2011. Wow.

I have been procrastinating my Year In Review post. I don't know how to do it.  I can't say that I will never have such an eventful year again, because. . . you never know.  But it has to be one of the biggest of my life.
New Year's Eve 2010 started at 5 am with a positive pregnancy test.  Elsa and Erik were making coffee, totally unaware of the drama happening behind a door a few feet away.  The wheels were set in motion, and we knew that 2011 was going to be a crazy year.  Good, but crazy.

Jan 1, 2011. Tired and happy.

We flew cross-country to the Pacific NW in March in search of sunny skies (ha) and a break from New England winters. Oops.  Great trip, and the rain was 100% better than snow.

Japanese Garden, Portland, Oregon

Oh yeah, I almost forgot about this part of 2011: In May, I finished  my transitional Doctorate in Physical Therapy and graduated.  Yea!  For the first time since before Elsa was born, I was free from homework.

The rest of the summer sort of sped crazily by until Hurricane Irene blew through, and I was certain that I would go into labor and have to deliver at home in the midst of the storm.  Irene, you were just a passing downpour and a breezy Sunday.  No baby.  After that, time. Just. Stood. Still.  And baby just didn't want out. But luckily she was convinced, and Clara made her dramatic entrance on September 13. 

What followed were some of the most intense weeks of my life, as we packed, had a party, and moved away from our home and friends. . . and recovered from birth and took care of a brand new baby, of course.  I guess you know the rest of the story from there. 

5th Annual Eriktoberfest/ Goodbye Cambridge Party

As I sit here in my 4th home in 4 months, listening to fireworks going off all around me, I am tempted to breathe a sigh of relief.  But not yet.  2012 will be interesting and also full of changes, in ways that will be revealed to us in time.  Yes, it was a crazy year, and parts of it I would not recommend to a friend, but wow.  What a year.  I'm going to miss you, 2011.  Bring it on 2012. Are you ready to top that?

And...we made it!

Well, we left 2 hours later than planned, took 1 hour longer on the road than planned, and had more carsick and poop blowout stops than planned, but we made it to Wiesbaden with a packed-to-the-gills mini-van and four punchy and generally unscathed Heinrichses.  I think tomorrow is New Year's Eve, and we're looking forward to the fireworks. Good night everyone!

Luckily, the rental car had a sticker to remind Erik to keep it under 210 km/h. Can mini-vans REALLY go that fast?

No carseats required in Germany! Whoo hoo! Kidding. Rest stop #2, outfit #2 (for E and C).

Farewell to Wolfenbüttel

I can't tell you how many times I've sped past small town train stations on my way from one city to the next.  Most of the time I look at them and think, "Huh. Wonder what's there?" and don't give it another thought.  I can guarentee that I would have done the same with Wolfenbüttel, if it had not been for the Herzog August Bibliothek that drew Erik, and therefore us, to this generally unknown little town.  Wolfen-what? Where? WHY??  Even the Wolfenbüttel tourism office seems to acknowledge its less-than-prominent place on the tourist route, with the slogan, "Wolfenbüttel: More than you think."

They are right. It was more than I thought it would be.  Not in the sense of, Wow, there's so much to do here, why doesn't anyone know about it? Not just because Jägermeister is made here (oops, did I forget to mention that?).  It has just been the perfect place to begin our experience abroad, and exactly what we needed at first. It's small, it's easy, and the people here have been so good to us. We were fortunate to meet people like Gabi, Elsa's Spielgruppe leader, who played a huge role in Elsa's (and our) life here, and certainly helped her with the transition.

We've had an unusual but great 2 1/2 months here, full of many memories and new experiences.  I arrived here with a one month old baby, kind of delirious and shell-shocked, and have slowly regained my senses (somewhat. Still pretty delirious on most days) and adjusted to my new job as a full-time mom.  We will miss it , as well as the great people we have managed to meet in a short time and would have liked to get to know better.  But time moves on, and so do we.  We'll see what Wiesbaden has in store for us.

Auf wiedersehen, Wolfenbüttel!

Ready to roll out the convoy

Meet Chacho

This is Chacho (on the left).

Or at least, this is who Elsa has decided on as the embodiment of her . . . friend . . . Chacho.  We aren't exactly sure when Chacho entered our lives, since his name was mentioned casually here and there at first (Chacho? Is that a new kid at daycare?), but we think it was sometime last summer.  Over time it became a little clearer to us that Chacho is Elsa's imaginary friend.  Where she got the name Chacho, God only knows.  As time went on and his name was mentioned more frequently and more details were revealed to us, it became clear to us that Chacho was here to stay. Welcome to the family, Chacho.

I've read that this behavior is pretty normal in kids this age (but hey, if any child development specialists are out there and would like to disagree, I'm all ears), and at this point it seems pretty benign and just might be helping our resilient little 2-year-old ride out all the crazy changes in her life in the past 4 months. 

