Snowiest Wiesbaden Winter in Years

Girls Going Sledding

Boy Defending Snow Fort

Christmas Cookie Baking Show

Winter Wonderland

Christmas Lights

I hung the lights today. There was lovely sun in which to do so (very rare here), but the temps. were still in the low 30s. I was able to use a lot of strands in a small space and I am pleased with the bright white effect. I will try and post pics soon, but I did feel inspired to write some of my thoughts at Building Cathedrals until then.

Christmas Tree Selection

This Year She could Carry our Apartment Tree Herself!

Emerging as a Viable Playmate ...

"It's a bird, it's a plane, no it's Clark turns 1!!"

You poor little man, you were in the midst of a nasty fight with a headcold as we ushered in your second year of life. In fact, I stuck candles in your Mickey Mouse pancake in the morning, because I wasn't sure how late you would stay up. Good thing we did, because you were asleep by 1700.

Truly, though, you handled the sickness like you handle life: with good humor and amazing resilience. But I don't just want to say the typical things one would mention about a third child - of course you are a master of sharing and good spirits despite being sat on, or snatched from or shoved, but you are your own man. While you are interested in
learning from your big brother to some extent, I often find you on your own, putting together little scenarios and talking about the metal taxi cab you put in the attic of Vivian's dollhouse.

Your biggest crime is how much you love your mom. You are the most attached one of the three. But, despite the fact that I should, empirically, be sick of you (you won't go to anyone when I am visible and only a select few if I am out of view) I just can't get enough of you. Perhaps it is your smaller version of your father's amazing good looks. Perhaps it is the way you know what you want and point at it matter-of-factly until someone responds. Perhaps it is the way you have always loved the outdoors, whether it is alongside a sandbox in the 70 degree weather of Southern California, or braving a sledding hill in 27 degree weather in Germany, you relish it all. You sleep and eat well. You are the fastest crawler we have ever seen and your brother and sister are already begging us to move you into their room. I think your father said it best one morning as he looked at you in your high chair on his way out the door, "Isn't it amazing how you can't imagine having them and then all of the sudden you cannot imagine life without them." Life without you, little Clark Bar, would be incomplete.

Picking Pumpkins

I will never tire of the German farmers' honor system when selecting your kurbis off their trailers. Here we are. Look at that glowing chicken amongst the orange gourds!

Cousin Shannon to our Aid

First hour in Deutschland

My nineteen-year-old cousin Shannon has come to live with us for several months. She will share a bedroom with Clarkie, take some trips around Europe and help me around the apartment in the day. Great news!

37 Years Old Today

Vivian and Ethan celebrated their tandem fest day today. The birthday GIRL's cake request was for cheesecake - half cherry topped and half chocolate chip topped. Her loving father stood by quietly while I prepared this cake and then ate only the smallest piece. Turns out he doesn't really dig cheesecake. He and Viv have agreed to request pumpkin pie next year.



Cake-flavor aside, we now have a six-year-old in our midst. Grown-out bangs, a penchant for patent leather shoes, fluid reading and a love for her younger brothers like you could never imagine. To have had an eldest daughter before the melee of the boyz (yes, she did folks) hit our family was a blesssing whose worth I couldn't possibly have understood at the time, but for which I am now thankful daily. Viv is my Saturday morning farmers' market buddy, my kitchen dance party protegé and my eager learner. Her questions are already beginning to stump me and we have only ventured into 1st grade homeschool. Girl, I can only imagine what the future holds for you. We love you.

Even home-schoolers make cupcakes

 I never thought I would have to do the make-a-ton-of-kiddie-cupcakes-and-transfer-somewhere deal because of homeschooling. But tomorrow our brand new six-year-old wanted to take eyeball cupcakes to her CCD (Catholic Sunday School) class, so here they are. Unreal. A mother will do anything, I am such a sucker. Just glad I don't have to suck on one of these bad boys.

Tasting the fruits of our farmers' market trip

hmmm...

Poor guy. There were yummy pears and apples and carrots further down in the basket, but he had to go for the leeks! Probably won't make that mistake again.

just lookin' Mom

the taste test

Socialization

To all you skeptics out there, those of you who fear that I am denying my children the opportunity to be well-adjusted kids, I offer this photographic retort:




Clearly, our homeschooled kids are turning out perfectly normally.

For Posterity

Undoubtedly, one's reasons for blogging are cloudy and ambiguous. Do we put ourselves out there for sympathy or approval or comparison? Is it out of loneliness or a hope for a sense of connection? Do we blog for our distant family or for our innermost self?

