even have a single tool to install or put together the things you will need. So kudos to all those who talked us into furnished. I was thinking fondly of you when I laid my head down on my pillow that first night after a day and a half of plane flights and airports.

I'll save the rest for later. I hope you all are doing well (and enjoying very normal lives).

Monkey Number 3

Sorry, I have no pictures of her yet. But rest assured she is cute. There are some on my dad's blog.

Ella is doing well. The home health nurse said she has already gained 3 ounces, which is great for somebody her size. She certainly produces enough diapers to convince us that she is eating well. We wanted to do cloth diapers for her, but so far it has been quiet an adventure. We have not yet had a cloth diaper not leak on us, which is producing a tremendous amount of laundry. I am sure it is user error or a sizing problem. I'd really like to stick with it. Half of my motivation is my wallet, and the other half is the environment. The wallet is definitely the larger half though. And cloth diapers are much cuter. They have fun prints and nice colors. And they make her butt look 3 times bigger.

As for labor, this was my most exciting labor yet. Instead of starting out with contractions for a long time like the other two, it started with a cough. I coughed and I thought I peed my pants. But then it seemed like a little too much. So I woke Jeff up, read through the pregnancy book's description of water breaking, and still wasn't sure. But then I started to bleed a little, so I knew I needed to go in either way. All the way to the hospital I kept thinking about how embarrassed I would be if it really was just stress on my bladder. Turned out there was no need, I really had broken my water. So then came the horrible realization that I didn't get to go home - I had to have the baby in 12 hours or so.

I had stayed up late working on homework, and had just finished it before that fateful cough around midnight, so I was exhausted. And we had eaten a large late lunch, so I hadn't had any dinner and I was starving. I lay in the hospital bed and tried to get some rest. And I talked the nurse into bringing me some soda crackers and juice. The juice gave me heartburn. I was beginning to see that this labor might be even more unpleasant than the last...hmmm. Not a good sign.

I tried to catch some rest between contractions for hours, because they weren't very close together. We had my mom and Rachel, who were suppose to be labor coaches for me, stay home until things picked up. At about five in the morning I remember feeling like I just wanted to get up and do something. I was bored to tears, but I kept worrying about being tired. I told myself that I would just lay still for another half hour, and then I could get up. I never really got to get up again.

The nurse came in to fiddle with the monitors. She said that there had been some low heart rates registering, and that she thought because I had turned over that it might be picking up my heart rate instead. I told her I really needed to go to the bathroom. Alright, she said, just a minute to check things. I tried to relax. It was over an hour before I got to use the bathroom, and I was nearly frantic I had to go so bad. In the meantime, I knew something was horribly wrong when the nurse said "Here, I just need you to put this on for a minute," sliding an oxygen mask over my face. Jeff knew something was wrong too. He called my mom for her to come.

The doctor had been in and out since the nurse started really messing with the monitor. Finally he announced, in a voice that would have put me to sleep were I back in a math class, that there had been some "decells". The moral of the story was that the baby's heart rate was dropping precipitously during contractions, probably because the umbilical cord was getting squeezed somehow. Not good. Was I going to have to have a cesarean?

"I'd like to do a blah blah blah," the doctor announced. Apparently he was going to put a tube up into the uterus to add fluid to the amniotic sack in the hopes that it would relieve pressure on the umbilical cord. Since my water had broken, the decrease in fluids might be the cause of the problem. Oh, and while he was down there they were going to attach a monitor to the baby. No more getting up. You have got to be kidding me with how badly I had to go to the bathroom. I had been drinking water all night before this happened.

The extra water put an end to the decelerations in heart rate, so they let me continue to labor in bed. However my contractions were still far apart, and I was able to chat in between. After over an hour he came in and checked me a second time. My contractions were finally starting to really hurt. He announced that they were "ineffective" and that he wanted to start me on pitocin. If he had been standing any closer, and if I wasn't in the middle of a contraction, he might have gotten smacked. It's never a good thing to tell a woman in incredible pain that it has been useless. I guess being "stuck" at 8 cm is a crime when your baby has shown signs of distress. "No!" was all I managed to say. The doctor and nurse both looked a little stunned, but the doctor said he would come back and check in a half hour. He respectfully stayed away until I was ready to push, probably because they can see the results of the monitoring from the hallway.

I felt pretty peeved about being stuck in bed, feeling that this was the reason I wasn't progressing. Feeling that my only options were to do something or have pitocin, I got up on my knees in bed and leaned on the front of the bed while it was raised. I didn't want to ask permission because I didn't want to be told no. While they had told me I had to stay in bed, they hadn't specified laying down, so I decided to capitalize on the gap between what they had said and what I am sure they meant. Pretty soon the pain had tripled, but I was willing to do just about anything to be put on medication. I made it, and when I felt like I couldn't stand it anymore I announced to Jeff and my mom that "the baby can't come out this way". I laid back down and the doctor came in. He got yelled at for trying to check me, but in the end he said I was ready to push. I can't see how it was more painful than I remember with the other kids...I remember the head being the only hard part with them. Ella had shoulders to match her head. While I had done a good job keeping relatively calm until the end, I through in a good deal of yelling during pushing. I joked later that I realized that I was making it look too easy for Rachel, so I decided to scream some. She still says she might have kids someday. :>

My kids so far have been 6'7, 7'8, and now 8'7. So I guess it is logical after all that the pushing hurts more each time. At this rate (bigger by a pound each time), I am not sure I'd like to have anymore. We'll see.

