Snap: Pretty Germany

Limburg. COLD Limburg. On the last day of the year!

"I'm Gonna be a Star!"

"I'm gonna be a star!" Tara declared a few weeks back, and at every opportunity since. "I'm gonna be a star!"
A star at the nursery's nativity play and "my Kissmas party," which she's been looking forward to very verbally and very much as well. And she was so proud of her role, different from some of her friends. "Maddy be a donkey," she informed me as well. "Maddy wanna be a king... Maddy be a donkey."
Occasionally I would hear her practise to herself, either singing, or reciting her friends' roles. "There's no room!", says Tara the inn keeper, "NO ROOM!" Says Tara, too, when daddy wants to come into the kitchen through the door that she's slammed shut. Or her little voice twinkles loudly, "Christmas pudding, steaming hot, sprinkle on the sugar, eat a lot!", a favourite right along with "Father Christmas, he got stuck, coming down the chimney, what bad luck!"*

So, the night before Tuesday I sit down to make her costume, privately amused by thoughts of how some 25 years ago my mother would have made my kiddie costumes for other occasions, and how now I'm lovingly making the first for my very own darling daughter. Stitch, cut stitch, glue - just within my skills; if she gets a promotion to angel next year I'll have to buy, I fear!


Her party is a hit! There are soooo many parents and siblings and grandparents (some 200 maybe), and my starlet clings to me for the whole of the beginning, except the little trip up to baby Jesus in the manger who was all by himself and needed a starlet cuddle. But when the big moment came and she got called (along with all the other little twinkly stars) onto the stage, off she went like a big girl. Aaaah, the courage!

Proud mum and starlet

(There are loads of lovely picture of donkeys, Mary & Joseph, angels, sheperds kings and stars, none of which I am allowed to stick on the internet.)

Party snack time

After the play and lots of singing, there is a snack party, a very funny magician, and - oh my - a visit from Santa, who gives everyone a present. Tara grabs it quickly while hanging on to me, and will not for the life of her get any closer than necessary. Bless!
I had thought, maybe she'd like to reinforce the content of her passionately scribbled letter to Santa at this opportunity - A puzzle, a 'present' and CHOCOLATE - but she's more into getting away.
Never mind. I'll have a word with the elves, I got connections. Puzzle. Chocolates. And 'a present'. We're on it. Seven days to go, and my oh my, this Tara? She been a good girl. The best! No doubt about it!

She even sung me my favourite song** for the camera. Here you go. Special treat.

Christmas Pudding

and, as befits a star,

Twinkle Twinkle

My star got attitude, man. I love her to smitherens. And I think I may be looking forward to her first proper conscious Christmas more than she is...

* Melody of Fraire Jaque / Bruder Jakob / Brother Jacob.
** My TRUE favourite is this one, actually: Where "We wish you a merry Christman... good TIDIngs we bring...", Tara goes: "We wish you a merry Christmas... We TIDY up, ok ok..." She has me in stitches over it.

Biggest and Bestest Present

It's a classic 'I-turned-my-back-for-a-minute'. I do not react when the voice behind my back declares, "Meine Kalender!" (My caldendar - i.e. same paper), and a little later "There's nothing in it!" (by now she's 'unwrapped' the cardboard roll the paper had been on).
I finally respond to shouts of peek-a-boo.

"Mami! Wrap me up! Einwickeln me, I'm a Baby!"

*giggle giggle*

Well then... Here you go Papi. Big fat Present.

2008. The year of the crumpled wrapping paper.

Today we went shopping...

...or some such thing... And in a few hours we'll be back on a plane, which is a good thing in a way cause Tara has gotten too used to having a present every three hours. I'll do my counting and the exacts maths later but i'm sure it'll average out at something like this. In every other respect it is, of course, quite a shame that even long weekends are really rather short. Ps. Tara put that thing back, of course. It didn't fit in her jacket comfortably.

Highlight

Of course! Holiday + sun = ice cream! Still on sale in Spain unlike in Ramsgate!

6.12.2008

Birthday kiss for my friend Lia kiss blow kiss blow kiss blow x x x

It's a perfect summer's day!

And look at all those Spaniard, awfully overdressed as they are. Bikini, I say!

We've arrived safely and the weather...

... Is great!

Oh YUK!

