December

I'm 28 weeks along, meaning we've made it to the home stretch. 3rd trimester. When it all gets real. I'm bigger, less graceful, things hurt, and the kid is as active as ever but now so big I feel him more.  It's not at all bad though, he hasn't yet located my ribs or any other painful location to kick and punch. I foresee a little nerd, one who just doesn't get the point of hitting hard things with his fists and feet. He's a gentle soul. Or his sense of direction is as amazing as mine, and he just can't find his way around in there....

In other news, this is my last week of German classes until mid-January. I'm ready for a break.  2 months of intensive German language and culture lessons, coupled with sitting in those school chairs for 4 hrs...my back could use a break as much as my mind.

We are headed to an evening with friends tonight, I have brunch and shopping with another friend later this week, and this weekend we're headed to souther Germany to visit other friends. It's an exciting, friend-filled week and I will be so happy to have nothing to do next week!

Normal Views

While gazing out my kitchen window at the neighborhood this morning, it occurred to me that it looks normal now.  It's the view I see multiple times every day.  The older woman next door loves to garden, and her yard is lovely.  Though her house has a detached and very German looking garage, brick rather than poured driveway, and overcast German skies above rather than clear blue Midwestern ones, it's grown familiar and comforting.

The other houses in the neighborhood are very German in their architecture as well, with tiled roofs, sunrooms and terraces, fences lining the streets and meticulously manicured lawns.  And this morning, I realized I feel comfortable and more at home.  It's really nice to not feel as foreign.

Since June

I originally started this blog to talk through my many, complex feelings during the transition from "American living in America" to "American living in Germany."  Then the reality of that move happened, and I had a lot less to say than anticipated.  I had expected to be conflicted, to feel ripped from all that I had ever known and deposited into a strange land with a strange language and strange customs.  And an inordinate amount of pork prepared in an endless variety of ways.

As it turns out, the strange language has been less of a problem since most people here speak enough English for me to get by in any situation, and my German classes are going well.

I've gotten pretty used to the customs during the last 4 years of visits, so nothing was too shocking.

There are many more ways to fix pig meat than I ever could have anticipated.  Some are great, some are, as best I can figure, raw?  Bright pink and served cold to be spread on bread like an actual food.  They also use lard like butter.  It's really just pig fat, in a cold lump, and the locals like to smear it on bread.  I, needless to say, have not embraced that particular local flavor.

So, to catch up since June.  I am still pregnant, even moreso if that's possible.  Oh wait, depending upon when in June I wrote, I didn't know I was pregnant yet.  So yeah, that happened.  And to cover all the usual questions everyone wants to ask but "shouldn't," it was on purpose, we were trying, and it did happen a lot faster than either of us anticipated.  Like, it took a month.

I feel gigantic, but know that I have a long way to go.  I'm only approaching my 6th month, so while I'm bigger than I ever have been in my life, I am not at my Largest I Shall Ever Be So Help Me God.  I have lost any natural grace I ever pretended to possess.  My hands a feet swell if I am not well hydrated, and I have to pee all the time when I am.  My face got so dry for a while there I had to stop wearing makeup, which was actually a highlight.  I've recovered, but have decided to go au natural for a few more days because no one else cares.

We found out that the baby is a boy, and as much as I thought I wanted a girl since I am a girl, and I really liked the idea of little tiny dresses with ruffled socks and tiny Mary Jane shoes, and I really loved my Cabbage Patch Kids and Barbies and was finally going to get the Barbie Play House I always wanted...for the baby...  So yeah, I always thought I wanted a girl, and a stereotypical one at that.  But when I saw the anatomical evidence on the sonogram screen, I was surprised to only feel joy and excitement.  The last few years with R, filled with tractors and combines and dirt and fields and more dirt, have really opened my eyes to a different world.  Seeing a friend's 2 year old daughter playing on their family farm, hearing one of her first words was clearly "tractor," and wiping good farm dirt from her little face was really fun.  She wears adorable little overalls and runs toward farm equipment like I would have run toward a new doll.  And part of what makes it so adorable is the relationship she has with her father.  Sure, she's 2, it's not an overly deep and complicated connection.  He's her daddy, and he's the one that lifts her up into the tractor cab and goes a whole 5 mph for her when she giggles and says, "Schneller, Papa!/Faster, Daddy!"

