DNA Through the Eyes Of An 8-Year Old

..

Caroline and the things she thinks of out of the blue! She was eating breakfast this morning, and this is how the conversation went:

"Mommy, how many people am I related to by blood?"

"You're related to a lot of people by blood. I can't name them ALL. Why do you ask?"

"Because I was just curious. I'm related to you and Daddy by blood, right?"

"Yes."

"But you and Daddy are not related by blood?"

"We hope not."

"That's confusing. And my Uncle Gordon? I'm related to him by blood?"

"Yes."

"But not my Aunt Tanya?"

"Right. She's family, but we're related to her by her marriage to Uncle Gordon, not by blood."

"Oh..." (sounding disappointed)

(and perking back up again)

"Well, but I share blood with you, right Mom?"

"Yes, you do. But I should clarify..... it's not actual BLOOD we're talking about when we talk about being related by blood. It's more a matter of genes. We share genes, which are---"

"Yeah, I know, the instructions in my cells."

"Right, more or less. So you share genes with me and Daddy because we put our genes together to make you, and that's what we mean when we say 'blood'."

"It's kind of weird knowing that the stuff I'm made of was once a part of you."

"Pretty neat the way it works, huh? How does that make you feel?"

"Old!"

..

I Gave Birth To An X-Acto Knife.

So other than Caroline being Calvin's miniature spitting image, there was one more incident this week which added to the long line of incidents that have sealed the Envelope of The Undeniable; this kid is more him than me. Indeed, other than her inability to get through a day without injuring herself repeatedly, it is becoming clearer and clearer that I was simply her feeding-machine for the 80 months that I carried her in my womb.

Background: Calvin can't cook. Well, ok...he can, but only if there are VERY. SPECIFIC. INSTRUCTIONS.
In the absence of painstakingly specific instructions, he won't even acknowledge that anything can be done with those broccoli florets in the crisper. And taking those cookies out one minute before hand to ensure they stay soft? NO, THE DIRECTIONS DID NOT SAY SO! Adding a splash of chicken broth to the stir-fry instead of ONE EXACTLY-MEASURED tablespoon? Did the directions say to do that? THEN, NO! YOU CANNOT!

In short, cooking is no joy for this man. Even a frozen pizza becomes an endeavor performed on the most treacherous ledge. The pizza will be left in for EXACTLY the 12 minutes the directions say; no more, no less. You want to leave it in an extra minute or two for a crispier crust? Tough, the directive from the proper authority was not given.

Well, guess who inherited Daddy's refusal to take culinary risks?

The other day, she got a treat: one of those Kid Cuisine frozen meals. You know the ones, right? The ones you wish you hadn't read the nutrition label on because you then realize that feeding one to your kid is pretty much the same as giving her a heroin needle, slapping her on the back and saying "Go nuts, Buddy!"? Yes, those.

So she's in the kitchen and she's reading the directions and following them exactly (taking things out of the tray, microwaving, taking the tray out, stirring, adding the previously-removed items, putting it back in....etc) when suddenly she runs across a direction that has Mommy putting breaks on. The photo on the front shows the little fried death-patty in a bun with the whole thing cut in half seemingly at the same time. But the directions...those diabolical directions...seem to call for the cutting of the bun and the fried death patty separately before the joining of the six peices back together again. And, according to the directions, she was about to get a knife, cut the patty in half, then cut the bun in half top-to-bottom (it's already halved length-wise) and then assemble the whole thing back the way it should be. This seemed a waste of time to me (as well as an unnecessary prolonging of the time she's holding a knife), when the patty can just be put IN the bun and the whole thing cut ONCE at the SAME TIME. And I pointed this out to her. See, I said air-demonstrating, you can just put the whole thing together and THEN cut. It'll come out more evenly and save you some cutting! Voila!

"No, Mommy, look! The directions don't say to do that! They say to do it THIS WAY."

"Caroline, I'm only showing you an easier way. Directions don't always have to be followed exactly."


And that's when her head exploded.


..

Maybe We Should Call The CDC.

..

"Mommeeeeee!..................

(3 second pause)

..............Moooooom!"

"Yes? What is it?"

"This computer is moving very slowly. It keeps freezing up on me!"

"I know, honey. It does that to me and Daddy too. You'll just have to be patient with it."

"But WHY?"

"Because it's old and full of big files and there isn't a lot of memory left."

"Are you sure it didn't catch one of those germs?"

The Trip And The Time Since

Yes, clearly it's been more than awhile since I posted here. Not because there isn't much going on....indeed, there is ALWAYS something going on with Caroline...but because I have been going through this phase of not being able to concentrate on anything for more than two minutes. No focus whatsoever. Nada. It does make things rather difficult, as you can imagine. And why? Adult onset ADD maybe? That lingering crack problem perhaps? Or just too much coffee? Well, I cut out the mere three cups of coffee and tea I was drinking (per week) and here I am posting once again, so I guess it's safe to continue with the crack.

In the haze of the last few months though, while promising myself I'd write down all the noteworthy stuff Caroline said, I procrastinated until I forgot most of it. Let this be a lesson to me. My mom was right: Write It Down!

