On Family

Sorry I've been quiet but what with being 8 months pregnant, working and getting ready for Christmas I've been kind of busy.  Oh, and being a single mom this week while Ralf's in California. 

I'm looking forward to a quiet family Christmas this year. I  have three stories to write up before the children's book I'm writing is finished and I have great plans for sewing extremely simple doll clothes over the next few weeks. 

Next weekend we'll procure and decorate the tree, listen to Nat King Cole and bake gingerbread cookies - and I can eat as many Christmas cookies as I want because let's face it, I'm not getting any thinner until at least February. 

I can even look out at the snow with a charitable eye because this morning my neighbor shoveled snow out of my driveway.  I tell you, once you've known them for about ten years, Germans turn into wonderful, loyal friends!

Little Beauregard is doing well, although I hope I'm not about to change that with the slightly past its prime chicken I'm baking right now.  Ralf read about how some woman had her baby at the Vienna Opera house and got a lifetime membership so now he wants me to start hanging at the Allianz arena.  Just in case.

K is acting in a Christmas production and needs an angel costume, a requirement that caused me some anxiety since the child has no white clothes except t-shirts.  And I'm not one of those moms that can sew a white dress and make glittery wings out of cardboard.

Yesterday she was absolutely frantic to knock next door and ask to borrow an angel dress.  When I asked her why she was in such a rush she turned haunted eyes to me and said: 'Last night I dreamed I had to perform in a white t-shirt and polka dot leggings!'

Which, to be fair, was an option I had been considering.  I congratulated her with a straight face on figuring out her own costume while chuckling to myself that she definitely knows her mum.

I guess family are the people who know you well and love you anyway.

Auld Lang Syne

You can never go back to a nicer time but you can (and in fact, must) go forward. And who knows how nice the future will be?

This year was our turn to host the NY party. We were supposed to do it last year but I was too sick. So you can imagine how sick I was. This year I was also sick but nipped it in the bud so the party was on.

It was a great success, although I did almost burn down our house when I put L's ski jacket on a candle while I helped her take off her boots. Ralf is still making snide comments about that even though it's a whole new year and it's time to move on, don't you think?

So, party? I'll let the pictures speak for themselves. Mostly. Welcome to our home. You look marvelous. Please come in and have a drink. Dinner will be served shortly.

Getting ready to party with my girls.

Of course, the secret to any successful party with kids is an attic and a DVD player.

I love the illusion that that's all my hair. Dinner. Food is important.Fireworks at midnight followed by dancing.Kids still going strong.Kids out by 3AM, party starting to wind down. Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas

Another Christmas, another round of antibiotics.

True to form, I came down with strep throat on Christmas Eve. Last year it was bronchitis, only I waited a month before going to a specialist for antibiotics and by that time I needed cortisone to heal some internal damage, including several microtears in my ribs that still twinge.

This time we called the specialist immediately so I'm already on my way back to health.

This is my first strep throat and I had no idea it was so agonizingly painful. The back of your throat swells to twice it's normal size and swallowing is a private microcosm of hurt. Technically, it only hurts when you swallow but how do you not swallow?

Still, it was a fine Christmas and I for one am heartily grateful that 2009 is nearly over. Even though there is a high probability that 2010 will get worse before it gets better, it's still nice to see the back of 2009.

Don't worry, we're all fine (well, except me, I've got my annual plague but I'm on the mend), and there have been some memorable high points, but all in all it was a very difficult year.

Anyway, enough about me. I just wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas season and a very Happy New Year.

This and That

First of all, this breaking Human Resources news - snuggies are banned from the workplace. Read all about it here. This is the biggest HR news since the financial crisis broke, at least for Kristina.

I finished Hornet's Nest. It was good, although the end fizzled a bit. Please read it, it's way better than average.

Two more tips for you (I'm in an expansive, helpful mood):

1) Watch the movie 'Laura', an old black and white classic with Gene Tierney and Dana Andrews; and

2) For delicious and easy appetizers, wrap prunes in bacon strips and back until bacon is cooked. If you want to be classy, stick toothpicks through them. Make a lot, they go fast.

Finally, K's long-awaited Christmas wish list - she didn't bother with any sort of greeting or salutation to Santa, just the list:

1. robot horse
2. math book
3. more hermit crabs (to ignore)
4. story CD about some magic horse with a weird name that sounds like 'Sternschweif'
5. real gold necklace
6. real sivler bracelet
7. tatoo pens
8. tatoo stickers
9. tatoo

Needless to say, she'll be getting the math book.

The Amazing Cookie Diet

The diet that works for cookie monsters, who can resist anything except really good cookies. It's very simple. Eat only cookies in December. The rest of the year you won't want to see anything resembling a cookie. You will probaby gain about 5 pound in December but lose 10 over the rest of the year. It really works, I kid you not.

