Starting to Settle In

A couple days ago as I drove my kids to school, I had a realization that I was assimilating into German society quite nicely. A group of rowdy high school boys ran across the street in front of me after my light had turned green and as I passed them, I stared them down, shook my head, and wagged a finger. They may have all laughed at me, but afterward, I was like, “My Germany-integration-transformation is nearly complete. Muahahaha!” 

The last month has been wunderbar! We got to travel to Frieburg, Germany where we rode in the world’s first enclosed gondola and saw some beautiful, snowy views of the mountains. We visited Strausbourg France that has a gorgeous cathedral and an island in the middle of the city where beautiful buildings line the canal.  Mike’s parents visited a few weeks ago and we enjoyed a nice visit with them, including taking them on a trip to Heidelburg Castle way up on the hill overlooking the city. It was so neat being able to take a guided tour through the ancient corridors and hallways.  A few weeks ago, I saw a picture of a gorgeous castle on Facebook. I looked it up and it turns out it was only 36 miles away from us, WHAT? So we went there this weekend and walked around the grounds. We’ve also been taking the kids to various parks and little trips around town. It’s been really fun!

Mike has of course been continually traveling for work including to Bahrain, Senegal, Spain, Romania –the list goes on and on (he gets to travel everywhere and sees some pretty amazing stuff!) He’s made it his life mission to bring me chocolate from every European country and beyond. Whenever he brings it home, I’m like, “Will you quit bringing me so much chocolate? I can’t eat all of this!” And then when it’s gone in week, I’m like, “Go bring me some more chocolate stat!” So that’s been fun. 

I’m so grateful I’ve been able to hold the fort down while he’s been gone. Can I just say? I never thought I would willingly take a job where Mike would travel all the time. Never, ever. My entire married life, I’ve sworn against it, saying I simply did not ever want to live that way, I could not do it, I would hate it, etc. etc. Well, then this job came around. I cried when I heard about it because I knew it was an amazing opportunity that we'd be foolish to pass up and I knew Mike would be gone all the time, and especially, I knew that it was time for me to face my dread of him being gone all the time. It took so much faith for me to accept such a job. At the time, I was completely unaware of what country we’d end up living in and I was so unsure of how much support I’d have, and how having the baby would be, and just how everything would turn out. I was extremely anxious at the thought of being left alone in an unknown country for a big portion of the time, with a new baby + three kids. There were so many unknowns and so, so many worries. 

Well, now here we are in Germany. My worst fear of Mike being gone all the time has come to pass.  I’m doing what I thought I never could, all the time. And honestly, it’s not nearly as gloomy as I thought it would be. That's a miracle to me. I’m not saying it’s easy, because it’s not, but God has helped me in so many ways. Asking for help has been key.  I believe it's so important to ask for help when you need it. In my case, I’ve been hiring a couple teenage girls from my church to help me on the nights Mike is gone. It's the best and so helpful! I’ve also got some wonderful friends to hang out with when I’m feeling lonely. And of course, I've got the chocolate stash, too.

For the most part, things have panned out really well, and every one of my worry-filled questions has been answered. We still have some interesting trials we are trying to navigate through, but I am learning to rely on God probably more than ever before and He has been with me every step of the way.  I honestly couldn’t have made this move without His assurance, guidance, and peace. And He continues to help us learn some amazing lessons. 

Now for a couple funny stories that could only happen here:

Story #1: The Wrong Freiburg

Once upon a time in Germany, we wanted to join our congregation on a “temple trip” they were taking. (FYI: a temple is a place for church members to worship God and review gospel teachings – so like church but extra special and reverent).  So anyway, we were way excited because it had been almost a year since we’d been able to go (we haven’t lived “close” to a temple in about 3 years).

So Mike looked it up and got the hotels all booked and we were good to go. After driving 3 hours, we stayed the night in the hotel. In the morning, Mike started getting ready-he was going to go to the temple first while I watched the kids, then I was going to go. Well, he starts looking up some stuff online and was like, “Um, Debbie? We have a problem.” 

“WHAT.”

“We went to the wrong Freiburg.”

“There’s TWO Freiburgs??”

“I guess so.”

“UGH.”

“Well, at least we can have a fun vacation this weekend.” 

THE END. 