Our son won't be raised on a farm, but he will be raised by a man that has the makings of an amazing father.  A father who is dreaming of playing in the sandbox with his child, building fantastic Lego cities only to have them destroyed by little tiny hands (well, maybe his dream is more about the building and less about the inevitable destruction, but I don't have the heart to burst his bubble quite yet), about going to the park and getting dirty and catching at the bottom of the slide.  Or maybe riding the slide himself while I catch both of them because he took the kid along for appearance's sake.

(Disclaimer: while he doesn't love the idea of poopy diapers and spit-up, or crying in general or heaven forbid real tantrums, he is also aware that those come as part of the package.  We just don't talk about them, because uuuuuugh depressing.)

And for me, I love the idea of a little boy.  A mix of the two of us.  A little boy who hums while digging holes in the yard when he thinks no one is watching.  A mini-R who drives tractors around the house.  A little kitchen helper who wants to stir cake batter with a toy wrench (assuming I actually bake someday).  A little boy in a tutu with dirt up to his eyebrows, or grass stained overalls dancing in the living room.  I don't care which parts of us he gets, though it would be idea if he takes after his dad's math abilities and my language/communication skills.  Talk about perfection, am I right?

Either way, we're both as excited as can be that we have a healthy son on the way, transforming us from Couple to Family.  It's also terrifying, because it's not going to just be about us anymore (in this case, by "us," of course I mean "me").  But I guess that's part of this whole ongoing Adulthood Experience.  At least now I'll have someone to color with, but he'd better stick to coloring in his own book and leave mine alone, because I am going to make some beautiful art with my crayons.  I'm also going to need my own crayons because he's just going to break them all.  Ugh.

June

I'm so bad at this now. Such good intentions to share my feeeeeelings, and I go and cope well with everything for the first time in my life. Ugh.

Let this be a lesson to me, because I figured this month (the one back in America, killing time between the Month o' Wedding and the Big Move) would be all stressful and anxious and ever so slow. In reality, I have been too busy at work to notice that 3 weeks have passed and there are only 2 to go. We have a going away party this weekend, another next weekend, and then we go away.

I did have a tearful, "It's really ending," moment at the Imagine Dragons concert. I got tickets as a surprise for R, as a Leaving America Last Hurrah present. I thought to myself how amazing the show was, how great a time R was having, and what a great farewell it was.  Then it hit me, it was also a farewell for me. It was my last concert here, my last big night like that with him in America too.  It was amazing, it was special, and I am so glad we did it.

Last Day in Germany for Now

We fly back to Omaha tomorrow afternoon.  I'm looking forward to seeing friends again, but am sad because I'll know it's probably for the last time for some, and the last time for a while for others.

This month in Germany has flown by.  A part of me hopes the next month will feel just as fast, and I also hope it will take its sweet time.

We will be busy. He has to finish up his work in North America, prepare it all for his successor. Every weekend has been booked since about January, as everyone realized June would be our last month in the Western Hemisphere. We have visitors from Germany, squeezing in a visit before we are countrymen, we have a family weekend, and a friend weekend... Before we know it, it'll be time to get back on a plane.

We aren't quite to normal life yet.

The Recap

A few things have happened since my last post. I'm going to leave out a few details because it's been a crazy, hectic, insane time and I can't even hope to remember them all.

We flew to Germany, spent a week in our new town/new neighbor town while R worked and I drank coffee and explored.

The next week we drove over to the Berlin area where we had the most perfect wedding day imaginable. The weather was perfect, the ceremony was wonderful (and fully translated in German and English, so both the bride and groom knew what we were agreeing to), we got our pictures taken in a forest with a lake (the nature touched me at times, but I lived), and then in the lovely courtyard of our hotel. I'm not sure how old the place was, but old enough to have the perfect character for it. There was even an old well in the middle of the yard. The photographer wanted R to crawl into it for some cute pictures, but after closer inspection realized that would make us late to the reception, and require a visit from the local fire department. Possibly the hospital.

We made it to our reception with time to spare, drank some champagne while we waited, then greeted the guests and collected presents. More champagne and some tasty snacks later, we ate a sumptuous supper, made the rounds, danced our little choreographed danced, auctioned the garter for almost 300€ (we're pretty sure we took advantage of a drunk colleague who didn't understand that the Euro is about 1:1 with the dollar, oops), I tossed my flowers, we danced some more, at one point there was a conga line that involved probably right around 95% of the 105 guests (surreal, and way more fun than expected), and then we watched our fireworks show.  I totally cried through the whole thing, while laughing and jumping up and down at the best parts. It was THE most beautiful wedding.

