Mexican BlackBerry Blogging

Things that suck when you still have a cold and haven't regained your voice:

--Being in an arid city at roughly 7,000 feet in altitude during the peak pollution season;

--Having people at an international meeting think you sound like a pubescent Scooby Doo (no one actually said this, of course, unless it was in Spanish and I didn't catch it, but I could tell they were thinking it);

--Having to miss the group dinner that promised to feature mariachis and tequila;

--Eating alone instead in the hotel restaurant, which is playing (loudly) gems by Barry Manilow, Neil Diamond, Johnny Mathis, Tony Bennett, etc. I swear to God, not long ago they actually played "Winter Wonderland" (artist unknown).

--Being assigned a smoking room, which I was thankfully able to change after one night.

On the plus side, the tortilla soup I just had may have been just what the doctor ordered...

Four years later

I can't remember the exact date, but it was sometime near the end of February 2004 that I last worked at a real (income-earning) job. My life has changed in so many ways over the last four years that I can hardly even remember what it was like to get up to an alarm every morning, get dressed "professionally" and be out of the house for 10 hours everyday, the bulk of which was spent sitting at a desk (or in traffic).

Four years ago, when I left my job to move to Switzerland with Kirk, I repeatedly had to answer the question: "But what will you do all day?" I still can't believe that anyone would find it hard to fill the days, especially when moving to a new country. I, for one, was happy (thrilled, actually) to be given a chance to leave the rat race of political Washington and start a new life as an expat. The days over the past four years have passed so quickly, and by leaving my old job I've had the chance to try lots of new "jobs", none of which have provided income, but all of which have been incredibly rewarding.

During my time in Basel, my most important job was being a Hausfrau. I spent my days as a wife who cooked and cleaned and managed the house. It may sounds a bit old-fashioned, but I loved it! Of course I had lots of time (and freedom) to do whatever I wanted to do with my days as well, and that was a luxury that I never took for granted, especially knowing I'll likely never have that freedom again. I also loved being a tour guide to any visitors who came our way, and I was always glad to be Kirk's travel companion. Not having a job gave me the freedom to accompany him on any of his business trips (which were numerous during our time in Basel).

There was one very unexpected job I took on over the past four years, and that was as caretaker and nurse. Just before moving to Switzlerland, my Mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Not an easy time to be out of the country, as you can imagine. But again, the freedom of not having a job offered me an amazing opportunity. I spent the last three months of my Mom's life back in Wisconsin as her full-time caretaker and nurse-- an opportunity I truly feel blessed to have had.

Here I am, four years later, and I have finally discovered the most important job of all. I'm a stay-at-home Mom. I hadn't necessarily planned at being a SAHM (did you know there was an acronym for this job?). It just happened. I wasn't working when Baby was born, so I didn't even have to face the "to work or not to work" decision. After having this job for the past 20 months, I can tell you that it is the most rewarding, yet challenging, job I will ever have. It is also the most undervalued and underpaid job. There are no coffee breaks. There's no vacation time. There's no sick time. I'm on call 24-7. I can never just walk away from my desk to get a breath of fresh air.

But I love it!

Sometimes it's hard to be living on just one income. We are definitely making a financial sacrifice. We're by no means suffering, but in this wealth-abundant, competitive community of Washington, DC, I do have to work hard to remind myself to stay grounded. There is money all around me and so many people (many of my friends included) now live in "McMansions" (newly built homes that are so oversized and tall that they don't even fit onto the tiny lots in this city). I try not to let it get to me. This is a choice we've made and I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's all about trade-offs, isn't it?

I never have to get up to an alarm (only a baby crying for "Mama"), and if Baby wants to lounge with me in her glider chair and read books for an hour before we start the day, we can do it. We don't ever have to rush out of the house in the morning to get to daycare. To some extent, we have complete freedom to do whatever we want with our days. I set up playdates, I take Baby to music class and tumbling class, we go to the library, we go for walks, whatever we want. And best of all, I get to be with our daughter ALL DAY LONG! I never miss a thing. I've been there for every milestone (so far). I'm probably the only one who understands Baby's language (most of the time) and I can read her moods better than anyone.

Don't get me wrong, it is tiring. When my days get long and when I have frustrating moments, I try to remember that there are so many parents out there who would give anything to be able to make a choice to stay home with their kids. I've got that opportunity.

No income, no breaks, no vacation time, but still the best job in the world!

Suffer the Children

I have to admit that one of the things about having a child that I was not looking forward to was their propensity to bring fun new illnesses into the house. We've actually been quite lucky in that regard. Maybe it's because she isn't in day care with other sick kids, maybe it's because she was breast-fed for much of her first year, maybe it's compensation for her terrible eczema and teething, maybe it's just simple luck--but, knock on wood, Mädchen has been an exceptionally healthy child.

Last weekend, however, she came down with a bad cold when we were in New York. The beauty of having a small child with a cold is that while you want to cuddle with them and do anything you can to help them feel better, they haven't figured out the whole cover-your-mouth thing, so you end up with a steady dose of wet coughs and sneezes right in your face.

You can probably imagine where this is going. Last Wednesday I was at work and started to feel a tell-tale tickle in my throat. By that night it hurt so bad I could barely sleep. Now, a week later, I still have a sore throat, have completely lost my voice, am coughing up copious amounts of God-knows-what (which Gretchen finds incredibly attractive, especially when combined with my croaking voice...I make Yoda sound sexy by comparison), and have had to miss a day-and-a-half of work (which I rarely do). I finally broke down and went to the doctor yesterday, and she said it's just a really bad cold, and that this season's colds seem to be worse than usual (when I said I usually don't have a cold for this long, she said she's been seeing people feeling sick for two weeks--great!). The best thing is, tomorrow afternoon I have to board a plane (always fun when your sinuses feel like someone has rammed two fistfuls of cotton balls up your nostrils) for a couple of days of meetings in Mexico City--hopefully by then I'll get my voice back.

In retrospect, I can't believe what a trooper Mädchen was with us dragging her around Manhattan if she was feeling like this. I should probably also count my blessings that it's only a bad cold and not the flu that's going around. And Gretchen has been spared so far, although she had a bad cold a few weeks ago ('tis the season, evidently). So thank you, Mädchen, for the gift that just keeps on giving--and let's keep working on covering your mouth for the next time around...

Hail to the Chief?

Since Mädchen was born overseas, I've been under the impression that under Article II of the U.S. Constitution she could never be President (not that I would ever wish being President on her since I can't imagine a worse job, but still I'd hate to see a door already closed to her on the basis of her birth):

"No Person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States, at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the Office of President..."

This was in the news a few years ago when supporters of Arnold Schwarzenegger got it in their heads to amend the Constitution to allow him to someday run for President.

Well, as it turns out, there is reason to believe that a child born overseas to U.S. parents can be considered a "natural born Citizen", and therefore still someday be President, as evidenced by John McCain being born to U.S. citizens in Panama. And for the record, Mädchen doesn't have dual citizenship...you don't even have that option if you're not Swiss citizens yourself and your baby is born there. I sort of wish she at least had the option in case she ever wanted to get a job in Europe--but then again, since she's only 20 months old it's probably a bit soon to be thinking about her future employment opportunities...

Every rose has its thorns

As good as the weekend was in most ways (good food, visits with friends, successful shopping, walking the streets, etc.), there was just one major bummer (other than Mädchen having a cold that made her occasionally cranky): my brother and his family were all down with the flu (which has been rampant this season), so we didn't get to see them at all. As bummed as we were (it was one of the main reasons we went up there), when you only live 4-5 hours away it's not as big a deal as living across the Atlantic. And I'll say this--based on how folks have been feeling, if not seeing them ends up keeping us reasonably healthy, it will have been well worth it!

Metropolitan Mädchen

As expected, Mädchen's schedule dictated that we didn't get to see and do many of the things we typically would have in the past. Instead, we got to see the city from her perspective.

She went to Times Square (and really didn't seem terribly impressed):



She loved riding on the subway (and standing on the platform and saying "bye-bye" to trains on other tracks as they pulled away):



She also loved riding in taxis (at least until we got caught in a sudden downpour and dove into a taxi, with the only problem being that Gretchen forgot that Mädchen was on her backpack and accidentally smacked her forehead into the door frame, leaving a nice little goose-egg, so that after that any time we would say "taxi" after that she would reflexively touch her head):



One of her most exciting moments was hanging out in a shoe store and running back and forth between the various floor-level mirrors to look at herself:



And the other highlight was the Central Park Zoo, where she made a new friend:



But more than anything, she didn't seem to care about looking at most of the animals...she just wanted to walk as purposefully as possible, anywhere she could:



Overall, she seemed to have a good impression of New York, and we don't think she'll object if we take her back (although to be perfectly honest, it would be a lot more fun if we could go back without her).

Typical

On the drive up to New York, Gretchen and I both had a moment that perfectly summed up elements of who we are:

ME: On the drive up, we stopped for lunch and were putting Mädchen back in her seat when I noticed a book had fallen onto the ground when we opened the door on her side. For some reason I decided I could multi-task and simultaneously pick up the book while opening my door. Needless to say, just before my hand reached the book, the corner of the door smacked into my forehead hard enough to rattle my teeth and make my eyes water. Gretchen looked concerned for a second as I staggered around the parking lot gripping my head in my hands, but once she saw I wasn't bleeding and didn't appear concussed, she laughed hysterically. You'd think I'd get some sympathy in that situation, but she's so used to my clumsiness that she's long past that.

GRETCHEN: I like to be reasonably prepared when I travel, so as we were getting ready to start our drive I handed Gretchen directions for our drive. I didn't really care about getting to New York since I've done it plenty of times, but I wanted to make sure I knew where to go once we got into the city. She muttered something about not wanting them under her feet the whole drive and put them in the back seat. Which was fine, until we got a few miles from the exit for the Lincoln Tunnel and I asked if she had the directions. Yes, she assured me, they should be easy to find. Next thing you know, she's got her seat belt off and is tearing through every bag in the car desperately trying to find the directions (while I stewed quietly in the drivers seat), before finally locating them in the glove compartment. I'll readily admit that winging it has its purpose, but not when driving into Manhattan on the Friday afternoon of a holiday weekend.

SO Not Swiss

While wandering the city, Gretchen suggested New York was the anti-Basel...I'd still go with a place like Bangkok or Cairo (even more pollution and chaos than New York), but I definitely take her point. After all, in Basel we were unlikely to ever:

--Encounter people from basically every continent except Antarctica in a typical city block;

--Have our afternoon nap interrupted by a random Lunar New Year parade of drums downstairs;

--Be kept awake by construction and honking horns at 2:00am;

--Hear a certain word (that begins with the letter "f") used as a noun, adjective and verb, sometimes in the same sentence;

--See masses of foreign tourists on shopping sprees because of the low prices (don't let the unwelcome feeling you get upon arrival in immigration fool you...we're more than happy to have the many European tourists we saw this weekend taking advantage of the weak dollar and keeping our economy on life support);

--Be able to get just about any food imaginable delivered to our door within an hour; or

--Take taxis as an occasional alternative to public transportation without breaking the bank.

You know it's going to be a good weekend when...

...you're able to bring your new laptop along to New York...

...because the hotel has free WiFi access...

...and quickly research the Korean restaurant down the street and find out it has some good reviews...

...so you drop by and find that not only are most of the diners Korean (always a good sign), but they're also very patient when a restless Mädchen decides she needs to run sprints back and forth in the restaurant...

...and you end up having an excellent dinner there...



...and after putting Mädchen to bed, you're able to watch Juno on pay-per-view.

Baby?

You know, we keep calling her Baby but since she's almost 20 months old I'm not sure she really qualifies as one any more. So we need something else to call her...I think I might try Mädchen (German for "girl") for a while, at least until I get tired of having to make an umlaut every time. OK, time to jump in the car for the long drive to NYC...

New York, New York

It's been much too long (early 2005!) since we've been back to one of our favorite cities, New York. Since this is a long weekend, we've decided to brave a trip with Baby to the Big City to visit family and friends, eat, shop, visit old favorite neighborhoods and Central Park, enjoy the energy of the city...or at least try to do as much or as little as Baby will let us. Long gone are the days of walking around all day and going out for a late dinner and drinks...and that's OK.

