PJ's First Haircut

PJ enjoyed his first haircut from Hairdresser Mommy this morning. He was an awesome guy about it and it was over in less than 5 minutes. Of course, it helps that it was a simple buzz job.

PJ about two weeks ago with his fly-away hair.

PJ after with his adorable ears and big eyes.

My little ham acting adorable (as usual).

xo

Learning and Maybe Bettering

I read once in a book about mothering that each baby, each child, each adoption is a gift to help us, the mothers, learn about and better ourselves. I would add that fathers also learn about and better themselves, but I agree that moms, especially first time moms, are in for a real loop.

Of course I didn’t get that with my first baby, it took the shock of becoming a mother with our additional struggles of breastfeeding and postpartum depression. In those first few months with PJ I crash-and-burn-learned a lot. For example, I learned that when I listen to myself even (especially?) when it comes to my child, things go a lot more peacefully for us all. I also learned to carefully glean ideas from (which is another nice way of saying "shut out/ignore") "experts" and people who tell me I "must" (muss) and "should" (soll) do X, Y, or Z.

Now, with my second baby, I’m once again learning about and hopefully also bettering myself. I am pretty good at acknowledging and honoring my emotional boundaries but I still struggle…hell, this is my blog, so let’s be honest…I suck at acknowledging and honoring my physical boundaries. Combine that with my ambition and the fact that I actually like what I do for money at my job and, well, I tend to work too much, too long, and with too much effort.

It’s time for a confession, dear readers. I have felt like shit throughout the majority of this pregnancy. During the first trimester I missed nine weeks (!!!) of work because I was a vomit machine with never-ending nausea. I lost loads of weight. The single week that I drug myself through work I passed out in the women’s room while washing my hands and was caught by an unsuspecting but kind colleague I had never seen before. Medicine didn’t help, acupuncture helped a little, but in the end only time helped. It sucked.

As the second trimester rolled in, the vomiting stopped and the nausea broke into waves that slowly, slowly receded. I had three or four weeks during which I didn’t feel good but I also didn’t feel like shit. I was finally released to work part-time (and I worked more than that) and I went back on my low fructose diet. Then two weeks ago I felt like a nasty cold or the flu was coming on: body aches, low blood pressure, headaches that turned into migraines. I started to get dizzy; I hit the ground for the second, and then the third, time. Then the aches turned into bizarre flashes of pain first in my back and left leg and now in different parts of my body.  Neither the nasty cold nor the flu arrived, I just kept feeling like shit.

The good news is that our jelly bean continues to be healthy, active, and growing. My doctors are being proactive and are taking my symptoms seriously. We’ll get there and a healthy baby is worth it (I repeat to myself ad nauseum).

But this process of learning about and bettering myself is hard. You see, after two weeks of feeling this way (including a great, relaxing vacation in the north of Germany that didn’t help much) I went back to the doctor. After a variety of blood tests, we now know that I definitely have some sort of infection but we still don't know what kind of or where. Fun. Fun. Fun. And once again, for good reason, I’m not permitted to work.

Again.

I’m off for another two weeks while doctors try to help resolve if this is all pregnancy related or if something else is going on. (In case you’re wondering, I’m voting for that first option, permitting the baby remains healthy.) And, if we are setting reasonable expectations, I won’t be back at work full-time before my maternity leave kicks in and I may very well not be back at all.

Since I live in Germany, a country with a universal social net, my family is okay. I will continue to get paid my full salary. I cannot get fired or dismissed from my job. My benefits, including health care, remain in place. Logically this break from work makes total sense: I feel like shit and I’m in a country that makes it possible for me to focus on what’s most important, namely my unborn baby and my health.

The thing is that while I strongly believe in this system that I am paying into, I’m having one hell of a time having the system pay me out. And while I logically know that the company I work for doesn’t live or die based on my work, I struggle with myself that I’m not there, pulling at least part of my weight. Especially when I share with colleagues that I'm out again and I can hear their disappointment and sometimes their frustration underneath their kind words of support. Both make me question myself: "Am I really that sick?" and "Couldn't I just somehow slog myself through?"