And after walking through the lot with the fireworks, my dress was thoroughly ruined. It is perfectly black around the hem. I am so satisfied with that. It was a perfect day with so many wonderful moments. The photographer made the comment that he had never been to a wedding with so many involved guests. Usually they quit wanting pictures with the wedding couple shortly after the cake (which is about 11). Our family and friends kept him busy until the wee hours of the morning. He kept trying to back toward the door, then someone would grab him and drag him back to document their new group.

We had Americans, Germans, Slovaks, and Italians. They all mixed and mingled, with varying degrees of comprehension. Unlimited alcohol was a great ice breaker.

It was so great because our family and friends were up for anything. For example, we sent them to an asparagus field while we got pictures taken. While there, they handed out asparagus schnapps to try. Evidently asparagus schnapps are pretty gross, so most groups usually only drink 10 little bottles. Our group drank 40. 

I'm so proud.

After the wedding, we did tourist things with my family and his mom for a few days.  While thankfully less exciting than the wedding, those days will be cherished memories.

Now, we are recovering from all the excitement in a Gütersloh hotel. IKEA is closed for Pfingsten/Pentacost, so we have to live it up vacation style for another couple days. After that, we can crash at our own sparsely furnished apartment, as all of our worldly possessions are crossing the ocean at the moment.

Except for a wonderfully dirty wedding dress, of course. 

Milestone: Pizza to Go

R is out with a friend for a Guys Night, so I and the other wife are having a nice night in. She is pregnant with their second and the first is in bed, so I nominated myself Lead Hunter Gatherer for the evening.

I am currently waiting for our pizza at the corner restaurant to take it back for to the Pregnant One.

I only hope the smell of fresh, hot pizza doesn't make her throw up again.  :)

We Are Here

We arrived a couple days ago, and I've wanted to post, but there's been too much to say.

It's still pretty overwhelming.  R likes to encourage me to spread my little American wings, sending me on easy little errands. This morning was good, I went to the grocery store around the corner of the apartment and picked up some breakfast.

Yesterday's foray into the Real World was significantly more traumatic. He was fueling, and I had just enjoyed a liter of Peach iced tea. Delicious, but watery. He sent me in to find the Toiletten on my own. I was nervous, because there were a few bystanders around. But I pulled up my big girl pants and went in to ask. We were fine for the first bit, until the attendant went beyond, "Outside the building and to the right." He kept on with many more sentences. There was the word for "key" in there somewhere, but the rest of it was completely a wash. I waited until the words stopped, thanked him, and went back to the car.

I lived, and even got to pee once R walked me through how it worked, and didn't have a breakdown until we were back in the car and it really hit me that I am moving here in 2 months.

Everything is fine now, no PTSD from that encounter. And I made it through the grocery store just fine this morning.  But it is pretty scary to think that most people around don't know to stick to the dialog. Maybe I should have cue cards made up for all occasions...

May 1

Today is the first of May!!  Today we fly to Germany!! 

We are set to board in less than an hour. By this time tomorrow, I'll have arrived, showered, napped, eaten, and have wandered my new neighborhood. 

This week, we get to pick up our new car, tour our new apartment, order our kitchen, and go to a friend's wedding. And that doesn't include all the minor social engagements.

I can't wait to land!!

Important Fact About German People

It has become evident over the course of the last few weeks that the German people as a whole value pudding more highly than the average American does.

I foresee favorable conditions for me to thrive.

Prospects

R is in Germany this week, and met with friends for supper last night.  One friend is a new mother, and asked what I'm planning to do once we get moved.  He told her that we're going to try to start a family, and I'm going to just do my best to get settled in comfortably.  She was excited by this, because she'll be heading back to work part time pretty soon from maternity leave and is looking for what they call a Day Mother.  It's exactly what it sounds like...someone you take your children to during the day when you're at work.  Like in-home daycare, but without the regulations.  It's usually friends with similarly aged children, with one mother not wanting to return to work.  When R asked why she would choose me, our friend was very excited.  What better situation could she come up with than a friend who can help teach her baby English, and music?  It's one thing to study English in school; it's a whole different matter to hear it almost as much as you hear your country's language from the crib.  She told R that if I went for the idea, I would probably reach the unlicensed daycare max in no time at all.  Most German parents would rather have a Day Mother than a Kindergarten, and with my connection to a number of young professionals all starting their families at the same time, it would be an easy path to follow.

