Who is the bigger doofus?

Nominee: Me.

Incident: Getting ticketed on I-81 by a friendly Virginia state trooper for driving 79 mph in a 65 mph zone.

Cost: Around $120, plus points on my driving record.

Mitigating factors: I'd been averaging at least 80 mph for most of the drive home, but that was mostly in a pack of cars going roughly the same speed. When we got back onto the freeway after a rest stop, it was surprisingly empty. Instead of waiting for a pack of cars to catch up, I just accelerated and was alone in the trooper's radar within 5 minutes of getting back onto the freeway.

Complication: When I was pulled over, it was within an hour of the start of my cousin's wedding out in California, which we unfortunately had to miss. Karmic payback?

* * * * *

Nominee: Gretchen.

Incident: Backing her car into a mailbox and doing substantial damage (surprisingly, to her car rather than the mailbox).

Cost: Not sure yet, but probably at least $1,000.

Mitigating factors: At the moment of impact, my Mom was commenting on the beautiful weather, so Gretchen was distracted (not an uncommon condition when she's driving).

Complication: My Mom lives on a very quiet street, where basically the only possible obstacle is the mailbox opposite her driveway. There is nothing else to watch for...and even if you hit it, you'd have to be going pretty fast to do much damage. Oops.

* * * * *

The Winner: Me.

Why? Despite the greater financial impact of Gretchen's accident, the scales were tipped in my favor by two things when we got home:

(1) We discovered that I forgot to turn the heat down in the house when we left, so it was a comfortable 70 degrees when we got home. It was nice not to come home to an icebox, but a real waste of energy to keep the heat running in our empty, drafty house for a full week.

(2) Walking downstairs this morning, I somehow slipped on one of the steps, landed squarely on my back, and slid down several more steps. Gretchen said she had never heard such a loud crash in our house (at least not since the time a few months ago when I slipped on a blanket on Baby's floor and crashed into her crib and landed on top of a basket of her toys...my klutziness truly knows no bounds). Thankfully I didn't break a leg or ankle, but my back and hip are aching, and I suspect tomorrow I'm going to wake up sore in parts of my body I didn't even know I had.

I am indeed the bigger doofus!

Christmas thoughts

Things that are good:

--Spending Christmas with your far-flung family that you unfortunately only see a couple of times a year if you're lucky, and watching the cousins learn to get along and share.



--Baby, who is as physically cautious as she is precocious, decided to finally start walking (many, many months after her friends of the same age) a few days before arriving and is now wobbling all over the place.



--Baby adores her Grandma (or "Ama", as she calls her), so we might actually be able to go out on a date while we're here.



--Speaking of Grandma, she ordered a standing rib roast for Gretchen to cook for our Christmas Eve dinner. For some reason she told the butcher we would have eight people even though we only had five, so we got one of the largest hunks of meat (around 14 pounds) I've ever seen. Gretchen did an expert job of cooking it, but we may be FedEx-ing slabs of beef to friends in the coming days...



--Getting a package in the mail from Grandpa Tom out in Southern California right before leaving, which included a (loudly) talking Elmo that is sure to keep Baby wildly entertained and drive us to drink.



--After not having eaten any German-influenced food since returning from Switzerland, finding a decent German restaurant, which was a welcome alternative to the plethora of fast-food options for lunch, off of I-81 in the middle of nowhere on the drive down.



--Baby was really a trooper on the long drive.

Things that are less good:

--Driving nine hours to Asheville, NC. Under normal circumstances the drive isn't so bad aside from the length, and can actually be somewhat scenic because so much of it is in the mountains and the Shenandoah Valley. On a busy holiday weekend, however, I-81 was choked with fellow holiday-goers. More importantly, it was packed with 18-wheelers trying to weave in and out of the traffic and pass each other. We only hit a little bit of actual stop-and-go traffic, but there was a lot of intense bumper-to-bumper jockeying for position at high speeds, trying to avoid the trucks, passing on the right because some drivers think it's their God-given right to drive in the left lane no matter how slow they might be driving. By the time we arrived I was physically and mentally exhausted.