This weekend we made some really good use of our time / our child, and did / had her do as much cleaning as we could fit in a day. Turns out the little mounldy patches that had kept us company for the largest part of the last weeks / months / year were a little bigger than we thought - sample of one corner on the side, but only one, and only a small pic because it really is too vile to be looked at in great detail; not to mention the fluffy fur layers on the cardboard boxes by the walls, or the complete coverage of the backward facing side of my very expensive leather coat, or the six loads of washing it took to restore half of my wardrobe to a wearable state. Of course, Tara darling didn't have to do any of that cleaning. Dr. Chemist Daddy undertook the pleasurable task of spreading a liter of bleach round the girl's bedroom. Mummy undertook the pleasurable task of overseeing Tara and the hoover, and of managing the aftermath of the superfluous moment in which Tara (of course) found all her (would have been had they not been found prematurely) Christmas presents in the mess, and the chocolate spread treats...


And when all was clean and smelling of lovely bleach, Ariel and other detergents (mold or all that - which is worse??), I sat down and created Tara's very first Adventskalender... and all the conflict that we'll have over it... "Mami, eMineMs? Übejaschung? ... jeden Tag ein Deschenk... MEHR eMineMs? Jetzt?"


Still, not the best weekend ever. The next one will hopefully make up for it, with treats for all... in Spain!

The Things we Have: Last Year's Future is Now

The time has come, as it eventually had to... and last year's unknown future is now. Last week it's been a whole year that Ramsgate has had us, and we've had Ramsgate. Sounds a bit like we've had a disease? Ummm, sorry. Totally unintentional... We don't have no disease, but

Tara has:
* Hair enough to use "clip-clips" and make her look like a sweet proper little girl;
* Entered the Terrible Two's and is of the unfortunate opinion that crying and whining helps. Well. We're all mistaken about this or that occasionally...
* Professed her love for daddy, and just a little after her sweet compliments for mummy. "I love you very much, Papi," she said, while I was away and Papi was playing bricks and puzzles all day long. (Of course her undying love ebbed a little when Mama came back. "I don't like it: Papa," she complained, "Go out!" Tsk. Terrible behaviour. As moody as a teenager, especially after about 4pm when she's refused a nap.)
* A few daily hours at a lovely local nursery full of friends and people that teach her English and odd English habits: "Look, mummy," says Tara. "Tara is doing spitting!" Sprichts, und rotzt über die Lehne vom Kinderwagen. "Na super, toll gemacht," sagt Mama, "was du alles für tolle Sachen lernst von den Jungs im Kindergarten... Komm, wir wischen dir mal das Kinn trocken, du Schlabberschnute..."

We live... HERE

Mami has:
* A social life that's gone into hibernation for the winter, it seems
* Still not grown to love Ramsgate, and still not gotten over The Loss Of Leicester (*sigh*)
* Had a couple of job interviews for part time roles, none of them in Ramsgate, and a good feeling about the last one (today). And if that doesn't work out, then at least there's still hope for a Receptionist's role at the gym, which would be ever so convenient and an opportunity to retrain and try some steps in a different professional direction.
* A nice gym, a new favourite instructor, and new gym friends, even though pole dance has been suspended til the end of the year... again...

Ramsgate... Well it does have it's picturesque sides...

Dr. Papi has:
* Great joy in having his two girls around all the time, and an equally great time away at the lab trying to save the world from HIV.
* Great joy in having his two girls around all the time, even though that does not seem to reduce the amount of cleaning he does at the weekend. Tsk.
* Great joy in having his two girls around all the time, and developed super skills with building blocks, puzzles, and play dough.
* Great joy in having his two girls around, and two girls that cheer when he comes through the door in the evening.
* Just killed a spider. Why oh why do there have to be so many of them, and such big ones too?

Hi! It's picturesque and rainy here!

So that's it. Last years Great Unknown. We have a garden, it's very messy but it's close to the sea. There are no herbs, but there's been some sunshine. There's also been some rain, and somehow all that lies ahead is still a Great Unknown. Well... as long as we don't fall off the White Cliffs...

Life in Ramsgate. It has it's moments.

'T is the season...

The lights are on in Thanet, and with a count down from ten to one, Christmas is on too. Ah such shiny lights, ah so many things to look at, and Santa? Tara is mightily impressed! So full of presents, and so ... RED!