I let myself imagine the possibility on my bike ride this evening, not placing expectations or limitations on it.  I actually like the idea, as long as it's only 1 or 2 extra kids.  Maternity leave in Germany is 1 year, so I wouldn't have to worry about tiny babies.  It would give me the ability to feel better about staying home, since I still have some hangups about being a contributing member of the family.  I don't need to earn a lot of money, but I do want to be able to contribute by doing more than cooking/cleaning/laundry.  We are moving to a more expensive country.  He got a raise to do so, but we are losing my entire full-time income at the same time, so in the end it's a pay cut.  And sometimes I feel like moving to Germany is taking the easy way out for me.  Move to Germany, retire from the workforce at 35.  Being a stay at home mom is a full time job, no doubt about that.  But I won't be one of those for at least a year.  Until then, I'm just at home.  It might be fun to stay home and play with a baby for a few hours a day, get used to it a little.  Then, when we have our own, it'll be even better because it'll be ours.

And the thought of my music background and my English language skills as being advantages rather than clear disadvantages in Germany is very appealing.

Ironically, earlier this week, an American friend and I had talked about her staying home and opening an in-home daycare, because she hates having to work and send her babies to someone else for the day.  I love the idea of giving my friends someplace they actually would want to send their kids, where they will be taken care of more than the would at a larger Kindergarten.  I had told her that, if we were staying, that would be an ideal situation for me as well.  I won't want to be a working mother...I hardly like working as it is.  So now, a few days later, the idea becomes a real possibility on the other side of the world.

This whole move has seemed freakishly easy.  He got the job he was hoping for, before he even knew it existed.  We have a beautiful apartment, he's going to buy a car while he's there this week (and it's even his dream car), we get married in exactly a month from tomorrow, and we move in just over 2 1/2 months.  I almost typed that it feels surreal, but that's not true.  It doesn't feel surreal at all, in fact it feels pretty normal.  We've been planning it all for so long, it just feels good that the action is finally almost here.

Someplace to Call Home

The previously mentioned Germany Apartment didn't work out.  We weren't chosen by the landlord.  As it turns out, in Germany as in America, it is unusual to rent an apartment to someone you have never met.  In a traditional society like Germany, a face-to-face meeting is far more important than a collection of emails.  There was too much interest surrounding that apartment than our many emails could overcome. 

Luckily, our persistence did attract some attention, and a phone interview was held with the landlord for our 2nd choice apartment.  Well, if we're honest, my 1st choice and his 2nd, merely because there is a washer/dryer hookup in this one.  (This is more of an issue than I realized until we started apartment hunting.  I only remember one or two other apartments on our extensive list of possibilities had in-unit hookups.) 

The landlord was reassured by the phone call, and we were chosen for the 2nd apartment.  We call it the Dark Floors apartment, because it has dark floors.  We're creative like that.

We do have to start paying rent early on this one as well, which is frustrating.  I really hope this is our most expensive year ever.  The next big purchase will be a house, and the down payment won't be equal to what it's costing us to get married AND relocate. 

Reinhold has started researching honeymoon possibilities for the first week of July, when all our worldly possessions are making their way across the ocean.  We're not sure how much we'll have for that, because this apartment comes without a kitchen installed (as most apartments in Germany do, except the apartment we didn't get.  Kitchens are usually considered property of the renter, much like the furniture in any other room).  A basic kitchen is a few thousand dollars, so there goes the last remnants of our savings (also known as our honeymoon fund).

All things considered, both of us are handling the whole thing pretty well.  It's just exciting enough to overcome any anxiety we might have about being destitute by August.  We keep looking for places to trim a little fat, and the only place would be the wedding.  Whenever that comes up, we look at each other and agree that it's worth it.  For us, having the best adventure we can at our wedding, with our family and friends, is what it's about.  And, interestingly, we are spending less than we would on the same size affair in America.  Some things are more expensive, but after talking to some work friends about their receptions, we are doing really well.  We're far under what we budgeted for the wedding initially, but over when it comes to a down payment on a car, realtor fees for the apartment, kitchen purchasing, apartment deposit, 3 months rent when we don't even live there, etc.

In non-monetary topics, the wedding is a mere 61 days away.  My dress is sized and ready to go.  I have my shoes, my hair appointment for the test run and the day of, and I'm narrowing down my choice of nail polish colors.  R is going to meet with our event planner when he's in the area next month, to coordinate with the priest and discuss the final particulars.  I plan to be available at that time for any questions.  And by available, I mean actively Skype-ing with them the whole time whether they "need" me or not.  It'll be better for everyone that way.