Well, here's what we do know about Chacho.  He is a boy, he has orange hair, and we think he still has a baby sister named Maisie (haven't heard much about her lately though).  His mom's name is Jeannie. This is Jeannie:



Chacho's dad doesn't really get much attention, and at this point still doesn't have a name, but here he is:

Chacho likes pink, green, and orange, likes to ride the carousel at the Christmas market (and we all had to wave to him as he went around while we watched), and otherwise pretty much likes everything that Elsa likes.  Recently she has referred to him as her cousin, but we're not totally sure about that fact.  So Chacho, we've really enjoyed your company, and although you live at the castle across the street, we really hope you'll come with us to Wiesbaden. 

Elsa and Chacho on the carousel (Chacho's in the back)

Christmas in Wolfenbüttel

Just like the ones I used to know? Not really.



Christmas Day 2011, looking at the back of our house and the castle

I couldn't really admit this last week, when reports of stress, last minute madness, no sleep, Christmas parties and concerts were flying around the internet . . . but this has been the most relaxing holiday season in years.  I do miss the craze, but when we are so far removed from a normal life and any sort of social circle, we really had nothing unusual going on.  That could seem lonely, and it did at times, but it also allowed me just to enjoy this time, and watch Elsa catch on to the excitement.


Guess how easy it was to get her to bed on Christmas Eve?

 Clara, to celebrate her first Christmas, gave us the gift of a good night's sleep for the first time in a week.  She and Elsa also gave Erik some great espresso, in order to maximize parental function.

This Christmas challenged me to re-define "home", especially at a time when we don't have a permanent base.  It doesn't feel like we were home for Christmas, but what is home for us?  I think that for the time being, home is wherever the four of us are together.  If that place happens to be a library-owned 18th- century house in Wolfenbüttel, Germany, so be it.  We're home.

A good end to a great day.  Yes, that's spit-up on my shoulder.



Fröhliche Weihnachten!

Just in case your e-mail bounced, we don't have your address, we spaced out and forgot to send it to you (and please realize that this is 100% due to a sleep-deprived stupor!), or we don't know you because you are in Russia, we want to say . . . Merry Christmas!

Make a greeting card

Charlie Brown Dance- The results so far-update!

Well...so...this is what we've got so far.  I have reports of dancing in Nisswa, MN and DePere, WI, and knowing that it happened makes us happy.  Maybe we inspired others with the idea- I will just assume that we did.  If you happened to snap a picture, go ahead and send it whenever- I will update this post as often as necessary!


Erik and Elsa in Wolfenbüttel



J, MC, and T in Roseville, MN (Thanks AM!)

A & J in Nisswa, MN



A in Nisswa (Thanks T!)






Keep them coming!

Photo shoot

I'm in danger of overusing this picture. Please forgive me.

I've already circulated it to family, posted it on Facebook, and used it on my Christmas card.  I'm sorry.  There are just so many miracles wrapped up in this one picture that I can't help myself: 1) &2) Elsa and Clara 3) Elsa agreed (ok I bribed her) to wear the dress 4) Elsa is sitting still 5) Elsa is smiling in a somewhat normal way 6) Clara has managed to keep spit-up off her dress for 5 minutes.  Plus they're just so cute.

It took 39 shots to get one picture perfect, scrapbook-worthy (ahem, hypothetical scrapbook, that is) picture. Most of them looked like this:

You would think we subjected them to a 30 minute photo session.  We didn't. It was 9 minutes, and part of that was spent eating the cookies that I bribed Elsa with.

Look at me. I don't need a cookie break.



We are having a great time playing with a really fun camera, but I have not yet discovered the "good toddler behavior" function.  I better take a look at those help websites again.



I'm done.  Cue the drool.





The Christmas Cookie Sprinkle Snitcher

Along with Christmas stockings and some favorite cookie cutters, a few Christmas stories made it into the giant gear duffel.  I think we did pretty well letting practicality reign for the majority of our packing, but clearly I gave in to nostalgia in the Christmas department. Really, just a little . . . and no one seems to be complaining. 
So here are a few that we (I) couldn't do without: The Night Before Christmas, this sweet little Advent book I bought Elsa last year, and a German Christmas baking/story book from our year in Munich.

Lovely, and normal.  Then there's this beloved weirdo,  The Christmas Cookie Sprinkle Snitcher.  I don't think many people have heard of this one- I certainly had not until I met Erik.  It was a favorite in his family and apparently out of print for many years until 2010, when it was reborn.  Our copy is a taped  and yellowed original bought by my mom on Ebay a few years ago, with a stamp on every third page or so that says "John Dewey Library, Johnson State College, Johnson Vermont". 

The plot is pretty self-evident from the title, but the refrain that gets stuck in our heads is:

"Christmas cookies without sprinkles

Are like raisins without wrinkles

And like sleigh bells without tinkles

Are Christmas cookies without sprinkles."