I don't try to know the universal answers to these questions. Personally, however, I  know that I have enjoyed looking back at my 2.5 years of memories, pictures and notes here. It is good for granting me a sense of progress. It reminds me that no, my older son was no better of a sleeper than our current infant, etc. I would like to believe that I have kept this blog alive as our only sort of family album or journal. From Arizona to Alabama to San Diego to Germany, other books have ended up in the basement, in closets, who knows where, but dear Blogger is always here for reference.

With all this in mind, I would like to write myself a note today, at 1700 Germany time:
Dear Self, Today there was fushcia Martha Stewart glitter sprinkled all over the empty breakfast dishes while you were brushing your teeth. Then there were 750 square toothpicks spilled on the kitchen floor as we tried to leave the house for "Mommy time" of weekly Bible Study. I feel frustrated that no one can tie their own shoes or gauge how much clothing is required for the bitter cold outside. I am flabergasted that it takes no less than 45 minutes just to get out the door with my three kids. I want someone else to be strong enough to unscrew juice cup lids so that I don't have to do the assembly-line myself before I can take my kids to Church childcare. My 1500 survival coffee was forearm-swept off the kitchen counter down inbetween the stove and its adjacent cabinet. I had to stop all routine dish-doing and pull out the oven. There was mopping and wet-wiping and all while the offender complained that he could not get to "his shield" in the pot lid cupboard. It all seems pretty unreal. I feel like I have the wrong temperament and struggle to remind myself how blessed we are to have the resources to buy frivolous things like glitter and multiple pots. It really is true. I am blessed with a burning faith that never leaves me or causes me to doubt that every tough moment with these young children is part of God's plan, but man, I could use a few more kids who could do stuff.

Oktoberfest 6-year-old

Ladies and Gentlemen, feast your eyes on the latest creation of the world's most talented Oma! Viv's special order, made-from scratch "German dress" arrived from Grandma tonight. Totally unreal. Thanks, Mom!

Oktoberfest 6-year-old

Soooo Big

Squeaking it in there before his eleventh month....

Purple und Purple

Viv and I buy our family's produce at the weekly farmers' market downtown. This morning was our morning, and it was pouring rain. Totally beautiful. Only the die-hards were out and it felt good to be amongst them, even if the Germans do continue to be hyper-critical of my German language attempts. Viv always gets freebies, and today she got the world's tiniest purple Bell Pepper. It matches her favorite fancy dress just perfectly.

Ah Yes...

I like to call this one "All Clean but the Pirate Hook" Of course.

Fall Gourds

 I mean, who can resist fall gourds? Really? Not us.

I could bore you with an extended metaphor about how our children are like gourds in their uniqueness and beautifully surprising colors and endearing imperfections, but I will refrain. Happy fall.

Happy Hornet

After a year off, our eldest is back on the soccer field. We had to sign her up for the 6-7 yr.-old team because of her birthdate, but as the youngest on her team, she is doing great. However, I am not going to lie, the girl's favorite aspect of the game is definitely throw-ins.. basketball starts soon, we will have to give that a shot. Pun, holler.

Boys, Ball and Sunshine

I am powerless to resist this moment.

What Would Monday Morning Hold?

Why a, totally unprompted, alien puppetshow, of course. I live in Randomville. God blesses me by keeping homelife always entertaining.

Feast of the Assumption

Mary's blue dress got a little sassier this year, and those lips look mighty red... should I be getting concerned? We had our berry crumble as well, it went on the road with us to a friend's apartment this year, so no picture to share, but sharing the dessert was more lovely.

Fandango Nights

1st tri-bath

While the super huge German bathtubs do facilitate bathing all three children at once, I am not sure the efficiency is worth the risk of life caused to the baby's soft melon by his older brother's flailing limbs.

XY squared

More than an algebraic function around here.

Suuuumertime... and the living is Chuuuby.

In Our Own Backyard

Today, after Mass, we joined our parish's RCIA candidate(s) for a trip into downtown Frankfurt, to see the cathedral.

It is hard to appreciate this one, after visiting Bruges, Paris, and St. Peter's Basilica, but I wouldn't want to name drop. Taa haa.

No, but we were glad to have the opportunity to visit the beautiful old center of Frankfurt - it is the city just 20 minutes from home and, therefore, the one that we would most likely never visit. The plaza is beautiful, and there are even fully-exposed ruins of some Roman baths in front of the cathedral. It was a warm day, and the kids were still in Church footwear, so that was a bit of drama. Nonetheless, they hung in there like the little Euro-traveling troopers into which they have become and now we have toured our nearest Euro-city.

Mainz Volkspark

We live in one beautiful German city, but we are just across the Rhine River from an even more beautiful German city. Mainz captures my heart every time we venture over the bridge.

