Exploring Frankfurt

Frankfurt is one of those cities that everyone knows about because its a big city in Germany but people don't actually go there very much (aside from business) because there just isn't a lot to do there. According to Rick Steves (who I've decided is my own personal Guru), Frankfurt used to be a banking town (there are a ton of banks) but wanted to change their image. So, they invested a bunch of money into the arts and museums started popping up right and left. Now, I didn't actually go into any museums (its just not my favorite way to experience the culture of a new city), but we did explore all of the areas around the museums.

This is Brendan, Stina, and Adam in the main tourist square.

It looks like those buildings behind them are really old, but actually, they were redone in the 1980's.

We drank authentic Frankfurt apple wine (which was remarkably like hard cider) and entertained Ilya by tossing her around a bit.

Have I mentioned what a great traveller my daughter is? Aside from the whole "no sleep" stance she took on the plane, she has been a saint. Here she is entertaining herself in our hotel room. I swear she did this for over an hour.

She is sound asleep now, after my friends (otherwise known as saints) took care of her this afternoon so I could catch up on some much needed sleep.

Tomorrow, we hop on a train for Magdeburg (6 hours total including two transfers) - I'm not worried. Ilya is a pro at traveling.

The Plane Ride

How can a child who roughly stays awake for 5 hours at a time suddenly decide to stay awake for all but the last five minutes of a 10 hour flight? There were tears. Both hers and mine - luckily, I have THE GREATEST HUSBAND IN THE WORLD. He did more than his fair share of baby duty.

The flight was barely half full which meant that Ilya had her choice of empty seats - not that she wanted to sit. Ever. We tried everything to get her to go to sleep, but in the end, when it was 12am Seattle time and the plane was making its final decent, she closed her eyes and concked out. Awesome. She slept just long enough for us to reach our hotel then woke up and was ready to play. And I thought jet lag was hard BEFORE having a baby.

Our friends are coming to meet us at our hotel and should be here any minute. I can't wait to see them and explore. As I write this, it is about 5:30pm Frankfurt time and Ilya has been asleep for the last 4 hours which is why I am tickling her toes and trying to explain that she needs to wakes up now so that she can sleep again in 3 hours. Logic does not work as well as one might imagine on a one year old.

T-minus 12 hours and counting

I leave for the airport in 12 hours. 12 hours! I'm starting to feel less terrified and more excited - which isn't saying much because for the past 2 weeks, I have been 100% terrified as anyone who has been around me can attest to. I'd say I'm now 95% terrified and 5% excited. That's progress.

I'm going to be more faithful about updating this blog so that when Ilya is older and doesn't remember this adventure at all, I can point to this blog and show her all the wonderful things that she has forgotten. I've also had about a million people ask me if I am going to be keeping a blog while I travel, and I can't disappoint my public now can I?

Truthfully, I get nervous when I think of lots of people reading my blog. I feel obligated to be mature and use big words. So, I'm just going to pretend that you are not reading this blog (and, lets be honest, you probably aren't) which means that I can write whatever the hell I feel like, and you don't get to correct my spelling or comment on my punctuation.

For those of you not reading this blog, you should know that I no long have a phone, nor do I know the address of the friends I will be staying with in Germany so getting ahold of me might be tricky. Unless you use e-mail. But I'm not going to post my e-mail address here because Adam told me that if I post my e-mail address online then crazy robots will hijack my account and send porn to all my friends and family...so, your welcome.

Beach Vacations

So, remember when ilya was terrified of being anywhere near water when we signed her up for those swim lessons about a year ago? Remember how worried I was that she would grow up hating the water and never learn to swim? Apparently all she needed was a tropical sun and a pool that was designed specifically with her in mind complete with a shallow end consisting of about 1 foot of water that occupied half the pool. She was in heaven. She apparently doesn't remember her fear of swimming because she jumped right into the water like she was born to be there.

This love of water, however, does not extend to the ocean. Ilya is convinced that the ocean is some sort of monster that will certainly gobble her up if she is anywhere within a 30 foot radius of the thing. This fear extends to family members, which is really quite sweet if you think about it. Every time I would jump into the ocean, she would cry and cry until I came back out (alive, surprisingly). She did enjoy building sand castles and being buried in the sand.

Ilya also loved running around bear foot and saying "hola" to everyone she passed. She did NOT enjoy the plane ride. Neither did the people sitting next to us, now that I think about it. We did everything we could to entertain her, including offering to let her watch "Blues Clues" TV for the first time EVER, but there is only so much that can be done in a 3 foot by 3 foot area. Just in case you were wondering, the TV managed to entertain her for approximately 5 minutes!