The Long Way Home

Ah, I love it when that happens on the 15 minute walk home from nursery! Tara still needs her sleep but usually now won't admit it, and it's become virtually impossible to get her to sleep her Mittagsschlaf. All she would have to do is eat her lunch (doesn't do that either), and nod off on the way home... Instead, we gladly take between one or even two hours (well, one of us gladly...) - the library is on the way, as are countless opportunities to sit down, lie down, flop down, explore and do what all else there is.

Like, a game of fling-the-ted, seated


Going to sleep - well, nearly right


A picnic of apple on the library back stairs


A pole dance for Obama


An up and down step inspection for the neighbours


Song-and-dance time with dolly ("If you're happy and you know it, stamp your feet...")


We eventually do get home...

We LIE...

We SIT... (and roll, and get rather dirty!)

We SPY...

We... Oh yeah, we GOT ATTITUDE!

... but it does take quite a while. I've learnt to make sure I eat my lunch before I pick her up; it does wonders for my patience. And when all else fails, I tell myself, it's karma, and what goes round comes round. Apparently, I took two hours to get to the end of the street at that age, inspecting every single stone. Well...

Snap: Ich hab dich lieb auch

Wir toben.
Tara: Nicely mit de Tara spielen!
Ich: Ok. Was bist du süß. Ich hab dich lieb!
Tara: Ich hab dich lieb auch.

*seufz*... made my day...

PS.: Five days later I got woken up with a "Mami? Love you!"
PPS.: Manchmal geht das Mama-Loben auch daneben. "Good boy!" sagt sie zu mir. "Nein, Tara, zu Mama kannst du nicht good boy sagen, das kannst du nur zu Jungs sagen," sage ich ihr. "Neeeeiiiin," jammert Tara. "Good boy zu Mama!"

Snap: Pole Dance

It's one of those days when getting home takes a little longer...

PS.: A historical day. Obama gets voted president of the US. Tara has an apple on the way home from nursery, and Sheperd's Pie for lunch. She tells her mum: "Don't worry, mummy, 'kay?" when she is warned not to run so fast, and aks her father: "Are you okay, Papi?" after she's whacked him in the mouth with a spaghetti fork. There is pasta and tomato sauce for dinner. Mum and dad buy this puzzle for their entertainment, Tara does her own puzzles in record time, pretends to type out names on the computer, and declares, "My name is superman, and I can... jump!" Flying would be more adequate, but she's only small. Obama is great. He sure did fly this morning.

Laterne, Laterne - Shake it, Tara!

My-oh! This is better than Cosmic Ordering! There has been more mail for Tara still, and this time Martha & Ida sent her a Lantern, more lyrics than we know the melodies of, and a lantern stick, batterie operated and guaranteed not to burn the house down. Wheeee! Up! And down! Side! To side! To other side! And ALL OVER AGAIN!




Meanwhile, I let the child swing on, thank Katja greatly, and restore the dental floss to its natural abode, my pocket / bathroom cupboard / kitchen shelves / toothbrush holder. (Also, I continue wondering why it says on every lantern's package "Do not use outdoors"... Surely we'd ALL rather burn a bush down than our very own home?)

Snap: Shop till you drop

Better still? Shop till your baby drops, cause then you can go on shopping unperturbed!

See the 'Sale Sale' signs in the corner?
It was on the way back home from nursery, and we were just going to nip into town to get a treat for the way home, but alas! we chanced across this card shop that is folding in (Seriously, three card shops on 30 square meters is a bit too many even for England, especially Ramsgate...), and proclaimed FIVE cards for A POUND! In we went... after all, there are ALWAYS birthdays coming round... poor Tara got fobbed off with "We're leaving in a minute, just let me look at... these... and these... and these..." while I studies every single card in the shop. Poor child. She eventually looked up, voiced a weak 'Mami...' and then her eyes just closed. In the glaring shoplight, facing up, quite a feat.
And I only spent 6 Pounds. So, 30 cards for the price of 2-3. I mean, who can be me, and say no to that?! Exactly. House moves, weddings, kiddie birthdays, Tara's birthdays, new babies (boy/girl)... we're sorted for the next three years or so. My lowest moment came when I spent a minute considering a "Happy 40th Birthday" with Nirite in mind. It was such a nice card... but I did draw the line at the 3-year mark and resisted.* Tara was asleep. I could afford to waste that minute considering splurging.

