Not a morning person

Since we usually post pictures that show her in the best possible light, it seemed only fair to report that she's not always a happy little camper:

Uncle Miltie

Tomorrow is Bundesfeiertag (Swiss National Day...sort of like our 4th of July), which means: (a) a day off work tomorrow, although I was so bitter to discover lots of folks had today off despite it being a normal work day for me that I rebelled and didn't wear a tie...I'm out of control!; (b) wearing red and white is de rigeur; and (c) it's time to give Grady sedatives for his Feuerwerkangst (fear of fireworks). We've never done that before, but we heard it's not uncommon here so we called the vet and, sure enough, he hooked us up with a batch of poochie downers. Best of all, when I looked up the drug online (Gretchen was a bit nervous before giving it to him the first time), I learned that his sedative actually has a street name: "Uncle Miltie". For some reason I find it more amusing than I can possibly say that I'm giving my dog something with a street name, let alone something called an Uncle Miltie.

The social butterfly

I'm always happy when Baby allows us to socialize with our friends. By "allows us", I mean that she doesn't have a hysterical meltdown while out in public, which causes me great stress, which undoubtedly makes her more hysterical as she senses that I don't know what to do to calm her down, etc. Friday night was a good example of a hysterical night out... we were hosting a group of 12 adults and 6 newborn babies (from our prenatal class) at our sports club for a farewell dinner for one of the couples (who are moving back to the US), and our sweet baby screamed practically the whole time we were there, which meant I really didn't enjoy myself or have a chance to eat my dinner.

Fortunately, the rest of the weekend was far less hysterical. Both Saturday and Sunday night we were invited over to friends' houses for summer BBQs, and both evenings Baby was relaxed and enjoyed herself, thus allowing us to enjoy ourselves as well!

On Saturday, we hung out with Bill and Sabrina and their 3 girls (who only last week were evacuated from Beirut). As you can see, Baby is taking after her mother's Wisconsin roots and situating herself close to the beer at all times.



On Sunday, we were invited over to have dinner in "The Fish Bowl" at The Big Finn and Mrs TBF's place. Take note, Baby, and learn how to grill from the master! How lucky are we to have all these friends with gorgeous rooftop terraces and good grills for BBQing?

If you want to win points with your wife...

...buy her the new Dixie Chicks CD. It's pretty much been on non-stop since the middle of last week, and I have to give it a thumbs-up too. More pop/rock than country, plus it's good to see them succeed after the ridiculous overreaction to their anti-Bush comments.

The super pooper

Before (with a sore tummy)...



...during (what a relief!)...



...and after (through her diaper and outfit and onto my shirt and shorts):



Good times all around! (Is that too much information?)

Lost in translation

Our landlord is away on holiday, and since we have a co-dependent relationship, we're taking in her mail and watering her plants while she's away. Yesterday we found a pineapple (Ananas in German) outside our door, along with a note from her that said, among other things: "Please have pleasure on the Ananas--an wonderful fruit at this hot time."

Pleasure on the Ananas?

A very special sweater

My Mom loved to knit. As a kid, I'm sure I didn't appreciate it because most children don't want to wear clothes that are knit (or sewn) by their mother. Only later in life did I realize how cool it was that my Mom knit lots of beautiful sweaters.

A couple years ago, my Mom started knitting a sweater for a very special friend of hers (let's call her R) who lived across the street from her in Madison. R was expecting twins, and had a very difficult pregnancy, and my Mom was a great support to her along the way. This project was a baby sweater to be given to R upon arrival of her twins. Unfortunately, my Mom never finished knitting the sweater before she got sick with cancer. She asked me to be sure to give the half-finished sweater, plus all the extra yarn, to R someday. Not long after my Mom passed away, I did so. R was so touched, but of course her babies were too big to wear the sweater at that point. R was just learning to knit as well, so my Mom thought she could finish the sweater herself, even if the twins couldn't wear it.

Last summer, when I was back in Wisconsin, I visited R (and her family) and she gave me the finished baby sweater. At this point, I wasn't pregnant yet, but R said she wanted me to have the sweater in case I ever had a baby to wear it.