Here's a quick run-down of the events instead: In April, Calvin's brother, Gordon and our sister-in-law, Tanya, came to visit. It was decided that because their visit was so short and they might not come again before we left, we should fit as many things into 9 days as possible. And did we ever! In 9 days we saw Paris, Venice, Florence and we did the obligatory tour of Stuttgart as well as made a visit to the Fruehling (Spring) Fest. It was great fun that went by all too fast. We really hated to see Tanya and Gordon go back home. We kept offering to keep them. They only had to be willing to give up their gorgeous, custom-built and immaculately clean house, as well as their glamorous single-people life of wine parties, street fests, exciting, cultured friends and loud sex whenever they wanted, to stay here with us. It's a complete mystery that they didn't take us up on it.

Throughout the whole trip, Caroline was wonderful. It's not easy for an 8-year old to get up early, walk all day, change a million trains, planes and automobiles, stay up late every night and still be well-behaved for 9 days straight. But if any kid can do it, Caroline can, and did. It really comes in handy to have a kid who's genuinely interested in history and culture. She was actually excited to see the Louvre, the Acadaemia and the winery (where she squawked at chickens and played with the owner's dog....and held a funeral for a dead baby bird she found). In between sites and scenes, she happily plowed through the the last 4 Harry Potter books in their entirety. I am so thankful that we've got such a kid. Other than the occasional smart-ass attitude she's got (it's astounding to behold when she gets going) and a penchant for dry sarcasm (she's admirably adept at this) that leaves me speechless sometimes, she's very easy to get along with. It's fortunate, too; that trip would have been impossible otherwise. This, by the way, is one of the reasons we're not having any more kids. The next one would surely be a little hellion, the universe's way of reminding us we had an unfair advantage the first go-round. I know it.

Here are some photos of the trip:

Other than that, our lives have been taken up with Caroline's numerous activities. Piano, Running Club, Baseball, Guitar and Robotics Club. My school is still a big factor that takes up a lot of time too, of course. I think we overbooked the season. This summer we'll have to make up for it by staying home, sleeping 'till noon, and eating popsicles all day.

Thank You, Caroline....

....for kicking my lungs and ribs so hard I couldn't breathe sometimes. The first time you did, I was in the bath tub and it was the first time I'd ever felt you really kick like that. I knew you were going to be strong.

Thank you for each and every labor pain, even the ones that were so bad that I was made delirious and unable to scream or cry or move.

Thank you for every sleepless night spent walking you around, patting your tiny back, waiting for your tiny burp.

Thank you for every dirty diaper, and for every time you peed in the diaper I'd *just* put on.

Thank you for every bit of spit-up in my hair and on my shirt. You taught me that vanity is nothing next to the love you feel for your child.

Thank you for every fit you threw as a toddler, every bit of food I had to scrape off the floor and every crayon mark I had to remove from the walls.

Thank you for every midnight ER visit and every time you wet the bed when you were sick because you were too out-of-it to get up and go to the toilet.

Thank you for every morning Daddy and I didn't get to sleep in because you decided that it was a sunny day and time to get up.

Thank you for every smart-alec reply and every back-talk.

Thank you for all the Goldfish crackers I've had to vacuum off the car floor and all the mud I've had to clean up off the house floors.

Thank you for all the days I couldn't go out with my friends because you had a basketball game or a piano lesson or a Robotics meeting.

Up until today I have only thanked you when you behave, when you smile, when you're kind, when you're considerate, when you laugh, when you're funny, when you're "good". But when the realization comes upon me that one day you'll leave our house and go out on your own, it occurs to me that I'm grateful for all the rest too, and I am and always will be so, incredibly, unfailingly grateful for every moment I have with you. No matter what you're doing or saying, and no matter what action I have to take because of it. I love you when you're messy; I love you when you're cranky; I love you when you're ornery; I love you when you're selfish; I love you when you refuse to clean that room.
And when the day comes that you'll fly away, none of those things will be enough to keep me from wanting you back with all my heart.

Thank you for being my daughter all the way, and everything that comes with it.

Every Good Barbarian Has One

.

This morning in the bathroom as I'm combing her hair.

"Mommy? Do you know what I reeeeally want? What I've always wanted but have never got?"

"Um...yes. That pyramid toy you keep talking about. Everyone knows about that."

"No. I mean, yes. I want that. But there's something else that's even more important to me and I would do almost anything if you would get one for me for my birthday."

"Oh yeah? What is it?"

"A FLAME THROWER!"

What The Future Holds

A few weeks ago, we took a very short trip back to the states, where we visited my family for exactly a day and a half, and Calvin's family for 2 days.

Caroline was looking incredibly forward to seeing my parents, to whom she's very close, and got to spend a whole 4 hours with them before SHE STARTED THROWING UP.

Yes, after that miserably long trip, complete with frequent train changes, a cramped air plane, screaming brats running up and down the aisles and kicking flight-attendants, bad food, and a long drive to NC, and Caroline behaving impeccably throughout the whole thing, that poor kid was gifted by the universe with a miserable stomach flu. She had a high fever and was able only to lay on the sofa and dream of the Disney store she otherwise was promised a trip to.

*sigh*



Well, mom and I did make a trip to the Disney store for Caroline and brought her back an armload of gifts from both there and A REAL BOOKSTORE, another place Caroline had hoped to visit. Still, it wasn't the same. I wish we could have stayed longer. Sadly though, the next stop was to Calvin's hometown where we spent the next two days visiting his mother in the nursing home where she is recovering from a leg break.