Story #2: Trapped in the Parking Garage

Once upon a time in Germany, our son had a doctor appointment downtown. I plugged the address into the van’s GPS and headed over with said son and my baby. As I was nearing my destination, I spotted a parking garage on the same street as the doctor’s address - Hooray! I drove to the entrance and pushed the button on the box thing (whatever that box thing is actually called) to open the entrance gate and a little red coin popped out (This was the first time I’d ever seen said coin – usually it’s a ticket). Upon parking, I picked up my baby in her car seat, and corralled my son to the nearest exit. The exit ended up being a locked door. I scanned the large parking lot for any other exits. Clear on the opposite side- which was in the opposite direction of the street where the doctor’s office was- were some elevators. 

We got to the elevators, went down, and popped out into some sort of shopping square that looked nothing like the street where the doctor’s office was. It started to snow so we took cover under a business sign. I took out my phone to use google maps, entered the address, and yelled at my son to “get back here!” as he continually tried to wander away. 

With google maps leading the way, we wandered through a few stores and found our way back to the doctor street. Whew! After the appointment and before returning to the van, I asked the secretary at the desk about the red coin. She said, “there’s a box that you put the coin in to pay.”  I kind of already figured that, but I never saw a box in the parking garage. 

Anyway, after making it back to the parking garage carrying that heavy car seat and coaxing my son along, I still didn’t see any box anywhere. I had looked along the way, I had looked all over the garage, and I had looked by the elevators. Nothing, nothing, nothing! Meanwhile, the baby was crying and I discovered that I hadn’t brought a diaper for her, because that’s what I do – I forget crap all the time. So my stress level was rising and I’m like “How do I get out of here!” So instead of dragging everyone anywhere else, I thought I’d risk it and see if I could just pay at the exit gate. (We learned from previous experiences NEVER to pay at the exit gate, but I was desperate). 

So I drove down the narrow, windy little road to the exit gate. I unrolled my window and studied the box. I looked and looked and looked some more. But there was no place I could see to put the red coin. Only a place to put a ticket. Gah! So before anyone showed up behind me, I backed my van up the windy road part-way and parked it in some sort of service vehicle space. Nearby were some glass doors. Inside I saw more ticket booths – eureka! So leaving my kids in the locked car, I dashed inside, looked over the ticket booth, still perplexed as to where to put this blasted red coin. So I asked the first man I saw: “Sprechan Sie Englisch?” and he showed me the slot where it went, which had been invisible to me the moment before. 

I quickly inserted the coin, paid the fee, grabbed the ticket, ran back outside to my crying kids, backed up, inserted, the ticket, exited out the raised gate, and got the heck out of there!

THE END.  

Story #3: Wrong turn with a Random Consulate Employee in the Creepy Consulate Basement

Once upon a time in Germany, it was my very first day of German Language Class at the consulate. Hooray! I had arrived early and was waiting in the classroom with my baby sleeping peacefully in her car seat.  A few minutes later, a man appeared and told me my class was actually in a different location. He told me to go up the stairs, to the end of the hall, down another set of stairs, to the basement. 

I went up the stairs, to the end of the hall and saw several staircases. I picked one, but it didn’t go to the basement. So I went back up and tried another one with the same result. So I went back up and popped my head into an office. “Can you tell me where room DB 13 is? My German language class is there.  I know it’s in the basement but I can’t find the staircase.” A woman behind a desk told me, “it’s in a dreary place that’s hard to find” and assigned another guy in the room to walk me there. She explained that it was past the consular section down some stairs. He looked very uncertain, as if he’d tried finding basement rooms in the consulate before, and it had never gone well. However, the man was really kind and agreed. Seeing how heavy the car seat I was carrying appeared, he also offered to carry it for me. I accepted gratefully and followed him.  

First, we turned a few corners and went down a few hallways. Then we went down an elevator. Then we met a locked door that required a special security code, which neither of us had (He was looking more and more doubtful of where we were headed by the second).  Next, he called the phone into the secure room and got someone to open the door. “We’re looking for DB 13?” He said. We were escorted through the room to another door on the other side. Through there was a hallway that said “D wing.” There were plenty of doors in the hallway but none of them DB 13. There was, however, a staircase leading down. 

At this point, the man was sweating slightly and breathing heavily. He was also starting to say a few German curse words under his breath. “You’d think it would be easier to find,” he said. I offered to give him a break for a second (that car seat really is a pain to carry around), but with a smile, he insisted he was fine.  “How about you go check if it’s down there,” he said laughing. 

Yes, “good idea,” I agreed. 

I ran down the stairs and through a door. It opened into a dark and dingy basement hallway. There were doors and rooms but the whole place was empty and dark (P.S. I could see why the consulate hairdresser told me the basement was haunted) At the end of the hallway was yet another door, but I didn’t dare venture too far away. Instead I ran back upstairs to give the man the report. We decided it was worth a try to see what was through the door. So back downstairs we went, through the dark hallway, to the mysterious door. That’s when things got a little crazy. 