Other, non-Ilya related details: Adam and I took a day off, courtesy of Grandma Mel, to go on the "Bora Bora" while Ilya stayed behind with Grandma to play on the beach. The tour consisted of waiting a very long time in the rain (yes, it does rain in Puerto Vallarta) to board a ship with very loud spanish music blaring constantly. We had wanted to go on this tour because it was billed as a "snorkeling adventure." The "snorkeling adventure consisted of 10 minutes of watching three fish eat left-over fruit with 50 other people, many of whom were kicking you in the face the entire time. There was a spanish DJ whose job it was to entertain the passengers. I wouldn't know as he only spoke spanish, and the one time I did venture downstairs, I was confronted with a half naked 50 year old, overweight Mexican man doing a strip tease. I am not making this shit up. There just isn't enough alcohol in the world to make that entertaining.

The rest of the trip was lovely complete with tropical sunsets, sunbathing, excellent food and more sun than rain. They kept playing holiday music, which really weirded me out as it was about 80 degrees outside, but I guess Christmas happens on December 25th no matter where you are in the world.

I read Julie/Julia on the beach and got inspired to spend a year cooking a an entire recipe book while blogging about it. Then I got uninspired when I realized that the indulgences that I had already partaken in thus far on the trip had increased my waistline far more than I would like to admit and cooking french food with all that butter would do nothing to help this problem. I did agree to reconsider the idea if Adam could find a cookbook that was a chicken and sea food only dairy-free cookbook. Anyone out there have any good suggestions?

My skin, has once again, stubbornly refused to turn any colors other than red or white. I, however, having learned from previous mistakes (Thailand) decided to maintain my chalky white color rather than the oh-so-attractive red color that seams to be all the fashion this season. I love the holiday season, but I must draw the line somewhere.

Gwynne

I don't remember the first time I met Gwynne, but I do remember that she was not like anyone I had ever met before. For one thing, her house was a mess. There was always butter on the counter and dirt everywhere. One time, she even mailed her son, Matt, a care package that contained - among other things - cat poop. She drank wine and told me that Kivas were used to sacrifice shrimp to the aliens. Gwynne was not like other mothers, and I loved her for that.

I loved that she made no apologies for the way she lived. She was full of ideas and stories and was never afraid to pursue them. She treasured her family and her animals and devoted her time and energy to them instead of her floors. I'd never met someone so committed to her ideals. She believed in the power of stories. I always felt comfortable and accepted when I was at her house, and as I grew older, she made the effort to stay in touch with me. She even sent my daughter her only copy of "Goodnight Moon" - a favorite in our house.

When I found out that she died, I cried, but I also reminded myself that there are more important things in this world than a clean kitchen and a dinner on the table at 6pm. I was reminded of all the stories that I want to share with my daughter and the adventures that I want to have. Remembering her life, helped bring a little bit of peace to my life.

I will miss you, Gwynne, but I will continue to be inspired by you.

A Letter for my Daughter

Dearest Ilya,

I wanted to write this so that when you are older and you look back through these posts to see what you were like as a toddler, you might understand how incredibly special you are. Most parents think that their children are amazing and talented and brilliant. Most parents thrill in the accomplishments that their children achieve and tell anyone and everyone how amazing their child is. Most parents delight in the day to day wonder that their child brings. Adam and I are no different from most parents, but you are very different from most children. 

When you walk into a room, people can't take their eyes off you. Other children gravitate towards you and want to know you. Adults are in awe of your abilities and your charming disposition. Everyone who meets you loves you. 

You have the vocabulary of a three year old. You smile all the time. When you meet new friends (and every child you meet between the age of 1 and 12 is a new friend) you create joy and fun with screeches and giggles and games that involve running in circles. You delight in things like water drains and lady bugs. You sing the A, B, C's and count to three and spell your name. You stir pots when we cook and pour water from cup to cup until you get bored and empty it all on the floor. 

I don't know what I did to deserve such an amazingly wonderful daughter, but I do know that you are special. And Loved.

counting

Ilya has learned to count - except for "one". 

She sounds like this: "two, three!" in a really high pitched voice which I think is what she thinks Adam and I sound like when we are trying to get her to say something.

Maybe we should all just get rid of "one". I mean, really, how many things in life would be so much better if there was more than one. Brownies, kittens, best friends...I'm sure there are others, but I'm blanking. 

She can also say her "A, B, C's"...kinda. It sounds like this: "A, B, C, L, M, N, O, P," and sometimes she adds "Z" just to finish it off. 

Brilliant!