As far as work, I'd like to be done.  It's hard to know my end date, but still be there for another few months.  I'm not a patient person, and I'm excited about something else now.  Work holds little appeal.  Less than it ever has before, even.  But it keeps me entertained, most of the time, and paid.  Considering the previous paragraphs, paid is a good thing.

Rough Waters

We had a little upset in the plan this weekend. We re-ran some numbers, and things were not as we were hoping. 

The wedding that started out moderately expensive has become more expensive, thanks to the shuttle service, cost of photographer (insane over there compared to over here), English speaking DJ vs just German, etc. 

We found an apartment we love, but to get it we have to start paying rent a few months early. We were expecting that, but were hoping for reduced rent/no utilities.  The landlord came back today saying it's all or nothing.

It's just as expensive as we assumed, but were hoping for a break somewhere. So far, it hasn't happened yet.

Stagnant

I'm pretty sure time moves differently for me than others.  It's either that, or I'm half as patient as everyone else.  Whatever, not important.

We are waiting to hear back on whether or not we got the apartment we want in Germany.  A part of me really hopes we do, but a part of me also wants to keep looking.  There are some really amazing places in our Target Area, and it's hard to decide on one.  Especially because we kept looking after we put in our application...  That's a recipe for regret.

Yesterday, R told me that if I have any reservations about moving to Germany, it's not too late.  He has a job, we have a bank account; those are the 2 main things you need to facilitate the rest of life.  And it's that rest of life he wants to make sure are the best for both of us they can be.  And it's because he's so careful to make sure I'm an equal partner in this decision, that he's not dragging me off to his country in pursuit of only his dreams, that I can be as committed as he is to this move.  I feel like I'm getting at least as much out of it as he, long term.  Short term will be difficult as I struggle to adapt, but I'm hoping the long term benefits won't take too long to kick in.

Home, Sweet Home

We are in the process of finding somewhere to live on the Other Side.  We've been looking at apartments online for months, narrowing down which city we want to live in.  We started wanting Warendorf, a suburb-like town slightly west of where we assumed R would work.  As usual, life took a different turn that what looked like the obvious course for the last 4 years.  Rather than working directly for the Mothership, he took a position on one of the Supply Ships.  As a result, we got to start a new apartment search, and were pleasantly surprised by what we found.  We submitted an application for an apartment last week, and should hear back on it early this week. 

We had planned to spend the first week of May apartment hunting, never dreaming it could be this easy.  So now we don't know what to do for that week in May, maybe shop for furniture?  Get to know our new town?  Drink a lot of lattes?  Take naps?  Get pregnant? 

It is getting harder and harder to keep taking that silly little pill every day, but I know if I stop before the wedding it'll pretty much guarantee a bright and shining moment of fertility that will make everything more complicated than it needs to be.  I'm already anxious about everything falling into place (as it seems to be doing), no sense adding a bunch of hormones into the mix, right?  Right?

Amy nach Deutschland : Amy to Germany

I have decided to chronicle my move to Germany, both physical and mental.  I proposed the idea of this blog to my fiancé (henceforth known as R), and asked for suggestions for what to call it.  His first suggestion was, "Gone, baby, gone." 

Um, no.

I have spent the first 34 years of my life living in the American Midwest.  I grew up in Missouri, thanking my lucky stars I didn't live in Kansas.  Then I moved to Kansas.  I realized Kansas isn't all that different than Missouri, and after all, it wasn't Iowa, right?  Of course my next move was to teach at a small university in southern Iowa. I really should have learned from previous experience, but I didn't.  I really, truly thought to myself, "Well, all these moves to someplace I thought was the worst, at least I'll never wind up in Nebraska."  So mere months after moving to Iowa, I met a guy living in Omaha, where we now live.  R works in the agricultural industry, and refers to my moves as a Tour of Corn Belt.  Sigh.

In a few short months, I'll be moving to Westfalia, located in the upper-left-ish part of Germany.  (In case you're curious, they also grow corn there, though a little differently.)  R is originally from there, and soon we will both call it home.  Weather-wise, it's a lot more like Seattle than Kansas City.  It's often rainy, and lacks the extreme temperatures one never really gets used to.  R jokes that you can tell when summer arrives because the rain turns warm.  At least I think he's joking...

Moving on.  After a few not-so-good name ideas, we settled on "Amy nach Deutschland," meaning Amy to Germany.  It's simple, which is not representative of this transition at all. 

Oh, and just to add to the fun, we're getting married in Germany 2 months before we move.  So in May we head over, tie the knot, fly home for the month of June, and then fly back in July for good. 

It's a good thing I didn't resolve to have a stress-free 2015.