So, I'm sorry, Caroline. That trip was really no fun for you at all. Next time, huh?

Before she got sick though, we had dinner with my parents. During which, I learned about my daughters future hopes and career aspirations.

My Dad: So Caroline, have you decided what you want to be when you grow up?

Caroline: Yes! In fact, I have a list!

MD: A list! What's on it?

C: A lot of things!

MD: Like what? What's number 5?

C: An archaeologist.

MD: Number four?

C: A veterinarian.

MD: Number 3?

C: An astronaut.

MD: Two?

C: A paleontologist.

MD: And number one?

C: A BARBARIAN!







..

Grace and Brains

Well! The big day came! The Spelling Bee arrived.



My darling Caroline. I could not be more proud of you. You added a "K" to the end of "Frolic" and so did not make it to the final rounds........but you took the chance and you made it this far.



You got up there, you stood tall, and you spoke clearly. It didn't matter that you were the tiniest one on the stage and that your little green shoes dangled a foot above the floor when you sat in your seat. It didn't matter that you have been nervous to the point of nausea since yesterday. You did it.



Your class was proud of you, as evidenced by the posters they made, and the gifts some of them brought for you, and the love note one boy left in your mail box that read: "Good luck at the spelling bee. I love you.", [Whoa, are they starting them early! ;o)] and they supported you with cheers and pats on the back. You took this all with grace and humility.



And when you were eliminated and had to sit down, you behaved beautifully. You didn't mope or cry. You sat calmly, you continued to cheer for those still up, and you took your medal at the end with a smile on your face. You're a class act, Caroline. I wanted to hold you up and remind everyone that you are MY DAUGHTER.



Congratulations on making it this far, and congratulations on learning the lesson that many adults still don't know: how to bow out gracefully and be happy for the winner. You rock.



Your dad and I love you.

*pictures to follow when the desktop is back in service after the move*

Spelling Bees, Breakfast Orders and Elton John

Well, once again it's been awhile since I sat down to do this. But that doesn't mean that nothing's been happening. On the contrary, every day with Caroline is interesting, and this morning was no exception.


At 4:30am I woke up because the hall light outside our bedroom came on, causing me to dream that I was being interrogated in a dark room by the Inquisition, Stuttgart Chapter.


When I came to and my eyes focused, there was Caroline standing in the door way staring at us. I asked her what she was doing up so early and she replied (in a chirpy way entirely unsuited to the time) that she'd been up since three, was fully dressed, and would like breakfast now if we didn't mind.

Mind? Nah.....

I asked her to please go back to her room and try to lay down for awhile, because ONLY CATS AND OLD PEOPLE ARE UP THIS EARLY. Being the giving person she is, she trotted cheerily back to her room, read her books and waited until we woke up again at 6.

When I got up, I saw that before I'd ever woke and noticed her standing in our doorway earlier, she'd written us a note containing her "breakfast order" and left it on our dresser.

It read: I would like a chocolate, peanut butter, vanilla, banana shake for breakfast, please.


Who IS this kid that she's playing today? Normally getting her up before 11 am is as easy as trying to make a republican say NUCLEAR properly. And she made a breakfast order? On paper? And nowhere on the order did I see the foods Gummi Hamburgers or Kinder Eggs? I am growing increasingly suspicious of that brownie I ate last night.


Bizarre early risings aside, it's been a pretty tame 30-ish days since my last posting.


Caroline has learned to play Sudoku, and is reguarly whooping the ass of the whatever board her DS pulls up. I'm a little hooked on it too, which is causing me to compete with my child to see whose turn it is to use the video game.


Christmas and New Year were fun. Christmas was spent at a resort down south in Allgau. For five days we let others do our cooking and cleaning for us as we lounged around, drank wine, swam, sat in the sauna and watched German Christmas concerts. We came back late Christmas afternoon, opened presents and sat around snuggling and relaxing for the remaining 4 days until Calvin had to return to work. It stunk when he did, as we hadn't had him to ourselves for that long a stretch in I-can't-remember-how-long. It was niiiiiiice to have him home. Wish we had a break like that far more often.

For New Year we had some guests over; our neighbors Alex and Tom & kids Mila and Luca, as well as some new friends my mom distance-introduced us to, Bonni, Jim & their daughters Ashley and Haley. They all joined us for a redneck buffet (black-eyed peas, collards, ham, salad and pizza) on New Year's Eve, and stayed the night with us watching fireworks and holding sparklers. It was a great way to get to know and spend time with them. And as Bonni & Jim & Co. were automobile-less (as of yet) they were pretty much a captive audience, leaving us free to overwhelm them with chatter and bombard them with shamelessly nosy questions. Mwa-hahahaha..! They did take it well though, which means they're allowed to come over again.

The kids all got along well, and they all found Calvin to be a huge instrument conducive to rambunctious fun. He makes for a nice set of monkey bars (I knew this, but most people don't) and he's very fast and hard to catch when one is chasing him (I knew this too).......unless he's had a few glasses of champagne, at which point he just stops running away and becomes a willing set of monkey bars again. Calvin, The Kid Magnet.