Through the door, we were met with a dark room filled with low-hanging air vents. There were also doors. We read aloud their numbers as we passed them, “DB 10…DB 11…DB 12!” But then there were no more doors.  Gah! There had to be a DB 13 somewhere around here! So we were like “Maybe past all these air vents, it’ll connect to the right hallway?” 

So here we are. I’m following this poor random guy who got selected to escort me to the most impossible room to find in the consulate basement. We are both crouched in half now, inching our way underneath these crazy air vents. The guy is still holding my sleeping baby through this dark, creepy dungeon. Meanwhile, I’m following him laughing my head off and repeating, “WHAT is happening.” We reached the other end which turned out to be more pipes and air vents…and more German swear words.  By the way, I kept wondering, “Are we even supposed to be here??” 

So then, we both crouched back through the vent cave. Now both of us were laughing.  When we came out the other side, I was thinking, “this would make a fun blog story” so I was like, “Okay, I’m going to take a picture of this, because this is just too hilarious.”

And the guy was like, “Okay, have your baby be in the picture.”

And I was like, “Okay.”

And we just kept laughing because it was all so random and not what either of us bargained for when the lady behind the desk was like, “It’s in a dreary place that’s hard to find.”

So anyway, after that, we went back up the stairs, and found someone else to ask. Thankfully she agreed to escort us to the right room. I told the man that he was off the hook and I could take it from here, but he said, “no way, now I NEED to know where that room is.” 

So we turned down more hallways, went down more staircases, and even though I was about 15 minutes late to class, at least I had finally found DB 13. I thanked the man for his help, to which he replied, “I think I’ll take the rest of the day off.”

THE END.

The worst of times, and then the best of times...I think I'm seeing a theme

Time has been going by crazy fast. I can’t believe it’s already been over a month since my last post. I kept thinking I should write another update, but didn’t really know where to begin, so I continued putting it off. Finally today, I decided to just write whatever I have time for and see what comes out.

So I guess I’ll start with what happened after my mom went back home and Mike started going back to work. That magical phase of having post-baby help was sadly coming to an end. My mom had helped me so much around the house and with the kids. I had many friends help with meals. Mike had used all his leave to stay home with me after my mom left. It had all been wonderful! But now it was time for things to go back to “normal”. Time to kick myself in gear, get organized and find a way to keep things going without help. I started taking the boys to and from school again, along with my other two in tow. I resumed laundry and dishes and meals and all the other house duties. When Mike was home, he did all he could to help me, but then he was off on another work trip and I was on my own again. 

Well, very shortly into this new routine, I woke up one morning in a lot of pain. I also had a fever and chills and knew instantly what was probably going on: My wound from the delivery had become infected.  Mike had left a few hours earlier on another work trip- one where he couldn’t be contacted for around 24 hours. Of course. 

So I got up, got the boys ready for school, and took all the kids to drop them off. The pain and aches continued to worsen, so once I got home, I called a woman from our church and asked if she could watch my kids while I went to the doctor. Even though I barely knew her, she was so gracious and came.

The doctor confirmed my infection and wrote me a prescription for antibiotics and a few other things to help. I was able to walk to a nearby pharmacy to pick them up shortly before it closed, thank goodness. 

That night, I started on the medication and went to bed feeling horrible, but hopeful tomorrow would be a better day. Mike would be coming home after all. Well, the next morning, my wound infection seemed to be getting a little better, but now I woke up with a terrible sore throat. When I looked in the mirror and opened my mouth, what I saw completely freaked me out. My tonsils were enormous and covered in a nasty layer of black and white infection.  I’m pretty sure I shouted “WHAT THE H___ IS HAPPENING TO MY BODY!” Time to go to the doctor again. 

The doctor at the consulate was concerned and sent me to the hospital. I came home, fed the baby, then took a taxi to the hospital. At the hospital, the secretary told me I needed 50 euro cash to be seen. Great. So I took a taxi home, fed the baby again, and took a taxi back to the hospital. The attending physician looked at my tonsils and told me I needed to go to a different hospital about 30 minutes away to see an ENT.  

So…I took a taxi home, fed my baby, packed her in the van and drove to this other hospital outside of town (Thankfully there was parking). At the hospital, the ENT advised me to continue taking the antibiotics I had already been on for the wound infection. She told me to give it one or two more days and if my throat wasn’t getting better, I would need to be admitted to the hospital to take IV antibiotics for a few days.