Fast forward to this summer. We have a baby, we have the special never-been-worn baby sweater, but we also have a heat wave! Last night was a bit cooler, and we had plans with friends for dinner, so I decided it would be the night of the sweater's debut. It was especially meaningful for me that Baby wore the sweater my Mom had made "for her" last night, as it was exactly two years ago yesterday that we said goodbye to my Mom. At long last, here's the sweater...

Grand theft

I'm stealing the idea for this post from The Big Finn, who stole it from a bunch of other people. Since I could only figure out one (barely) of his songs--and only after Mrs TBF got it first--I decided to try it here. My guess is that these will be easier than his:

Step 1: Get your playlist together from your iPod, put it on random, and play. [Since I'm indecisive by nature, I cheated and am using two playlists: six from "Pop", which is pretty much stuff that didn't fit anywhere else (and is probably the easier of the two), and six from "Chill", which is what I listen to if I'm stuck in an airport and want to tune the world out.]

Step 2: Write down the first line from the first 10 songs that play or close to it.

Step 3: Post and let everyone you know guess what song the lines come from.

Step 4: Cross out the songs when someone guesses correctly. [Note: unlike The Big Finn, I have no intention of awarding prizes]

OK, here's the easier list:

1) In your white lace and your wedding bells

2) I found my locker and I found my classes - "Grade 9", Barenaked Ladies [The Big Finn]

3) Home is where I want to be - "This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)", Talking Heads [Stacy noblog]

4) I bought a toothbrush, some toothpaste, a flannel for my face - "Tempted", Squeeze [Stacy noblog]

5) Men reading fashion magazines

6) Love is a burning thing - "Ring of Fire", Johnny Cash--although this happened to be the Wall of Voodoo version [Ms. Mac]

And here's the perhaps slightly more difficult list:

A) New favorite, they all say it

B) I'm free now to direct a movie

C) You threw away the ballast and you rowed your boat ashore - "Make It All OK", R.E.M. [Heather...who named the band but not the song, but we'll give it to her anyway]

D) He searched for those wings that he knew that this angel should have at her back

E) I don't get many things right the first time

F) If you were to wake up and I were beside you

Another first

Today was Munchkin's first ride on a train--to Bern to get her passport, a story for another time. She seemed to LOVE the train (although maybe it was just because the train was air-conditioned so she could cool off for the first time in three weeks).

BFC?

So we just stumbled upon this really cheesy show on Viva (sort of a German MTV) called Dance Star 2006 (brought to you by o.b. tampons, in case you were wondering). What else are you going to do when it's still 83F inside the house, your baby is breastfeeding and you can't possibly watch any more bombing on CNN? Anyway, it seemed to involve a bunch of young people trying out to be on a dance show of some sort. Why am I wasting your time telling you this? Because two of the guys trying out happened to be breakdancing brothers from Basel, one of whom was actually wearing a shirt that said, in big capital letter, "BASEL FU**IN CITY" (only there weren't asterisks). You haven't lived until you've seen local Swiss hip-hop kids. Word. Peace out...

Turn on the air conditioning, please...

I'm melting. And I'm quite sure that I'm very close to losing my mind as well.

As I'm sure we've mentioned before, nothing in Basel (including houses/apartments) is air conditioned. I've really never been bothered by that before because the heat here is nothing like what we lived with in DC. Now, I think it's coming close. For the past 2+ years we've heard everyone in Basel complain about the infamous Summer of 2004. The "hot summer". Well, I've now heard a few people say that this current heat wave may actually be worse than the 2004 heat because it's also humid. We've had countless days in a row of temps in the 90s, with humidity, and it hardly even cools off in the evening. The temperature inside our house is generally 82 or 83 by noon, after dipping to a morning cool temperature of 77 or 78. That is not cool enough! I've found that it's somewhat bearable if I sit right in front of the fan and don't move, but as soon as I start moving I begin sweating profusely which makes me miserable, especially when holding (or nursing) a beautiful little Baby (aka "the heat machine").