Caroline and Mila playing make-believe with their Playmobil sets.



For academic news: For the last few months, we knew that Caroline's school would be holding a spelling bee. And Calvin and I both have tried and tried to talk her into it. Her teacher has too. To no avail. She just won't, she says. She's too embarrassed to stand up in front of people and spell words. We were disappointed, naturally, because we know her talents lay in writing, reading and spelling more than any other subjects. But we also know you can't push a kid who's unwilling, or they grow up and turn out to be that relative we all have that we don't talk about. The one who thinks he's Ghengis Kahn and talks to light sockets.

Mr. Zappey, though....Mr. Zappey decided to try one more time to give her a little nudge toward it. He did this on the day of the event, just before the class headed to the auditorium. And what do you think? Not only did she agree finally to do it, but she came away in the top four. One of the only four students to spell all three of her words in the preliminaries correctly. AND the only girl of those four winners. Her words were, as she related to us, "Complex", "Elephant" and "Screen". Of course, anyone who knows Caroline well knows this could have been a disaster, as she could have spelled Elephant one of five ways: Violet, George, Jim, Rose, or Paul. But she chose the universal way....E-L-E-P-H-A-N-T. And now the finals will be on the 30th of the month. Stayed tuned for the results. Whatever happens, it should be said that I'm just incredibly proud that she got up there. My kid rocks. Have I said that before? She just rocks.

The herd that goes everywhere with us.




Speaking of Mr. Zappey, Caroline came home the other day and breathlessly told me "Mom, I've got some very sad news."


"What news?" I asked, prepared for some seriously bad news.


"Mr. Zappey is getting married! To Mrs. Shives, the teacher next door!"


"And why is this bad news? They're both really nice--aren't you happy they've found eachother?"


"No! I don't want to have to start calling Mr. Zappey MR. SHIVES!"


Later that night she sat down and began to write a memoir "Mr. Zappey Is Getting Married and Other Catastrophes".






Today is Friday, thankfully. 'Cause that weekend just can't come soon enough.


Tonight I'm taking Caroline to see Swan Lake, performed by the Russian Ballet who are in town for a short time. Our friend Kristina was kind enough to arrange these tickets and gift them to us. Thank you Kristina! I'm eager to take Caroline to this. My mom took me to the ballet of Sleeping Beauty when I was 4 and I remember being so fascinated that I thought of very little else but being a ballerina for a few years. In the end, I picked a much cooler career. One that would allow me to occasionally eat.



Incidentally, Caroline is going through an Elton John phase. Her particular favorite is Crocodile Rock. Watching her rock out to this in the back of the car is worth every time I have to hear that supremely annoying song. She's just too charming.


Lastly, before I end this, I'd like to send a Happy Birthday out to my little brother, Jonathan, who is and always has been too big for his britches, but who makes me laugh like no one else and was the only baby I ever knew that I loved as much as I love my own daughter. I love you, Jon-son and I am so grateful for every year with you. XO

Oh Yeah, I'd Heard That Too.

Caroline has been campaigning tirelessly for a pet lately. Of course, with us being so close to leaving, a pet is really out of the question. She knows, as we have told her, we absolutely won't be getting a dog, cat, bird, hamster or fish not knowing where we'll be next and not knowing when exactly we might leave Germany. But she is taking it well and with her characteristic humor. Along that vein of sarcastic humor, I suggested she might like the baby spider currently residing in the corner of the ceiling in our bathroom (We've named him Oliver). No she says, he's too hard to find.

A snail then? I suggested.

"No, Mom. Snails are notoriously slow to respond when you call them."



...

She'd Rather Make Wine Than EAT them.

Caroline doesn't like Thanksgiving food. Everything I feed her for Thanksgiving is icky. Turkey? Ew! Stuffing? Triple Ew! Home made apple pie? We might as well feed her liver and spinach.

But she told me today that she does like the idea of stomping the cranberries with her feet.


...

From Grandma Judi

..

Here is a note written to Caroline by my mother, "Grandma Judi".

Happy Birthday!!!!...and Halloween stories

My most dearest Caroline!!!Happy Birthday!!! Grandpa and I can hardly believe that you are now 8 years old!! It seems like yesterday that we were waiting at the hospital for you to be born. I was in the delivery room with your Mom and Grandpa was in the waiting room talking to your Dad who was in Australia.

Everyone was so happy when you arrived!! And I can tell you that you were the most beautiful baby in the hospital!!! I stayed with you from the moment you were born till they 'made' me leave you. And, without thinking, I gave you your first kiss on the forehead!! You were the sweetest baby...and you have grown into the smartest, sweetest, kindest, little lady that I know.

We are so proud to be your Grandpa and Grandma!!!


We hope you have a nice Halloween birthday party and trick or treating with your friend. I am glad that the Tinker Belle costume we sent you fit perfectly. I did not know that the wings lit up!! I would love to have a photo of you in [it].

Grandpa and I remember when your Mom, Brent and Jonathan were little and we all got dressed up and went trick or treating. You Mom was usually a gypsy, witch or 'punk rocker'. Brent was a skeleton or 'monster'. Jonathan was a pirate or clown. Of course, there were years that they were other things, but that is what we most remember. It was so much fun watching them dress up and go to parties and for candy!


