It's hard to describe what followed; I can only tell you that it was absolutely The Best dinner at a restaurant ever. In my life.
No more words, just pictures (fully gallery here).
Monday, October 26, 2009
Date night at Uchi
Last Monday, Greg turned 32. Usually, he can't think of anything he wants or would like to do for his birthday, but this year, he decided that we would go on a date to a the world renowned sushi restaurant in Austin, Uchi.
It's hard to describe what followed; I can only tell you that it was absolutely The Best dinner at a restaurant ever. In my life.
No more words, just pictures (fully gallery here).
It's hard to describe what followed; I can only tell you that it was absolutely The Best dinner at a restaurant ever. In my life.
No more words, just pictures (fully gallery here).
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
To homeschool or not to homeschool: our family's choice
NOTE: It is my dearest hope that this post does not offend anyone. I fully realize that the method of schooling a child is up to every individual family, and that it is a personal choice. I also realize that for some families, homeschooling has never been a consideration or an option, and that is perfectly fine.
Greg and I were both homeschooled, so this seemed an obvious place for us to start in our ideas for our own children. Please keep this in mind when you read the following. What you will read below is simply our family's journey through the educational landscape thus far.
Last year, I decided to take a stab at homeschooling. I knew that it would be challenging with the three children while pregnant with Billy and Greg deployed, but at first, it was kind of exciting. I loved sitting on the couch with them to read -- not only for cuddle time, but with the intention of learning. I loved seeing them "get" something for the first time, and hearing their brilliant questions about things that I didn't always have answers for. I loved having the opportunity to be there, right next to Sparky and Max as they each sounded out their first words. It was thrilling to see them start to put the alphabet together, and to learn what it meant to write numbers and letters on a page.
On the flip side of this, however, every homeschooling day was a major challenge in balancing the teaching of the boys, and ensuring that I was really caring for Daisy. She, of course, had no interest in the chapter books or the math homework, or the slow, stop-start reading of the boys struggling through their first books. She wanted to race all around the living room, shouting things, singing songs, and trying to distract the boys in any way she could from what they were trying to do (or what I was trying to teach). This was understandable of course -- she's a toddler, and she needs me too. Every day was a struggle, an uphill climb.
In the morning, we'd eat breakfast, I'd tidy the kitchen, then we'd start school around 10am. We'd finish by 12, and eat lunch. By the time we were done eating and cleaning up after that, it was naptime. After naptime, I had to start preparations for dinner, and after dinner is clean-up (once again!), play, clean-up the toys (GAHH!!), and bedtime. I started to realize that homeschooling, for us, meant that it had to be our life, entirely. I was getting exhausted and burned out, and we hadn't even been at it for a complete semester. I felt like I was just about to be a failure.
Yes, we could have gone out on walks and playground visits and playgroups in the morning, leaving the afternoon for schooling while Daisy napped (so that we wouldn't have to worry about her distractions and needs), and but by that point in the day, everyone is tired and crabby and at least needs to take a "quiet time" -- especially me! After an entire day of people needing me and talking to me and grabbing on to me for something, anything, everything, I really need a break. Generally speaking, it's a bad idea for the mother of a bunch of children to just up and go STARK RAVING MAD.
I also could have gone about things in a more "unschooling" method like my mom did (who managed to homeschool all 9 of us, and several of us all the way through highschool), in which she often provided direction and inspiration, and then let us run with it ourselves, but I'm too much of a control freak for that, and need to know that my children are at least on level, if not exceeding, all of their traditionally schooled peers (i.e., I would not be comfortable with them excelling above their grade at reading, while being behind in math, trusting that we'd catch up later). Also, when my brother Caleb and my sister Hannah and I were very little, my mom did some co-op teaching with a small group of her friends, and so we were still able to get a little bit of a "real school" feeling, while taking some of the pressure off of her. My mom is an incredible person, and the longer that I am a mother myself, the more I respect and appreciate the sacrifice she gave of her time and energy while raising and teaching us. However, I digress.
As the homeschooling weeks ticked by, closer to Billy's birth, I often wondered how he would change things. Once he was born, and I had a nursing baby to care for, I realized that there was no way that I could manage to homeschool my children while maintaining sanity. I would literally have no day, no life. My every single waking moment would have had to be strictly organized, teaching the boys between the overwhelming needs of a baby and toddler combined. The idea was beyond overwhelming; it felt impossible.