Normally, I wouldn't complain about a warm summer because I would just plant myself at the pool to stay cool, but now I have a little one to care for (not to mention that my doctor recommends waiting 6 weeks post-delivery to go swimming again-- is that torture or what?). While we try to get out to run errands or take a walk or visit with friends every morning, I always try to be back home by early afternoon so that I don't cause Baby to have a meltdown (literally). That's when I start to go crazy! Seriously, cabin fever is starting to set in. Is there any end in sight to this heat?!

Recent firsts

First barbeque, at friends Douglas & Liz's place:



First picture Gretchen took of me with our new camera (also at barbeque...just in case the smoke didn't make that abundantly obvious):



First Swiss cows--no connection to barbeque (that we're aware of):



Gretchen's first post-natal beer:



First visit to the pediatrician (good embarrassment value during teen years):

Good news

We were very happy to get a text message this afternoon from our friends who had been stuck in Beirut. They were on a US naval ship headed for Turkey (after an 8-hour wait at the port beginning at 5:30am with three small children). From there they'll evidently take a flight to Istanbul and then finally back to Switzerland. And as awful as it sounds like their experience has been (evidently their youngest daughter came in during the night and told them the "lightning"--i.e., shelling--scared her), in a lot of ways they're lucky in that they were in a relatively safe area unlike those who are stranded in the south of the country. Plus, of course, they have the passports and means to get out, whereas many others don't have that option. What an incredibly depressing situation...

Sleep cycle

I wanted to post these in a nice, neat little row but haven't had the time or energy to figure out how to manipulate the HTML and CSS when posting a photo in Blogger so this is the best I could do--Gretchen took these while Munchkin tossed and turned in her sleep one recent afternoon:

We found the culprit

Here is a picture of all the delicious summer fruits I will no longer be eating.



This includes all my favorite fruits, of course, such as cherries, nectarines, apricots and peaches. After having it suggested to us by both the nurse at the Beratung and our pediatrician, I am giving up all fruits with a pit. I haven't had them for two days and Anneliese's fussiness/hysteria has dramatically diminished. Perhaps it's just a coincidence... but I think not. I'm sad to be missing out on these beautiful summer fruits, but I think it's worth it! My sister just reminded me that this is just the first of many sacrifices I will be making as a mother...

My new favorite German word...

...may be Aufgepimpt.

(As in "Pimp My Ride", or "Pimp My Fahrrad" if you prefer.)

Should have known better

Over the years I've found that one of the quickest ways to get healthy is to make an appointment to see the doctor. It's almost a given that no matter how bad I'm feeling, as soon as I get to the doctor's office I miraculously feel better and consequently feel like an idiot for wasting his/her time (of course, the symptoms are then likely to return as soon as I've left the office).

Why do I bring this up? Because after four nights in a row of frighteningly uncontrollable hysterics, we figured it was time to take her to the pediatrician to see if there was anything wrong (it's almost time for her one-month checkup anyway). Sure enough, after calling and making an appointment for this afternoon...last night was possibly her best night since we've been home. No hysterics, took turns sleeping in both of our arms, even let us watch a movie (Crash, which I had seen on a plane but Gretchen hadn't seen yet...as an aside, while I found a lot of the dialogue to be forced/unrealistic--not unlike an earlier movie about race relations in L.A., Grand Canyon--I really liked the look & feel of it).

So anyway, today we go to the pediatrician and there's almost a part of me that hopes she has at least a mini-meltdown so he doesn't think we're crazy when we tell him she's been so hysterical. (Incidentally, she could have stopped crying for a million reasons, but one of the most intriguing possibilities is that when Gretchen was at the Mütter- und Väterberatung the other day to get advice, the nurse asked if she ate a lot of cherries because fruits with pits sometimes end up irritating baby's stomachs. Sure enough, we live in the midst of a cherry-growing region and Gretchen not only eats them daily, but also eats apricots and nectarines. So she immediately gave them up, but for all we know she could have just been in a growth spurt that has now ended or maybe she simply wore herself out and after a good night's sleep is ready for more hysterics tonight. They're complicated little creatures...)