Oh man, how I prayed I wouldn’t have to do THAT. What would I do with my tiny new baby? Would she be able to come with me? Would it like my labor/delivery hospital stay? (My experience wasn’t the greatest).  Would I still be able to breastfeed with all these crazy antibiotics?  It all felt SO incredibly stressful.  The goal was just to get better so I wouldn’t have to worry about any of that.

So, I literally followed every single suggestion anyone had given me. I was taking essential oils every hour under the direction of my oil-master sister from back home. I was taking the antibiotics exactly on time. I was eating absolutely zero sugar (because I know that can make infections worse). I was taking sitz baths and using all the other medications my doctor had prescribed to the T. Oh, and I was also praying a LOT. 

Then one or two days later, I remember thinking, “Well, crap. I am not feeling better. My throat kills. It still looks horrible. Maybe I should just go to the hospital, get the IV antibiotics over with, and just get better already.” Well, then I had the feeling to wait just a LITTLE longer. And a couple hours later, all that slough on my tonsils came off at once. Gross? Yes, but that was my sign that it was going to be okay after all. 

Whew! So the end of the story is that eventually, my body healed. I was so grateful to be feeling better again. However, everyone was telling me, from my doctor, to my mom, to my friends, that I needed to get some help moving forward. With Mike constantly traveling, a 6-week-old baby, and four young kids in general, it was (and is) a lot of stress–mental and physical.

So...I called the relief society president from my church. (FYI: The relief society is a woman's organization in my church that's designed to serve others in need. It's the biggest woman's organization in the entire world, and it's pretty amazing!) The next week or so, a few wonderful women came over and watched my girls while I took my boys to school. They made me dinners and helped me get my kids to bed while Mike was gone. It helped me so much and I was (am) really grateful for their selfless service! After that, I was then 7 weeks post-partum and feeling pretty good. Mike was home for Christmas break so I had a couple "easy" weeks ahead. But looking into the future, I started asking around and pondering a lot about what I could do to “get some help” in the long-run as well. More on that later. 

The boys were out of school on Christmas break as well so we all got to be home together for a couple weeks of Christmas family fun time. It was wonderful!

We went to a couple Christmas markets, which, holy smokes, Christmas markets in Germany are so cool! Christmas lights, dancing displays, train rides, hot cocoa stands, an infinite variety of handmade treats, wooden trinkets, and warm food. I am seriously already counting down to next December! Just before Christmas, I snuck to one a couple towns over sans kids (well, I DID take the baby but she slept the whole time). It was so fun to explore the shops, sample food, sip warm cider, and shop. Some Christmas Market pics below.

My brother who lives in Doha, Qatar, also happened to be here for a couple days in between his own work travels, so it was great to see him during that time as well. 

Christmas itself was a lot of fun too. The kids seemed to really enjoy all their gifts. In between all that had gone on the last few weeks, I really wanted them to make some presents for each other so they could practice giving instead of just receiving. So they worked on little presents the previous weeks and that turned out so cute and fun for all of us. 

Right after Christmas, our friends, the Kuhle’s came to visit. These were some of our best friends who had lived in D.C. with us a few years ago. By some crazy coincidence, they came to live in Germany the same time as we did, only 3 hours away. So we spent New Year’s together and it was just a great time. We went to a local dinosaur museum that has the most amazing collection of birds I’ve ever seen, took the kids to an indoor playground, played board games after kids went to bed, and had so much fun. Ooh, we also went on a walk to the cemetery. Okay, let me tell you about this cemetery real quick…

So, we have this GIANT cemetery in walking distance to our house. (See pics below). About a month and a half ago, we decided to check it out because from the road it looked really beautiful and cool. Now it’s our favorite place to go on walks. Inside is a labyrinth of dirt trails, stone steps, moss-covered statues, monuments, gardens, and candles lighting the tombstones. Surrounding everything is tall trees drooping with ivy vines. It’s like taking a stroll through an enchanted wood, and on each walk, we discover something new (yesterday it was a cluster of cross-shaped tombstones from world war 1).

Anyway, after our friends left, we all got sick again. This time a nasty cold. The kids and I were stuck inside for about 2 weeks. Poor Mike had to travel despite a sore throat and cough. For me, it was actually a good excuse to get more rest. We stayed in our jammies pretty much all day every day and  watched way too much TV.  I tried not to feel too much mom guilt for that…

But by the time the boy’s school started up again last Monday (they had a whole THREE weeks off-we were all getting pretty restless by the end of it), we were finally all feeling better. It is SUCH a blessing to feel well. Let’s have it stay that way!