When Greg first came here to Texas to find our new house, he decided to scout school districts as well. One day he called me and told me about this house, adding that it had an excellent Elementary school nearby...and I nearly cried. I cannot describe the relief that rushed over me when I realized that it might be possible to send them to a decent school, and what's more, that it was Greg's idea.
A few days after we moved here, I went over to the school with the boys to meet the school staff, and check out teachers and classrooms. I immediately felt a sense of peace and belonging, and the boys started to get excited. It was obvious from the start that the school was well run with people who really seemed to care about the students. ThePre -K and Kindergarten classes are arranged in a playfully educational way, and the curriculum is full of fun and color. I enrolled them that day (Sept. 22nd), and the next morning...
These two guys set off for their first day of school.
All day back at home, I wondered if it had been the right decision, if they would be OK without me, if I was ready to give them up to the school system for the majority of their weekdays. I wondered if Max would have emotional melt-downs, and if he would be treated tenderly and firmly. I wondered if they would be able to draw Sparky out, and make sure he felt included with the rest of the classroom. I wondered if either of my boys would fall through the educational cracks, and regress in their learning.
Max's class lets out an hour before Sparky's does, and at last, it was time to pick him up.
(A teacher walks each child across the school driveway to their parents for accountability in traffic)
It was so good to see him again. I had missed him like crazy. I felt slightly sick, and wasn't sure if I would be able to manage it the next day...and the day after that...and the day after that...
It was raining, so we camped out for snacks and visiting while we waited for Sparky's class to let out.
While he didn't have much to say about his day besides the color of his milk ("I had chocolate milk for lunch. And that's all. And I don't remember anything else. I did nothin' today."), he seemed remarkably unscathed by the experience.
Even... normal. Maybe this was going to be OK after all.
At last, it was time to get Sparky.
(Walking towards us in the rain with his teacher, tongue out, of course, as always.)
Suddenly they both had about 8-million things to tell me, all at once.
We continue to view this school with a wait-and-see attitude, ready to pull them out to homeschool again if it becomes necessary. However, by the look on Sparky's face, that may not need to be anytime soon.
Greg and I were both homeschooled, so this seemed an obvious place for us to start in our ideas for our own children. Please keep this in mind when you read the following. What you will read below is simply our family's journey through the educational landscape thus far.
Last year, I decided to take a stab at homeschooling. I knew that it would be challenging with the three children while pregnant with Billy and Greg deployed, but at first, it was kind of exciting. I loved sitting on the couch with them to read -- not only for cuddle time, but with the intention of learning. I loved seeing them "get" something for the first time, and hearing their brilliant questions about things that I didn't always have answers for. I loved having the opportunity to be there, right next to Sparky and Max as they each sounded out their first words. It was thrilling to see them start to put the alphabet together, and to learn what it meant to write numbers and letters on a page.
On the flip side of this, however, every homeschooling day was a major challenge in balancing the teaching of the boys, and ensuring that I was really caring for Daisy. She, of course, had no interest in the chapter books or the math homework, or the slow, stop-start reading of the boys struggling through their first books. She wanted to race all around the living room, shouting things, singing songs, and trying to distract the boys in any way she could from what they were trying to do (or what I was trying to teach). This was understandable of course -- she's a toddler, and she needs me too. Every day was a struggle, an uphill climb.
In the morning, we'd eat breakfast, I'd tidy the kitchen, then we'd start school around 10am. We'd finish by 12, and eat lunch. By the time we were done eating and cleaning up after that, it was naptime. After naptime, I had to start preparations for dinner, and after dinner is clean-up (once again!), play, clean-up the toys (GAHH!!), and bedtime. I started to realize that homeschooling, for us, meant that it had to be our life, entirely. I was getting exhausted and burned out, and we hadn't even been at it for a complete semester. I felt like I was just about to be a failure.
Yes, we could have gone out on walks and playground visits and playgroups in the morning, leaving the afternoon for schooling while Daisy napped (so that we wouldn't have to worry about her distractions and needs), and but by that point in the day, everyone is tired and crabby and at least needs to take a "quiet time" -- especially me! After an entire day of people needing me and talking to me and grabbing on to me for something, anything, everything, I really need a break. Generally speaking, it's a bad idea for the mother of a bunch of children to just up and go STARK RAVING MAD.