I know the answers are "yes" and "not really, dumbass, you keep passing out" but I'm still struggling. My body and the baby I'm carrying within my body need me to respect the physical boundaries that I'm slamming against...but doing so feels uncomfortable and, well, I feel guilty.

And that’s where this essay ends. In the middle of our little jelly bean helping me learn about myself. The optimistic part of me hopes I’m also getting better but, for that, only time with tell.

 

xo

The Halfway Mark

My pregnancy with our little jelly bean is half-way through. Today I’ve hit 20 weeks (the 21^st week for you Germans out there).  Half-way through. Wow.

 

This pregnancy has been different from my pregnancy with PJ. The first trimester was ugly: I missed nine weeks of work (!!) due to recurring strep throat, followed by too much weight loss, irregular blood pressure, some not-too-serious heart issues (mine), significant vomiting, and almost constant nausea.

Thankfully my mom was here for part of the time and the Mr. is patient. Because I am not an easy sick person; I am, however, an excellent complainer about being sick. Right, mom?

The second trimester has been going much better – because really, Einstein hit the nail on the head, everything is relative – but it still isn’t what I would call “easy”.  Last time I flew to Ireland, Russia, and the US during the second trimester. This time I’m not permitted to fly and my doctor encouraged me to stay relatively close (think: Germany, northern Italy, eastern France and the like). Thankfully the vomiting has stopped but I’m still dealing with irregular and short waves of nausea, flat out exhaustion, unpleasant stomach issues, continued blood pressure stuff, and now daily shooting pain in my back and left leg.

 

Pregnancy, how glamorous.

We’ve managed some of the symptoms by permitting me to be lazy (with a limited bad conscious). That means while I'm laid up on the couch, PJ is goofing around and often a movie is running. He can call out some of the lines in Monsters Inc; has shown a real liking to Ratatouille; and can sing and dance along to a German early morning cartoon called Kika. He even has a movie-watching chair. I'm not sure that is something to be proud of but we're getting on together.

 

Those problems also mean that a number of those garden projects that need to get done this spring have been one-man jobs. Let  it be known that the Mr. does NOT enjoy garden projects and suffers from some pretty nasty allergies. So it is impressive that he is doing the garden work on his own - sneezing the entire time - while I take pictures and try to keep my “suggestions” of how he could (read: should) be doing the work to myself. Very impressive.

One of the garden projects that the Mr. has done alone, before...

 

 

...and after.

And lastly, all these negative symptoms led to a larger tweak in our diet for the last two weeks. I have a tough time absorbing fructose, like that found in High Fructose Corn Syrup (HFCS), household sugar, and fruit. Most of the time I can remain in my 'okay' range by balancing the amount fructose in my diet through avoiding HFCS almost completely and thoughtful choosing my other foods. Other time, like during periods of stress (like this pregnancy), I can't and I need to be strict and go almost fructose-free to flush out my system, meaning: nothing packaged (not hard for us), nothing homemade with household sugar (a little harder but I can replace the sugar with glucose), no fresh or dried fruit, honey, or juice, (hard), and no garlic or onions (the hardest part).

Since we eat as a family, that means that the Mr. has also been going without his garlic and onions at dinner. Bless him.

But what it also means is unlimited fresh sushi!! Yeah!!

Lots of vegetarian, pregnant-lady-friendly options.

 

See, it isn’t all bad.

 

I do, also, have that lovely glowing skin and my hair shines like I’ve gotten prepped for a Pantene commercial.  And I can feel the baby moving and stretching in there. And the Mr. can occassionally feel the jelly bean poking around too. And we got to see his/her face on a 3D scan (those are so cool). And PJ runs up to pat my “baby belly” and sometimes he insists that he has to kiss it too.

Yup, it’s not all bad. In fact, it’s pretty great. I’m growing a human and no matter how I look at that, all I see is a miracle.