So I was very blessed. Because of a great doctor and a lot of work on my part, I did not get wheeled into the OR. Looking back, I realized that is probably what the oxygen mask was in preparation for. But I made it. Now we are at home, trying to rest up (ha ha ha). I apparently pulled a stomach muscle lifting the older kids, so I have been having to be very careful. Ella is keeping us busy with almost constant diaper changes, three in the past half hour alone! And Ariana and Cyrus are getting used to their new baby sister. (Cyrus is not so sure about her - he doesn't dislike he, but he has certainly sensed a change in quality of life coinciding with her arrival that he is none too happy about!)

I hope to take some nice pictures of her soon, but it will have to wait until I am a little less tired. In the meantime, I can tell you she looks an awful lot like the little baby on the side of the Pampers' wipes box. Very cute. :)

Last Call for Name Suggestions

With only a week to go, I realized we have not heard any suggestions for names from anyone this time around. That's kind of surprising, so I thought I would go ahead and ask for some, just for fun. Please leave some suggestions as a comment to this post.

We are expecting a little girl, so what do you think a good name is? Serious and silly suggestions accepted! (but you should probably specify somehow which one it is, or I might mistake it for the other). You can suggest a single name or a first and middle pair, but keep in mind that our last name makes it hard not to form a bad word with the initials. :> Also, if you know what the meaning of a name is, that would be nice to add - Jeff loves names that mean nice things.

We are just waiting, for the time being. Wish me luck!

Let the Adventures Begin!

Really, I fell off the Blog-wagon. But, if you haven't heard, we will be moving to Germany in a few months. I figured I could share my adventures with you all. I just didn't expect them to start before we even left!

My Grandparents are letting us stay in their house until we leave. They are in Florida right now. And my parents, who live next door, are putting up with our multi-daily visits. It's one way to get 7 months worth of visiting into 2 months. :>

However, we were not here two days before the Princess started throwing up. We knew a bug was going around, but she had also fallen out of the stroller earlier that day, so we decided to take her to be checked. Turned out she was just sick, no head injury, but it was pretty scary for a while.

As for why she fell out of her stroller - we were out looking for our cat, who apparently does not appreciate relocation. Especially to a house that she is not allowed to come inside of. So she went missing for a while. She has now figured out where we are, where her food will be (and at what time, so that we are not feeding all the neighborhood cats and raccoons), and she is starting to come to grips with the fact that she can't come in. She will come to the door and cry, we put her in her crate, she cries, we let her back out. She is not a very happy camper! I can only think it will confuse her even more when we take her to Germany and she suddenly has to stay in all the time instead. Poor cat!

One upside to our new home is that I can finally go for walks. The ground here is much more level, and I am able to push both kids in the stroller around the block. So I try to go on at least two walks a day, and sometimes I make the princess walk, other times she rides. Once I made the mistake of letting her switch places with her brother when I had the stroller set up as a single. She got tired and we were almost home, and I figured he could walk the rest of the way. Now it's like magic. Every time we reach that particular part of the sidewalk, she always asks! I have not let her do it again, but it will take a long time before she abandons the idea. If I want him to practice walking we will just all walk a short distance. We all have to build up endurance, because in Germany we will have to walk everywhere. And I hope to push or carry as little weight as possible! I plan on the princess walking, I hope the little boy will be reliable enough to be out and about, and that will leave me with the new baby, who I privately hope will be a lightweight like her siblings. Okay, so I am a weakling.

We have been at our new home for about a week now, and things seem to be getting better as we adjust. I still can't figure out my Grandmother's scheme of organization in the kitchen, so I have simplified my goals to just not breaking anything before we leave. And I finally maneuvered around the kitchen long enough to produce a dinner the other night! With Jeff gone late most nights, I don't have much motivation to make anything that others might call a dinner. The kids and I eat whatever, just so that they wont be too hungry to go to bed. Mmmm, nutrition at it's best. And with all our food in boxes from the move, even that is difficult. But we are settling in.

I do have to say a big thanks to all the ladies who helped me move when I could barely get out of bed. The RS in my ward was amazing. They helped me pack everything up when it seemed impossible. (no props to the guys though, not a one showed up to help Jeff actually move). And we are really grateful to my grandparents too, or at least I am. Without being able to sign a lease, we needed to move, and as much as I like spending a couple of hours at my mother-in-law's house (especially if it means no cooking), I don't think I could have stayed two months and kept my sanity. So here we are. Waiting. Waiting for Germany. Waiting for baby. Waiting for school to be over. But today as the sun was out, I decided it's not such a bad fate. Today seems to be the perfect day.