Tarlielula

Tara is in love. With Lola. With "Taarlie". With "Tarlielula".
She was 22 months old two days ago, and for a special treat (and also because it was raining again and I needed a break from active mummytainment) I thought I'd introduce her to television, and (Trommelwirbel) the endearing, genius and original one & only Charlie & Lola!

Lauren Child's Charlie & Lola (middle). Aah. Tara's passion.

Two minutes into her first episode she'd lost her heart, identified with the "Kinners" (Kinder) and "Nenes" (G,S, 'children'). And after two days that she's started by asking for "Taarlielula" before even asking for "Füsück" (Frühstück, breakfast), and protesting loudly and tearfully when I only concede to two episodes (and I'm not even asking for how many daddy allowed before I took over), I'm very honestly rather sorry, really!

I do have to admit, I enjoy them as well. Quite greatly, really. The English original as much as the honestly outstanding German translation. So. Here we are, rain or shine, enjoying some quality couch time together, discussing the action, and watching spellbound:

Quality couch time staring at The Box

(There IS a *** video but I've now tried FOUR times to upload it, and the last attempt lasted all night, 8 hours, and I just can't get it up (o to speak), so **** that)

"Fah'n Daja"

Während ich heute Tara den Rücken zudrehte, um am Computer Sachen zu machen, die wesentlich weniger interessant waren als der Kindersachenbestellkatalog, den Tara gleichzeitig nach Babies durchforstete, muss sich die Tara gedacht haben, dass man bei so einer langweiligen Mama am besten auswandert. Ein empört gequietschtes "eh, Jacke!" habe ich ignoriert, nur um mich etwas später umzudrehen und mein selbst-angezogenes Kind auf dem Soßa strahlen zu sehen. "Jacke!" strahlte sie mich an, und erklärte gleich darauf: "Fa'hn Daja! Fa'hn a Daja!" (Zu Claudia fahren)
Gesagt, getan, und los mit dem Puh-Bär-Töff-töff!


Weit ist sie nicht gekommen, mit ihrem etwas luftigen Rücken der verkehrt herum angezogenen Jacke, und zum Glück kam dann auch gleich Papa nach Hause, und hat sie abgelenkt von dem Unglück, dass Tante Claudia viel zu weit weg wohnt, um mit Puh Bär vorfahren zu können.
Aber wir erinnern uns gerne and Frühhochsommer in Wunstorf und mit "Daja" auf dem Sofa chillen...

Erm...

As fate would have it, the day after we announced the arrival of summer, it took flight and departed. That was highly frustrating, we'd already gotten quite used to it, and forgotten all about how drab life inside push chair and weather shield could be.

Life inside push chair and weather shield? DRAB!

So when the rain took to an on-off pattern after a day of climbing the walls, we waited for a dry lull and took to the shops. By bobby car. No push chair.
MISTAKE!
I'm told that when I was small, it took about two hours to get to the end of the street, which was about eight houses long. So by comparison, 90 minutes for 5 streets and back, including shopping for fish and pears, isn't too bad. Except, it was.
Tara riding the car? Didn't quite work. Spent about 2% of the trip on it, and the remainder having fun
*trying to push her car
*eating a snack
*touching up trees, cars, fauna, stone walls, and pebbles
*asking to be picked up again and again and again
*sitting on benches
*sitting on curbstones
*admiring half dead worms
*pausing in the middle of the road to contemplate life
*trying to visit a high number of neighbours
*chasing all available cats

She drove me to distraction. In fact, she drove me to the purchase and immediate consumption of a fat brownie as soon as we had gotten to and had safely left the shop. This is the bad kind of brownie, for extremely frustrated mothers. It comes with a warning that reads: "Warning! This is an extremely scrumptious treat. If you consume more calories than you burn, you will get fat!"*

What can I say. Tara had fun all right. Except when she got pulled off the street by a mother two degrees below desperation point, and told in no uncertain tones that stopping to contemplate life
while crossing a street wasn't on, because the streets belong to cars, which are dangerous animals.
Except Tara's little red car. Which won't be taken out again for any similar trips for the next 12 years at least.

For the remainder of the rainy season, we will read books, bake cakes, take hot baths, and shop online.


* It doesn't really say that. It says, "Warning! This cake is an indulgent treat. If you eat more calories than you burn, you will gain weight!" I had to go back and buy another one to confirm the exact wording. Of course, I didn't have to eat it for that purpose. However, I did.

The Arrival of Summer

Summer arrived over night, while we were away as well. Adapting to decent temperatures? In steps!

Step One: Send child outside with a bit of water to mess about with.

Step Two: Slap sun block and a heat on. Ignore tears and cries of "No deam! No deam!" (No cream).

Step Three: Accept that no water will stay in any container that child can manipulate.
Step Four: Find container for child and child made puddle that child can NOT manipulate.

Step Five: Inflate paddling pool and sun roof despite child's protests "Decke! Decke!" (blanket) as she pulls limp sun roof over her legs.

Voila! Success!
Step Six: Accept that hat will not stay on child and strip her of remaining clothing as well.

She played and played and played, mostly by herself - if you don't count her demands on her mother as refiller of water containers when she'd tipped them into her puddle. For over an hour, it was a proper domestic miracle. And after she'd come out, she just went on playing by herself, and read a book without wanting mummy to sit on and turn the pages. That hadn't happened since we moved down, i.e. for half a year. Bless summer for miracles in toddler independence.

That was on Thursday. Today we dug her summer clothes out. It seems the 'not-on-my-head!' rule applies to hats only. Everything else she tries to put on and got stuck on her head.

Quite and effort, given that we aim at being as naked as we can for as often and long as we can!

Been gone a few days

Why, you impatient American lot! We've been to the Homelands for a few days, and we've had ourselves an all-singing, all-dancing time!

Laa-laa, ding-ding - Great time in Germany

The main purpose of the visit was to visit baby Maja, 3 months old already, and to celebrate Opas 58th birthday, again!


Maja was too small to really care for us. We compensated for the loss of attention with over-eating aplenty, especially of cake.

Opa, of course, did care greatly for our singing, dancing and eating company. For a special birthday treat he got asked to come and play in the sand on the playground (which he refused), and to unblock the toilet (which he could not refuse). Technically, that had everything to do with the trees we planted too close to the house some 20 years ago (when Opa was some 38 or thereabouts), and which have since sunk their roots into the plumbing and blocked the pipes with a fine but firm mesh of intersecting, impenetrable roots. Yes, that is so.