When your Mom was really little, we would walk her and Brent around the neighborhood, holding their little hands. When we moved to different bases (England, Germany and Panama), the kids would go from house to house...still in 'our' neighborhood. The base security police were often standing around on the streets making sure that traffic was going slow and that kids were safe. Almost always, the squadron would have a party and everyone, including adults, would dress up and play games. That was a very fun time for everyone!!


When I was little, I remember Halloween was almost as exciting as Christmas. When I was about your age, my favorite costume was Sleeping Beauty. It came in a box. There was a long blue cloth dress that tied in the back at the neck. It had silver glitter all over the front. And it came with a plastic mask that had a black elastic band around the head to hold it on. I remember trying it on and thinking that I was so beautiful in my costume.


On Halloween night, we kids were very excited for my Dad to come home, we'd eat dinner and then get dressed to go out. Back then, even us 'little' kids would go all over the neighborhood by ourselves and no one thought a thing about it. We lived in the desert in Arizona. We were more concerned about running into a cactus or a snake than we were of 'bad' people.


Anyway, this one year that I remember well, my Dad came home and we sat down to eat dinner. We did not know that my Mom made BEANS that night!! We hated beans!! They were 'brown' beans (pinto?) and I hated them. So did my brother, Kevin and sister, Susan. But, the rule was we had to eat before we could go Trick or Treating. Somehow, Kevin and Susan ate theirs before I did. I just could hardly get them in my mouth! Kevin and Susan got to get dressed in their costumes. I was still sitting at the dinner table. I remember thinking that my Mom was being so mean to me to make me eat BEANS before Trick or Treating!! In looking back on it, I hardly had any beans at all on my plate...but at the time, it seemed like I had a mountain of them to eat. Then my Mom said that I could put some mustard on them. I had never heard of that before. But, anything was better than the taste of beans!! So, I tried a little mustard and it was better! The more I saw Kevin and Susan running around in their costumes, the better the mustard was with the beans! I ended up putting more and more mustard on my beans till all I could taste was mustard. Then it was gross!! By then, it was getting dark and my friend, Toni was going to be coming to get me. Finally, I made myself eat those nasty, mustardy, brown beans...even though I KNEW I was going to vomit!! But, I didn't.


When Toni came to my house, we got Kevin's red wagon and my Mom gave us pillow cases to hold our candy. The four of us went all around the neighborhood. Susan and Kevin sometimes rode in the wagon and Toni and I would pull. Sometimes, Kevin and Susan would walk and we would put the candy-filled pillow cases in the wagon. We would get LOTS of candy!...and sometimes, we would get a nickel or some pennies!! That was exciting!! Sometimes, old folks would invite us into their homes for hot apple cider and home-baked decorated sugar cookies. You sure can't do that anymore!!!


When we got home, my Dad would go thru all the candy we brought home and make sure that it all looked ok. If he found a piece that he thought we wouldn't like or that looked like it was 'bad', he would eat it for us so we wouldn't get sick from it!!


We loved Halloween when we were little. It was a fun time to be whoever we wanted to be for that one night a year. Our costumes could make us beautiful, scary or funny. And, we would have candy to last us a very long time!!


Caroline, I hope you have your own wonderful memories of Halloween this year. Your Halloween will be much different from mine or your Mom's. But, be sure you keep your own memories cause your's will be different from your own children's...and they will want to hear your stories of how it was in the 'old days'!!


Again, a most happy birthday! We love you so much!

Caroline (in her new Chinese pyjamas) and Calvin, carving the pumpkins together.

Grandma

Happy Birthday, Beautiful Soul!

It's your 8th birthday today, Caroline, and we are celebrating!

I know I speak for more than myself when I say how grateful I am that you were born, that you are here with us today and that I get to be a part of your precious life. When you were born...when they handed your slimy kicking little body to me and you screamed in my face with the strength of a fog horn, I was yours. Right then, you simply ripped my heart out of my chest and made it your plaything, and I didn't care. I loved you that much, even though I'd only known you mere moments.

It hasn't changed today. I'm still yours, and today I find myself reminiscing about the years in between that first day and today. I marvel at how you've grown physically, of course, but the main wonder is how your soul has got so big and how it fits in such a tiny little package. You have one of the best hearts I've ever had the privilege of being near. Your compassion for those around you is unbounded. You have genuine concern for people. One prime example is that homeless guy we saw outside the walls of the Vatican. He had a huge tumor growing on the top of his head and he was crippled and sitting on the sidewalk, not even able to actively beg, but just staring. You had a bag of snacks you were about to eat yourself, but you insisted on giving him both those and the change you had in your pocket. And you didn't just let it go at that---you still ask and talk about him even today, over a year later. "Mommy, do you think that man at the Vatican is ok now? Do you think someone gave him a place to live?" Most people would have given him nothing and pretended not to see him, and those who did condescend to help would have forgotten him right away afterwards. Not you. And he's not the only one, either---just an example.