Disclaimer: If you're more of a potato chip or salty snack monster, this diet obviously won't work for you. Sorry.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

For Christmas this year I would like the following:

1. Chocolate Santa
2. Chocolate croissant
3. Lollipop
4. Chocolate muffin
5. Chcolate streusel cake

PS This is my muffin note.

Sincerely,
L (4 years old)

The Day After

Ralf has no words. He is disgusted with the lameness of his family. Today was sunny so we decided to make a nice family excursion to the wild animal park in Poing, which offers what the Germans refer to as a refreshing winter walk and various exotic animals like stags, boars, and even a baby bear. In the spring there are goslings and piglets, too. So, we all bundled up in our warmest jackets and headed out.

Once there we were confronted by gale force mountain winds and it turned out that I had put the wrong shoes on L so her feet were cold. She also refused to wear proper snow gloves so she was all primed to be uncomfortable. K, dressed by Ralf, had the right shoes but complained that her mouth was cold and was quite put out by this. And I had unthinkingly put on my trainers, my default shoes that are more than adequate for California winters. Ralf stared at my shoes in disbelief that I thought these shoes would work for a winter walk. ‘Even you. . .’ he began, but was too overcome by negative emotion to continue and had to fall back on making helpless hand gestures. I could actually see him questioning the wisdom of bringing an ignorant warm climate girl to Germany.

Although he was prepared to make me tough it out he was not equal to the combined female power of his entire household so we aborted the mission and headed home again. On the bright side, it gave him a chance to practice his, ‘There’s no bad weather, just bad gear, blah, blah, blah’ speech. I let the lecture flow over me (totally undeserved – I mean, it’s sunny so how was I supposed to know??) and looked out the window at all the exotic Teutonic families with children dressed like puffy marshmallows and babies wrapped in down sacks and stuffed into insulated perambulators. It all looked very unnatural to me, like living on the moon.

Of course, when I expressed this sentiment out loud Ralf pointed out that the entire Northern hemisphere is like this. I guess he has a point.

Note to self: no trainers ‘til spring.

Merry Christmas to all

The kids made a good haul this year. Although Ralf and I only bought one present for each child, they somehow ended up with books, princess paraphanelia, clothes, skis, Melissa and Doug craft kits and those little plastic beads that you arrange on a special little form then iron into totally useless shapes. On the downside, the room fills with carcenogenic gas when you iron them, but on the plus side it keeps kids busy for hours on end.

Ralf and I made out well, too. We finally splurged on a flat screen TV after four years of discussing it with no action and I got a real 2nd hand Pfaff sewing machine that I haven't yet figured out how to thread, but I will, and then look out! I predict that my kids will be wearing lots of sleeveless sun dresses next summer. We also got tickets for the whole family to Circus Krone next week and Ralf's sister got us tickets to the Harlem Gospel Singers, babysitting included.

And Ralf made me a new CD with my favorite songs of 2008 so as I write this I'm listening to 'Where You Gonna Sleep Tonight' and fantasizing about being a Scottish rock star.

Anyway, I just wanted to say Merry Christmas!

Christmas montage

Isn't snow lovely on those first few days? So pure and white... after about two days it totally sucks. But only five months 'til Spring!

Here are a few pictures to commemorate the Christmas season in our household:

Christmas Crafts

Angels

Arielle is very sick

Santa Daddy

Present for Mommy

Sick Bubi
Kitty on the table

The light at the end of the tunnel

Well, Ralf ended up not going to Ireland - my sweet husband who almost cooks for me decided his family was too sick to leave alone. K had a nasty cough attack yesterday and it turns out she does have an ear infection but we found a great ENT (referred to as 'HNO' here) who is treating her without antibiotics. He taped some weird seaweed behind her ear and we haven't heard a complaint since. Anyway, after K slept for 48 hours straight without eating a little ear infection seems almost like an old friend.

I had a bad night coughing but today feels better. I haven't coughed once all morning. The girls ate pancakes for breakfast and are upstairs making Christmas presents for Ralf's parents. It's snowing outside, the tree is twinkling and it's starting to look a lot like Christmas.

I am also in better charity with the doctor I went to after an illuminating discussion with Ralf. I asked him why anyone would bother going to a doctor if they weren't in need of relief. He told me that in fact, most people go to doctors with a cold here not to get a prescription but to skive out of work. Well. Who knew a cold could get you out of work? And sure enough, this doctor did give me a 2 day hall pass, which I forgot about in my purse and have no intention of flashing at work, except perhaps for the comedic value. So what we had was a failure to communicate.

The NaBloPoMo theme for December is Thankfulness and I've been much too sick to be properly thankful but I want to correct that now. Things I am grateful for:

Husbands who attempt to make chicken soup for their sick wives.