The passport: Step 1

Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a 3-week old baby to pose for a photo that will be considered appropriate for an American passport? That was my task for the morning. We went to a photo shop in Basel that has been recommended by many American parents of babies because they have a reputation for knowing how to meet the American passport standards.

In order to get an American passport, the baby must be sitting up, with eyes open, both ears visible, and no hands/fingers in front of her face. Parents (or any other person) cannot be visible in the picture. So I sat on a stool with a white sheet covering me, Baby propped up in my lap, while the lady at the photo shop talked to Baby to get her attention toward the camera. That is not easy when she's only 3 weeks old! At first, she was sleeping, so we took off her socks and tickled her toes to try and wake her. As you would imagine, that meant she woke up crabby. None of those pictures turned out, so the photo lady suggested I go for a walk and come back later. We went to Starbucks where I fed Baby (public breast-feeding is getting easier by the day), and then rushed back to the photo shop while Baby was happy from eating, but not too sleepy from eating too much. On this second try, the photo lady snapped a bunch of good ones, but unfortunately a tiny bit of one of my arms is visible in the best picture, so they needed to work on cropping out my arm. We had both had enough for today, so we'll be going back to pick up the photo tomorrow.

Kirk has taken a million pictures of Baby since her birthday three weeks ago and I'm just thinking... wouldn't it be nice if the embassy just allowed us to use one of those?!

Insult to injury

Oh, and did I mention that for the past week we've seemed to have a nightly mini-infestation of what appear to be flying ants in our kitchen and entryway, to the extent that the other night we had to get the vacuum cleaner out at around midnight (a huge no-no in Switzerland, by the way) to suck them all up? Yes, it's good times all around...

Beratung

While we're pretty used to most of what this area has to offer and aren't nearly as amazed by things after two-and-a-half years, every now and again we still encounter something that is so different from home that we can't believe it. In this case, after already enjoying the luxury of a five-day stay in the hospital after the birth, now we've taken advantage of something here called the Mütter- und Väterberatung (which basically translates as "mother and father advice").

It turns out that basically every community has at least one of these, and you can take your baby--without an appointment--to get weighed and ask all kinds of advice from a nurse, basically for free (20 francs for the year). Gretchen has been twice already (which is how we learned today that Munchkin gained 300 grams this week...I have no idea what that means). The nearest thing we have back home is probably the free clinic, which tends to serve low-income clients and has a certain stigma about it. This, on the other hand, serves all mothers and is really an amazing resource. I can't help but wonder if all those politicians who claim to be so concerned about "family values" would be willing to support something like that in the States (and I think I know the answer).

I think I'm crazy

Today's lyric snippet for the day is brought to you courtesy of Gnarls Barkley:

I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind...

Earlier this year, I remember seeing a local story about a woman who hurt her baby when he wouldn't stop crying. At the time, Heather (Swiss Blogger of the Year^TM!) blogged about it and it obviously struck a chord because I thought to search for her post today.

I have to say, after the past few days I feel like I really understand that woman's helplessness on some level. (No worries, our little Munchkin is not at risk!) I'm not sure I've ever felt as helpless and frustrated than when she's crying and screaming hysterically. I'm not talking a fussy, I-need-to-eat cry. I'm talking a scream-so-loud-your-eardrums-burst-and-it-looks-like-her-head-is-going-to-explode-and-the-neighbors-might-call-the-police cry. Or perhaps bellow is more like it (or, according to the thesaurus: bark, bawl, bay, beller, blare, bluster, bray, call, clamor, cry, howl, low, roar, rout, scream, shout, shriek, wail, whoop, yawp, yell, yelp). We're hoping it's just a growth spurt, but otherwise I fear our little angel may have colic. We've rocked her, we've swaddled her, we've walked with her, we've driven with her, we've given her tummy massages, we've given her fennel tea (a Swiss herbal remedy they gave her in the hospital that cleaned her out better and more quickly than any laxative), we've pushed her in the pram, you name it (tonight I even tried to gallop with her--she kept crying, but at least it gave Gretchen a good laugh). Unfortunately for Gretchen, when it's bad, there's only thing that can possibly soothe her: The Boob. Hourly, sometimes even more than that. So as much as I'm on the verge of tearing my hair out, it's twice as hard on Gretchen, not just mentally but physically as well.