--Buying a portable DVD player to attach to the headrest for Baby to watch The Wiggles on the long drive (Baby's love of The Wiggles deserves its own post at some point), only to wait and open the box the morning of the drive (despite Gretchen's numerous requests that I do it earlier in the week) and discover it needs 4-5 hours of charging before use. Oh well, at least it should work on the way home.

--Going to the car to get the camera and some milk for Baby while at the aforementioned German restaurant, picking up my backpack, and watching helplessly as a container of Christmas cookies Gretchen had packed (precariously, I might add) slide out of the car and all over the parking lot.



--Dreading the long drive back.

Merry Christmas from North Carolina

Merry Christmas, belated Happy Hanukkah or Eid or whatever you might celebrate this holiday season...

At long last

It's no secret that one of the things Kirk and I miss the most about living in Europe is GOOD BREAD. We just got so used to eating good bread all the time. Kirk's favorite was Pagnolbrot from Coop (and of course his weekend Zopf), and I loved anything that was nutty, crunchy, and/or seedy (which meant I usually had to share a loaf with a friend considering I could never finish it all before it went bad 2 days later). I'm constantly on the lookout for good bread here. Wherever I go, I look for bakeries or gourmet shops that may sell fresh bread. I've found some pretty good options, but we're never totally satisfied, even with what I buy at the local German bakery. I guess we've become bread snobs!

At long last, I may have found the closest to perfect baguette, sold at a little French cafe that Baby and I visited for the first time this morning. We had a few errands to run, including picking up a bottle of our favorite olive oil at a local wine (and gourmet) shop. When I first visited this wine store a few months ago I was thrilled with their cheese selection, and thrilled to discover that they also sell serrano ham which we love. Both go perfectly with the long-sought-after baguette and olive oil. YUM. This wine shop is in the same shopping center (too cute and little to be called a strip mall) as a couple nice kids stores, which makes it a great outing for Baby as well. I love how so many book stores (including Barnes and Nobles type stores) have a whole kids play area with train sets and doll houses. I can get my shopping done and Baby thinks she's at a playdate!

Anyway, after picking up the olive oil, having Baby's feet measured at the kids shoe store, and playing at the book store for a while, we decided to stop at Cafe Parisien (in the same shopping center) for a snack. Why have we never been to this place before? It truly feels like a little European cafe, minus the cigarette smoke. I love it. I ordered crepes for me and a chunk of baguette for Baby. Unfortunately, the crepes didn't quite compare to what we used to get in France (or even to those at the Basel Weihnachtsmarkt), but the baguette was delicious! I had to go back for more because Baby and I ate all of what I ordered. It totally brought back memories of eating a fresh baguette as walked through the streets of some cute little French town on our anniversary trip to Burgundy two years ago.

As a side note, have we ever mentioned how much Baby loves bread? We often say it's obvious that she was born in Europe... she can never get enough carbs.

I'm going out for a girls' night out tonight, but I brought a baguette home for Kirk to have for dinner. Stay tuned for his report. I suspect most of it (if not all of it) will be gone by the time I get home. That boy likes his bread!

Happy birthday, you old man!

What can I say, I'm married to an old man. He's officially "over the hill" today. You can figure out how old that is, I suppose he doesn't really want me to write it down. I guess he's like a fine wine-- only getting better with age! Last night I told him about his birthday surprise. I'm terrible about keeping secrets and couldn't hold it in any longer. I'm taking him out to dinner!