 

XO

 

Flowers and Fruit: 4 Years

Today the Mr. and I have been married for four years. Dude. Time flies. Four years ago we were in the US getting ready for our marriage ceremony at my Nana and Papa's house.

First we got married, then we kissed a lot, took a hell of a lot of pictures, and then we partied.

One of many, many kisses.

Want to see more pictures? Check them out here.

I almost named this blog Dancing Queen and Mr. Man...

...which wouldn't have been fair 'cause he can move.

One week later we celebrated in Germany. Back then, in 2009, we thought we knew what it was like to be busy and tired.

We are excited but also already tired. Who has two weddings in one week on different continents?!

Then in 2011 when our family expanded, we all learned what it the word 'tired' actually means. And I learned about good facial creams, but that's another story.

I call this picture "Bewildered I".

 

Some of us look cuter with 'tired' then others.

 

And in 2012, with us both working full-time and putting our first house together, we got a taste of 'busy'. I would post a picture of us busy but I was too busy to actually take one.

I'm supposing with the arrival of our little jelly bean in October, we only know the half of both 'tired' and 'busy'. I'm also thinking we may be a little nuts. We'll see. But either way, four years into this shared adventure of marriage with the Mr. (and nine of us being together), I know this is still My Good Life.

And how many people get to write that?


xo

Little Projects

One benefit of our new home is a nice-sized garden and our awesome new patio. The garden needs a lot of love and work over the next couple of years to rescue a few of the plants and trees and simplify the rest. This year we are focusing on cleaning out the remaining vines above the patio, laying new grass, and growing our first set of plants: pumpkins.

PJ and I have been sharing this project. We started with seeds and then we waited (PJ wasn't very interested in this part). About a week ago the first tiny little leaves poked up above the earth.

PJ was very interested in those first leaves.

Almost every morning we come downstairs and check out how our plants are doing. Out of 20 seeds, four plants are growing. Which, considering we are talking about pumpkin plants here, is more than enough.

 

Today I realized we've almost reached that magical moment of four-leaf plants, meaning we can replant our pumpkins outside on the pile of leftover earth from our patio and new grass projects. PJ was super, super excited.  

 

If I may say so myself, they sure do look good!

Another benefit of our new house is that we have four bedrooms. So at the same time, as PJ and I have been working on our plant project, I've been working on my own 'little' project. Just around the time we'll be harvesting the pumpkins, we will also be redecorating one those rooms. Because in October we will be welcoming our fourth Steinbach clan member!

14 weeks

We are super, super excited to welcome our little addition. One of us can hardly wait...

16 weeks

xo

The Least We Can Do

On December 14, 2012 the company I work for hosted the few thousand of us that work in the corporate headquarters for a massive and extravagant Christmas party. Unlimited beer, wine, and other drinks. Never-ending trays of yummy foods all over our massive cafeteria. A DJ that spun one hit after another, under elaborate winter decorations and a light show.

On December 14, 2012 a man attacked a kindergarten in Sandy Hook, CT in the United States, my homeland, and massacred twenty children and six adult staff members. I wrote about my initial reaction here.

I learned about the massacre over my smartphone while at that extravagant Christmas party. I dealt with my shock and my overwhelming empathy the only way I knew how at that moment: I put down the wine and started dancing. I danced so hard and for so long that I bruised all of toenails. I still carry those bruises with me on both of my big toes.

As the days turned into weeks and then into months, I couldn't sleep, and then I could. I couldn't stop crying when I picked up PJ from his day care, and then I could. I couldn't stop watching the news, and then I could. I couldn't stop imagining what those poor parents are going through and, you know what, I still can't. I couldn't believe that my culture could accept the ongoing massacre of citizens - even the shocking massacre of 20 children inside their locked school - as the "price of freedom", and I still can't. I couldn't stop feeling helpless, and then I could.