I also could have gone about things in a more "unschooling" method like my mom did (who managed to homeschool all 9 of us, and several of us all the way through highschool), in which she often provided direction and inspiration, and then let us run with it ourselves, but I'm too much of a control freak for that, and need to know that my children are at least on level, if not exceeding, all of their traditionally schooled peers (i.e., I would not be comfortable with them excelling above their grade at reading, while being behind in math, trusting that we'd catch up later). Also, when my brother Caleb and my sister Hannah and I were very little, my mom did some co-op teaching with a small group of her friends, and so we were still able to get a little bit of a "real school" feeling, while taking some of the pressure off of her. My mom is an incredible person, and the longer that I am a mother myself, the more I respect and appreciate the sacrifice she gave of her time and energy while raising and teaching us. However, I digress.
As the homeschooling weeks ticked by, closer to Billy's birth, I often wondered how he would change things. Once he was born, and I had a nursing baby to care for, I realized that there was no way that I could manage to homeschool my children while maintaining sanity. I would literally have no day, no life. My every single waking moment would have had to be strictly organized, teaching the boys between the overwhelming needs of a baby and toddler combined. The idea was beyond overwhelming; it felt impossible.
When Greg first came here to Texas to find our new house, he decided to scout school districts as well. One day he called me and told me about this house, adding that it had an excellent Elementary school nearby...and I nearly cried. I cannot describe the relief that rushed over me when I realized that it might be possible to send them to a decent school, and what's more, that it was Greg's idea.
A few days after we moved here, I went over to the school with the boys to meet the school staff, and check out teachers and classrooms. I immediately felt a sense of peace and belonging, and the boys started to get excited. It was obvious from the start that the school was well run with people who really seemed to care about the students. ThePre -K and Kindergarten classes are arranged in a playfully educational way, and the curriculum is full of fun and color. I enrolled them that day (Sept. 22nd), and the next morning...
These two guys set off for their first day of school.
All day back at home, I wondered if it had been the right decision, if they would be OK without me, if I was ready to give them up to the school system for the majority of their weekdays. I wondered if Max would have emotional melt-downs, and if he would be treated tenderly and firmly. I wondered if they would be able to draw Sparky out, and make sure he felt included with the rest of the classroom. I wondered if either of my boys would fall through the educational cracks, and regress in their learning.
Max's class lets out an hour before Sparky's does, and at last, it was time to pick him up.
(A teacher walks each child across the school driveway to their parents for accountability in traffic)
It was so good to see him again. I had missed him like crazy. I felt slightly sick, and wasn't sure if I would be able to manage it the next day...and the day after that...and the day after that...
It was raining, so we camped out for snacks and visiting while we waited for Sparky's class to let out.
While he didn't have much to say about his day besides the color of his milk ("I had chocolate milk for lunch. And that's all. And I don't remember anything else. I did nothin' today."), he seemed remarkably unscathed by the experience.
Even... normal. Maybe this was going to be OK after all.
At last, it was time to get Sparky.
(Walking towards us in the rain with his teacher, tongue out, of course, as always.)
Suddenly they both had about 8-million things to tell me, all at once.
We continue to view this school with a wait-and-see attitude, ready to pull them out to homeschool again if it becomes necessary. However, by the look on Sparky's face, that may not need to be anytime soon.
Friday, October 02, 2009
Swamp Monster Cubba
In the last week or so before we moved out of our house in Germany, I started on a 4-oz-bump of Organic Merino in the Swamp Monster colorway from Spunky Eclectic. I continued to work on it in the hotel, then finished spinning the two bobbins of singles at my parents' house. Finally, a week after arriving in the States, I plied it at a friend's house (the local spin/knit circle that I attend whenever I'm visiting my parents').
At my in-laws, I swatched my new yarn. This is not the most exciting picture, but I always find it interesting to learn others' methods of swatching. Whenever I change to the next needle size, I do YO, K2tog to coordinate with the needle size just used. That way I keep track of what I did later. I used to think I'd remember, but now, with 4 children, I don't take a chance on anything, especially my memory!
I liked the feel of the fabric knit up on size 3 needles at 22 sts to 4 inches, so I immediately cast on for a Cubba hat by Woolly Wormhead, and kitchnered up the top just as we were driving to the airport to fly to Texas.