I know, you're thinking that's no big deal. But for us, it is a big deal! This will be our first real date in 17 months. You do the math... Baby is 17 months old... so that means Kirk and I haven't been out on a date since before she was born. It's so pathetic, I know. I've tried not to let it get to me. We always loved going out to eat and I NEVER would have wanted it to be this way, that we'd be one of those couples who never go out anymore after their baby is born. But we never could have predicted the circumstances our daughter would present... never taking a bottle, total boob dependency for many months, being a totally unpredictable (and unreliable) sleeper who could never be soothed by anything or anyone other than Mom... all of this means we've never had a babysitter. Until now. Tonight, after Baby is sleeping, a friend will come over and stay with her for a couple hours. I am SO grateful to this friend! Now I can take my very deserving husband out for a nice dinner to celebrate his birthday!

Happy birthday, Kirk! I love you!

This ain't no Duncan Hines

For some reason, Kirk doesn't generally like cake. I, on the other hand, love all forms of cake. In anticipation of his upcoming birthday, I really wanted to make him a birthday cake this past weekend. We had a group of friends over on Sunday to celebrate several birthdays (there are 4 December birthdays in this group) so I figured that was the perfect time to try out a new recipe. When I asked Kirk last week if there was any kind of cake he would eat (other than his favorite pumpkin pie which doesn't count as a cake), his response was something like: "The kind I would like would probably be too complicated to make". That's because I usually make cakes that come in a box, like Duncan Hines or Betty Crocker. But for him, I would be willing to make a real cake. A cake from scratch.

He suggested some kind of chocolate cake that had raspberries layered inside. So I searched "chocolate cake" and "raspberries" on Epicurious (my favorite recipe site). And I found a real gem. I was a little nervous because I'd only made a cake from scratch one other time-- a red velvet cake for my Mom's 70th birthday a few years ago. Although it may have been more complicated (and time consuming) than the dinner I prepared for 11 people plus 8 kids, it actually turned out! Everyone (including Kirk) said it was delicious, and I'm pretty sure they weren't just saying that.

Just a few examples

I just had to follow-up to my post yesterday about the unsolicited eczema advice I get from strangers. This morning, while shopping at Ann Taylor Loft, the sales woman suggested I give Baby an oatmeal bath and moisturize her skin with shea butter. Good advice, yes. Unsolicited, yes. Worth a try, no. We're way beyond oatmeal baths and shea butter.

A short time later, while playing in the kids section at Barnes and Noble, a woman (another customer) offered the strangest advice I've heard yet. Apply a bit of Pepto Bismol to all affected areas of Baby's tender little skin. Pepto Bismol?

Perhaps worth a bit more exploration was her other advice. Neem. She talked of the Neem trees that grow in her native Pakistan and their healing ability. She said I could buy soaps and lotions made with Neem at local Indian stores. I just googled "Neem" and "eczema" and discovered that lots of people suggest this method. I'm not inherently opposed to herbal remedies, and I think my time in Switzerand opened my eyes to their value (gotta love the Fenchel Tee for Baby's sensitive tummy), so maybe I should look into this Neem stuff.

Why is it...

...that Baby wakes up with beautiful, non-eczema looking skin the day she has an appointment with her allergist? I've literally been losing my mind over the last couple months (since our last appointment) trying to fight the ongoing losing battle with her skin, and then today she wakes and it's almost clear (it's all relative, of course). The doctor tried to reassure me and tell me that he doesn't think I'm a "paranoid Mom", as he has seen her skin when it's bad, but it's still frustrating because I want him to see her when she's truly having a flare-up.

I haven't written much on this blog about her eczema. I expend enough energy trying to manage it every day, and the last thing I want to do is expend more time/thought/energy on it during her nap time. Suffice it to say that it is BAD. This is not your run-of-the-mill eczema with a few dry patches of skin here and there. This is bright red, ripped up (from scratching), scaly, sometimes bloody, "old man hands" skin. My poor baby. I've never seen anything like it. Any skin that is exposed is vulnerable. That's why her hands and wrists are the worst. When she's in the car she pulls up her pant legs and scratches her legs and ankles. And lately her "favorite" spot is the back of her neck.

