An Open Book

I, like many US citizens, see the 'Patriot Act' of 2001 as an invasion of privacy. Although, looking through someone's library records does tell a lot about a person. 

Wow, Paige finished this book in a few days:

And these ones in just two days:

Hum, but she's not moving very quickly on this one:

Spoiler: it's because I'm taking so many notes.

A lot of these tween parenting books give tips about how to get your child to open up to you. We all know "How's it going?" doesn't usually get you a real answer even with adults. But, I learned a new trick about how to get the scoop from my friend Ana at the Kita Christmas party. If you see your friend looking sad or happy just declare it. Hearing, "you look horrible," gave me permission to get out some of my pent-up tears. Which, is a good segue to why I was crying again this morning in the Kita.

I just found out that one of our beloved Kita teachers, Judy, died of cancer a month ago. In the last couple years she'd moved to the Kita around the corner so I'd had fewer daily interactions with her. The parents at the Kita around the corner knew that she was sick and died, but the news wasn't public at our Kita as most of the current kids never had the pleasure of having Judy as a teacher.

Like most of the teachers at Kita, I didn't know her well. I knew she was about my age and moved to Berlin for a boy. She was kind and bubbly. She was forgiving when Hugo started a revolt on an Ubahn while on a Kita field-trip. Just last week we were looking at Crosby's Kita picture album and Carmen pointed to her and said "That's Judy." Carmen knew her, even though she'd only met her a handful of times at joint Kita field-trips.

There are some jobs where you can fake enthusiasm or be motivated enough by renumeration to do the work. However, anyone who chooses to be a preschool teacher does it out of love. I am grateful for the love Judy poured out to my kids over their collective seven years at Kita. I wish I'd had the chance to tell her one last time how thankful I am. Instead we'll be sending a video to her grieving mom in Colombia of the kids singing a song. We were blessed to have Judy in our lives. We will miss her beautiful smile and warmth.  

Making All Things New

The littles lived their best life today.

Christmas Market with Daddy

Performance in the Nativity Play as the Big Lebowski Wise Man

The Beckley family tradition is to eat waffles and then open presents on Christmas Eve. But with #ADHDfamily, dinner needs to lead straight into winding down for bedtime. As such, once home from church we started the first of FaceTime Christmas. I can recommend Zombie Kids Evolution if you haven't found a gift yet for that special someone.  

Once we wrapped up with Papa, I embarked on my most adventurous waffle off-road yet. Yes, it's possible to find gingerbread waffle recipes on the internet. However, none of these recipes include half-eaten versions of actual cookies. 

Thus, I present to you - my adoring blog readers (and generous giver of gingerbread cookies) - a Paige Biggs' adaptation of this recipe. 

Remixed Gingerbread Waffles

Ingredients:

- 170 g butter, melted

-  350 g gingerbread ground-up

- 1 tablespoon baking powder

- 1/2 teaspoon salt

- 3 Eggs, Large

- 12 oz whole milk

- 2 teaspoon vanilla extract

- 2 cups grated carrots, freshly grated

1. In a medium bowl melt the butter. 

2. Whisk together the eggs and whole milk with the butter. 

3. Food process the carrots, then stir into the wet batter.

4. Turn on your waffle maker and let it heat up. Once the waffle maker is preheated, scoop about 1/2 cup of batter onto the waffle sections. My waffle maker took five minutes per waffle. 

5. Food process the gingerbread with the salt and baking powder. 

6. Pour the dry ingredients into the wet. Stir until just combined. You don’t want to see any dry patches of flour.

7. I added 50 grams or so flour because it looked too runny. Maybe try a waffle first before adding more flour? 

8. Transfer cooked waffles to a baking rack on a sheet tray and keep warm in a 200 degree oven while you finish cooking the rest of the batter.

9. Serve with peanut butter, defrosted frozen fruit, and/or whip cream. Syrup is just too much for these. 

10. Take a picture and send to me. Do you think I took a photo of the finished waffles? Nope, too busy snuggling this little person who insisted on sleeping in her new dress.