This evening we finally visited the much-talked-about Mainz Volkspark, or "People's Park". There is the most inventively fun children's splash park I have ever visited. Chlorinated, safe, suitable for all ages and totally free. Yet again I am struck by the paradox of how well German culture understands and caters to its children and the country's sadly dropping birth rate. What a waste. Well, we will do our American family best to soak it up while we are here.

Pride in our Flag, Despite World Cup Results

Celebrating one's country while living inside another country somehow makes the gratitude that much more poignant. Great holiday this year, really great.



God Bless America.

Soild Food

Vivian has been so excited to introduce solid foods to the young Clark and I told her that this is the week. She has been so patient. She waited for me to make a special trip the Wednesday morning Farmers' market in order to shop for beautiful carrots and squash for our little man's first vegetable puree. She helped me steam the veggies and food process them. She even made a picture of what she anticipated the feeding being like. Unfortunately, her anticipation has yielded very little fruit thus far. Clark is less-than-impressed with the idea of eating off of a spoon. I am a firm believer in offering each item at least ten times before giving up, so we are tinkering right now. A little runnier and with some brown rice cereal and milk seemed a bit tastier to him last night.

Nonetheless, this would all be much more tiresome and frustrating if it weren't for the 5.5-yr.-old jubilation with which it is all accompanied, so thank you, Big Girl.

Starbucks Tri-Date

Today I had the privilege of sitting in a German Starbucks with my three children: ages 5.5, 2 and 8 mos. It was 1520 in the afternoon on a Summer Tuesday. They had all behaved very well for several hours earlier at a wildlife preserve and were being treated to tall flavored milks topped with whipped cream as a reward. The moment was close to magic for me. I was struck by what a life of profound blessing I have. To not work, to have three healthy, happy children who enjoy sitting on those fuzzy brown armchairs, with their muscular childlegs touching one another and their feet not close enough to the ground to touch. Between some small milk spills, a near escape on the part of the 2 yearold and a mildly fussy babe - I think we looked a bit strange to the circulating Germans. Three children is enough to make you stand out as a backward cultural anomaly in today's Europe - but that is not at all how it felt to us.In the vortex of the cultural whirlwind I felt the peace of the eye of the storm. I was flushed with a feeling of profound gratitude and happiness, even as we quickly smeared paper napkins on the wall to clean up the last bit of spilled vanilla milk.

The Fasanerie

A dear friend of ours offered to show us Wiesbaden's great fasanerie today. The word fasanerie does not translate well into English, because we have nothing like this. It is a combination nature preserve/feeding/petting zoo/woodland playground with water features dreamland all for kids. We saw elk, buffalo, rabbits and pigs to name a few. Additionally, the fasanerie is just 15 minutes outside of the city but you feel as if you have been transported to a different part of country entirely. The shaded play areas and hub-bub provided by the animals made it a very enjoyable afternoon, and it was all free to boot. This is kid-friendly Germany at her best, and I have a feeling this will become one of our favorite spots.
Pictured are two descendants of Buffalo, NY with a German buffalo.

Full Pantry, Empty Heart

Today our dearest Army buddies moved out of our building, and back across the Atlantic to a new duty assignment in northern Alabama. I wrote more about it here.

World Cup Parenting

We loved following the 2006 World Cup - but watching this year's World Cup from smack dab in the middle of Europe is even more amazing.

Ethan and I share a love of this tournament. We are in the midst of four weeks of great dates in front of soccer games. There is something so refreshing about a worldwide soccer tournament. This is the stuff of legends - there are Camerooni soccer forwards who have raised their entire African villages out of poverty. This is not the Olympics, it is so much better. No one needs a multi-million-dollar pool or elaborate luge track to train. Just a ball. A ball and some posts. I have seen this sport bring joy and purpose to lives in some of the poorest spots in South America. Furthermore, FIFA rules of play continue to eschew technological assistance in making "fair calls." Rather, four live human men have to make the call in real time and then, guess what... you live with it. Perhaps this is why soccer cannot take off in the U.S. Perhaps we are so enamored by the idealized (I would argue bogus) concept of justice that the "bad calls" by officials can "ruin a game for us." Not the rest of the world. They get it. They get that life is not fair, but that hard work, consistency and patience yield results.

So we love the World Cup. We are watching nearly five hours of soccer a night. We teach Viv where the competing countries are located and show her their flags. We cheered so loudly when the U.S. scored their 92nd minute goal that we awoke a sleeping infant. We are that die hard. We live up the hill from the city soccer stadium and they are airing all the German games on their jumbo-trons. Germans arrive hours early and start drinking beer and singing national songs. Then, once the game starts it gets totally loud. Their satellite feed must be about 4 seconds better than ours, so we always know when a German goal is imminent. Our apartment building is under serious construction, and I think I have made friends with the gruff crew of four German laborers simply by making a kicking motion with my foot and saying, "Zer Gut" the day after an important victory for their team. They smile huge, and I am grateful to be an insider in this worldwide fraternity of the true FOOTBALL!
Go USA.