My only modification is that I made the largest size, but knit it 6" tall instead of 5-1/2". Babies grow so fast; I wanted to make sure that it has a chance of fitting him for the entire season! Also, I knit the I-cord ties to a generous 10-1/2 inches instead of the 8-1/2 in the pattern. I'm not a fan of struggling to tie too-short ties under a drooly, chubby chin.
As always, Woolly Wormhead's designs are as charming to knit as they are to look at. The I-cord ties and earflaps are knit first, separately, then joined with a backwards loop cast-on. After that, the whole thing is knit in the round with no shaping at all. The pattern changes to a diagonal rib of sorts for the body of the hat.
I preferred the way the diagonal rib looked on the inside of the work, so I simply turned it inside-out before kitchnering the top together. The little corner "ears" are just far too precious. Most importantly, Billy can't pull it off of his head, making it a practical choice for stroller walks and bike-rides. It would be very sad to have a handspun, handknit hat go missing.
If you're wondering at this point if there's a possibility of me including too many pictures of the little guy, I will assure you that no:
It is simply not possible.
Find out all of the details that there are to know on the Ravelry page, if you care. :)
At my in-laws, I swatched my new yarn. This is not the most exciting picture, but I always find it interesting to learn others' methods of swatching. Whenever I change to the next needle size, I do YO, K2tog to coordinate with the needle size just used. That way I keep track of what I did later. I used to think I'd remember, but now, with 4 children, I don't take a chance on anything, especially my memory!
I liked the feel of the fabric knit up on size 3 needles at 22 sts to 4 inches, so I immediately cast on for a Cubba hat by Woolly Wormhead, and kitchnered up the top just as we were driving to the airport to fly to Texas.
My only modification is that I made the largest size, but knit it 6" tall instead of 5-1/2". Babies grow so fast; I wanted to make sure that it has a chance of fitting him for the entire season! Also, I knit the I-cord ties to a generous 10-1/2 inches instead of the 8-1/2 in the pattern. I'm not a fan of struggling to tie too-short ties under a drooly, chubby chin.
As always, Woolly Wormhead's designs are as charming to knit as they are to look at. The I-cord ties and earflaps are knit first, separately, then joined with a backwards loop cast-on. After that, the whole thing is knit in the round with no shaping at all. The pattern changes to a diagonal rib of sorts for the body of the hat.
I preferred the way the diagonal rib looked on the inside of the work, so I simply turned it inside-out before kitchnering the top together. The little corner "ears" are just far too precious. Most importantly, Billy can't pull it off of his head, making it a practical choice for stroller walks and bike-rides. It would be very sad to have a handspun, handknit hat go missing.
If you're wondering at this point if there's a possibility of me including too many pictures of the little guy, I will assure you that no:
It is simply not possible.
Find out all of the details that there are to know on the Ravelry page, if you care. :)
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Where we've been
Holy heck, this past month has been busy! In the first week of this month, we flew from Germany to the US, and then for the next two weeks spent time visiting with first my family, then Greg's.
We celebrated Sparky's 6th birthday with green cupcakes:
Got the flu:
Spent time with family:
LOTS of family:
Enjoyed the outdoors:
Had a hot Campfire Date with my favorite guy:
And introduced a few cousins to each other for the first time:
(From left: my sister Hannah's son Chaz, my cousin Becky's daughter M, and Billy)
They weren't too sure about it, but I'm fairly certain they'll be friends.
I also managed to knit and even spin, but I'll save that for another post. For now, we are in our new home in Texas at last, and are nearly completely unpacked (applause welcome). We are really enjoying our new surroundings, and especially relishing in the fact that we can once again settle into our very own place. My friends, it's good to be home.
P.S. If you happen to be the sort of person who likes tons of pictures of babies and children and oh-my-dear-goodness-every-detail-of-the-last-month, feel free to visit the Flickr sets: Visit to PA Sept. 09, and Visit to NY Sept. 09.
We celebrated Sparky's 6th birthday with green cupcakes:
Got the flu:
Spent time with family:
LOTS of family:
Enjoyed the outdoors:
Had a hot Campfire Date with my favorite guy:
And introduced a few cousins to each other for the first time:
(From left: my sister Hannah's son Chaz, my cousin Becky's daughter M, and Billy)
They weren't too sure about it, but I'm fairly certain they'll be friends.
