Do the Next Thing

Over the years, I've called my mom countless times, often crying about a hurt, a change, a stressor, a husband, a child. Lately, I've cried (I cry a lot, yes) most about feeling isolated, about familial change, about the persistent cold and grey of life and weather. Some days I wake up and just feel drained to my core. I am overwhelmed by loneliness, by the weather, by distance from family and friends, by the difficulties of life, by a teething toddler. The tasks of the day loom until they paralyze me into inactivity. I often feel so overwhelmed by "being a wife," "being a Christian," "being a mom," or, you know, just "being," that I sit and do nothing, because I am so overwhelmed I don't know where to start. My day is a mirror to my life and I'm not quite sure how to handle either. And so, I call my mom. 

Do you know what she often says? Has said over the years?

Do the next thing.

This is wisdom. A few years ago, this wisdom seemed like a slap in the face. I mean, what about my feelings and the fact that life is HARD? Come on, Mom! Have some compassion. I would resist this advice, wallow in my hard life a bit more, do a bit less, and end my day feeling wearier than when I began it. 

This past August, there was a day when I realized that I had changed a little. We had just moved into our new home in our new village in our new country. All our earthly possessions where strewn haphazardly over every available square inch. Mac was, well, a baby. Ben was off to his new job. I didn't know a soul in our new town, barely a soul at all in the whole country. And I felt so overwhelmed. The isolation choked me, the gigantic task of creating a home out of chaos daunted me so greatly that I laid down on the carpet in my bedroom and closed my eyes. I just wanted to avoid thinking about anything. After about five minutes, I sat up suddenly and my thought process went something like this: "Well, this is dumb. Get over it, Amanda. Don't let this beat you. Get dressed, stop wallowing, and get going on the next thing." And it worked. I got up, got dressed, and tackled my day. Not the whole day at once, but one little thing at a time. 

Do the next thing.

I still wallow. I'm quite good at it. But sometimes, at least more often than I used to, I put my big girl panties on, follow my mom's advice, and do the next thing. Change Mac's diaper. Answer emails. Load the dishwasher. Do a German lesson. Plan our next trip. The weight that kept me wallowing slowly lifts. I get distracted from my problems by very practical things. Joy creeps into the mundane. And as I do each next thing, I find that the duties of the day are less daunting, more manageable.  And, oddly enough, those bigger things that keep me up at night, that are a very real weight to my soul? They are less daunting too. 

'til next time.

Little Big Changes; or Pictures of My Trash Cans

There have been a few changes in my life over the past year. Motherhood. An international move. New home. New church. New friends. Different language. But there have been ways that my life has changed that are so small, they almost aren’t worth mentioning. And yet…these Little Big Changes are worth mentioning because they are the shape of my new life. They affect The Mundane. The move, having a baby...these are events that occurred at one point in time. The Little Big Changes are the consequences, the side effects, the details of the events that actually mean something. So here is what The Mundane looks like these days (just insert "...as I run after a one-year-old" after each sentence to understand what being a new mom entails):

• I live daily life by an audible, external rhythm. Our village church bells chime once for a quarter-past the hour, twice on the half-hour, and three times for the forty-five minute mark. At the top of each hour, one set of bells chimes four times, then another set rings the hour (five chimes for five o'clock). Yes. You read that correctly. Each hour. Even 0300. The bells also peal (loudly, repetitively, beautifully) at 0730, 1100, and 1800. So you see, I don't really need a watch anymore.
• My wallet contains three driver's licenses, two currencies, one military ID, and two copies of Ben's orders at all times. When I'm traveling, I add five passports to the mix (same wallet...it's fantastic for travel). Needless to say, I have never been so well-identified in my life.
• I can't buy anything on base without my military ID and passing military checkpoints is a routine way of life. I also carry a ration card for hard liquor, coffee, and fuel (at American prices, no less). 
• My car now has one of those cool, slim license plates. I'm one step closer to Jason Bourne-hood (cue Moby). The multiple passports help with that.
• I have four, soon-to-be five, trashcans in my kitchen. Recycling is a big deal here, and so I have one trashcan (white liner) for glass, one (yellow liner), for plastics and metals, one (blue liner) for cardboard and paper, and one (freaking regular Glade trash bag) for everything else. And soon, I will add a bio bin for compostable waste. I have to say, I actually enjoy this system. It's like going to Office Depot but in your kitchen...an organizer's dream.

  

  If you use a filter, you can make your trashcans look somewhat more sophisticated.

• My sink and my refrigerator are miniscule. The size of our sink has provoked Ben's wrath on multiple occasions (I challenge you to wash an eight quart Dutch oven in this thing without creating a tsunami on my countertops), while the fridge forces us to eat fresh and shop often. Oh. And stuff it to the brim. We have an American fridge/freezer in our basement, but who wants to go to the basement for food? We just use the freezer...because Germans don't have freezers in their homes. No lie.

  

  This is it, folks!
• My washing machine and dryer are German...and so are the instructions on the dryer. Thank goodness the owner's manual was translated to English. Because what does "Pflegeleicht schranktrocken extra" even mean.
  
• I translate my grocery list (at least the non-obvious things) because I now do all my grocery shopping on the economy (Amurican for "not on base").
• I rarely wear cute clothes (like JCrew or heels or jewelry or Kate Spade or anything else that would totally look great in DC). Granted, I'm not sure if this is because I have a one-year-old and the only people I see on a day-to-day basis are my elderly, German neighbors or because I live in the middle of nowhere and some form of precipitation falls from the sky every. single. day.
• And last but not least...I no longer wear my wedding ring. I know, *gasp.* I now wear a simple gold band because one, Europeans rarely wear diamond wedding rings and I like to (pretend to) fit in, and two, I don't like feeling like a target for theft when we travel.
• I am now very good at driving on insanely narrow roads at decently high speeds. Oh, and roundabouts. We Americans are seriously missing out. I never want to sit through a traffic light again.

Mmmkay. We're off for a long weekend in Paris on Friday. When we return, life hacks for traveling mit Baby. Or, "How To Actually Enjoy a 'Vacation' When Accompanied by a Non-Adult."

'Til then. 

·       

Our World

I’m sitting in Landstuhl, sipping a lukewarm Milchkaffee and soaking in Sun and Alone Time. I’ve been trying to figure out the topic of this blog post since the last one and can’t for the life of me think of something pithy, brilliant, or engaging. So you’re stuck with this super-informative and possible boring post. Many of our friends and family ask us questions about why we're here and what life looks like. And perhaps you have the same questions too and perhaps you want a glimpse of the Mundane Details of our life. I hope so, otherwise this post will be such a waste!

We live about an hour-and-a-half west of Frankfurt in a teensy, tinsy village called Jettenbach. It is literally in the middle of nowhere, only reached by traversing over-hill-and-dale roads. Jettenbach has a population of approximately 800 people, about thirty of whom are Americans, although I never see them. My neighbors are German and I’ve managed to meet a few other Jettenbachers at village fests. It is great for language practice, as most do not speak English. The nearest large-ish city is Kaiserlautern, about forty minutes away. We’re forty minutes from the French border, so really fairly far southwest in Germany.

 The area we live in is dominated by Ramstein Air Base, a massive base near the town of the same name. There are approximately 50,000 Americans in this region and approximately eighteen additional, smaller American bases (a remnant of Cold War era politics). These bases are, shockingly to me at least, still in operation. And so, there are Americans at each base. Ramstein AFB is by far the largest, with a “mall” complete with movie theater and the military’s version of Walmart (the Base Exchange/Post Exchange, or BX/PX for short). RAFB also houses hundreds of soldiers and their families, has a library, grocery store (commissary), post office, bowling alley, Chili’s, Macaroni Grill, elementary school, and a high school with over one thousand students. The coolest part of the base is the massive runway, where on any given day a massive C1-Something-Or-Other takes off on a mission of some sort. RAFB serves as the headquarters for NATO and the control center for Middle Eastern, African, and European military operations. It is also the center of American life in the Rhineland-Pfalz region of Germany. Ben and I are often on base for groceries, a random toiletry, or the gym. It is an odd thing that showing my military ID at a guarded military entrance is a normal part of life now. For geographical assistance, we live about twenty minutes north of the base.

Landstuhl Regional Medical Center is the second-largest base in the region and is about ten minutes away from RAFB. The hospital is placed at the top of a large hill, hidden amidst a forest of pine trees, and overlooks the town of Landstuhl. This is where Ben works and where military members and their dependents receive their medical care. It is also where casualties of war receive care. For example, if a soldier (usually an American but possibly one of our allies or even a civilian) is injured in the Middle East, Africa, or Europe, RAFB sends a plane to their location to retrieve them with physicians and flight nurses on board. They return to RAFB, where the injured individual is transported to Landstuhl for stabilization. If necessary, they are then flown from RAFB back to the US for further treatment at Walter Reed.

There is, as you can see, a large American community here. Some live on base, but most live “on the economy,” in a surrounding German village. People here are quick to help each other, quick to make a friend. There is a sense that we are all in the same boat. We all miss family, most of us are trying to figure out German culture and language, and we’ve all had to build community from scratch. Everyone understands military lingo, which is a language in and of itself. I am just now figuring out what some of the thousands of acronyms mean. Everyone uses the NATO alphabetical system (my last name is Delta Alpha X-ray Oscar November). Everyone is either an Army family or an Air Force family. We all stick out in German culture and are used to constantly feeling humiliated in our attempts at speaking Deutsch (yesterday I told the post office clerk that "I want understand" while what I meant was "I understand a little Deutsch"). We miss the same foods (Mexican), wish Target was close by, and that family was closer. Some Americans really hate it here and count down until their return stateside. Others, most I think, love living here and realize that we have an amazing opportunity to travel and live in Europe.

So there you have it. I hope that this gives some insight into how our life here is arranged, what we are actually doing here, and what the American subculture here feels like. Next up, I'll recount all the little things that have changed my life in a big way.

What questions do you have? I’d love to answer!

Stubbed Toe Syndrome

Dear All.

As I sit tucked away in a cozy chalet in the Swiss Alps, I find it very humorous that we had to come here to finally gain access to the internet. And let me say how very sorry I am that, after starting a blog, I then stopped said blog. It's a pet peeve of mine, that starting-and-stopping of the Cyber World. I can honestly say that I am, however, above my own reproach. Because one must have internet to post on the internet. I know this probably sounds a bit like my last post. Ya  know, the one in AUGUST. But nothing has changed so there you have it. In all seriousness, while it has been nice to be detached from the addicting and perhaps dehumanizing effects of social media (more on that here: https://marshillaudio.org/catalog/topics/media), I've also felt that detachment to be a bit like a stubbed toe. Expectation: walk across the room (book a trip, do the budget, talk to family, answer emails, blog). Reality: take three steps and crumple from the mind-numbing pain of a stubbed toe (drive 30 minutes to sit in the parking lot of the public library, use the internet, and listen to your 10-month-old protest his inactivity). And....repeat. Thankfully, sanity and the internet come in the form of a nice, German Telekom representative on Thursday.

In the meantime, another update (soon these posts will be less update, more stream-of-consciousness...you lucky thing you). Our home is finally settled. More settled than our home ever was in DC, in fact. And I am in love. I've never lived in a place that makes it easy to live, if that makes sense. We have space, a view, quiet, room to grow. It is easy to keep clean and has a cozy-cottage feel. I've spent time making it just as I want. It is now such a haven, one I am incredibly thankful for. Stay tuned for the tour-of-my-house-in-pics/video post!

Fall is in full swing in our neck of the woods. I'm enjoying becoming friends with a favorite gathering of trees and swath of field. Each day brings slight changes to foliage and landscape. Instead of a fall season that lasts two weeks, this season has lasted over a month and the leaves are still drifting and the colors are progressively more vibrant. Most days are crisp, beginning with dense fog, and progressing to a drizzly grey. I'm ruminating on how to best cope with these melancholy days. I love the cozy feeling they induce, but that coziness quickly turns morose after about four such days in a row. My mom suggested having a grey-day ritual. Perhaps turning on a certain playlist at 4 PM every grey-day or making a special drink or something. I'm also thinking about following the church calendar more closely to help the time pass in a meaningful way. Anyway, ideas and suggestions are very welcome.

On that note, I'm going to sign off. As I mentioned, we are spending a long holiday weekend in Switzerland. It is off-season, so the tiny town we are staying in (only accessible by cable-car/train) is mostly deserted. Snow is everywhere, the quiet is pleasantly deafening, the view is breathtaking (and we set it to music), and we're enjoying a slow morning, multiple cups of coffee, our wonderful all-wood chalet, and, yes, internet. But enough of this online stuff. I'm off to read a book.

'Til next time.

A

PS - For reasons I will not go into, I can't upload pics of Switzerland to this post. Check out my Facebook/Instagram page if you are dying to see some.

Yes, I Still Write a Blog

Hello all! Apologies for the super long delay between the last post and this one. Funny thing, when one does not have internet, one cannot post to one's blog. We still don't have internet, but I am wonderfully ensconced in a friend's house (shout out to Leah Starling!) who has fed me lunch (and more importantly, homemade plum tart dessert), granted me access to the internet (aka, Civilization), provided a pack n' play for Mac to sleep in, and turned on American television. *intake of breath* It. Is. Great. I mean, Jimmy Fallon, Jeff Daniels, and Jim Carrey are cracking jokes. 

So here are a few updates, in short-sentence-order. We've moved into our new house and are slowly getting settled. It is a slow process. Ikea and I are spending long hours together, both in and out of store. I've spent many days on reconnaissance missions, trying to figure out what the many primary-colored stores hold inside. I've got a favorite bakery, Barbarossa Brotkultur. I can't decide if I like it more for the ambience, coffee, and fresh pastries or because it is named after a Holy Roman Emperor. Fall is upon Deutschland....it has been downright cold at night. We now have our car, with some damage gifted to us by the shipping company. We have most of our furniture, except the stuff that the moving company lost. We're working on getting internet, consistent hot water, and a washer/dryer combo that does not involve threading a flexible pipe through an open window to obtain dry clothing. There was a full-on drink fest in our village that lasted day and night (mostly night) for three days. Our landlady said she is just now recovering. It was a week and a half ago and she took the entire time off of work. We've made some great new friends (you know who you are) who have supported and encouraged us. I've had several mental breakdowns that have included manic hair-pulling and frantic sobbing and concluded with wine and either an old episode of Community or a walk in the hills. We're going to Scotland tomorrow for five days for some time in Edinburgh and then on to Dufftown for scotch-tasting galore.

The Little Guy just woke up. I'll be blogging as much as I can going forward until we have internet. Stay tuned and don't give up on me.

Reset

I feel as if beginning each post with "life's been crazy, I'm barely keeping my head above water" will eventually wear on you, Dear Reader. And yet, it is true. We moved on Saturday...to our next TLF (Temporary Lodging Facility). From one hotel to another. This hotel is larger, nicer, and a three-story walkup. No elevator. Whomp-whomp. Great for everyday life, not so great when you are hauling six *heavy* suitcases + groceries + various sundries. Ben was heroic and we celebrated his moving prowess with a few episodes of Friends and double cheeseburgers from Burger King. Good news though...I think our furniture will be delivered to our new house tomorrow!!! YAY! Only one more move (it'll be our fourth since June) and we'll be Home. I can't tell you how ready I am to be settled, with my own stuff around me.

I've decided moving is like New Year's but better. New Year's is an annual reset button, full of resolution to be a better version of one's self. Moving to a different country is more of a delete button. Nothing in my life besides Ben, Mac, and our possessions is the same. I've been thinking a lot about this "newness" in life. How we will have to adjust how we live. Living in a village of a thousand people will be a bit different than living in DC. For starters, there's no grocery store nearby, no CVS, no shopping, no restaurants (well, there's the village pub by the pool). No coffee shops (I've been fantasizing about a mocha from Dolcezza every day for a week now). We're building friendships from scratch, we've started going to a new church, we're hopefully going to learn a new language. Simple things like paying a parking ticket (don't ask how I know this) require planning, time, and a lot of effort (mostly because I have no idea what I'm doing and everything is in German). This phase of life feels like a free do-over. The chance to make my daily habits what I want them to be, to live in a way that prioritizes Real Pleasures over easy distractions. And so, here are my priorities, my New Life's resolutions:

• Pray and read the Word more days than not, even if for just a few minutes
• Read...daily, by default. I used to read all the time, but now, my phone is my constant companion. I hate this, but I do it anyway. I've started a Goodreads page to spur myself onward. Or is it onwards?
• Be comfortable in the kitchen and learn to enjoy cooking. I want to experiment with fresh ingredients and be less afraid of failure. I also just want to get better at having a meal on the table most nights. I'd like to see cooking a bit more like Robert Farrar Capon in The Supper of the Lamb: A Culinary Reflection...as an outpouring of God's Creative Goodness.
• Write, often. In journal and blog. As creative outlet and soul-solace.
• Be outdoors. Jettenbach (our village) is tucked in between two hills. The higher of the two boasts park benches with views of valleys, villages, steeples, and patchwork fields. I want to sit and think and read and be. There are also hiking trails about 200 meters from our door. And I want to use them.
• Explore. My village, surrounding villages, surrounding countries.
• Learn German. I realize I won't be fluent. I may not even been decent at conversational German. But I'm going to learn as much as I can and dedicate time to the process. 
• Cultivate ritual with Macallan. Reading, prayer, singing. 

There are, of course, other things on my list (learn basic photography, listen to Mars Hill Audio , make the house a home, start a book club). But somehow, the things above are the most important. In my journal (where this list originated), I wrote, "Overall, a focus on Quiet Creativity and Reflection."

I often fall prey to the notion that if I just live in a certain place or house, if I just follow my rules well, then my life will be perfect. I struggle with that here...thinking that this time I'll get It right. Will my life be perfect here? Will I do these things well all the time? Nope. Do I have to resist the urge to turn this list into a List that dictates my life and highlights my failures? Very much so. But I'm very much hoping these goals can be a gentle guide to a life well-lived.

What are your goals? Your Real Pleasures? What does a life well-lived look like for you? I'd love to hear.

Observations

Happy weekend! After another week of sheer insanity, I slept in and am having a (now cold) cup of coffee while watching Friends. Oh...and Ben is making his super yummy guacamole. Feeling closer to home already.

We've been in Germany for two weeks now and I've noticed some pretty interesting things about Germany:

• Germans are much more comfortable with their bodies and much less concerned with modesty. There are both good and bad aspects to this. Perhaps if Americans stopped hyper-sexualizing the human body we could step away from pursuing the "perfect body" and just be comfortable with how we look. If showing skin is culturally asexual and the norm, is it then also immodest? Perhaps there is an argument that modesty is very closely related to cultural norms. I think that is for another post though!
• Everyone drives a VW, Audi, or BMW. I'm not kidding. In other news, Ben is on cloud nine because he bought a (very used) Audi TT.
• German swimming pools don't have lifeguards. Because it is the parents' responsibility to watch their kids. Huh.
• On that note, there are a lot of really nice swimming pools around. Like this one. Mac and I met some new friends at the Rodenbach swimming pool (the one in the link) on Thursday. It was Mac's first time in a pool and, like a good mother, I did not take any pictures. He loved it though! The swimming pools here usually sport a large grassy park area surrounding the water, several different pools with different depths, a splash park/wading pool area for littles, and awesome slides and diving boards of different heights. It is so cool! 
• German people stare. They just do. It unsettles me and makes me want to disappear. Granted, maybe I'm doing something that is stare-worthy and just don't know it.
• Food at restaurants seems to always be fresh and prepared from scratch, often by the owner of the restaurant.
• I'm not sure why, but Mac attracts much more attention here than in the States, especially from older Germans.
• German toys are super cool. Check out this and this.
• Recycling is a BIG deal. I'm talking four different trashcans, three of which involve recycling of some sort. The trash guys won't pick up your trash if it's overflowing or if you've sorted stuff into the wrong bin. If you buy bottled drinks, you keep the bottles and then deposit them in machines that give you money back. Cool, right?

I'm sure we'll notice more interesting cultural variations. I'll keep you posted! To end the post, I'd like to share the highlight of our week here. We discovered the coolest restaurant around:

Please note the "bam" with an umlaut. 

And the cocktail lounge furniture meets surf scenes meets longhorn skull. Awesome yet confusing. The food was actually really great and we've tucked it away as a new favorite. 

So where did the name of the restaurant come from? Billy the Kid perhaps?! I now have the urge to listen to the Aaron Copland ballet of the same name (one of my all-time favorites, complete with a gunfight-via-percussion). On that note, enjoy the music and have a restful Saturday.