Caring for our world is also forefront in your mind---you have started protests at school about the trees being cut down behind your playground, and you have been very enthusiastic about recycling here at home. You are very aware of what is going on around you and you are concerned. This, to me, speaks volumes about the kind of person you are. Aren't 8 year olds supposed to be concerned with video games, Hannah Montana and Tamagatchi? Perhaps so, but then you don't care much for the restraints of "supposed to". Your curiosity is just on fire. You are never satisfied with "Because." or "That's the way it's always been done." You want logic and reasons. You want solutions and results. You question everything, and that is something I will never discourage, even if it means being questioned myself. Respect for authority is necessary sometimes, but some of us were raised with an unhealthy amount of it and we never thought to question the way things were. I vow to never do that to you, because I'm proud of your inner fire. It's what makes you YOU and I never want to see it die.


And, lest you begin to think you're perfect, let's keep this truthful and remind you that along with a free spirit and active mind comes a sharp wit--translated into an attitude problem. You are very smart, and yes, you are very quick, but as of yet you haven't learned when to curb your tongue and when not to. That attitude that usually comes with teenage-hood instead came to you at four. You are excellent at sarcasm and you don't miss or forget a detail. There is no getting by you or attempting to put you off--you know exactly what's going on and you feel absolutely free to say when you don't like it. This all can be a very good thing if channeled properly, but channeling is not going to be easy and I know my work is cut out for me. I'll try to teach you when to soften your response a bit and when it's ok to let it be as sharp as you like, but learning and teaching such a subtle skill is never easy. Indeed, more adults than not have never mastered that, methinks. Perhaps I'll leave that lesson to your dad, the master. Your dad? He's one of those people who can be right up front about telling a person they're wrong, but make them happy to hear it AND make them wholeheartedly agree with him at the same time. The man never ceases to amaze me with his lion-taming skills. Yep, I think I'll leave it up to him to polish you. ;o)


In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy you for your good-heart, your delicious imagination, your active brains and your biting humor. You are an amazing person, and I am so glad you were born. Happy Birthday, my beautiful daughter. I love you.

Kontanz and Klaus

So yesterday we went to Lake Constance, several hours south of here. You know, just to putter around, see what was there and enjoy the nice weather that wasn't.





Despite the gloom though, we had a great time. I was pleased to see some appreciation for some of the most underappreciated and most villainized women that ever lived: the courtesans. In this town, they not only appreciate the important past that the courtesans share with the city, but they revered them by erecting this large statue....

...which looks out over the lake and celebrates the courtesan. It spells out pretty clearly exactly the kind of power she held, as not only the epitomy of physical pleasure, but also as a respected advisor to the influential. Courtesans were known to be the most highly educated women in the world and at a time when "ladies" weren't allowed to go to school or learn to read anything beyond what they must for the running of the household. This was a great honor (albeit an honor long overdue) and most did not take it for granted.

In this statue, the courtesan holds a pope in her hands as well as a king. I guess there's no mistaking the message.

Other various views of Kostanz (Constance):

All in all it was a great trip. Too short, but at least next time we'll know to make more room for exploration. Apparently they have a great fishmarket. That'll be on the list for sure.

In other news, our litle sprout was really on the ball this week, and last night, unsolicited, she handed us her Christmas list (!!) and asked us to mail it to Santa. Here it is, copied exactly:

Dear Santa Claus,

I do want alot this year. Here is what I wish for this year.

1. a DS (Or Nintendo DS) with games.

2. A Happy Family.

3. stuffed animal My Little Pony that walks and talks.

4. A real Puppy

5. A baby doll stroller and crib

6. Robots and a Robot tech dragonfly.

7. Puppy Pals.

And that's all!!!

P.S. You do not have to send all of this. Just the happy family.

And it's followed by her own rendering of an elf in a stripey hat.

Well, I got news for ya! That happy family part? NO WAY. I'm happy to say we'll continue to lock you in the basement and feed you bugs and brackish water. With an occasional orange so you don't get scurvy, because I'm caring like that.

I don't know what Puppy Pals are. Guess I've got my homework cut out for me, huh?

...

Pumpkins, Alarm Clocks, and Smurf Explosion

Our Pumpkinhead does not like mornings. At all.
Nor does she make any effort to hide the fact. Mornings are always a struggle here, as both she and Calvin find waking up akin to swallowing raw liver.

A few mornings ago:

"Carolinebabygirl, good morning! It's time to get up and get moving!"

... from under the covers, without even a pause...

"I'd rather grow hair all over my body."

Sometimes though, she's just too incoherent to say anything of sense. One morning when I went to wake her up, she sort of sat up, blinked a few times, looked at me with squinty eyes and said:

"It's just as I suspected!"

"What? What's just as you suspected?"

"It's as I suspected" she said again, "You DO have real feathers!"

..at which point she fell unceremoniously back onto her pillow and began snoring.

Once she's up though, she's great, whereas I feel I need a nap after only being up for 3 hours.

Caroline observing all the sights at the anual Ludwigsburg Pumpkin Fest.

This is what happens when I say "Yes" to a Smurfberry Gelato after school.

...

Visits, Concerts, Broken Cars and Unhappy Eye Balls

Wow. Nearly a month since I've posted. Absurd when clearly there has been much worth posting. Since I have a month's worth, should I start with the good news or the news about how the world wrapped itself around my skull and started drilling mercilessly?

OK, yeah, the good news. I'm all about eating the maraschino first.