Having said all that, we keep telling ourselves it will get better. Someday. And in the meantime mornings are good (which doesn't help me much!), and when we see her looking like this it's all good:

Word for the day

The other day when I had my office visitor, one of my Japanese colleagues told us that there is not necessarily an actual word for "baby" in Japanese. Instead, they call babies akachan, which means "red person" (because of how they look when they cry, etc). These are the kind of fun things you learn in an international work environment...

Mayhem

One of the side-effects of traveling a lot in my job is that I find myself much more interested in what happens in places after I've been there. It takes me longer than before to read the newspaper or The Economist because I find myself reading articles about places like Hong Kong, Thailand, Egypt, Spain, Senegal, etc, that I once would have skipped right past. So, having been to Beirut a couple of years ago, it has been especially frightening to see what has been happening in Lebanon (and Israel) over the past several days.

I really have nothing intelligent--or certainly nothing that would fit in a blog post--about why this is happening or what should be done about it. Even at peace, Lebanon struck me as an incredibly complicated place in an even more complicated region, with a complicated history and a complicated social/political/religious environment. The people suffered greatly through the civil war, but seemed to have made tremendous progress in rebuilding. I can't claim to know it, but I'm nevertheless more saddened than I might have been before.

On top of that, we have close friends who are currently on holiday in Beirut (he's American and she's Lebanese with family there). While she and their children had planned to be there for most of the summer, he was supposed to fly home this weekend, but with the airport bombed and roads to Syria closed (and Syria probably not being the most welcome place for Americans to travel in any event), we have no idea when or how he'll be able to get back. I'm actually not as worried about their safety as I probably should be, but I would nevertheless imagine that they've got plenty of anxiety and uncertainty right now.

I wish I had something more cogent or witty or deep to say, but that's all my addled brain can come up with at the moment...

Picture show

So the photo club at work is having another exhibition, this time with the theme of "Waiting". Since there's no cost to submit entries and we have no shortage of photos to choose from, we figured we'd email a few each and see how it shakes out (in the previous exhibition they ended up nicely framing this one). We just found out these two were selected, the first taken by Gretchen in Norway and the second taken by me in Bangkok:




Meanwhile, these were the others Gretchen submitted that were rejected, the first in Burgundy and the second at the Basel Zolli:




And these were my rejects, with Grady on the train in Wengen and in the hospital a few weeks ago:




[And can I just say that I'm tearing my hair out trying to figure out how to post multiple pictures next to each other horizontally rather than vertically? Argh...]

Lesson for the day

You might think it would be physically impossible to poop through the front of one's clothes.

But you know what?

You'd be wrong.

Good wood

When I think of Swiss orderliness and tidiness, one of the images that always stays with me is the stacks of firewood you see everywhere you go (but especially up in the Alps). I defy you to find nicer stacks of wood anywhere--I'm convinced it's a school graduation requirement here to be able to build a pile of wood that is perfectly level on all sides and where nothing larger than a pencil can fit between any two pieces of wood. We were taking a walk this weekend and stumbled across this example (which would probably be considered a bit sloppy by exacting Swiss standards):

Clouds on the horizon

Just to prove that we're capable of taking pictures of more than just Baby, tonight we had an impressive sky after a thunderstorm brushed past (and thankfully dropped the temperature by about 10 degrees Fahrenheit within an hour):

Bring your daughter to work

I had a very special visitor to the office this morning, and as you can see she already seems to have an aversion to work (or perhaps to me)...

Meltdown action shot!

It's so hot here these days...

...that even my man-pris would be uncomfortable to wear. Because I know you care.

Word of the day

If you were geblitzt, does that mean you were:

(a) Really drunk;

(b) Attacked by neo-Nazi hooligans;

(c) Sacked by a German linebacker; or

(d) Caught speeding by a radar camera?

Correct answer: (d).

