One of the greatest things about having friends in Germany is that when we are here, we are completely immersed in the language. It's fun to see Keith brush up on his skills, brush up on my own (though I'm much better with listening) and watch Evelynn try to figure it all out. She told me today that she's learning a lot of German. Well, maybe. She has now come up with her own language. One that is no where close to German or English. I find myself wanting to dive for cover when those who speak little English want me to explain what she just said. I understand her developmental need to express sounds, but hearing the two languages simultaneously has created a communication problem by itself.
While in Germany, we would like to do as the Germans do. It's hard to do that when your child creates her own gobbledigook, and that's just about what it amounts to. We've somehow managed to get her to say 'Danke' and 'Tchuß' fairly often, but that's about it. It's probably overwhelming to suddenly be surrounded by a language she doesn't understand, but from my and Keith's perspective, that's when the learning is best.
In the last four days, two of those days have been spent with friends who speak very little English. And I have begun to dream about German vocabulary and in my dreams I'm trying to translate what I'm dreaming. It's quite unusual and my brain hurts, but it's great for me. I wish Evelynn would be a little more serious about the language, but she is five. It's a completely new cultural experience for her. Now that she's caught up on sleep and more like herself she will stop making noise. Maybe. Meine Mädchen ist nicht so klein, aber Sie ist nur eine Kinder. (My girl is not so little, but she is still a child.) I hope she picks up a little more before we head home.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Planes, Snot and Sparkles
Evelynn's first airplane trip went off without a hitch, and she loves it. I'm not too surprised by this considering Keith's love of airplanes. Evelynn literally can't wait to get back on the plane next week. She mentions it everytime she sees a plane in the sky. Take-off, which she calls 'blast off', went smoothly. I kind of expected her to be a little more excited about it. Once we were in the air and above the clouds, she asked if it was okay for her to go to sleep. Well, okay.
We had a few bouts with turbulence and that's when she really perked up. Between the 'This is so much fun!' and the 'I'm so excited!' she was fairly calm. The only thing that freaked her out was flushing the toilet, which was quite loud and forceful. We had some issues as we began to descend. She couldn't get her ears to pop. We tried chewing gum and teaching her to hold her nose to release the pressure. It wasn't too successful until I held her nose for her and she covered my hand with snot when she blew too hard. I'm pretty sure it was laughter that cleared her head.
Keith and Evelynn did sleep for a while. I really wanted to sleep while Evelynn was awake and then when she finally went to sleep, I was wide awake. So it goes when you're the mom. Oh, well... I logged too many awake hours for those two days. We arrived in Frankfurt at 6am on Thursday and we did our best to stay awake until bedtime. It's really the only way to get adjusted to the time change quickly. Evelynn has taken a bit longer to adjust, but she's just about there.
Evelynn's excitement has never let up and the closer the plane got to Germany, the more questions she asked. The most important question was 'Does Germany sparkle?' That's what every five year old girl wants to know, right?
We had a few bouts with turbulence and that's when she really perked up. Between the 'This is so much fun!' and the 'I'm so excited!' she was fairly calm. The only thing that freaked her out was flushing the toilet, which was quite loud and forceful. We had some issues as we began to descend. She couldn't get her ears to pop. We tried chewing gum and teaching her to hold her nose to release the pressure. It wasn't too successful until I held her nose for her and she covered my hand with snot when she blew too hard. I'm pretty sure it was laughter that cleared her head.
Keith and Evelynn did sleep for a while. I really wanted to sleep while Evelynn was awake and then when she finally went to sleep, I was wide awake. So it goes when you're the mom. Oh, well... I logged too many awake hours for those two days. We arrived in Frankfurt at 6am on Thursday and we did our best to stay awake until bedtime. It's really the only way to get adjusted to the time change quickly. Evelynn has taken a bit longer to adjust, but she's just about there.
Evelynn's excitement has never let up and the closer the plane got to Germany, the more questions she asked. The most important question was 'Does Germany sparkle?' That's what every five year old girl wants to know, right?
Friday, May 6, 2011
Life with One Child
It's a positively surreal sensation to have three children and a dog one day and then just have one child the next. The two youngest girls and the dog have been packed off to Grandma and Grandpa's house and I'm left with the oldest. I have been mentally flopping between giddiness and melancholy since the day we parted ways. I know Caelan and McKenna are having a blast. I know that I am enjoying my time with Evelynn, too. But it's just plain weird.