In late August, I reconnected with some old friends from long past assignments. Important friends that I regretted ever losing touch with. Particularly Ragan and Fiona. I met Fiona in Australia when we lived there and when she was an Australian Air Force Officer. She was also my workout partner and never balked at a challenge. She and her husband are now here for 3 years, and I could not be happier that they're around. I hope we can make up for the lost years. There's Ragan too, whose emails I have enjoyed immensely, and who's life story I'm following with zeal. We have even more in common now than we did in Junior high, and I have to tell you, I really needed this soul-connection. Hi Ragan! I'm so glad you're back and I'm with you every step of the way on your new journey. I believe in you!

I enjoyed spending Caroline's last days of summer with her, feeding ducks, sleeping in, and laughing our tails off. And I enjoyed seeing her go from dread to excitement about her first days of school again.



Then our good friend, Francesca, previously posted about, arrived from Australia via UK to spend three weeks with us. We had a marvelous time. We needed that time to laugh and relax, and I so enjoyed showing her around our world here. The markets, the Weindorf, the dairy farm, etc. We spent some hours at the 24 hour Marathon, which is to raise money for the children's programs on the base. There were trips to Rothenburg and Neuschwanstein.



Then there was the Madonna concert that we, along with Fiona and Gosia went to, and was that ever a good time! A girl's weekend right in the middle of the week, complete with Irish Pub, trains, hotel, beer, awesome conversation, laughs and convenient places right under the stage where we all gawped at Madonna's up-close-and-personal muscles for 2.5 hours. Seriously, does that woman ever age?! Is she really 50 with two kids?

Top: Gosia and Francesca, Bottom: Fiona and Gosia. Aren't my friends beautiful?!?

There was a trip to Europa Park:

And of course, some days were just enjoyed sitting at home with popcorn and a movie and good conversation, which is just as much fun and certainly good for the soul.

Enjoying a Weizen at Neuschwanstein.

We all got very used to having Francesca around. We got used to seeing her putter around every morning with her cup of tea. We got used to seeing her cheery, stripey socks, to getting some good laughs out of her own special brand of humor, and to hearing her thoughts on various happenings, ideas and events. She's family, really, so the fact that she's gone has left a hole in our home. As she left I remember her thanking me for letting her come and stay. And I don't think I responded to that, in the middle of heavy thoughts as I was, but all I remember thinking was "Thank ME?". Because really, Franta, we thank YOU. Thank you for choosing our home as the place you wanted to stay and our family as the family you chose to be part of. Thank you for hanging around us even when the times got tough (see rest of the story below). It was a great experience for all of us, but especially for me. I miss you already.

Now, that covers the cherries and frosting. How about the other stuff?

On the 13th of September, we (me, Calvin, Caroline and Francesca) decided we'd take a weekend to stay at the Edelweiss Lodge in Garmisch. Just a relaxing weekend with good food, workouts, pool, Cosmopolitans, etc. And all started well...we did get there. And we had a goooood dinner. After that though, we all went to the gym for a quick workout before heading to the pool. Caroline had her new bathing suit on and was so excited she could barely hold still. So while we worked out, she played with the exer-stretch bands to bide a few minutes. You know the ones you use to mildly work your muscles by stretching them? One was tied to a steel bar by the mirror and she was pulling it, pretending to work her little toothpick biceps. None of us thought anything of it, of course; they're rubber bands. Stretchy rubber bands....pretty much the most harmless thing in the gym and perfect to keep a 7 year old occupied for a few minutes? Right?

Except the tied end of the band came loose and snapped back straight into her eye. Didn't hit a bit of skin around her eye, either, just straight eye ball. I had turned around for just a second as she was happily playing and making faux gruntings, and when I heard the pop I turned back around to see her doubled over on the floor. She was not making a sound; she was not able to, stunned as she was, which was my first clue that something really was wrong. My heart dropped into my feet and I rushed to turn her over and see. When she opened her eye, I had to stifle a yelp. Her eye looked like a glass half-full of blood. Blood was actually pooling up between her cornea and her iris.



She was still stunned beyond making a sound, so I rushed her over to the front desk and asked them to call security. From security, we were given the directions to the nearest hospital that would see Americans (being out of Stuttgart at this time was not a good thing). To make a long story short, there was no sleep that night. We rushed from the hotel to the ER, from the ER to an emergency opthomologist on the other side of town. That opthomologist told us Caroline needed surgery right away, that she couldn't wait until morning, and that we needed to go either to Munich or Stuttgart asap. So we had to drive back through the night to reach Tuebingen, the university hospital near Stuttgart. At around 6am we arrived there, only to be told by a very bleary-eyed doctor,who'd come in just for this on a Sunday morning, that Caroline's eye would absorb the blood itself most likely and that we should just go home and see our own base clinic on Monday morning for a check up. We got home on Sunday morning at 7:30 at which point we all promptly fell asleep and slept all the day through.

Monday morning first thing, I took Caroline to the clinic where the doctor seemed very concerned with the blood in her eye (though it did look much better by this time) and he set up an appointment with another opthomologist for that hour. We drove over there to have the opthomologist tell us what the doc in Tuebingen said, "It will probably absorb itself. Hang in there and come back in a few days so I can look at it."

Now, I have to tell you, I was not comfortable with these breezy diagnoses, but it did appear to be getting better, and I was being assured at home that it was all ok and that it would absorb itself, no worries. So I went along. I set up an appointment for two days later, and we went back home.