Everyday Amazement

It's quiet in our little hotel apartment. Mac is sleeping. And by sleeping I mean wailing as he fights the inevitable. Laundry, dishes done, cup of blissfully horrible coffee in hand. I woke up this morning and decided that today was a day to sit. No decisions, no rushing, no exploring, no Exciting European Day. Just coffee, Quiet, a good book, and some reflection. And later, the Bachelorette (I'm ashamedly unashamed). 

Yesterday was a thought-provoking day. We decided to take a day trip to Trier, the "Rome of the North." I visited Trier two years ago and it is one of my favorite cities in Germany. I walked the streets listening to lectures on early medieval Europe and immersed myself in Trier's architectural marvels. It was my long walk in the country. This time around, I had company.

Approaching the town square

*sigh*

Mac loved Trier so much he decided to eat his sunglasses, nap, and wear historical garb.

So sophisticated

Super tough Viking

Sir Toodles

Mac tests the laws of elasticity

Trier boasts several incredibly well-preserved Roman structures that are within a moderately easy walk of each other. We only made it to two of the structures this time, but they are perhaps the most striking.

The Porta Nigra

The Porta Nigra, or Black Gate, is a 2nd century Roman gate that contains the remnants of an 11th century church within. I love standing in front, imagining all the people over all the centuries who stood where I am standing and lived life in a way so different from mine.

The Trierer Dom

The High Cathedral of St. Peter is the oldest church in Germany and one of the oldest in the western world. Built by Constantine in the 4th century, the cathedral bears physical witness to centuries of architectural development. 

A Gothic arch replaces a Roman arch (you can see the remains of the Roman on the right and left of the picture).

The original classical architecture can still be seen even though Romanesque, Gothic, and baroque elements were added over time. 

The varied interior of the cathedral

The baroque western apse

The Church of Our Lady, which connects to the cathedral, was built in the 13th century and provides one of the earliest examples of the French High Gothic style. 

Ben takes in the Liebfrauenkirche.

The quiet beauty and reverence within the cloister is deeply moving. 

The arcade surrounding the cloister

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that stuff like this is an hour away from where I live. And that is why yesterday was so thought-provoking. When I visited Trier two years ago, it was a day of wonderful solitude, relaxation, and intellectual stimulation. Because I was on vacation. Now, I live amidst such sights. I am not on a break from my normal life. My normal life, with its struggles, messes, and frustrations, has tagged along. Perhaps even more confusing is that the mundanity of life has tagged along. I still have to feed my son, get along with my husband, and go grocery shopping. This experience is not a perpetual high, although there are flashes of joy. Part of this transition is learning how to adjust my expectations of myself and of my whereabouts. To realize that it's ok to not always be enthralled by my surroundings. To understand that this doesn't mean I don't love medieval history the way I used to. And to accept that a day of Quiet and coffee is sometimes just the ticket.

The Other Side

  
Whew. What a week. Apologies for the complete lack of communication. We've been in Germany for a week now and I'm just catching my breath. And sleeping through the night. Highlights of the past seven days have included:

- Making friends. Mac met two new friends straight off the plane. And as luck would have it, we have spent the week in-processing with their parents!

Note the multiple hands as Mac's new friends (both little girls) "tuck" Mac in.  Also note his nonplussed expression.

 - Jet lag. Or is this a lowlight. Mac did great, Ben and I not so much. We're good now but man oh man.

The faces of jet lag.

- Getting sick. All three of us. Another gift from 33,000 Feet. 

- In-Processing. Imagine you are going to the DMV. Everyone's favorite. And then imagine that you go to the DMV over and over again all day long every day for five days trying to get a form checked off so that Someone sees that your form is checked off and tells you that you are now Fully Prepared for Life in Germany. The most frustrating part of this process is that you are not allowed to do Important Life Things (pick up your car, rent a house, etc.) until you go to a certain class or get a certain form checked off. Which inevitably involves a great deal of waiting room time. 

- Fantastic food and beer. Bratwurst, weissbier, flammkuchen (I haven't forgotten to write about this!), nutella, apple strudel, sauerkraut.

Fun at the faux biergarten on base. We were car-less. Don't judge.

- Selling our house. Contract pending and fingers crossed. 