I also managed to knit and even spin, but I'll save that for another post. For now, we are in our new home in Texas at last, and are nearly completely unpacked (applause welcome). We are really enjoying our new surroundings, and especially relishing in the fact that we can once again settle into our very own place. My friends, it's good to be home.
P.S. If you happen to be the sort of person who likes tons of pictures of babies and children and oh-my-dear-goodness-every-detail-of-the-last-month, feel free to visit the Flickr sets: Visit to PA Sept. 09, and Visit to NY Sept. 09.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
Clean house
Moving: busy at best, stressful and hectic at worst. By the lack of blogging this past week, you may assume (rightly) that it has been the the latter two. I am so bored of the details now, and so tired of even thinking about all of it that I don't want to drag you all through it. The bright part: the movers did, indeed show up the next day (early!), and packed us out in about 10 hours. They were brisk and efficient, and respectful of our things.
The dark part: we are significantly lighter in the wallet, due to some crooked dealing by the landlord and his wife. A word of advice to friends near and far: when you move into a place, take pictures of ANYTHING that might be even slightly worn or damaged. Even slightly. Print these off and write clauses into your rental contract, if possible, or at least save them in your own files. It may be the only thing standing between you and 2000 Euro. Especially if you happen to live with little people who look like this.
Just sayin'.
I am still reaching within myself to find forgiveness for the woman who has personally scorned my housekeeping skills, the man who has forced us into funding the remodeling of his house. Truly, I think that forgiveness and grace will have to be a divine gift in this situation. We will move on now, because sincerely, I have nothing more to say about all of that. I am bored to tears by the whole mess, and don't want to leave Germany with a bitter taste in my mouth.
Looking beyond all of that, it's hard leaving. Living in Europe has been, largely, a great adventure for us. I wish I'd made it more of a priority to learn the German language, and it would have been nice to have Greg with us more often, but other than that, I have to say that I have no regrets.
(Our last visit to our favorite restaurant in town -- a French pizzaria called Toucy)
It was sad to take a last walk through our little town last week on our way to the Friday farmer's market (on Aug. 21st).
We said goodbye to the Egg Lady, and to the Cheese Truck Couple, and then, at last, to the dear lady at the local yarn shop. I had told her a week prior that we'd be moving, so when we stopped by, she ran to the back room and brought out little gifts (unexpectedly!) for each of us. Sparky, Max and Daisy had little packets of gummy bears, bubbles, stamps, etc., Billy had a hand-crocheted stuffed ball, and for me, she crocheted a beautiful summer-weight scarf, in the perfect shade of blue. She and I both had tears in our eyes as we said goodbye. It's kind of hard to say goodbye forever.
(Billy was napping at home with Greg, while the movers packed out our things)
On Sunday night (Aug. 23rd), we moved into the hotel. It's cramped in here, but at least all of the cleaning and the packing and the sick feeling of inevitable disruption is past. We're living out of suitcases, and we still have a trans-Atlantic flight ahead of us, but it feels really good to have all of the most difficult bits behind us.
This past Saturday, Greg hung out with the children while I went to my very last Stitch 'n Bitch knitting group. It was strange to sit around the table, knitting, eating lunch, chatting as usual...but knowing that this would be the very last time this particular group of ladies would share time together.
When we arrived in Germany, we had two children; we are leaving with four. The memories we are taking with us are precious, and while it is sad that it is time to go, we look forward to the future adventures to be had at our new home in Texas.
The dark part: we are significantly lighter in the wallet, due to some crooked dealing by the landlord and his wife. A word of advice to friends near and far: when you move into a place, take pictures of ANYTHING that might be even slightly worn or damaged. Even slightly. Print these off and write clauses into your rental contract, if possible, or at least save them in your own files. It may be the only thing standing between you and 2000 Euro. Especially if you happen to live with little people who look like this.
Just sayin'.
I am still reaching within myself to find forgiveness for the woman who has personally scorned my housekeeping skills, the man who has forced us into funding the remodeling of his house. Truly, I think that forgiveness and grace will have to be a divine gift in this situation. We will move on now, because sincerely, I have nothing more to say about all of that. I am bored to tears by the whole mess, and don't want to leave Germany with a bitter taste in my mouth.