Brave little girls with green eyes who weather grown up bugs without complaining.

Sweet little babies with big blue eyes who always want to be in on the action - even if the action is zonking.

Purring orange cats who sleep on the dining room table in full glory when everyone's sick.

Frangrant Christmas trees that make it seem like Christmas.

Fluffy snow flakes that are safely outside.

Floor heating.

Family that still love you even when you're sick.

Friends that check in on you to make sure you're OK and think positive thoughts for you.

Christmas cookies.

And the 10 pounds I lost right before Christmas during my bout with the plague, reminding me that there's always a silver lining.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

The Deed is done

L's Schnully is no more. Yesterday evening at around 7:30 Berndt came by in a felty Nikolaus costume to pass out presents and collect L's Schnullies (pacifiers). K, ever practical, had no issue with the glaring fakeness of Santa - she answered all questions promptly and courteously in order to get her present, then ran off to open it without saying thank you. L, who had taken one last snuffly, sweaty nap with her beloved Schnully after Kindergarten then bravely put all them in a Baby Gap bag for Nikolaus, buried her head in my shoulder and indicated in a sad, choked up little voice that I should complete the transaction. I was feeling pretty choked up myself. K had accepted at face value that 3-year-olds give their pacis to Nikolaus in exchange for a present but L doesn't quite see why a man who brings toys to all the children in the world can't get his own Schnullies.

Anyway, thus we traded away another child's beloved and dependable comfort object in exchange for (we hope) good teeth and better coping skills. I'm fairly certain she'll be sending us the therapist's bill for this one in twenty years.

Why do I think so? Well, for one thing Nikolaus gave L a baby-sized Snow White doll, which she took to at once, making her up a soft little bed and whispering reassuringly that she wouldn't let anyone steal her baby's Schnully. I had to take that one on the chin.

As a special treat L got to sleep in our bed that night. I'm afraid Ralf got the short end of that stick, however, because L snozzled up against him all night, took over his pillow, made loud succulent noises right near his ear and did her best to push him out of bed. On the bright side, I slept great and except for one small accident and a short outbreak of weeping in the middle of the night, L also slept through.

That makes today the first day of L's Schnully-free life. And tonight she is spending the night at her grandparents', where we hope there won't be so many bittersweet associations.

Christmas Fondue Sauces

After my recent Christmas posting, I received a couple of requests for meat fondue sauces so here there are. They are a well-guarded family secret that Ralf's dad's been accumulating and perfecting over years so use them well. And make sure you have bread to mop up the meat juice and mixed sauces at the end!

Curry Sauce
1 cup sour cream
1 tsp. honey
1 tsp. curry
1 tbl. lemon juice
Salt, Pepper, a shot of Whisky

Mustard Sauce
1 cup sour cream
1 tbl. med. sharp mustard
1/2 tsp. sugar
2 tbl. chopped fresh dill (or 1 tsp dry Dill)
1 tbs. lemon juice
Salt, Pepper

Cream Cheese Sauce
½ package cream cheese
3 tbs. sour cream
1 tbs. finely chopped onion
1 tbs. minced sour pickle
1 tbs. finely chopped parsley
Salt, Pepper, lemon juice

Herb Sauce
1 cup sour cream
1 tbs. finely chopped onion
1 tbs. Mayonnaise
1 hard boiled egg, minced
Finely chopped chives, parsley, dill
Salt, Pepper, a dash of mustard, vinegar und sugar

Horseradish Sauce
½ cup whipping cream
1 peeled and grated Granny Smith apple
3 tsp. horseradish
Salt and a pinch of sugar

Spicy Sauce
3 tbs. sour cream
1 tbs. Mayonnaise
Hot Ketchup
Salt, pinch sugar, Cayenne pepper or Tobasco
Shot of Cognac

Pink Sauce
4 tbs. unsweetened whipped cream
2 tbs. Mayonnaise
1 tbs. minced capers
1 minced hardboiled egg
1 tbs. Hot Ketchup
Salt, Pepper, lemon juice

Sorry, Virginia, there is no Santa Claus

Ralf outed Santa the other day in front of our neighbors' kids. Well, sort of. He actually outed Nikolaus, who is a big guy in a red suit that brings presents on Dec 6th. To help Americans distinguish between Nikolaus and Santa, Nikolaus puts the presents in shoes instead of stockings and comes on the wrong day.

A popular ruse in Germany to get kids off their pacifiers is for kids to give them to Nikolaus in exchange for a present. I embellished the tale by saying he needs them as payment for the elves who make all the toys. This worked great for K, although we have our concerns about L, who is less materialistic than K. This makes it hard to know what sort of gift would make the trade worth it to her and we're expecting a bad week after the hand off.