Yesterday Mike’s family came to visit for a day on their way to South Africa, so that was really nice to see and spend time with them. His parents are coming back in a couple weeks to spend more time here, so we are looking forward to that. 

And now here we are, back in the swing of things. Mike is traveling pretty regularly again. The boys are in school. I am feeling healthy again. Our baby girl is now about 2 ½ months old (I cannot believe that!). She is eating, growing, and even sleeping so well. For the last 2 weeks now, she has slept through the night every night but one. Last night, that girl slept 11 hours in a row. Thank you thank you thank you baby girl for being a good sleeper so far! (P.s. I can’t help but shout it on the rooftops that the book “Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child” has saved our lives because I’ll be forever grateful for the friends who recommended it to us before we had our twins). 

Anyway, I finally feel like we are settling in here and getting a good routine. And also…I’m really starting to like Germany! Once you get over the fact that random strangers scold you on a regular basis, that you’ll have to parallel park almost daily, that paying doctor bills is a huge hassle, that gas is out-of-this-world expensive, that many places aren’t kid friendly, and that you may get eyerolls for not speaking German, it’s actually a way cool place. The parks here are beautiful and amazing, with sculptures and crazy cool playground equipment. The forests are old and gorgeous and filled with mist. The doner kebabs are delicious and my absolute favorite. The bakeries (including the one right across the street from us) have delicious chocolate-filled croissants. The Christmas markets, like I said earlier, are pure magic! The cheese, chocolate, and treats here are really good (chocolate-covered butter cookies and these chewy fruit candies I don’t know the name of are my favorite).  The swimming pools have giant slides and are super fun. The zoos allow you to be closer to the animals and to interact with them without employees hovering over you. There’s beautiful castles and cathedrals and centuries-old lookout towers on the hillsides. Everything is ancient and artistic.  Crime is low. People expect you to do the right thing, and so most everyone does. There’s a no-nonsense attitude and people tell you like it is. It’s kind of abrupt and intimidating at first. But in a way, I like it and it’s nice that everything is so straight forward. Also, we’ve met some awesome Germans! In fact, our German neighbors upstairs from us are the coolest. The other day, we had a table tennis tournament with them in the basement. It was so fun!

In the coming months, there’s a lot to look forward to. Spring isn’t far away now (I can’t WAIT to see how beautiful that will be!) and we have some fun travel plans ahead. We were actually hoping to go to Paris THIS weekend, but we couldn’t leave until Monday and would have had to take our boys out of school. Fun fact: It’s ILLEGAL to take your kids out of school, even ONE day, without a valid excuse here in Germany (P.S. Vacations are NOT a valid excuse). So even though my boys aren’t even in first grade yet, I guess we won’t break the law and take them out for a day or two 😉. Hopefully another weekend in the near future... P.S. When you live in Europe for only a couple years, there's an enormous amount of pressure to travel as much and as frequently as possible, because everything is close and it'll never be this easy again!

So anyway, going back to that whole getting help thing… Now that I’m back to being on my own much of the time, we have hired a couple young women from our church to come help me on some of the nights Mike is out of town.   We also hired someone to deep clean the house once a week. Both of them came for the first time last week and it was Just. Absolutely. Wonderful. 

Let me tell you, moving here has really taught me the importance of asking for help.  I have never asked for more help in my life than I have in the four months we’ve lived here. And it isn’t easy! It’s hard to ask for help because you almost feel this weird guilt that you should be doing it all yourself or you worry that other people say they do, but inside they don’t really want to help, or you worry of being judged, or that your problems and situation aren’t worthy of help. (Am I the only person who thinks this way?) I don’t know if I’ll ever get over those reservations, but the thing I’m learning is that really, in times of need, it’s more than okay to get help, it’s vital! Also, I’m trying to remember that people are looking for opportunities to serve and giving them that opportunity is a good thing. So lately, especially when people ask, “How can I help?”, I’ve been allowing myself to tell them what I need and then receive that help…

And also hire help. Hehehe :D

My only hope is that I can reach a point here where I feel like I can pay it forward and help others as much as they’ve helped me!

P.S. One more fun fact before I sign off: Because of the US Government shutdown going on, the consulate has run out of toilet paper. Check out the first paragraph in this article. Hey, that's us! Kind of funny... Looks like it will be "Bring your toilet paper to work day!" for Mike next week.