[These are the kinds of things you learn when you listen to traffic reports in German. Likewise, I've learned that the German words for "thunder" and "lightning" are Donner and Blitzen, which may sound familiar even to some non-German speakers.]

Dive right in

A colleague passed this along this morning, in honor of the Weltmeisterschaft champions from our neighbor to the south (or, as Dictator Princess calls them, the Ken Dolls). There are few countries I like more than Italy, but for some reason I find their soccer team to be incredibly irritating, especially in their mastery of diving at the slightest contact (the colleague who sent this feels even more strongly, as he's from Australia and was actually at the match where the Socceroos lost to Italy on a disputed dive):

Fact or fiction?

There are some things that you hear or read that end up not being exactly the way you think it's going to be:

All babies love baths...FICTION! We've carefully checked the temperature, done everything to keep her warm, you name it, and I swear one of these days the neighbors are going to call the authorities because of how loudly she wails when we put her in the water.

A baby's poop doesn't stink, especially when it's your baby...FICTION! In the interest of propriety, I won't elaborate.

All babies do is eat and sleep...FICTION! They also fuss and squirm and cry. Sometimes for hours at a time. Hypothetically. (And it appears to be a gas thing, not a swaddling thing.)

It's all about mom...FACT! Some of my most gratifying moments have been when I've actually been able to calm her down, but those moments are few and far between. Most of the time if she's crying, she wants something I'm afraid I just can't offer her.

It's all good

I've realised I may have mistakenly given the impression that we were having baby issues. While we've had our occassional moments of frustration when our Munchkin is a bit fussy and hard to soothe, overall--knock on wood--she is actually doing quite well (and, by extension, so are we). This is partly a reflection of the difference in outlook between Gretchen and I: when I say things are "going pretty well, but challenging", Gretchen would say "things are going great!" So, as always, anything I say should be taken with a huge grain of salt...

Gimme a kiss!

How can you not love a face like this?!

Learning by doing (or not)

A conversation we had last night, when our little Munchkin wouldn't stop crying and we were trying to figure out what to do:

GRETCHEN: Do you think we should take her temperature?

ME: Sure. Do we even have a thermometer?

GRETCHEN: I bought one in the States...see if you can find it.

ME: OK, found it. The directions say we should use a water-based lubricant. Do we have any?

GRETCHEN: I have vaseline--is that water-based?

ME: I think that's actually petroleum-based.

GRETCHEN: What's a water-based lubricant?

ME: I have no idea...does she feel hot?

GRETCHEN: I don't think so.

ME: Ummm...well, then maybe we should just take her temperature tomorrow instead.

And that's how, for the first time in my life, I ended up with a shopping list that had "water-based lubricant" written on it. (And while I was at it, I went ahead and bought a centigrade thermometer as well since it won't help if we call the doctor to say she has a temperature of 102...)

Going out

This is an experiment. Is it possible to write a blog post while holding a baby? We'll see if I'm able to tpye one-handed, and whether Baby likes sitting at the computer.

I've heard stories of women not leaving their house for days after coming home with a newborn. This was one of my greatest fears post-delivery. What if that happens to me, I thought. I have to get out often or I will go crazy. I can now see how easy it would be to just stay home. Especially if the weather is bad (especially in the winter), if you have a cranky baby, or if you're recovery is slow. The schedule of a newborn is so unpredictable. Maybe it's that way with older babies as well, but at least you become a more experienced parent with more confidence as time goes by.

Thankfully, it's summer now, so the weather is good for babies (unless it's hot like it was earlier this week) and the days are long. After staying in the hospital for 5 days, I really felt pretty good by the time I got home and was very ready to get outside. I've really enjoyed going out for family walks (with Kirk, Baby and Grady) around the neighborhood, and yesterday was our first official outing (sans Grady, however).

We took the tram a few stops down to a nearby neighborhood to do a little shopping, and even had lunch at a restaurant. OK, it was a Migros restaurant (in a grocery store), but you've got to start somewhere, right?