Evelynn still wants to share everything with her sisters (which is a gesture I'm pleased to see so deeply instilled in her). This sharing goes from food to hairbows to toys. Evelynn wants to save things she can't share. She's finally (after six days) realizing that she is the only one. She flops between giddiness and melancholy. "We can go into the store together? I don't have to ride in the cart? We don't have to have the extra long cart? We don't need diapers? We can go in to eat?..... But I want Caelan to have a hairbow, too. But that's McKenna's, I can't play with it. When Caelan comes home, she can eat that. I'm getting my hair cut? Yes! We can go to the library? We're going to the bookstore? Can I get Caelan a book? Caelan doesn't have this book. McKenna would think that's so cute."
Things I've dreaded doing and things I'm constantly doing with the whole family home, have dwindled. Instead of two loads of laundry a day, I did three yesterday and I'm done. All the clothes are clean. My house is clean. Normally, I wash the dishes at least three times a day. I decided not to wash the dishes for two days. The sink was not even full when I did do them. If I want to go somewhere, we go. Usually it takes twenty minutes to get out the door. I have not picked up any toys in six days. Evelynn has cleaned her room every day. I have had a hundred more conversations with Evelynn than usual. She has no one else to talk to. And sometimes she talks to herself. We went on a bike ride. Evelynn had the entire bike trailer to herself. We've gone shopping. It's been too long since I've seen the inside of a dressing room. I have told Evelynn to be quiet three times in the last six days. I tend to say it a dozen times in one day. All in all, though, I miss the bustle. I feel lazy. It's amazing what two extra little bodies create in just cleaning and noise alone. So my house is too clean and far too quiet. I miss my babies and so does Evelynn.
Evelynn still wants to share everything with her sisters (which is a gesture I'm pleased to see so deeply instilled in her). This sharing goes from food to hairbows to toys. Evelynn wants to save things she can't share. She's finally (after six days) realizing that she is the only one. She flops between giddiness and melancholy. "We can go into the store together? I don't have to ride in the cart? We don't have to have the extra long cart? We don't need diapers? We can go in to eat?..... But I want Caelan to have a hairbow, too. But that's McKenna's, I can't play with it. When Caelan comes home, she can eat that. I'm getting my hair cut? Yes! We can go to the library? We're going to the bookstore? Can I get Caelan a book? Caelan doesn't have this book. McKenna would think that's so cute."
Things I've dreaded doing and things I'm constantly doing with the whole family home, have dwindled. Instead of two loads of laundry a day, I did three yesterday and I'm done. All the clothes are clean. My house is clean. Normally, I wash the dishes at least three times a day. I decided not to wash the dishes for two days. The sink was not even full when I did do them. If I want to go somewhere, we go. Usually it takes twenty minutes to get out the door. I have not picked up any toys in six days. Evelynn has cleaned her room every day. I have had a hundred more conversations with Evelynn than usual. She has no one else to talk to. And sometimes she talks to herself. We went on a bike ride. Evelynn had the entire bike trailer to herself. We've gone shopping. It's been too long since I've seen the inside of a dressing room. I have told Evelynn to be quiet three times in the last six days. I tend to say it a dozen times in one day. All in all, though, I miss the bustle. I feel lazy. It's amazing what two extra little bodies create in just cleaning and noise alone. So my house is too clean and far too quiet. I miss my babies and so does Evelynn.
Cross Country
It's a good thing I love to drive and I know that I've put more miles on my kids than an average adult has under their belts. It's 1500 miles one way to my hometown and 1200 to my in-laws. Needless to say, Evelynn has logged at least 40,000 miles. Impressive, considering she just turned five. The trip we took last week was a quick two day journey, a mere 1460 miles. It was heavenly. With three kids, the dog, the luggage, and of course, myself, in the Jetta, we hit the road. Two 12 hour driving days loomed ahead of me. I looked forward to it and I dreaded it. The Jetta does not have a DVD player. And two of my children now need a bathroom break. This trip had the potential to be ugly despite going only half the distance.
Surprisingly, however, the trip went off without too many set backs. I had intended on leaving the house by 6am, but it ended up being 6:30. This first set back being my own doing. Hey, a girl has to see the future queen of England at least get down the aisle. We somehow managed to stop every 2-3 hours after that. The girls had their pillows, blankets and one special toy apiece. I had easily accessible snacks and drinks, and a charged/loaded iPod. YES! Turns out that an iPod is just as good as a DVD player.