On that note, Santa's little helper needs to stuff some stockings. Merry Christmas!

Hilfe

Wir suchen Verstärkung! Zwei Eltern für drei Kinder reichen nicht für alle die waschen, kochen, Hausaufgaben, Kita-Abholungen, etc. Zweimal in der Woche 15:00-19:00 (optimal wäre Montags und Mittwochs) suchen wir eine Leihoma.

Wer sind Sie:

- Jemand diese chaotische Kindererziehung saison überlebt haben 

- Jemand die Erfahrung bei Kochen für große Gruppe haben 

- Jemand die wollten ein wichtiges Teil von einen Berlin Familie sein

Manchmal wäre das einfach Babysitting für diese drei.

Manchmal haben wir eine leeren Kühlschrank und ich, Paige, habe meinen Fokus auf die Kinder. Sie können etwas Leckeres vorbereiten. Wir sind Allesfresser. 

Also, echt alles. 

Es wird eine Offizialle Mini-Job durch quitt-de. Es wird die maximale Zahlung im Monat von 538 Euro. Das ist etwa 15 Euro pro Stunden mit Urlaub und Versicherung inklusive. Gerne können wir darüber beim 015901174590 sprechen. Wir freuen uns sich kennenzulernen. 

How to: Todoist

This book could be considered a romance novel replacement for my ADHD brain:

A neurotypical husband who unconditionally loves and supports his ADHD wife while she does all the infuriating ADHD stuff. Swoon. 

Unfortunately, a fantasy for me is a nightmare for many a neurotypical partner. My friend, who shall remain anonymous, picked up this book for ideas to manage life with her ADHD partner. She really didn't like the book in large part because it outlines strategies for how to take care of an "adult child". It's daunting for women, who usually turn-out to be the primary caretakers of children, to think about taking care of a spouse who won't grow-up and move-out. But, as an "adult child" myself, I'd argue that what we ADHDers bring to the relationship in-terms of creativity and fun makes us worth the added frustrations. Right? Right...Paul?

The book is written by a neurotypical husband* and ADHD wife.  The * is that this husband was a teen parent (with a former partner) and is now out of the intensive parenting season. As such, I would argue that he is much better equipped for some of the extra relationship challenges that come from ADHD. My grandmother turned 20 eight days before my dad was born; there wasn't anything she couldn't handle. In fact, I'm looking for a professional grandma right now as we speak. But I digress...

I would say the general aim of the book is to build empathy for neurotypical partners around the struggles their ADHDers face. If you're married to a neurotypical techie man, like me, then instead of having him read this book you can just show him your to-do list. When Paul saw my monstrosity of a to-do list while transferring over my Evernotes to Apple notes he said, "It made me really sad for you."  

One summer day we employed the ole "kids play" and "parents talk" strategy at the Jewish Children's Museum to get my Todoist app set-up. Todoist - the actual topic of this blog post.

I have the basic free version which includes five projects. The same organizational principles as physical stuff and ADHD applies here - less is more. The problem isn't not having enough organizational bins, it's having too much stuff.

Home is where I have my daily routines.

You're looking at this and saying "OMG you nap every day?". Yes, I need more sleep than Paul does and we go to bed and wake-up at the same. Until I can get my ADHD diagnosis and get some Ritalin flowing through these veins, giving my tired brain a rest is the best I can do. That, and putting on make-up to disguise "Raccoon Mommy". 

Daily Checklists is actually not a good name for this next section, but basically it's where I keep track of things I need to replace in my purse and my sabbath check-list.

This is the list of which I am the proudest but unfortunately don't crush as hard as I wish. I also just started blocking out 1.5 hours on my calendar on Saturday to have time to do get "Sabbath ready".

You've got to plan to rest so you have time to take your kids to cozy lunch spots like this.

Hugo: "Take a picture of me hanging from the hand-cuffs!" 