Looking beyond all of that, it's hard leaving. Living in Europe has been, largely, a great adventure for us. I wish I'd made it more of a priority to learn the German language, and it would have been nice to have Greg with us more often, but other than that, I have to say that I have no regrets.
(Our last visit to our favorite restaurant in town -- a French pizzaria called Toucy)
It was sad to take a last walk through our little town last week on our way to the Friday farmer's market (on Aug. 21st).
We said goodbye to the Egg Lady, and to the Cheese Truck Couple, and then, at last, to the dear lady at the local yarn shop. I had told her a week prior that we'd be moving, so when we stopped by, she ran to the back room and brought out little gifts (unexpectedly!) for each of us. Sparky, Max and Daisy had little packets of gummy bears, bubbles, stamps, etc., Billy had a hand-crocheted stuffed ball, and for me, she crocheted a beautiful summer-weight scarf, in the perfect shade of blue. She and I both had tears in our eyes as we said goodbye. It's kind of hard to say goodbye forever.
(Billy was napping at home with Greg, while the movers packed out our things)
On Sunday night (Aug. 23rd), we moved into the hotel. It's cramped in here, but at least all of the cleaning and the packing and the sick feeling of inevitable disruption is past. We're living out of suitcases, and we still have a trans-Atlantic flight ahead of us, but it feels really good to have all of the most difficult bits behind us.
This past Saturday, Greg hung out with the children while I went to my very last Stitch 'n Bitch knitting group. It was strange to sit around the table, knitting, eating lunch, chatting as usual...but knowing that this would be the very last time this particular group of ladies would share time together.
When we arrived in Germany, we had two children; we are leaving with four. The memories we are taking with us are precious, and while it is sad that it is time to go, we look forward to the future adventures to be had at our new home in Texas.
Blogged with the Flock Browser
Thursday, August 20, 2009
You Get What You Pay For or Why Moving Is Super Fun
This past week has been a time of nearly constant motion. We paced ourselves so that the work didn't become overwhelming, but it did seem, at times, that it would never be done (at least to me. Greg has been incredibly confidant and relaxed for the most part. I just like to tweak out sometimes for the sheer joy of it).
When the Army moves an individual or a family, they pay movers to do all of the work. You don't actually have to do anything besides packing your suitcase for the flight (which they also pay for), and cleaning up the empty house afterwords. However, personally, I'm not a fan of opening a box at The New House, and discovering that it really should have been labeled Desk Clutter Pile... and another named Nightstand Junk Yard... etc. Also, within the rooms themselves, there were certain areas that needed to be organized. This pretty much meant that I had to weed through and re-organize ALL of my things, since I don't live a terribly ordered existence. You could say that the places I live in have a tendency to look...er...lived in rather quickly. There are even some people who say that perhaps I have a bit of a Saving Stuff problem that kind of looks like I'm decorating with piles of junk. Kind of. But that's just some people's opinion.
Moving right along.
The moving company overseer (chief?) came by a few days ago to see how many boxes and time they might need for our household. We were scheduled for a pack-up today, and a pack-out tomorrow. This morning, Greg and I woke up at 6:30am to do the finishing touches on the house; the movers were supposed to be here sometime after 8:00am. Several hours later, the transportation lady (who coordinates the move) arrived, and was surprised to find no workers packing our house. A few phone calls and about 2 hours later, we got a return call from the moving company overseer, matter-of-factly stating that "Of course, we're coming tomorrow, and it will be no problem to pack you up and out on the same day. Of course." Of course.
Seeing as it's quite fun to be functioning in a holding pattern of manic cleanliness and organization with 4 small children, we see no problem with this, and we look forward to future moves. Heck, let's do a move every weekend! YAY!! International moves are so inspiring. The way people work together, communicate, and function as a unit. It's really quite beautiful.
I'm going to go cry into a giant mug of mocha. If you need me, I'll be rocking, arms over my head, in a corner somewhere in the attic. God help us all.
When the Army moves an individual or a family, they pay movers to do all of the work. You don't actually have to do anything besides packing your suitcase for the flight (which they also pay for), and cleaning up the empty house afterwords. However, personally, I'm not a fan of opening a box at The New House, and discovering that it really should have been labeled Desk Clutter Pile... and another named Nightstand Junk Yard... etc. Also, within the rooms themselves, there were certain areas that needed to be organized. This pretty much meant that I had to weed through and re-organize ALL of my things, since I don't live a terribly ordered existence. You could say that the places I live in have a tendency to look...er...lived in rather quickly. There are even some people who say that perhaps I have a bit of a Saving Stuff problem that kind of looks like I'm decorating with piles of junk. Kind of. But that's just some people's opinion.