But that night, as Caroline was getting ready for bed, I heard her scream from the bathroom. As I was getting up off the sofa to go to her, she came rushing in, grabbed my wrist and pulled me with unbelievable, panicked strength toward the bathroom where she looked up at the light and showed me what she'd been screaming about. The eye, which had heretofore been partially filled with blood, was now fully filled. Instead of going away and absorbing itself, it had re-hemorrhaged and now resembled a black marble in her head and she was fully blind on that side. It was....well...truly frightening. This time I was not taking "No, calm down." for an answer. I grabbed her and rushed her to the hospital in Sindelfingen, carrying her the whole way as she was hysterical and muttering loudly about being "blind forever". There they told us that they didn't have any opthomologist on staff and that we should go downtown to a hospital there that did.

Thirty minutes later we arrived at the Katherinenhospital in central Stuttgart, where the doc looks, tested her with a few numbers and letters and admitted her right away. Luckily, they let me stay with her. Wise of them, since I would have won in the fight I was prepared to have. In fact, they were welcoming. Calvin went back home that night and I stayed in a cramped hospital bed with Caroline, cuddling her and trying to reassure her all night. The next day, we saw the Chief Opt. and he suggested that we opt for surgery since, he said, waiting might only mean a more difficult surgery later. Caroline agreed when it was explained to her that she would not feel a thing because she'd be asleep, and so Calvin and I nodded and agreed too.

The lead up to the surgery was more stressful for me than it was for her, I think. She was in good spirits and fascinated at the thought of the "magic medicine" making her sleep. Naturally, I was feeling all these attacks of mother-guilt: why did I let her play with that rubber band? Why didn't I just skip my workout and take her straight to the pool? Why did I listen to those who told me "Don't worry, it's nothing." when I knew to listen to my gut instead? Would she ever show me rainbows again? Would she ever notice all the tiny but beautiful things she notices every day, like caterpillars, ants, leaves, pretty rocks? Or would she be half blind for the rest of her life?

All these thoughts were running through my head, and they might seem melodramatic to anyone who isn't facing it with their kid, but honestly, they were tearing me up. The thought of general anesthaesia was too, as one of my favorite authors died from it. Caroline, on the other hand, was proudly beaming to me that she was going to be the first person to do the backward count and make it to 1.

In her little gown just before they knocked her out. Doesn't she look way too tiny for that bed?

She didn't even make it to ten. They never told her to count. They just injected the juice and said "This might burn a little". I was holding her hand when she started crying and saying "It burns!". She went to sleep just then without warning and I hadn't even had a chance to say anything else. I worried for the next hour and a half that she'd gone to sleep in pain and hadn't heard me trying to comfort her. Yes, melodramatic to you, but so painful to me.

Fortunately, the surgery went well. She slept for hours afterward as the anesthaesia wore off, but Calvin and I were there right by her side the whole time. When she woke up she was well and in no pain.



For the next few days I stayed with her (we had our own room by this time and two beds). We played Blackjack and War and I read to her from her book, "Sea of Monsters", which she loves. We watched movies on our portable DVD player and we drew pictures and chatted and cuddled a lot. Daddy got a bit of cuddle-time too, which I think they both needed.



Her class all made and sent her Get Well cards, which she loved. She lit up as she was reading them to us, and laughing at the cute and funny things her classmates said. What a creative and smart bunch of kids! Those cards are brilliant and will go into Caroline's scrap-box for keeping.

The card display Caroline made out of her classmates' cards:





On Friday night, her teacher, Herr Zappey, and our friends, Shelley, Riley, Ben and Brooke Johnson all came for a visit.

Left to right: Caroline, Riley, Shelley, Brooke, Herr Zappey, Ben.




There is no place that family can't light up! Caroline loved having them in her room and she loved the balloons and MickeyMouse they brought, but mostly she loved the good wishes and laughter that came with them. She and Riley and Brooke built a dummy out of Herr Zappey's motorcycle jacket and helmet. Herr Zappey, ever-patient man that he is, stood by and let them enjoy themselves with his gear.




She was released on the weekend with the condition that she not do P.E. or physically exert herself for a few weeks at least. There will also be regular weekly checkups with the doc and surgeon back at the hospital so they can monitor how her eye is coping. Her pupil is still almost fully dialated and her whites are still pink, but we're hoping for the best and that it will all go back to normal eventually. Her sight has mostly returned. In the meantime, Caroline is back in school and handing out eye-ball candies as a joke. Lemons=Lemonade, eh?

To add to the stress of EyeBall Week, our car wouldn't start yesterday as I left the post office. So today my chore, as well as catching up on a week's worth of school that I missed, is to find a mechanic who will work with 10 year-old Infinitis. You would be surprised to know that not many here will. Huh.

BUT, all things considered, with all that's happened, we really got off light. Things could have been far worse. What if she'd been wearing her glasses when that band had snapped? Shattered glass in her eye? Thanks to the Powers That Be that she wasn't. It's this I'm going to focus on to remind myself that we really were fortunate, and this I'm going to focus on as I cuddle Caroline a little tighter and a little more often every day.


Flowers from Grandma and Grandpa Myrick: