I suppose it could’ve gone worse, but still, it was pretty sucky. I met the Sniglet’s class at the ice rink, along with about 600 other moms (not bad for a class of 30 kids) (okay, it was more like 12, but German suburban housewives – my peer group, basically – freak me the fuck out because they are so seethingly competent and make me feel like a schmoe at all times), and I didn’t think to bring a helmet or gloves, so he wasn’t allowed to skate. The Things To Bring list was written on a piece of paper, but I never did see that – when I asked for something written, the Sniglet said he’d lost it.
I stayed at the ice rink with him and we played word games until everyone was done. That seemed to make him feel a bit better. But all in all, it was pretty embarrassing for both of us, and really, I’d hoped to get out of here without any more of these stupid incidents.
Whew. Well, the manuscript ate my weekend, so today was all about the freelance Munich job – stuff I usually do over the weekend but not this time. That’s done. As is the grocery shopping (Italian Week at Aldi! Woooot!), recycling and gas. Tomorrow the Sniglet’s class is going ice skating, and in a moment of insanity I said I’d come along and help (he asked, I didn’t just volunteer out of the blue – I’m not completely bonkers. Yet), so tomorrow I have to go down and tie (and then later untie) thirty little pairs of ice skates, but other than that, my time is my own! To clean and cook and try to get some exercise and drive someone to soccer practice and run errands downtown and oh God the laundry, but you know. Freedom!
Song du jour of the day: Cradle and All, by Ani DiFranco
So DrBob pitched books to TWO publishers (different books – you can’t pitch the same book to two publishers at the same time, they totally hate that) and BOTH said sure, we’d like to take a look. They haven’t committed to publishing them (yet – fingers crossed!) but this is a foot in the door, yay! So I’ll be facedown in text all weekend, and then we’ll get to have a spirited discussion of some of my proposed amendments. Always fun.
This’ll be me:
Song du jour of the day: Ch-ch-changes, by David Bowie
I know this is nothing to many of you (Hi Minnesota!), but we are not used to this kind of cold here in Europe. Not anymore, anyway. -12°C on Friday, that’s about 10°F, and I, delicate Pacific flower that I am, am wondering which office to complain to. Do bear in mind that since we’re not used to it, we don’t have the proper gear. If we lived in Minnesota, we would. Continue reading
Whew. Today was Epiphany, and the Three Wise Men didn’t show up to bless our house (I think that’s a bad sign) but wonder of wonders, I got to send the kids to bed at their school-night bedtimes, yay. DrBob’s back in Utrecht, the kids’ll go to school tomorrow, and things will gradually settle back into some sort of routine. The combination of Ignatz’s birthday and Christmas and the general schedule upheaval is always hard, but this year the problem was compounded by persistent illness in the kids (which meant we had to postpone Ig’s birthday party, i.e. schedule it, clean for it, and brace for impact twice), and of course the passing of Robert’s uncle slowed us all down. I’m glad it’s over. Continue reading
Also? Man, I’m glad my kids didn’t do stuff like that.
Now this is the one where I try to conquer my baser instincts, because I’m wallowing in massive self-pity right now. The question is how, exactly, does one get over oneself? What muscle do you flex, what process is required? I have told myself, sternly, that I need to do it, but that doesn’t seem to have worked. Continue reading
… is a bit less conundrummy. Ignatz is somewhere between a child, for whom we make the decisions, and an adult who understands the situation and deserves to have some input. The Sniglet is a kid, and he’s young enough to adjust. His friendships are not the character-shaping events that they will be in six years, because he’s kind of… difficult. Very dramatic, has trouble controlling his temper, and doesn’t really understand that there are some things you just don’t say (thank you, overindulgent grandparents), so his friendships shift a lot anyway. He’ll probably make a bad start in NL, but he’ll be there long enough to recover. Basically, the sooner we move the better, for the Sniglet. So for him I wasn’t really ambivalent about the delay: from this angle, it’s all bad. Continue reading
So moving a teenager is never a nice thing to do. I mean, I moved around some as a teenager, and it wasn’t really that grueling, but that’s because I didn’t have any friends – because I moved around so much as a kid. (Okay I had one friend in junior high. She was really nice. I still owe her an email.)
Ignatz has lots of friends, and they’re actually pretty cool – my mom always liked teenagers, and I’m finding now that I do too, as long as they’re not stupid swaggering sneery thuglets or bitchy-manipulative barbies, which Ig’s friends are not. They’re cool, and leaving them will totally suck. He’s not happy about this move. Continue reading
So we talked to Mr. Schwaiger, the real-estate dude, who turns out to be another reason to love our bank. He said banks aren’t lending unless you’re a business trying to borrow a billion, which is stupid times two because that’s how this whole mess started in the first place. And he actually used the word “free-fall,” which makes me trust him. He says things should be better in spring, but we have to keep that in context – “better” doesn’t necessarily mean climbing, just not-falling-anymore. Continue reading