Moving right along.
The moving company overseer (chief?) came by a few days ago to see how many boxes and time they might need for our household. We were scheduled for a pack-up today, and a pack-out tomorrow. This morning, Greg and I woke up at 6:30am to do the finishing touches on the house; the movers were supposed to be here sometime after 8:00am. Several hours later, the transportation lady (who coordinates the move) arrived, and was surprised to find no workers packing our house. A few phone calls and about 2 hours later, we got a return call from the moving company overseer, matter-of-factly stating that "Of course, we're coming tomorrow, and it will be no problem to pack you up and out on the same day. Of course." Of course.
Seeing as it's quite fun to be functioning in a holding pattern of manic cleanliness and organization with 4 small children, we see no problem with this, and we look forward to future moves. Heck, let's do a move every weekend! YAY!! International moves are so inspiring. The way people work together, communicate, and function as a unit. It's really quite beautiful.
I'm going to go cry into a giant mug of mocha. If you need me, I'll be rocking, arms over my head, in a corner somewhere in the attic. God help us all.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Photo-post (i.e. I can't find the brain cells to use my words)
Since Greg got home on Wednesday morning, we've been in full-force Clean And Organize mode. I have several posts floating around in my head, half-formulated, but I don't have the time to sit down and write them out properly just yet. In their stead, here are some pictures of a rather lovely date that Greg took me out on just before he left for Texas a few weeks ago. This is our absolute favorite restaurant in the area, run by a three-star chef with an in-house Metzger (Butcher).
(The waitress always serves ice water to Americans -- most restaurants here don't even have ice!)
(The waitress always serves ice water to Americans -- most restaurants here don't even have ice!)
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Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Tree Of Life UPDATE
PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT: The Tree of Life Shawl is dead. It's short but unhappy life ended in a ripping session best left undescribed.
Complaints against said pattern include possible attempt to mangle the brain of a tired mommy over 10 days time, along with a remarkable effort to maim a pristine skein of Handmaiden Seasilk through tinking (knit - unknit, knit - unknit.) To add to the list of greviences, the pattern had also taken away the joy of knitting with the Seasilk -- a crime that could not be forgiven.
The knitter holds no resentment towards the pattern or the designer, and even dreams of someday knitting it again... but for now, the yarn has been given new hope, being born anew into the Moonlight Sonata Shawl (Rav. link). The first pattern repeat has been completed, and all things appear to be as they should. Prognosis: hopeful.
Complaints against said pattern include possible attempt to mangle the brain of a tired mommy over 10 days time, along with a remarkable effort to maim a pristine skein of Handmaiden Seasilk through tinking (knit - unknit, knit - unknit.) To add to the list of greviences, the pattern had also taken away the joy of knitting with the Seasilk -- a crime that could not be forgiven.
The knitter holds no resentment towards the pattern or the designer, and even dreams of someday knitting it again... but for now, the yarn has been given new hope, being born anew into the Moonlight Sonata Shawl (Rav. link). The first pattern repeat has been completed, and all things appear to be as they should. Prognosis: hopeful.
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Sunday, August 09, 2009
If you're happy and you know it...
Some of you have already heard this quote, but I need to share it here for posterity. Max has been biting Sparky and Daisy lately, leaving full sets of teeth marks. Yes, he is 4, and yes, it's awful. Yesterday morning, he bit Sparky, and afterwords, we had the following exchange: "Max, you may never, never, NEVER bite anyone." Max answered, deeply distressed and with great feeling, "But then my teeth won't be sharp and fast enough for lunch!"
******
Greg found a house for us in the Austin area, and has nailed down other details about our new life there as well. Back here in Germany, however, I've been feeling figity and anxious. I feel like there's so much left to be done, yet I have no energy or drive to do it alone. I also can't help but feel slightly put out that I'm the one that has to stay behind with the children, while Greg has this adventure off by himself. Of course, this is a completely unreasonable feeling -- there's no way we could have traded places; neither of us would have been very successful if we'd swapped jobs -- but the feeling's still there all the same. Thankfully, he'll be back in three days. Three days and counting. Every day, Max asks "but when will Daddy be coming home?!"