Speaking of voting...

...I'm not sure how much you can really extrapolate from this, but when I voted at 5:00pm tonight, I was the 593rd voter in the Democratic primary at our polling site, while only 145 had voted in the Republican primary. (And it looks like Obama is projected to win the D primary, while the R primary is still too close to call.)

Future voter

Guess who got a sticker for going to vote with Mommy today?

Fave Five

While having thoughts of music, I'm reminded that The Big Finn recently pondered the question of which five artists'/groups' catalogs you would want to have with you if you were stranded on a desert island (with the caveat that they had to have at least seven albums). This got me thinking about whether or not I could come up with my five, and with great difficulty I think I did it...although the list would probably change from day-to-day or hour-to-hour depending on my mood. Anyway, I think I would go with (in no particular order):

-- Alison Krauss: Kind of wussy, I know, but the fact of the matter is her voice is stunning, plus this song was the first dance at our wedding and we have great memories from a few concerts, so there's major sentimental appeal...and the occasional bluegrass jam would be good fun.

-- The Beatles: I'd have to have just a little classic rock (although it's actually sort of frightening that music I listened to in high school in the '80s is now considered in some corners to be classic rock). The Beach Boys (my SoCal roots, plus Pet Sounds is a classic), The Who (for some reason I was always more into them than, say, Led Zeppelin) , and even Van Morrison (I only actually have a couple of his albums, but he's made so much freakin' music that it would probably never really get old) were also under heavy consideration, but in the end I had to go with the Fab Four. Wait, now that I'm typing I'm wondering if I should go back to the Beach Boys?...

-- Lyle Lovett: No particular reason; he's just one of my favorite singer/songwriters. Plus, if I was on a desert island and grew my hair out, it would probably look like his used to. Ben Folds fits the singer/songwriter category too, but I'm not sure whether or not he's got seven albums...besides, I think I'd still take Lyle anyway.

-- U2: They've pretty much been around since I was in high school ("The Joshua Tree" album when I was in college has particularly strong memories) and their music still hasn't gotten old. R.E.M. got some consideration here, although I really haven't been into their new music for quite awhile. Crowded House, too.

-- Yo-Yo Ma: If I were really stuck on a desert island, I'd probably need something to calm me down. This should do the trick. Besides, I'm not enough of a classical music aficionado to pick anyone else.

But I'll probably change my mind about those choices by tomorrow morning.

Who almost made the cut?

--Bruce Springsteen: Actually, I'm not quite sure how he didn't make the list--I guess because I haven't been as into the more recent stuff.

--Hem: A current huge favorite, but they only have a few albums. You should listen to them. Really. Now.

--Athlete: Another recent favorite with only a few albums.

--Cowboy Junkies: I loved their first few albums (especially The Trinity Session, which might make my top 5 albums), but then their music got a little weird.

--Radiohead: If I were cool I might have picked them, but while I like "OK Computer" and "Creep", the fact is I don't know the rest of their stuff very well...and I'm also just not cool.

--Talking Heads, Pink Floyd, Peter Gabriel, Los Lobos, Barenaked Ladies (yes, seriously), Mary Chapin Carpenter...all close, but no cigar.

I'm probably forgetting something, but I'm about to run down the battery on the new laptop so I'd best call it quits there...

Rocker Chick

Baby seems to be into music, whether it's watching the Wiggles or Jack's Big Music Show, playing around on the piano at friends' houses, going to music class, listening to Laurie Berkner or Jack Johnson, banging things together, you name it. Clearly, she gets this from her mother...while I love listening to music, my musical aptitude at 41 isn't really that much better than Baby's at 19 months. Well, it turns out she may have another musical gift from her mother as well: rocking out. While Gretchen's tastes now run more toward Euro/techno/pop/dance music if she's looking for some energy, deep down inside is still the Midwestern high school girl with huge bangs who loved rocking out to bad '80s hair-band music (Motley Crue, Poison, Def Leppard, you name it).

