Instruments of Torture

Katie

She had a car for a week, and it was a glorious week. We received temporary tags for the week in order to get all the inspections and registration done. Temporary tags are now expired and we wait 3 days to 4 weeks to get permanent tags. So we have a car, but can't drive.

Some have suggested (myself included during a period of naive silliness) that a family could perhaps thrive in Europe without a car. They have all these trains and stuff. Trains they have but riding them regularly is more expensive than having a car (if you want to leave the city). So our eyes were opened to the potential glories of Europe with a car. And now we will wait to realize these celestial visions.

Oh yeah, turned 40.

Madeline

During "choose-your-instrument" night, Maddie was told she was a natural on the flute and had "good lips" for the clarinet. So, of course, she chose the trumpet. Sigh. Why do I suspect Saturday morning will become her preferred practice time?

Caleb

Mr. C chose the violin, in which he has expressed interest since age 4. So he's consistent. He also recently announced that when he grows up, he's going to be a lawyer like his mom. Good kid. We rode our bikes downtown yesterday to pick up his violin and I fell a bit more in love with Frankfurt. First of all, the easy bike-ability is unparalleled. Then there is just one lovely neighborhood after another.

Henry

They take soccer seriously in Germany, at an early age. Soccer practice is divided by skill level, at age 6. I also pause to note that youth soccer is heavily subsidized by the state. After a few weeks of practice, Henry was selected for the more skilled 6-year-old team, but since practice is 100 percent in German, he doesn't really understand. All he knows is that one day he was kicking butt and the next day he was struggling (because he was with the better players). He also suspects, and this may be true, that the German kids prefer only to pass the ball to other Germans.

Tiger

He's killing me. He will not let me sleep past 5 am. If I lock him out of the room, he rampages the house until I get up, so I just have let him wake me up. According to Tiger, my only acceptable activities are: feeding Tiger, petting Tiger, sitting down so Tiger can take up residence on my lap. Killing me.

Katie's 40th, Happy Birthday to Me

I planned a lovely weekend getaway to Munich for Katie's 40th (which technically is still two days away). But so many things conspired against us. The new car arrived just in time, but then we discovered that the one guy in the Frankfurt region who is certified to inspect new American spec cars is on vacation until October.

German engineering? Yes. German efficiency? Meh.

I was prepared to rent a car, take the kids along with us, whatever it would take to not completely fail at delivering the promised birthday trip. But Katie talked me out of it. For the record, it was Katie's insistence!

So, instead of a Munich getaway, yesterday we went to a sports restaurant in downtown Frankfurt (with the kids) and watched a Bundesliga (soccer league) match featuring Eintracht Frankfurt and then went to Guardians of the Galaxy (which was gold, solid gold, you might say). Definitely Katie's best birthday ever, as far as I'm concerned.

Before you feel too bad for her, she did just get a brand new Toyota Highlander (it has 4 miles on it!) and has a trip to Monaco (no kids, or even husband) coming up in two weeks.

Mad Max

Some times I feel like Mel Gibson. No, not the contemporary drunk version. The Mad Max Road Warrior version.

Except instead of cruising a hot rod down the remote country roads of Australia, I'm sitting in economy class on an eight hour flight next to a guy with really smelly feet. But that's basically the same, right?

And instead of having epic battles with evil doers like Nightrider (or Naught Ridah, as they say down under) and Toecutter, I'm looking for waste, fraud, and abuse in government agencies. But that's like, totally the same as far as energy and excitement.

And instead of relaxing, after killing some baddies, on an exotic beach, I'm at the Residence Inn with free breakfast and wifi.

OK, so I'm nothing like Mad Max, except that I sympathize with him when he laments that the road is making him crazy and he just wants to get back to his family or he just might lose it.

Culture Shock

The kids all hit a rough patch of culture shock at the same time last week. But it isn't Germany culture shock, it's foreign service culture shock. The honeymoon phase of travelling around the world is over.

Now they are realizing that any new friend they make is just another difficult goodbye in a year or two. They are trying to figure out the meaning of their desire to go home when they can't even figure out where home is.

So we had some tears. We had some violence. We had some yelling. But I think we are close to moving into the acceptance phase.

On the bright side, we are very close to delivery of our new Toyota Highlander.