To add to my own personal complications, I've been attempting to knit the Tree Of Life shawl and it doesn't seem to agree with me; I've had to fix errors in it so many times now that I'm ready to throw it out the window. I won't though, because I like the yarn. I'll try not to throw anything else. (Please note: I cannot tell if it's the pattern that is in error or me -- it has been knit by a few other successfully, so I suspect I am the problem here. This seems to be beyond my current focus-ability.)
Overall, however, home life here has been running along smoothly, and I've managed to keep things interesting and fun for the children so that the time goes by quickly.
Yesterday we walked to the Sandbox Playground (my children have so named it). The trail we take is lined thickly with blackberry bushes, so I brought along a little crate so that we could pick berries along the way to take home. We managed to fill it all the way to the top.
There were also plums, I think, growing along with the blackberries at some point.
Can anyone verify that a plum is, indeed, what this is? (I don't feel like poisoning anyone.)
All of the little cowboys and cowgirl had a good time at the playground.
Daisy rode on this bouncy horse with Sparky:
Then Max thought that it would be fun to do that too:
Daisy felt that it was a little bit too exciting.
We blew Dandelion seeds to repopulate the earth with everyone's favorite weed (I know, I know, the gardeners out there are wincing):
(Max insisted on taking this picture of me)
Billy sat and watched everyone, feeling superior now that he can sit up All By Himself.
When we got home, we all ate Blackberry Fools and snickered at the name.
Whipped cream and a little bit of vanilla sugar boosted these tart berries into a rather lovely little treat.
Yummy.
Well, maybe this week hasn't so bad after all. Maybe it was just the knitting that was bad. Screw that shawl. I'm going to go knit a sock now. (I've downloaded the rental "He's Just Not That Into You". I fully intend to bliss out on empty brain food and mindless knitting.)
******
Greg found a house for us in the Austin area, and has nailed down other details about our new life there as well. Back here in Germany, however, I've been feeling figity and anxious. I feel like there's so much left to be done, yet I have no energy or drive to do it alone. I also can't help but feel slightly put out that I'm the one that has to stay behind with the children, while Greg has this adventure off by himself. Of course, this is a completely unreasonable feeling -- there's no way we could have traded places; neither of us would have been very successful if we'd swapped jobs -- but the feeling's still there all the same. Thankfully, he'll be back in three days. Three days and counting. Every day, Max asks "but when will Daddy be coming home?!"
To add to my own personal complications, I've been attempting to knit the Tree Of Life shawl and it doesn't seem to agree with me; I've had to fix errors in it so many times now that I'm ready to throw it out the window. I won't though, because I like the yarn. I'll try not to throw anything else. (Please note: I cannot tell if it's the pattern that is in error or me -- it has been knit by a few other successfully, so I suspect I am the problem here. This seems to be beyond my current focus-ability.)
Overall, however, home life here has been running along smoothly, and I've managed to keep things interesting and fun for the children so that the time goes by quickly.
Yesterday we walked to the Sandbox Playground (my children have so named it). The trail we take is lined thickly with blackberry bushes, so I brought along a little crate so that we could pick berries along the way to take home. We managed to fill it all the way to the top.
There were also plums, I think, growing along with the blackberries at some point.
Can anyone verify that a plum is, indeed, what this is? (I don't feel like poisoning anyone.)
All of the little cowboys and cowgirl had a good time at the playground.
Daisy rode on this bouncy horse with Sparky:
Then Max thought that it would be fun to do that too:
Daisy felt that it was a little bit too exciting.
We blew Dandelion seeds to repopulate the earth with everyone's favorite weed (I know, I know, the gardeners out there are wincing):
(Max insisted on taking this picture of me)
Billy sat and watched everyone, feeling superior now that he can sit up All By Himself.
When we got home, we all ate Blackberry Fools and snickered at the name.
Whipped cream and a little bit of vanilla sugar boosted these tart berries into a rather lovely little treat.
Yummy.
Well, maybe this week hasn't so bad after all. Maybe it was just the knitting that was bad. Screw that shawl. I'm going to go knit a sock now. (I've downloaded the rental "He's Just Not That Into You". I fully intend to bliss out on empty brain food and mindless knitting.)
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