Side note: I sent unsupervised Hugo to the toy store to buy a present for the class' advent calendar. I didn't ask what he got until I found out too late that he gifted a kid handcuffs. But, no phone calls home. So #normalBerlin #esposas

The Grocery list tab is pretty self explanatory. It's kind of silly because the app congratulates you for accomplishing tasks at the grocery story as you check things off.

The Errands Tab could also be named "excuses to get out of the house". 

I recommend the Sub-section: "Kid Entertainment"

I haven't totally cracked the Annual Planning tab. 

At the top I list my general priorities. Below, I have a list of todos for the coming months. Some things don't need to be repeated every year - like picking-up Carmen's new ID card - but some do - like figuring out how to survive Christmas break. 

Stay sane my friends.

Girls Gone Wild: Wittenberg

 Robin survived seven weeks of this:

And this:

With some help from this:

Coffee and Kuchen

She also might have decided that she doesn’t want to have children. Thankfully, Laurel and I already discussed long ago that we strive to not be grandkid pushers. 

When Laurel and I first hatched this crazy idea of what I’ll call “borrow-a-niece”, she encouraged me to put Robin to work. I was like, “No, she’ll just have light chores like the rest of the littles”. But then Robin sent me texts like this: “Would any dinner prep be helpful?” And I was like, “yes, we can use all the help we can get.” Did I mention that she cleaned up after dinner every night too?

Thankfully I am smart enough to know that this level of helpfulness is not to be expected from my direct progeny in their teen years. But for seven blissful weeks, I got to live a parenting-a-teen dream replete with some of the funny moments that reminded me of being a teenager with her parents. 

To thank us for hosting, Laurel wanted to take me on a weekend trip. As those in the inner circle know, I don’t willingly travel these days. But Laurel did all the planning and agreed to a slow-paced Wittenberg adventure. Wittenberg is a rare choice for a girls’ weekend, or non-Lutheran travelers, or teenagers. But, I couldn’t let an opportunity pass to visit the heart of the reformation with a besty with knowledge of historical hot goss. 

The trip got off to a slow start when I groggily came down the stairs and realized Laurel and I were wearing the same clothes. I mean it’s a great look.

Pairs well with pork knuckle served with a knife stuck in it. 

I realized I hit the week a little too hard and was going to need some sleep before I could do Wittenberg properly. Laurel and Robin went to the train without me and I head back to bed. Most of Casa Biggs still had a lingering head cold that has yet to be kicked. This trip reminded me that I need to nap everyday. It’s no longer a luxury - it is a necessity. Side note: Maybe I had the adult vaccinated version of whooping cough during this trip. Either way, the daily napping stays.

Anywho, we spent the weekend church hoping. On Saturday evening we went to the English language service at Luther's home church. Sunday morning we went to service at the church where he nailed his 95 Thesis.

Laurel is a sucker for stained glass.

In-between, we looked at pretty things. 

Ate yummy food.

Enjoyed cozy fall rituals.

Robin and I learned the origin of the expression "pulling out all the stops". It comes from organ stops. They get crazy in Wittenberg with the organs. Ever wonder what Taylor Swifts' Shake it Off would sound like on a huge piped instrument? Head to Wittenberg to find out. 

It was a fun and crazy #fourkidsfall. We miss our big sister.

Emotional Blogging

I've always cared more about politics than the average person. My bestie from high school, Laurel, and I even hatched a plan that she would be president and I would be her chief of staff. I think our dream was officially over after the result of the 2004 reelection of George W. Bush. Neither of us could figure out how his cabinet could fabricate a war and then the American people would increase their support for him. The world really missed out on the Laurel/Paige combo as witnessed by an event we crushed last month:

Although, honestly Doo-Kyoung is the special sauce. She is a total pro.

The day after the election I wore all black and cried through my classes. It was a season of mourning and learning; Learning that my hope cannot be in politics. Kamala Harris' concession speech would have done me well at that time. 

Upon finishing college in Seattle, I moved to Washington DC so I could protest in-front of the White House on my internship lunch break, interrupt congressional hearings, and generally "stick it to the man". But after a few months, I looked for a ticket out of the US which came in the form a masters program in Berlin. I stayed out of the country most of Bush's second term before coming back to two glorious Obama terms.