First I got more informed. I learned about the statistics available about violence in the US. I learned that there are a lot of stats available regarding car accidents as well as violent deaths of just about everything but not gun-related violent deaths. The stats aren't there because the American government voted to make that type of research illegal. So Slate started to collect the data. Turns out that over 3,500 people have died a gun-related death since the Sandy Hook massacre.

I learned about how people can buy guns, sell guns, collect guns in the United States. I learned about how mental health services are available or not in various parts of the country. I learned about how bullying is addressed or not in various parts of the country. I learned about how sex is blocked on almost all TV channels but not scenes of violence. I followed survey data. I watched and read various organizations and people speak about the problem of violence in the US and their suggestions for solving the problem.

Then I got involved. I wrote Facebook posts, tweets. I emailed and left voice mail messages for my representatives, senators, and state government officials. I joined an organization called Moms Demand Action For Gun Sense in America. I believed that together we would find reasonable solutions that respect our culture, our freedoms, our legal foundations, and our future. It looked like my belief was founded.

Then the Senate voted for the first time on a bill to standardised the background checks required for buying a gun. It was an easy vote for all of the Senate members because across all states, the vast majority of voters support the need to standardised the background checks.

Yet, the bill failed. The bill that the vast majority of voters - these Senators bosses - support failed. It failed because these Senators voted not to represent their voters but their paychecks from a very powerful and very wealthy lobby organization called the National Rifle Association. It was a set back towards a reasonable solution.

But I still believe. I believe that together we will find reasonable solutions that respect our culture, our freedoms, our legal foundations, and our future. Solutions that also respect those 20 children that will never turn 8 years old; that will never be held by their parents again; that will never laugh or learn or cry or grow again.

We can find and create those solutions together. But we have to continue the conversations, the discussions, the debates. We have to continue speaking out, acting out. We have to remain on the right side of history.

This is one chapter. One chapter in a long book that we are writing together. I hope you will join me in writing each chapter of this book. Because this little man - like all of our children all over the world and their parents - deserve at least that from us.

 

At least.





xo

Mexican

Right before my mom, Granny, took off back to the US, we took her out for Mexican food in our little town. Kind of ironic that we were in Germany and headed out for Mexican, but the food there is really, really good.

And my mom seems to like irony and I think she was just excited to get out with all of us for one last time, especially since during her three weeks with us we dealt with the flu, a series of infections, a cold, as well as a set of fevers.

The Steinbach clan.

We love this restaurant because they are so friendly to everyone, especially kids, and the food and drinks are all made in-house. They also have kick-ass drinks. I may enjoy the kick-ass drinks the most...though the guac is way up on the list too.

Mom doesn't drink alcohol...but she's a hell of a ham for the camera.

We always start the meal off with guacamole. The guacamole is excellent and the chips are homemade, fresh, warm, and crispy. PJ insisted in helping us all put the guac onto our chips, mostly choosing to either eat (or at least lick) our chips before he handing them over.

Eating with a toddler is not for those with a weak stomach.

Getting the guac onto the chips requires concentration.

When our meals arrived, the "small kids portion of french fries" turns out to be much larger than any of us expected. PJ was thrilled! For the record, we had to get the ketchup refilled and he ate about half of those fries.

Thankfully we actually remembered to bring a bib with us because PJ got just about as much into his face, onto his face, and all over his bib.  

And that was before he started playing around with his Granny. The last few blogs are full of fun pictures and videos of them playing together. Even out to eat, they got on so well together; PJ of course setting the tone and leading the games. Just like here:

Of course, PJ got bored quickly and, thankfully, was free to walk around the room, trying out almost every free seat while the owners goofed around with him. As the three adults finished our meals, we all began to join into the fun. My mom caught this picture of the three of us enjoying each other.

 

And then dinner was over, just like Granny's three weeks with us: too quickly and although we knew it was coming, still sad when it ended.

The next morning, we finally managed to grab a picture of all four of us right before I drove Granny to the airport.

 

The next morning, PJ looked everywhere for his "Annie" (Granny). I think its safe to say we are all looking forward to seeing her and other guests soon!


xo