With so much travel, I have found over the years that I get 'attached' to my fellow travelers. That there are other family travelers along the same stretch of highway can be comforting and a decent gauge of progress. I shared the road with a Jeep with a license plate that said "TEXN4EVR" (and yes, I loved that and would like to steal it for my own, but find myself married to someone not from Texas who would never allow it), a Kia SUV with the plate "PUGLUVR" (I'm not keen on pugs, but I have a sweet friend who is), and an extra large, dually Doge Ram four door truck (I follwed this family forever... at least 600 miles). And to top off the list, I shared the road with Lady Gaga. I'm personally not a fan, but it was hilarious to see other cars on the road slow down and the see all the cell phones out snapping pictures as they drove by. And, of course, I shamelessly joined the masses and whipped my phone out, too.
There was one stretch of road, however, that threw my momentum out the window. About 7-8 hours down the road in southern Virginia, all traffic slowed down for what was posted as "road work". It was work, all right. Not paving or striping or what one thinks of with construction. The highway quickly became a parking lot. Not from the the road work, but severe rubbernecking. It's one of those moments in life where time slows down and your mind feels numb as it tries to keep up with the intake of information from the eyes and to emotionally process those images. It has been years since I have seen tornado damage, but I have never seen it up so close before. The tops of trees were completely twisted off, hundreds of trailers from a truck stop littered the median and the shoulder of the road. One trailer rested heavily in the median, about 15 feet from me, battered and smashed.
As I was processing the view from my side of the car, Evelynn asked "Mom, what are those people doing?" I looked out her window and was unable to talk for a moment. The emotional understanding became greater than the images. Homes had been levelled, others a dumping ground for the trailers across the street. These were homes and the families were searching through the rubble. For some homes, the structure was still visible. A few of the homes were left with the foundation. It was one of those moments as a parent, that I wanted to hide her eyes and not have to explain the images, but I knew there was no choice in this matter. We have talked about tornadoes (having spent some minutes in the basement the week before for one), but this was more real than anything I could have said. She understood the images and she began to understand the emotions of loss.
With so many miles logged and thousands more in the future, there was bound to be a trip where there would be little I could do to prevent her from seeing some kind of devastation. I think we handled it well. We slowly moved on and put it behind us. For those of us on the road, it was a brief period of humbling reality, understanding that everything we know can fall apart in a matter of seconds. The remaining hours of travel went smoothly, but Evelynn revisited the conversation many times. It's hard enough for an adult to process and I'm glad that we've had open dialogue about it.
Surprisingly, however, the trip went off without too many set backs. I had intended on leaving the house by 6am, but it ended up being 6:30. This first set back being my own doing. Hey, a girl has to see the future queen of England at least get down the aisle. We somehow managed to stop every 2-3 hours after that. The girls had their pillows, blankets and one special toy apiece. I had easily accessible snacks and drinks, and a charged/loaded iPod. YES! Turns out that an iPod is just as good as a DVD player.
With so much travel, I have found over the years that I get 'attached' to my fellow travelers. That there are other family travelers along the same stretch of highway can be comforting and a decent gauge of progress. I shared the road with a Jeep with a license plate that said "TEXN4EVR" (and yes, I loved that and would like to steal it for my own, but find myself married to someone not from Texas who would never allow it), a Kia SUV with the plate "PUGLUVR" (I'm not keen on pugs, but I have a sweet friend who is), and an extra large, dually Doge Ram four door truck (I follwed this family forever... at least 600 miles). And to top off the list, I shared the road with Lady Gaga. I'm personally not a fan, but it was hilarious to see other cars on the road slow down and the see all the cell phones out snapping pictures as they drove by. And, of course, I shamelessly joined the masses and whipped my phone out, too.
There was one stretch of road, however, that threw my momentum out the window. About 7-8 hours down the road in southern Virginia, all traffic slowed down for what was posted as "road work". It was work, all right. Not paving or striping or what one thinks of with construction. The highway quickly became a parking lot. Not from the the road work, but severe rubbernecking. It's one of those moments in life where time slows down and your mind feels numb as it tries to keep up with the intake of information from the eyes and to emotionally process those images. It has been years since I have seen tornado damage, but I have never seen it up so close before. The tops of trees were completely twisted off, hundreds of trailers from a truck stop littered the median and the shoulder of the road. One trailer rested heavily in the median, about 15 feet from me, battered and smashed.
As I was processing the view from my side of the car, Evelynn asked "Mom, what are those people doing?" I looked out her window and was unable to talk for a moment. The emotional understanding became greater than the images. Homes had been levelled, others a dumping ground for the trailers across the street. These were homes and the families were searching through the rubble. For some homes, the structure was still visible. A few of the homes were left with the foundation. It was one of those moments as a parent, that I wanted to hide her eyes and not have to explain the images, but I knew there was no choice in this matter. We have talked about tornadoes (having spent some minutes in the basement the week before for one), but this was more real than anything I could have said. She understood the images and she began to understand the emotions of loss.