Election Day 2016 Laurel and I did some half-hearted phone banking for Hillary Clinton. Because I'm me, I never stayed on script which might have contributed to her loss. I turned off my phone for my flight from San Diego to Portland. When I touched down, I found out that Trump had won. I declared to my in-laws, who were watching Crosby, that "I'm out." I'm not sticking around to see what kind of USA a sexist, racist, narcissist cooks up.

So yeah, I already had some strong feelings about Trump before he showed himself to be worse than we imagined. I'm as shocked as anybody from a blue state that he won again. I don't have a single family member or close friend who openly supports Trump. Some people would say this is part of the problem, that I'm in some kind of silo. But no, I generally don't connect with people who condone disrespect, toxic masculinity, and unkindness in their everyday lives or on the ballot. My family of origin used to be Republican. Nevertheless, all of them view Trump's incompetence, dishonestly, and temperament as disqualifying. 

All of this was a big intro to - where do we go from here? 

The short answer is we do what we've been doing to cope since 2016. Here's what's "worked" for me.

I have boundaries on my news intake. Specifically, I watch only comedy news. Once a week, Paul and I watch a few Stephen Colbert monologues and meanwhiles. His intro and monologue last night were just what the doctor ordered - mostly because there were no actual clips of Trump saying his usual asinine comments. When Saturday Night Live is on we watch the weekly update. This likely will be my only source of news as they never do live clips of Trump. I don't know if I'll even be able to stomach the cold opens this season. I will keep reading the Local English Language News App. It produces five articles a day about the top stories in Germany.

Because I have the option, I keep working on my German citizenship. If you are an American Living in Germany, the first step is scheduling your citizenship test at a local community college. Like most German things, you'll have a bunch of forms, lines, and need to go there in person. Once you have your test date, schedule a time to see the 15 minute film at the Visitor Center of the Berlin Wall Memorial. It will give you the historical context and then the Einbürgerungstest App will teach you fun facts about how many countries are in the EU, etc. The longer you've been here, the less you'll likely need to study.

I relapse to reading romance novels. I was going to stop, but as my sister-and-law reminded me, they bring me joy. 

If Emily Henry can't take your mind off politics, no one can.

I ride my bike all over town looking for rare antibiotics for my three vaccinated children who still managed to get Whooping Cough. Ok, I don't recommend this as a coping strategy. It was just a small nod to the $hit storm of a week I'm having and a reminder that sometimes Germany isn't a paradise. But generally, I recommend exercise. 

If outdoors isn't an option, Let's Dance delivers.

The most important thing is that I will continue to be thankful for the many joys in my life. Paul and I are in a season of mourning. A dream of a better USA died this week. But, the last thing I'm going to let this tyrant take from me is my joy....or sleep. Speaking of which, I need to join this little lady.

Emotional Eating

In my twenties, I spent more time at my grandparents' house than your average, single globe-trotter. Their home in Arizona was one of the few places I could go for respite. I'd float around with my grandma at the pool, go golfing with my grandpa, and 'visit'. I'd come with a belly full of cookies ready to throw myself back into my uncertain world of trying to find a career and a life partner.

Important side note: This blog wouldn't even exist if it wasn't for my grandparents. My grandpa was one of the few people who encouraged my writing. As my adoring blog readers know, the writing itself isn't my forte. Voice is strong - yes. Photos are on point - thanks Paul! But punctuation, etc - I mean can you even use a '-' like that? 

Back to the point, my grandpa once made a comment about how one day "I might be writing about my life." I don't remember the context but it was a vote a confidence because writing has never been something at which I was naturally gifted. (See, I didn't end that sentence with a preposition. But was it wordy? yes.) 

I started the blog as a single person, took a long break once coupled, and didn't start again until covid. My grandma was locked down, like most grandparents, so I fired back up the blog in an attempt to entertain her. I started posting every week or so. After I had 3-4 posts, I'd print them off, maybe add some kid art, and send them to her in the mail. 