But to do the hand off in the first place, you need a plausible Nikolaus. We used our colleague Albrecht for K but he's 6'5" with a distinctive voice and now that K's 5 and extremely observant we didn't think it would work. Ralf and his dad are also out, for similar reasons. Annette, alas, is divorced so no hubby to impose upon. So we hit upon our other neighbors, Berndt and Elizabeth, who live across from us and have two daughters that are a bit old to play with our girls. As it happens, they owe us, because Ralf played Nikolaus for them about 4 years ago when their kids were about the age our kids are now.

So, the other evening I sent Ralf over to ask and as these things go, the whole family came to the door in search of action. Ralf made his request, not really thinking that their youngest (who is about 8) could possibly still believe in Santa, sorry I mean Nikolaus, when he noticed Elizabeth making frantic throat-slitting gestures at him. Then Julia, the youngest, piped up with, 'Nikolaus comes on Friday anyway, why don't you just ask him to do it?'

It might have still been all right except for the little matter of the costume. Berndt, who was looking at Ralf, missed Elizabeth's 'abort! abort!' hand signals and asked if he should wear his own costume.

In the end the whole thing was glossed over with those lame parental excuses we all remember from our own childhood, the kind you accept at the time but file away to examine later on the therapist's couch. Ralf slunk home feeling sheepish, as befits someone who blows the whistle on Christmas magic.

Personally, I don't care that much if my kids believe in Santa once the pacifiers are gone. I mean, it's a nice fantasy that I'll keep alive as long as I can but I don't want to attach now that we have two informed older girls living right next door.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

After the excitement of the conference and the whirlwind activity of Thanksgiving we’re enjoying a quiet weekend of hanging at home and simple errands. Tomorrow is Sunday before December, which in Germany is the first Advent day. I’m not so well-versed on the religious history (something Catholic, I think) but you light one candle on the first Sunday, two on the second, and so on. Family and friends come by and there are coffee and cookies. It’s nice.

Soon we will have to get a tree and try to find a spot for it in our living room, which now has all our California furniture. Ralf will pretend we’re not getting a tree this year and I will half believe him and bug him about it and one day he’ll just come home with one. We will decorate it together with the same decorations we’ve used since before K was born. We will play Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby and drink tea and eat cookies. The kids will fight over the fragile ornaments and at least one will get broken. I will sneak off to my computer to check my email every few minutes. Ah, Christmas!

We have other Christmas traditions. For example, we invite all our friends over for Christmas coffee sometime in December. This year was hard to organize because we’re going to Ireland for a company Christmas party but now the date is set. I will make egg salad sandwiches with extra dill because Gesine likes them and Irish stew and everyone will bring their mom’s Christmas cookies (German Christmas cookies are pretty elaborate and no one in our generation knows how to make them). We will crack hilarious jokes about the relatively lame excuses Ollie's girlfriend uses not to show on such occassions. Chances are Kaye will come by to play and I’ll invite her mom over as well, who after spontaneous invitations on L’s birthday and Thanksgiving probably thinks we do nothing but cook for twenty people every night.

We will also visit the Weihnachtsmarkt, which is the Munich Christmas market. Actually there are several in Munich and they offer live music, handmade decorations, various delicious foods and hot drinks and other things of that kind. Each has it's own specialty, like the Flammbrot (flat bread with cream cheese, ham and chives) at Sendlingertor. It’s one of the nicest things about living in Munich.

On Christmas Eve we’ll go to Ralf’s parents for coffee then dinner (meat fondue with 12 sauces) and after dinner Ralf and his mom will play Christmas songs on the piano - badly, but that’s part of the tradition. Then I will play my one Christmas song, 'Greensleeves', which for some reason I can play perfectly with two hands and everything. Greensleeves is the last lonely remnant of my expensive musical education. Then there will be champagne and presents, mostly for the girls, who will be overwhelmed after the first three. Later a couple of Ralf’s best friends whose families don’t do a big Christmas Eve celebration will come by and they will drink and talk about old times. I won’t be able to contribute much – they’ve all known each other for more than twenty years and I wasn’t there the night Ralf stole the car or got drunk and fell down the hill into the poison ivy. But that’s OK because I usually crash and burn by 11 anyway.

On Christmas morning we’ll go for a brisk winter frog march after breakfast, which I will pretend to enjoy but not really fool anyone. There’s a German word for people like me: ‘Warmduscher’, which means ‘someone who takes warm showers.’ In a land where 19 degrees Celsius is considered acceptable swimming temperature this is a fairly insulting thing to call someone and in some situations may be considered fighting words. I prefer the term ‘LA girl’ but it hasn’t really caught on.

After traipsing up and down the winter landscape and getting plenty of fresh winter air into our lungs we’ll head home to relax, which means that Ralf and I will collapse on the sofa and the girls will climb all over us and giggle. It will be annoying and divine.

Another Christmas. We are blessed.