Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Catch-up

I remember hearing this phrase often.

Sometimes in jest and sometimes with a bit of disappointment in the undertone.

Its the lament of the second child.

The Parents bane.

I have to say, I have a bit more empathy for the parents now than I did way back when.

It was always the same.

It went something like this.

“There are hundreds of pictures of (insert older siblings name), but none of me!”

Well let me tell you something,

Effort is needed to take a good picture.

Energy fuels picture organization.

Time is essential to chronicle and publish pictures.

I’m willing to wager a bet, if you were to ask your parents about this, the answer would be simple. “We were glad to get a moments rest.” I’d put money on it.

I’d also bet that during this same time period there were not only very few pictures of you but fewer pictures of your older sibling too. All your parents wanted, all your parents needed, was a quiet moment and most likely sleep.

They didn’t get a break; being pulled in all directions; Binky alarm one second, giving piggy back rides the next, catching your flying daughter as she leaps from the couch, encouraging your baby to roll over as he drools all over you. There just isn’t any energy left.

And this is the paradox. This is one of the best times to be with your kids. So many cool things happen. You’re there in the moment, soaking it all up. And if your lucky, you are part of that picture, you’d rather be there than behind the camera.

But those moments, are they destined to fade in our memory because?

I certainly hope not.

The stories have been floating around in my head and several pictures have been taken (but not thoroughly catalogued). In an effort to elude the parent’s bane and retain the interesting and funny stories of childhood, grab a cup of coffee, here’s a recap of some of the more interesting moments over the past few weeks.


Aunt Steffi and Uncle Carsten turned 30 and had a big bash to celebrate. Stella had a blast; learning to dance on one leg from Maja (age 5), spinning around on the ground break-dance style from Lucie (age 3.5) and dancing, dancing, and more dancing. I watched her battery level drop in real time her movements became slower, speech structure scattered. Slowly slinking to the floor, repeatedly refusing to head home until I finally said enough at 22:30. The poor child couldn’t speak anymore as I got her ready for bed.



This little energizer bunny needed sleep. So much so that she didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning. On a few occasions we went into her room and asked her if she wanted to get up. A barely audible “I want to sleep” as she rolled over was her reply. Finally around 11:30 she crawled out of bed.


Stella is really understanding that she knows two languages. She will often now ask what something is called in daddy’s language or when I say a word she tells me what it is in mommy’s language, or she asks which language that is. I have also been teaching/pushing a little bit more sentence structure in English which she is grasping and putting together basic sentences. Often if she asks me something and I don’t respond right away she will switch and ask the question again in English…to which I will happily respond and give positive reinforcement. She has also thrown in a third language from time to time. We aren’t quite sure what it is. It isn’t Elvish, nor Klingon but she seems to know what she is saying. Maybe she’s communicating with the aliens.



This week I introduced the names of the fingers to Stella. She has one absolute favorite…”Pinky”, probably because it has the word “pink” in it. It was a marvele when she realized that she had two pinkies and proudly exclaimed the fact. For what ever reason though, when we are discussing the fingers, she has to grab onto the pinky and hid it.

I can’t think of a logical reason so I won’t even try to hypothesize about it, she just does it.

Stella has her own color. I really thought it was a stereotype, but however neutral we have tried to be, Pink is the hands down her favorite color. If she sees it, she says it is” her” color. You have to prod her to say the actual name. It’s “her” color, isn’t that enough? Now usually when someone has a favorite color they always want to use that color. For Stella though, this color is holy, we can’t use it. We are not allowed to use the pink plate, pink fork or pink cup. The pink colored pencils and markers stay safely in their box. Pink is the ultimate color, meant to be collected, stashed away, worn and worshiped.


Did you know that Stella goes to work too? She works far away…in Lübeck. She gets there in a pink car. She packs her backpack all that she needs to pass a full day at work. Necessary items such as a wallet, hand cream, chap-stick, cell phone, spoon, Flintstone vitamins, camera, coloring book, and markers. Then she’s ready to walk down the street to the corner store and buy some eggs.

A hard days work finished.


Emmett wants to turn himself around. He tries, he struggles, he reaches but can get only about two thirds of the way around. He can’t quite finish the final step. If we offer our hand he will grab it and whip himself onto his belly. When on his belly he will reach for things and pull them towards. Everything goes into his mouth, especially your hand. He will slobber all over you and for having no teeth he has a bite that hurts.