Yesterday I happened to be the one rocking out (while assembling a shelving unit), and Baby was sitting at the table eating her lunch when The Who's "Baba O'Riley"--one of the all-time great air guitar songs--came on. Next thing you know, Baby is playing her air guitar while we're playing air drums and keyboards (I'm sure the neighbors had a field day if they could see in our house). She asked us for more, but when we played it again she wasn't into it. No problem--we skipped to the next song, The White Stripes' "Black Math", and she was right back into it. She knows how to make her parents proud! Of course it's times like that we never have the camera with us.

You go, girl!

What to do?

As if it wasn't enough to decide between a Mac and a PC, now we have to decide on this Tuesday's local presidential primary election. I think we both seem to be leaning slightly in Obama's direction, but I'm not sure either of us feel very strongly. Hmmmmm...

Change is gonna come

After thinking about it for close to a year and having nothing but trouble with our five-year-old PC, as of last night we're officially entering a new era...

Life lessons

I learned an important lesson this morning: Don't let your 19-month old daughter play with anything fragile if it's of any value to you. This is what happened to my cute little "Gretchen" mug that I bought somewhere in Germany (I can't even remember where, but I'm sure Kirk will remind me). What was I thinking?



She asks to play with it several times a day. It sits atop our desk next to the bobblehead Padre, the Buddha, and Tony Gwynn (all pictured below).



She likes to carry all 4 of them around at a time, and sometimes pretends to give the Padre and Tony a drink out of the tiny mug. Everytime I hand it to her I think to myself: why are you giving a toddler something with sentimental value that is breakable? But then I give it to her anyway (becuase I'm a sucker), and this morning she dropped it on the hardwood floor and it broke into 3 pieces. Thankfully, the other three desktop characters are not breakable so she can continue to play with them.

Time to find some superglue.

Summer in February

I often complain about summer in DC (way too hot and humid), but I certainly won't complain about the random summer days we have in the middle of winter. It's currently 70 degrees! It may not be sunny, and the rain will be here any minute, but right now it's downright pleasant outside. It was a perfect morning for Baby to take her baby out for a walk. What is it about little girls pushing baby strollers that is just so adorable?

No, it's not foggy outside, it's my phone. I've dropped it so many times that the camera lense is shattered and makes everything appear in a haze.

Year of the Rat

Last night we tried a Vietnamese restaurant we hadn't been to before in our favorite nearby Vietnamese shopping center. (And can I just say how much I love that we can get in our car and in less than 10 minutes be in a whole other world? The lack of things like that is one thing I don't miss about Switzerland.) The food was excellent, but perhaps even better was getting a flyer for a nightclub featuring what look like some top-notch upcoming events:

Great moments in husbandhood

After buying mixings for cupcakes for Gretchen's birthday and failing to notice that we had eggs to make them, I'm happy to report that we finally have 2 dozen cupcakes. Which Gretchen ended up making for herself because I kept forgetting about them. As they say, the best-laid plans of mice and men go oft awry...

Great moments in fatherhood

Baby pretty much never likes to be left alone under any circumstances, so if you try to close a door with her on the outside, she'll pound on it and wail until she pushes it open or you let her in--all the more so now that she is walking and has more leverage. Consequently, we very seldom close doors in our house any longer. Including the bathroom...and you can probably guess where I'm going with this.

Gretchen gave up any semblance of privacy ages ago, but I had managed to keep at least a smattering of dignity. Then, a few weeks ago I was in the bathroom when the door came flying open. Baby promptly pointed at my...ummm..."nether regions", if you will, while I stood there helplessly--and started laughing as if that was clearly the funniest thing she'd ever seen. Then, when I was finished taking care of business, she pointed again and said "all done!". She then found Gretchen, pointed in my general direction, said "dada", grabbed her crotch and shook it and laughed like she was ever-so-proud of herself (which reminded me of the time my then-young nephew demanded I take him to the potty, and when he finished gave an exaggerated hip wiggle and said "shake, shake, shake!", which he told me his father had taught him to do).

Yes, I know that's probably too much information. But put yourself in my shoes. Am I going to be responsible for her ending up in therapy someday?

On a more positive fatherly note, to Gretchen's chagrin I've managed to teach Baby that burping and farting is always funny, no matter the circumstances...