Now my grandma is in her last days. My dad just showed her the last little Biggs' masterpieces I sent. In my current 'happy chaos', I won't be able to make it to say goodbye while she is still alive or likely even attend any kind of memorial. So I'm coping in a way she would approve - baking cookies.

I'm using "her" recipe. Which is to say, one day while visiting Arizona I asked her for her recipe. She told me to go into the kitchen and grab the chocolate chips. Yup, she used the recipe right on the back of the yellow package all those years. Toll House Original 

My kitchen helper was happy to do a run to the grocery store across the street for butter:

It never gets old living in a place where you can give your illiterate seven-year old 20 bucks and ask him to come back with butter and some tea. Hugo: "I can't reach the tea. I'll just ask someone to get me a package with the tree logo that says 'black'."

Once he got home, he got totally distracted taking apart our broken vacuum cleaner. 

But he'd done his part.

Crosby was happy to take over once some other "power tools" were involved:

I made a triple batch with the intention of using cookies as my 'ticket' in the door to see a new baby brother born to Carmen's bestie. Also, we currently have no heating in our building - again - so running the oven helps. My neighbor Val came over to bring homemade brown sugar and help me mix the dough after I sent her this picture to show my awesome spacial reasoning skills.

Triple batch was still a good life choice even if the mixing was a challenge.

This is the point in the post where I should put a photo of happy kids with chocolate all over their faces. But this post, just like grieving, is incomplete. I'll leave you with one of my favorite photos of my Grandma giving me the "something borrowed" on the happiest day of my life.

I love you Grandma. I'll miss you.

Book Report: Everybody Fights

There is so much fighting at Casa Biggs. It's mostly between the kids and me with Robin playing the roll as International Peace Observer. 

The littles are going to be crushed when she leaves in a couple weeks.

The good news is that all three little Biggs have no problem expressing their emotions or communicating their wants. The bad news - well, it is a lot for my only-child peacemaker husband. I'm exasperated, "why can't you get in the fight?" and he's more, "how do we live in peace?". The truth is, contrary to the title of this book, not everybody fights. 

Some, ahem enneagram nines, just avoid conflicts all together. But, fighting is my love language. (half joking) As an enneagram eight, if you aren't challenging me - it doesn't really seem like you're in the game. And so, I read this book in an effort to glean some skills for how to get Paul to fight with me in a way that might be more palatable for him.

The book emphasizes some of the classic relationship conflict advice. Wait for everyone to cool down after the fight to discuss.  Practice active listening - "this is what I heard you say...". Don't tell anyone to "calm down" - instead kindly acknowledge that "this is hard". There are also more gems disclosed during entertaining audiobook banter. These are the top three take-aways that I'd like to employ with my sparring partners:

1. Treat your partner as you would an (American) stranger. 

In Berlin people just give each other questioning stairs. But in the US you make eye contact, greet the person, and maybe even exchange a compliment. I'm often so distracted that I don't do this properly with my people. Also, I've decided after another morning of bleary-eyed stare downs with Berlin strangers, I'm just going to start greeting people on the street. 

"Good day fellow Berliner! Yes, my child is asleep in my bike on-top of a bunch of ballon animals."

2. Tell me more - the new magic words

I get frustrated with Paul that he doesn't tell me what he wants. One of the traits of the enneagram nine is they are generally fine with anything. Don't bother asking where they want to go to dinner. As an eight, I should be happy about getting my way. But I'm mostly just confused - how do you really not know what you want? Nevertheless, when Paul does tell me something he wants, I am too quick to shoot it down. Mostly it's because the idea often adds more work for me. However, if I really want to understand what he wants then I need to ask him to "tell me more".  

3. Make your 'thank yous' more specific

Many days - as Paul as heading out the door - I say, "Thanks for making the monies." But the book recommends mentioning the specific sacrifice the person made and the benefit to you. So I will add, "I appreciate that you work hard so I can stay home blogging and napping off my oncoming cold." Speaking of which, I need to get on today's second goal. Carmen can't have all the fun.