*Also, as we all know, Nirite will never be 40. "27" forever, and eventually a graceful overnight jump to 55 or so. There were no cards saying "What, 27 again?" - even the cardwise very specific English have not come across such miracles of youth before.

Snap: Big girl, bigger bow!

VIP mail from America contained giant head gear, oh so cute! We're biking child with beautiful bow thru neighbourhood to collect all the aaaaw's that we are thus due! ;) Thanks to auntie Nirite!

Snap: "Mami...?"

On Tara's long days at nursery (8am to 3pm, twice per week), I always feel a little guilty for sending her away for so long. After all, I've not (yet) got a job to justify the long hours, and going to the gym and for a coffee in town doesn't really constitute an excuse either, however much of a good (enough) reason it may be.
But today on the way home she looked up from her pushchair while munching on some 'flamango' (dried mango), and told me:
"Mamiiii...? Kinnergarten schööön. Kara spielen mit Tina. Und mit Isobelle. Und mit Honey." (Mummy, nursery lovely. Tara play with Tina. And with Isobelle, and with Honey.)
And she turned back contentedly, munched on, and eventually conked out from the effort of having so much fun at nursery for seven hours. (Seven hours, Oh. My. God. Major maternal GUILT flash!!!)
I was so touched (and relieved!), just like when she occasionally and unexpectedly praises me for whatever, "Mami, gut 'emacht." (Mummy well done.)
What joy having a walking talking daughter, even though it means she talks back on occasion ('on occasion' read 'daily, many times')...

Laterne, Laterne

Grad habe ich mich noch über den Mangel kaufbarer Laternen beklagt, und schwupp, hat Tara Post von Tante Claudia, Post mit Laterne! So ein Zufall!
Tara ist ganz aufgeregt und begeistert von ihrer "Fischi" Laterne, und nachdem wir einen Ast aus dem Garten gepfluckt und Fischi mit - wo haben wir denn hier mal einen reissfesten Faden... ähm... ah! - mit Zahnseide befestigt haben, darf Tara probetragen.

Mama, guck mal! Meine Laterne!
(Pose manipuliert... Mama hält oben ab Stock fest, von wegen stilll halten und so.)

Das geht so, das Probetragen:
Mama: "Also, gaaanz vorsichtig, gentle gentle! Die Laterne muss still sein und darf nicht wackeln."
Tara schwingt Fischi mit gusto hin und her und auf und ab. Jede Menge Bodenkontakt. Dotz dotz. Tara ist begeistert.
Mama korrigiert: "Nein nein nein, nicht so doll! Nicht die Laterne dotzen! Gentle! Ganz still!"
Tara: "Up! Down! Up! Down!" (juchz) Taras Laternetachnik ähnelt eher Angeln, nachdem ein fetter Brocken angebissen hat und ums Überleben kämpft.
Mama: Siehe oben.
Tara: Siehe oben.
Foto: Siehe unten. Action shot!

"Up! Down! Wheeee!"

Bevor Fischi blaue Flecken kriegt, wird er in der Küche in Sicherheit gebracht. Wir gehen zu ertwas sichereren Freizeitaktivitäten über... Auch gut, sagt sich Tara. Fischi ist meine Laterne (Laterne 'Schenk vonne Tante Caudilia), und ich krieg sie schon wieder. Stimmt. Später. Viel später...

Snap: Self-propelled!

The last time we tried her legs weren't long enough. But now, as she informs the neighbour as he speeds past us on his adult bike, "Tara got de legs!"

Mugshot

On Friday - hah! - I get to go to London to arrange for Tara's new passport, the second one already!
I'm afraid there'll be no spending money though. Shame.
If there was, though, I'd probably need two days off motherhood, what with so many shoe shops, biiig book shops and other London marvels calling, calling, calling very loudly indeed!

*sigh*


While over in Germany (still not reported on, oh dear) I had a look through old pictures of me, for comparison. To show that Tara looks nothing like me! Blatantly obvious in this family shot where our expression at least is similar. And of course, The Nose. But that's all.


She doesn't look much linke her uncle Derek either. The jaw line perhaps?

Baby uncle Derek & Baby Mama

No, there clearly is a reason for why half the village marvels at Tara's resemblance of her paternal grandmother when we waltz up and down her Spanish roots.