Today, with Kirk back at work, Baby and I ventured out on our own for the first time to meet up with "the ladies". The 6 of us from our prenatal class (plus our babies) have become good friends, and a very supportive Moms group. We met up at Starbucks this morning and our sweet angel slept in her pram (or stroller, if you prefer...) the whole time! After 2 outings in two days I feel so much more confident about getting back to life. Thank you, Baby, for your cooperation!

Wish you were here

Today is a day that brings me special memories. July 6 was my Mom's birthday. She would have been 73 today. Just as I did last year on her birthday, I'm posting a beautiful picture of her from her 70th birthday, which we celebrated as a family at our cabin in Three Lakes. They always say that, after losing a parent, it gets easier over time. This is true. While I'll always miss both my Mom and my Dad, I can now think about them without too much sadness. All the good times and funny memories are much more prominent than the sad ones. More than anything, as Kirk and I are now starting our own family, I wish my parents were here to meet little Baby. My Mom and I were very close friends and I feel like I have so much to tell her about this baby! Happy birthday, Mom, and thank you for all you taught me about patience, and love, and humor. I need those things now, more than ever...

Who does she take after?

There's been a lot of speculation in comments and elsewhere as to which of us Baby most closely resembles, but frankly, we're not sure yet. (Besides, I've never been good at that sort of thing. Then again, I've been known to ask Gretchen if she got a haircut...three weeks later. Must be a guy thing.)

Anyway, here's my take on what we've seen so far:

Blue eyes...Me (but her eye color could still change)

Round face...Gretchen

Receding hairline...Me

Nose...Gretchen

Occasional digestive issues...Me

Difficulty burping...Gretchen (yes, my wife is the only person I've ever known who is literally incapable of belching)

Lots of energy...Gretchen

Angst and intermittent insomnia...Me

Strong will...Gretchen

Awareness of surroundings...Me

Love of snacking...Gretchen

Violent sneezing and hiccups...Me

Kind, caring nature...Gretchen

Appreciation of good books...Me

So I think it's still a toss-up. We'll let you know more as she develops...

God bless America

Thanks to two of my good friends from Wisconsin (Laura in Madison and Nanci in Eagle River), Baby had two outfits to choose from for her first Fourth of July:





[Note from Kirk: We're really not big flag-wavers or anything like that, but Gretchen digs the clothes...]

I'm back

It's a good thing that Kirk likes to blog because somebody needed to keep our blog updated during my recent absence! After 5 days in the hospital and a few days at home I think I'm finally ready to start blogging again. We'll see if Baby lets me do so from time to time. Here are a few random thoughts for the day:

--First of all, thank you all for your kind words and wishes of congratulations following Baby's birth. I'm glad you're enjoying all the pictures because there are sure to be many more of them!

--As I'm sure we've mentioned before, the standard hospital stay in Switzerland is 5 days after delivery. I had so many friends (who hadn't given birth in Switzerland) tell me that I was going to go stir crazy being in the hospital for so long. It was quite the contrary. I felt totally spoiled being able to be in the hospital getting so much help at a time when you're exhausted and overwhelmed and everything is new. I've always been quite uncomfortable being anywhere near hospitals, probably because I spent so much time in hospitals with my parents in recent years, but Bethesda Spital has given me a new appreciation for good health care. Check this out, I even had a balcony overlooking a beautiful park setting!



--Let me tell you about the fastest weight-loss program you've ever heard of... giving birth! I've already lost 20 pounds in one week! Somehow I have a feeling that the other 20 won't come off quite so quickly...

--I'm proud to say I'm done with McDonald's and Burger King. My biggest craving throughout the pregnancy was fast food, and there were times when absolutely nothing else could satisfy. It's disgusting, I know, but sometimes there's nothing like a Whopper. I had my last Burger King Tender Crisp chicken sandwich a few days before delivery and I could tell that was it... I almost felt sick afterward. Auf wiedersehen, fast food.