- Realizing that the military contractor that ships cars *misplaced* ours. They assure us it's not lost. They just have to find the container it is in. Uh huh.

- Finding a home. In a tiny village with rolling hills, a bakery, a butcher, a kindergarten, a flower shop, and a view from our balcony of the town cathedral presiding over the rooftops. More pictures to come. 

On a quest to find the village bakery.

- Mac's first meal. Squash is even less appealing than normal when found encrusted in neck folds. But he loved it! 

- Learning to live on base. We're in temporary housing until our furniture is delivered to our new home. Until then, we're on Ramstein Air Base. (Fun fact: there is no satellite data available for GPS. The location of everything on base has been kept off-grid. Great for the military, hard on a someone who has no idea where they are on a huge base). For non-military folks, there is a commissary (grocery store), a PX (the exchange...the military Walmart, if you will), the Mall (complete with food court, a movie theater, and a Macaroni Grill), a car dealership, and much more. It's Little America.

The town of Landstuhl is to the left (where the US hospital is located). Ramstein Air Base is just above the tree line, center right, below the hills. You can see the clearing for the landing strips and the huge mall in the middle.

Beef jerky with your wine? No?! A Slim Jim then.

 

Our building. We're across the street from NATO headquarters.

- I passed my driver's license exam. Whoopee!!! I'm back on the roads and loving it.

- Surviving 90 degree heat without air conditioning. 

This is what dining al fresco really looks like. He has a diaper on, in case you were worried.

 It's been a roller coaster of a week with several great moments. Finding a house that feels like a home was an answer to prayer. There have been some really funny moments. Like when I was waiting with twenty others to take my driver's exam at 6:45 in the morning after three hours of sleep, saw a lump in my pants leg around the ankle, and pulled out a pair of lady delicates that had decided to stow away. In front of an acquaintance who is now a bosom buddy. Because how can she not be after that. There have been some really bad moments. Tears, anger, frustration. But He is faithful and merciful and for that I am thankful. To be frank, this whole process is really hard. I feel alone, disoriented, aimless, afraid, and just plain exhausted and overwhelmed. This too shall pass. I know. And until it passes, or at least subsides momentarily, I'll hang on tight, take a deep breath, and sip my beer.

PS - Just to prove to Germany that America does not care about soccer, all television on base went out five minutes before the World Cup game started last Sunday. 

So Long, Farewell

Ramstein it is.

It's dark outside, about 10 PM. The terminal sounds like a tired murmur. Everyone here is Waiting. Men in uniform, families PCSing, people going home after holiday. So here we are.

Air Mobility Command. Basically the military terminal.

This week has been a flurry of goodbyes, hair-pulling frustration, countless anxieties, sleepless nights (hence the lack of posts). I'd rather not repeat this week. As soon as we boarded our shuttle, a weight left my shoulders. It's time to get on with things. Go on to the next thing. Go on an Adventure.

And we were under the weight limit.

The funny thing is, five years ago, DC was our Adventure. I remember loading up our cars and driving across the country, one mile marker at a time. To be honest, I hated DC for a long time. I hated the distance from my family, my friends. The aching loneliness and the feeling of being out of control as change happened all around me. But now. Now DC is Home. So much has happened here. Ben and I were two years married when we moved here. Now we're seven. We grew up here, fought here, learned how to love each other here. Ben went through residency, became an attending. I went to grad school, transitioned to a different career, followed a dream. We made friends. The best of friends. We found a church to worship in, one that taught us to cling to the Rock of Ages. We found places, haunts, we loved...a coffee shop, a favorite town, a yearly beach destination. We bought a house. We brought our son home. And now, we say goodbye. It aches. Thankfully, I'm so tired the ache isn't bad right now. That, and trying to get your six-month-old to sleep in an airport requires a great deal of mental and emotional energy.

Do you see the tiny, dark shape by the left stroller wheel? That's Mac - not sleeping.

Our flight leaves in an hour. We'll land around 1 PM local time at Ramstein Air Base, where we'll stay for a month in a base hotel while we look for a rental home. First up, pass the German driver's license exam. Imagine...no sleep, jet lagged, and 168 German road signs to identify. *Facepalm*

To everyone who made DC home...thank you. We'll be back.

See you on the other side.

Ready for an Adventure.