We've had her tested for food allergies, but that's not the problem. Her case is one of those cases that's just bad eczema. There's not much we can do other than manage it. We keep her covered from head to toe-- as much as possible. She uses only Dove soap in the bath. Sometimes we use Dial antibacterial to fight the infections. We use a steroid cream, and a topical antibiotic cream, and tons and tons of moisturizers. Not your average moisturizers, but a brand that I have to order online and pay lots of money for. Of course I would pay any sum of money if there were a magic cure that would stop her from feeling so itchy. On top of all of that, she takes benedryl many nights just to help her sleep and to stop her from scratching in her sleep.

Quite possibly one of my favorite things about having a baby with eczema is all the unsolicited advice I encounter from random people on the street. Because it's so obvious that something is wrong, people often feel the need to comment. Actually, this was more often the case in Basel where people always love to offer unsolicited advice on every topic! The other day a little kid at the gym said to me: "Her hands are all red and puffy, did you know that?" That was actually kind of cute because it was coming from another kid, but it's the adults that get me. I know, I know, it's more than likely coming out of care and concern rather than ill-will, but I just get tired of answering the questions and feeling the need to respond with a polite "thanks, but no thanks" to their suggestions.

What's the most frequently heard suggestion (and also the most annoying)? "Have you tried switching to fragrance-free laundry detergent?" ARE YOU KIDDING ME? My baby's skin is red, puffy, and bloody, but no, I hadn't thought about trying that-- thanks so much for the advice! Please, give me some credit here.

Well, now I've written my "I hate eczema" post...

Ho, ho, ho

With Christmas quickly approaching, I've been working hard at teaching Baby all about Santa. Whenever we see a picture of Santa in a book, or on her stocking, or wherever else he may be at this busy time of year, I say: "Ho, ho, ho... Merry Christmas!" in my best Santa voice. So you can imagine my surprise when we had this conversation the other day:

Me: "(Baby), what does Santa say?"
Baby: "Vroom, vroom", while making hand motions that look like she's riding a motorcycle.

HUH?!

One of our neighbors has these enormous, dare I say obnoxious, house-size, seasonal balloon characters that sit in their lawn throughout the year. Gone are the pumpkin and the ghost, and now it's Santa and a snowman. Unlike the real Santa who rides on a sleigh with reindeer, this neighborhood Santa rides on a motorcycle! Baby loves seeing these balloons as we go out for our daily dog walk, and obviously the motorcycle-riding Santa has made quite an impression on her.

Vroom, vroom, Merry Christmas!

I love nap time!

I remember a few months back, when Baby switched from two naps a day to just one, lots of Mom friends of mine talked about how much I would love the one-nap-a-day schedule. "They'll sleep 3 hours and you'll get so much done!", they would say. Well, it's not always guaranteed that Baby will nap for anything more than an hour and a half, in which case I get nothing done. But on days like today, when she sleeps for 3 hours, I LOVE NAP TIME! I can't believe how much I get done around the house without a baby hanging off my legs or calling "Mama!" constantly from the other room. Seriously, that is my life. She's either hanging off the back of my legs or screaming for me if I leave her sight, which makes it very hard to do the dishes, or the laundry, or cook dinner, or even pee.

I remember reading a letter from a single, childless woman to some advice columnist in the Washington Post a while back wondering what stay-at-home Moms do all day. "If I didn't work", she said (I'm paraphrasing), "I'd certainly have time to pick up the dry cleaning and do the grocery shopping and do projects around the house during the day". Since then, "what I do" all day has become an ongoing joke between Kirk and I. As you would imagine, I sit around reading People magazine and watching Oprah all day. Any of you stay-at-home Moms out there know how far from the truth this is.

Oh, but I digress... I am just pleased that Baby is now feeling well enough to nap for 3 hours (I just hear her waking), considering she is recovering from strep throat (and is still on antibiotics), and last week was NOT a good sleep week. Long naps combined with my long-awaited motivation to actually unpack the final boxes and start hanging things on our walls (we've been back in the US since March, mind you) mean that this house is finally shaping up to be livable again.