--Lack of sleep as a new Mom is somehow much more bearable than lack of sleep as a pregnant woman. For the last several weeks before Baby was born I was sleeping horribly. It was nearly impossible to get comfortable and with a pea-sized bladder I made bathroom runs throughout the night. It is an amazing feeling to be able to move around easily in bed without a huge belly! At least I'm now able to get a few hours of solid and restful sleep at a time. And besides, what's better than waking up to the gorgeous smile of a little angel?!

--I noticed yesterday when doing laundry that I no longer get winded walking up the stairs from the laundry room (which is in the basement)! And I can bend over again and see my toes again and can even wear some clothes that aren't size XL maternity. Phew.

--I am a milk machine. I've heard this from new mothers before. You all know I love cows, but I don't want to be one. Seriously, can babies really need to eat this often?!

--You may be wondering how Grady's doing. I think he's sad that he no longer has my undivided attention (he's always been a bit spoiled), but frankly, he doesn't seem to have any interest in Baby and is taking her arrival in stride. They seem to have established a peaceful coexistence. Her cries don't disturb him and she doesn't even flinch when he barks. I guess it's true what they say about babies getting used to certain sounds while inside their Mom's tummy.

--Last, but certainly not least, let me say a word about Kirk. He may have had some anxieties about becoming a father (and I'm sure he still does), but he has been absolutely wonderful. The only thing I love more than staring at my new daughter's precious face is admiring how quickly Kirk has adjusted to being a father and watching how he interacts with her. From the moment she arrived, I could tell he was in love with her. It simply melts my heart. On top of all of that, he's taking such great care of me, helping with anything he can and listening patiently to my frequent bossines.

--Just in time, Baby cries and that's the end of the post...

By the way...

...we're tired, but doing fine. Evidently babies sometimes cry (who knew?), and not only do they not have the good manners to tell you why they're crying, but they also don't respond very well when you try to reason with them. They're also capable of pooping with unbelieveable intensity, and I'll leave it at that. But we're slowly figuring it out and still think she's an absolute sweetheart even when she doesn't let Gretchen get any sleep.

Oh, and this is proof that we don't always dress her in the same lime green outfit that has appeared in about 90% of the pictures so far:

Happy 4th

It's just another day here, but of course back home everyone will be celebrating the time in our nation's history when we rose up against tyranny and fought to be able to drive on the right side of the road, play football with our hands, and drink really crappy watered-down beer. (Or it could have had something to do with taxation without representation...I can never quite remember.) So we hope everyone is firing up the grills, putting the (crappy watered-down) beer on ice and stocking up on fireworks (legal or otherwise) for a fun day.

Got milk?

There's nothing quite like the "milk high" that follows eating...

Today's pix

New friends:



And if this was the prevailing mood yesterday...



...this is how we're feeling today:

Did she just say that?

When we introduced the baby to our landlord yesterday, she was fawning over her and all of a sudden looked up and said to Gretchen, "she has an erotic mouth". Wait, what? I thought she must have meant something that was just lost in translation, but then I heard her say to her husband something about "ein erotischer Mund." I'm sorry, but is that a normal thing to say about a 5-day old baby?

To whom it may concern

Dear Bethesda-Spital:

While the care we received this week was of the highest quality, we fear that you may have made a mistake that needs immediate correction.

When we were sent home, it seems that we were not given a button to push and have a nurse appear within a minute or so. Our understanding is that this button was an upgraded feature that was supposed to be included with the baby. We tried to find this button when she cried unconsolably for much of the day, but to no avail. The situation got so desperate that Kirk even had to change a diaper without any help, which is a clear breach of contract. We tried our television remote and various light switches just in case, but no nurses ever appeared.

This was undoubtedly an oversight on your part, which we hope can be quickly and easily rectified. Please send our nurse call button via express mail or, if this is not feasible, we can come get it ourselves. Our sanity may depend on it.

Sincerely,
Sleepless in Basel

The latest

I couldn't bring myself to wear the obnoxious shirt during delivery, but I did wear it proudly for a later visit (it's frightening how haggard I look and she hadn't even come home yet):



Yesterday she met her new friend, Quinn:



She also got her first taste of World Cup action (Germany-Argentina):



And this morning she had her first ride in her new car seat, wearing her new little cow outfit, when she finally came home!