New post, new baby

Wow, it's been ages, right? It's been so long since I last blogged that they changed the whole posting format and everything looks weird now.  I'll figure it out, though, and if I don't then this won't post and no one will ever know of my incompetence.  Except for my husband; I tell him everything and then he tells me he loves me.

The biggest difference in my life between now and then (then being the last time I bothered to write anything here) is the Ada lady.  She is our two month old bundle of baby and sometimes she has jowls.  Yay!  The short format of her birthing story goes like this:  They decided to induce me two weeks early due to some potential problems that never surfaced, labor went quickly but hurt a lot since I went natural, and Ada was born wearing the cord like a pink bandolier and crying.  The longer version includes things like I forgot to eat lunch before arriving at the hospital, so I was super hungry for most of labor.  When I stopped being upset that they wouldn't bring me a sandwich that's when I knew things were getting serious.  It's hard to be hungry while in enormous pain.

Life is good for us.  Ada is a sweet girl, Izzy is a good big sister, and I am figuring out how to do crafty and kitcheny things, like making bread and bows.  Maybe I will try and combine the two, and make a bow out of bread?  It would probably be delicious.

Globe trotting

It is possible that I am a terrible tourist.  It is not that I am impolite or do not wish to spend money, but more that I don't really care if I see anything or not.  Mostly I am concerned about food.  We spent the weekend in Paris and the only thing we saw was Notre Dame.  It was pretty neat, but the strawberries in Paris were to die for.  So sweet, so delicious; what is America doing so wrong that our strawberries only look like they will taste good?

Right now we are in Germany.  We plan to see a couple of actual tourist things later, but for now Izzy and I have just been out walking on a little path we found near the hotel.  It leads to a grocery store, a small bakery, and a playground.  And since the weather has been damp we have also seen several large snails.  How exciting!  When we haven't been outside, Izzy has been hopping around in what she calls her "wonderful, wonderful bed!"  Every little while she will freeze suddenly and ask alarmingly, "What's that noise, Mama?" and I will say, "It's a car outside" or "It's a bird" or "It's the heater."  

Izzy has been an interesting travel companion.  She has been surviving on boiled eggs, french fries, goldfish crackers, and treats for using the potty.  We had to revert back to a bribery system since the potty on the plane was so utterly terrifying that it made going to the bathroom a horrific experience.  Every potty for the next few days was a "scary potty."  We're back on track now, but I'm not really looking forward to the return flight. 

So far I would have to say that there are two big differences between Europe and the US.  First off, back in the states everything is carpeted, even some folks' bathrooms.  The floors here are all hardwood or tile, which is okay except that Izzy is a super duper crumb machine.  After an hour or two we might as well be walking on sand.  The second big difference is space.  Things are BIG in America; you can turn around in the shower and the aisles in stores are wide enough for two grocery carts.  Stores have huge parking lots because it is expected that everyone drives, while here almost everyone walks or rides a bike.  Matt is a pretty big guy and I am pregnant, so I appreciate the roominess back home.  Izzy, on the other hand, has very short legs, so things even out. 

We only have a fish, so I guess we're not really farmers.

Most of this week has been so nice and pleasant that Izzy and I have been spending hours outside each day, working on our farmer's tans.  We have made excellent progress.  We spend most of our time in the following ways: stealing rocks from the neighbors, looking at and then running away from bugs (all of which are either "butterflies" or "spiders"), shouting "Help help!" before going down the slide, and chasing each other either with sticks or fingers ready for poking.  Basically we have the best life.

Some of our neighbors have dogs and therefore lots of dog poop.  I make sure to caution Izzy not to touch it and she has been very obedient.  Now when I help her on the potty she says to me, "Don't touch my poop, Mommy!"  Thankfully, I haven't had to for at least a month.  Boom!  Potty trained!

In my spare time I am on a city league basketball team with some other ladies from my neighborhood.  I did not play basketball in high school, or anywhere else for that matter.  We have been playing for a couple of weeks and I still barely know what I'm doing.  I always thought that basketball was supposed to be a no-contact sport but apparently I was wrong; the butt is very important and you push it at other people like crazy.  Anyway, so far I haven't made any baskets for our team, but I haven't made any for the wrong team either.  You win some, you lose some (in theory, anyway).

Goodness, it's January.

We are working on potty training these days, which basically means that Izzy and I sit in the bathroom for long periods of time singing songs and then when she's done she pees on the floor somewhere else.  Woo!  But there's been only one poop-tastrophe so far, and I guess that's good news.

In other good news, I am going to get fat this summer.  I am very much looking forward to it, especially since by the time I become decidedly rotund I will probably stop throwing up.