Borderline

To Viv, my daughter. I remember from my early teenage babysitting years that I never enjoyed babysitting six-year-olds. They seemed to be too cool for everything, and thought they knew it all. In light of that fear, I want to record a sunny moment I had with you and your brothers today at a playground.

The three of you had survived daily mass with the visiting bishops and a crowded potluck lunch which followed and I owed you playground time. The weather was 65 and sunny with strongish winds that served only to cool us off after the stuffy lunch in the Church basement. You were wearing a pink short-sleeve shirt with glittery butterflies emblazoned on it, and black skirt with coordinating sequins. I had noticed that it was one of the first outfits you have selected yourself that actually matched, and I had a twinge of sadness at your maturing. Anyhow, we were all enjoying ourselves separately at first - you on the lone swing, Seth exploring the large play structure and the baby and I sitting in the grass in the one shady corner. Then Seth went into the little wooden house atop the play structure and started saying "not by the hair of my chinny chin chin". He is mildly obsessed with the story of the Three Pigs right now, and you indulged him. You ran right up those stairs and got in the house with him. As I said "then I'll huff and I'll puff..." approaching the stairs to reach you, you actually got excited and scared. You squealed with delight as I came to the door and you made it that much more fun for your 2-yr.-old brother and you were not too cool at all. I love you.

Dear

Dear Clark, Today I lowered myself over you while you were just in your diaper on your back in our bed. My love for you was so potent at that moment that no one could possibly understand it. Yet, as I smothered you with kisses from shoulder to shoulder, you gave me the most knowing, grateful look and coo. You understand my love. The cloth diaper you were wearing had been worn by your brother, but you wear everything so differently. You wear life differently. You are teaching me that the wild love and span of emotions I have experienced with our first two children was apparently limited, and that you - in your uniqueness- have the capacity to stretch that love.

Dear Vivian, This morning I witnessed you read a book with such a degree of fluency and comprehension that you were able to laugh at it. All alone, while the morning chores bustled around you. You read a regular children's book aloud and chuckled knowingly at subtle combinations of humor in the wording and pictures. I am excited to have a child who will gain as much pleasure from the written word as her parents, and I look forward to sharing good reads with you for decades to come.

Dear Seth, Today we brought you home three pair of Bob the Builder underpants in anticipation of potty-training. You struggled to get on your favorite pair of the three, and once you did they were totally inside out. Nonetheless, you stood up and proclaimed, "I like Daddy." Which means "I AM like Daddy." Although we are pushing that concept hard in order to inspire peeing in the potty, the idea of losing my joyous golden toddler into boyhood and later manhood is heart-wrenching to me. There is something very particular about raising a child of the opposite sex.

T.G.I.F.

Photos taken at 0847 this morning at the two separate ends of our apartment, thank goodness the weekend starts in a few hours!

Definitive First Word

Our handsome third child/ dark-horse/ Daddy look-alike has a consistent first word, here is proof - posted by a reluctant "Ma-Ma":

Rothenburg ob du Tauber

They are Here!

Aunt Linda and Uncle Mark spent their first day in Germany fighting (and defeating) the six hour jetlag. They are true champs, and made it all the way through with only one teeny power nap. We are getting the most out of them already:

Homeschool Music Class

I doubt that the Catholic-hymn writer Dan Schutte has ever seen his beautiful hymn "River of Glory" performed in this way:

a naked 2 year-old and his videographer 5-year-old sister in front of an Imac computer playing his song.

(chorus lyrics are, "River of Glory, springs of our birth, flood of God's riches poured on the Earth. We are born from the darkness and clothed in the light, we are bathed in the glory of God.)

The Gifts of The Holy Spirit

Pentecost... one of my absolute favorite Church holidays.


There is something about this one that has always spoken to me: the frightened Apostles locked in the upper room - so human-- and then the confidence with which they are inspired when the rushing wind of the Holy Spirit enters their midst.

Additionally, after a couple of years of European travels, I can appreciate the power of being able to speak a different language. What an important aspect of the early evangelization in the wake of Christ's death.

As for us, we had a humble celebration involving lots of the Holy Spirit's symbolic red color, some Pentecost punch, Holy Spirit cookies, discussion of the Fruits of the Holy Spirit, and oh, yeah, of course Clifford got to come to dinner because, well, he is red. Hope your weekend was peaceful and renewing.