Stella will help us cut food like cucumbers and peppers. While sitting in your lap she will place her hand on top of yours while you cut. While she can and will try to cut things with her plastic knives she knows that the real knives are dangerous and only for mommy and daddy. However, even we need close supervision and if she isn’t on our lap to help then she tells us to “be very careful and don’t cut your finger.”


And don’t cut the Emmett roast. To give us a couple of free hands to eat our dinner with, we have brought Emmett’s bed into the kitchen and laid it on the table. There he can lie and watch us while we eat. The bed does take up a lot of room however. One day in an attempt to create a bit more space for us, the bed was slid a bit further back. We forgot that he has go-go-gadget arms and almost pulled the gingerbread house and radio down on top of him.


Move over Fox, The Cat in the Hat is in the house. Stella often asked who the cat was (Doctor Seuss logo) on the back of the book. The Cat in the Hat I would reply. Grandma Carolina gave Stella the Cat in the Hat for Christmas (unbeknownst do this fascination) which was a hit…now the Cat in the Hat has become our nightly reading material.


There is a German book called “Vier freunden von Bauernhoff” (four friends from the farm), a collection of three short stories. Stella knows this story inside and out and can tell you the stories…partly in either language. The four friends are a duck, cow, pig and sheep. Stella has decided that Daddy is the duck, Opa the pig, Oma the cow and mommy the sheep. Stella is the sheep’s stuffed animal and Holly is the duck’s rubber ducky. Now when she reads the stories (or asks them to be read to her,) the stories are read with the people instead of the animal names.


Emmett is soaking in his surroundings. Bright and alert he surveys the scene. If you turn the wrong way, he’ll twist himself in your harms into the most uncomfortable position (for you) to make sure he sees what is going on. He’s also become a grabber but hasn’t perfected the motor skills. You have to watch him like a hawk and be careful where your hair, coffee and other hazardous/valuable items may be. His vice like hands will sometimes grab his family Jules while changing. I keep promising him he’ll want those some day as I pry his hands free but he doesn’t seem to care right now.


Bear Hug

Emmett likes to sleep in the cold. Even though our weather is in the minus degrees (teens in Fahrenheit) he prefers to be outside. We noticed that he slept better when we were in Carlow. The basement bedrooms are naturally cooler than our bedroom. So as good loving parents we have turned off the heat in our room so he can sleep (bringing the room temp into the sixties). The verdict is still out but daddy has come to like the coolness, mommy less so.


Daddy is continuously inching towards his dream of a motorcycle and it seems that Emmett is heading down the same path. He has what I call a Kick-starter leg. Both legs do not move in the same symmetrical movement when he is kicking around. His right leg is decidedly the favorite and he pumps it hard as if he is trying to kick start a motorcycle. I see some quality father-son times in the future ,-P


Speaking of two wheels…now that the roads have cleared from the all the snow we had; Stella has picked up her ride again…and with a vengeance!

While in the fall she would go up and down the street a few times and be done, now she is a long distance rider. She’ll spend all afternoon riding if we let her and prefers this to walking and riding in the stroller.

The other day she didn’t want to take her nap. She threw on her riding gear, the daycare mom put the other kid in the stroller and they hit the road. They road out past our village halfway to the next village and back. Then Stella “had” to go to the playground. The Daycare mom asked Stella “do you have enough energy? Will you make it to the playground and back?” to which she retorted “I’ll make it , can you?” The full trip was 6.5 kilometers (4 miles) and she was still going strong in the evening until she crashed and burned in bed. hmmm…maybe some good father-daughter times in the future too.


The family is going to see the chickens, just like we do

Friends of ours told us how their baby daughter laughs hysterically at the word chicken. One night I decided to give it a try and Emmett laughed instantly. Stella also thought this was hysterical and now gets right into Emmett’s face and screams chicken at the top of her lungs. Of course he doesn’t find that nearly as amusing. Either he is being hardened for a life with a dominant older sister or is going to have a fear of chickens for the rest of his life. Hopefully neither.


And so ends this episode of the Bunny Rabbit Chronicles.