Well, since Elsa's initiation into the Snitcher cult three weeks ago, she has demanded it at least twice daily and pretty much has it memorized.  I will end this post with a reading, to satisfy your curiosity and show you what a fine work of literature this is.

Christmas cookies

Every year when I was growing up, my grandma baked something like 15 different kinds of Christmas cookies that we would end up eating till Valentines day and beyond. Now you know where my baking and holiday obsession comes from. This means that I'm biologically programmed to get my bake on even more than normal at this time of year.  How can I fight it? However.  A few things have led me to voluntarily scale back this year: 1)We're moving in 2 weeks 2) I don't have co-workers to help me take care of the bounty 3) Of the 3 of us cookie eaters, one has baby weight to get rid of, one is crazy enough without the extra sugar, and one. . . can pretty much eat whatever he wants. Grr. 4) Oh yeah, 2 small kids that leave a person with neither time nor energy to bake.

Despite these things, I thought that making a gingerbread house and decorating sugar cookies would be great, toddler-entertaining, interactive activities. Hmm. Sometimes those ideas of cherished holiday moments are better in theory than in practice, and it's possible that 2 years old is still a little too young. But, I've waited two whole Christmases as a mom to do these things with my daughter, so we did it anyway.

Maybe this wasn't the best year to make my first gingerbread house ever, and maybe following a recipe in a foreign language wasn't the best idea either, but oh well.  Elsa is proud of her gummi bear art, even though it's not exactly prize-winning schmuck.

As for cookies, Elsa needed a bit of coaching to move the sprinkles beyond the first cookie, but she caught on. 



Lucky for us, this was the day before the putzfrau came. 

Clara provided moral support and an occasional squeak of approval.



Good times accomplished. 

3 months!



Another month full of new experiences has gone by already, which means that at 3 months, we have left newborn-hood behind.  I am also entering uncharted territory in my at-home momhood, since I was already back at work at this point with Elsa.  This past week has confirmed my suspicion that babies get way more fun right about the time we have to leave them with someone else.  I am happy to not have to do that this time around.

Sorry Clara. You know how I get sometimes.

Here's what's new in Clara's world: she has reached 12 pounds, got her first vaccines last week, decided to learn how to roll onto her side while Skyping with my parents so she could look at them on the screen, eats her hands, and puts up with a lot of tormenting from her sister.

Also, at 13 weeks, she has now lived in Germany nearly twice as long as she lived in the U.S.  Because of this, of course, she is already fluent in Baby German. 

Goslar

Finally after a third visit to Goslar, this cute little town gets some press.  Just 30 minutes down the track from Wolfenbüttel, it is an easy day trip (or half day, in our case) that we did first with my parents, then with Erik´s, and now on our own. 

Clara taking in the scenery of the German countryside

 It is an incredibly picturesque town located at the foot of the Harz mountains that boasts the Kaiserpfalz, or Emperor's Residence, dating back to the 11th century, and a pretty cool Glockenspiel (you know, the bells that ring and little moving characters come out of the doors and do their thing) that is way more impressive than Munich's.  The attraction this time was to check out the Weihnachtsmarkt and soak up those rays of sun that barely creep over the rooftops before sinking back down for the afternoon, night, and a good chunk of the morning. 

Germans in their natural habitat

Just a few shots of some of the highlights:

Erik and Elsa's Spanferkel (roasted suckling pig) sandwich stand



Elsa with her lebkuchen





No longer homeless

?
You may not have known this, but we are leaving our little town of Wolfenbüttel at the end of this month.  This has always been the plan, but if I talked to you about our Germany plans before we came here, I may have left out this detail because I couldn't handle the thought that we were going to be moving AGAIN during our stay here.  So, we are suddenly in our last few weeks in this little town before heading south to live in Wiesbaden, across the Rhine from Mainz, which is where Erik will begin the second part of his fellowship. 
I have been feeling like we're being thrown from our cozy little nest here in Wolfenbüttel, where our housing is provided and we have everything we need right here.  It was up to us to find our own place in Mainz, a task that has proven to be extremely difficult to do remotely, when neither of us knows the area. We were hitting dead end after dead end, which caused us to make jokes that became less and less funny as the desperation level climbed.  Erik said we would just buy a VW bus and live down by the Rhine, while my version involved buying a tent and camping in the vineyards outside of town . . . or buying my plane ticket back to the U.S. 
Our break came right around Thanksgiving, just minutes after my giant meltdown, and finally became finalized yesterday, which is why we are celebrating the fact that we will not be homeless for the New Year.  So, for the fourth time in a row, we will to move into a new place sight-unseen.  What I DO know, however, is that Wiesbaden has 3 Starbucks.  Danger. 

Just because . . .

She's cute. . . and getting big too fast.