With so many miles logged and thousands more in the future, there was bound to be a trip where there would be little I could do to prevent her from seeing some kind of devastation. I think we handled it well. We slowly moved on and put it behind us. For those of us on the road, it was a brief period of humbling reality, understanding that everything we know can fall apart in a matter of seconds. The remaining hours of travel went smoothly, but Evelynn revisited the conversation many times. It's hard enough for an adult to process and I'm glad that we've had open dialogue about it.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
The Oddities of Spring
I have waited months for Spring to throw off the frost of winter and it has attempted it several times. Now that greenery is returning and buds are blooming, I am wondering two things:
1) Why is summer already crowding in on my jubilation of spring? I waited six months for spring, the least it could do is let me revel in the warm sun and newness of life without breaking into a sweat. Because, to be completely honest, once I knew that I was leaving Texas for Pennsylvania, I was elated to finally experience all FOUR seasons. I guess, as most high expectations go, I was fooled into thinking that out of twelve months, each quarter would be a different season. I realize now the folly. It's six months of winter, two months of autumn, three months of summer and one month of spring. I should be happy considering I came from seven months of sweltering summer, one month of coolish autumn, three months of winter that combines the look of the frozen dead with temperatures normally reserved for the months of autumn/spring, and one month of something, I'm not sure what, that rounds out the year. I would like to see my flowers bloom before the temperature hits 85 degrees. That really does not sound like too much to ask. Is it?
2)Why don't my children understand Spring the way I want them to? Evelynn is a bit of a conundrum regarding spring. Yesterday, the windows were open and the breeze was flowing through the house that has been closed up tight for six months. It was lovely. The smells of the neighbors tulips, the large trees in bloom beside our house, the blooms from the tree across the street and even the fresh smell of laundry from my dryer vent outside wafted through my home, rejuvenating the spring in my step and pushing out the walls that had been closing in on me in recent weeks. "Isn't this amazing?" I asked Evelynn. Her answer, "My room stinks. What is that smell?" That smell is called 'freshness' and it comes from the tree outside her window... and she doesn't like it. She cannot be my child.
There is also the curious way Evelynn and Caelan refuse to acknowledge the science of how flowers grow. No matter how many times I've explained the process, they have chosen not to believe that flowers grow from seeds. Now as the 'flowers' they have picked are crammed back into the dirt in the backyard, I'm waiting for the moment when it dawns on them that they will not grow. Not to mention that I doubt their father wants dandelions planted in the garden.
They also don't seem to understand that flowers last much longer when not picked for enjoyment. I hope they learn that before my peonies and hydrangeas bloom, but maybe the lesson will be better learned if they try to pick my roses... hmmm...
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Time Management or Lack Thereof
Tomorrow evening, I will be teaching a ladies' class on Time Management. A week ago, I jokingly updated my Facebook status by saying that I was "teaching a ladies' class on time management next Wednesday. I started working on it last month. And I will more than likely be scrambling to finish it before delivery." And it would appear that the scrambling has begun. So, why am I blogging and not finishing the lesson? Because I live in a land of sometimes ill-controlled chaos and my mind needs a good clearing before the lesson commences.
My tetris grid is smashed at the moment. I've begged, even pleaded with my kids to give me a break today so I can finish. Apparently, that means that they need to cover the dog with shaving cream, eat incessantly, spray an entire can of Glade throughout the house and all over the floors, bounce on the beds, and they've taken every opportunity to strip. Between the odors of the shaving cream and the Glade, I'm on the border of migraine territory, the moment when any type of time management goes out the window.
So, it's naptime... indefinitely. Why would I be chosen to do a lesson on time management? I'm a mother three kids under the age of five. Time is not managed. It's saying "Thank you, Lord, I made it through another day." Now, to finish... To be continued, I'm sure.
My tetris grid is smashed at the moment. I've begged, even pleaded with my kids to give me a break today so I can finish. Apparently, that means that they need to cover the dog with shaving cream, eat incessantly, spray an entire can of Glade throughout the house and all over the floors, bounce on the beds, and they've taken every opportunity to strip. Between the odors of the shaving cream and the Glade, I'm on the border of migraine territory, the moment when any type of time management goes out the window.
So, it's naptime... indefinitely. Why would I be chosen to do a lesson on time management? I'm a mother three kids under the age of five. Time is not managed. It's saying "Thank you, Lord, I made it through another day." Now, to finish... To be continued, I'm sure.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)