19 Months – The last month in Denver

(N.B. Written more than three months after the fact. As usual, late.)

Dearest Torsten,

I think this month must have been one of the most confusing of your life. It was rough on everyone, and this time, you noticed.

Oh, it started out ok, and you were cool with life, your daily trip to Sherice’s, and everyone making trouble around the house. Even though you and Mama were getting on a plane on the last day of the month to fly halfway around the world together, there was a lot to do before that, and the havoc started at the beginning of the month.

At first, it was the usual playing and troublemaking… as I said in my previous month’s letter, most of the changes were taking place in the basement, where you rarely went. Upstairs, all was as usual.

Super T, in the kitchen

But a few days into the month, things started to disappear.

Like the couch.

You know, the couch you played on every day and climbed on every day and even watched Olbermann with Mama and Papa on every day?

You went off to Sherice’s one day, and then the couch was gone. This kind of shook you up, and you started being a bit more fussy. Then again, so did everyone. You were really starting to talk and eat and be yourself, but at the same time, the world started to shift under your feet, and it make things hard.

And then, though, we all got sick. Really sick. As in I-think-we-had-the-swine-flu sick. (N.B. After I wrote this bit, we appear to have gotten the actual swine flu, much later, so I guess it was just some random nastiness) Boy, were we sick. So sick, in fact, that you stayed home for a few days with Mama, even though she really needed the time to pack. Sick Torstens are sweet and cuddly and lovey, but it’s just hard to watch a little guy be so ill.

Sick as a dog (swine flu or allergies? No one knows...), cuddling Papa's Australian penguin

I admit I probably missed more of Torsten this month than I would have liked. We had to take you to Sherice’s for more full days than usual, and we were busy busy busy trying to make sure stuff got boxed up and administrative stuff was in order and all of that.

Still, we got to have some fun in the house, even as furniture continued to disappear…

While Papa is away, cute Torsten (and his toothbrush) will play!

Teethy grin! (Unfortunately, mere weeks after that, one of your beautiful front teeth got chipped...)

How can anyone resist this guy?

When you have days that look like this, and random strangers are popping by all the time to take stuff (some of it yours) away, it does tend to upset your sense of equilibrium, though, and at some point it became unavoidable that you were in the middle of it.

Selling off your life sucks.

There were a lot of lasts this month.

Last times in our favorite parks, last times seeing our friends, last time playing in the backyard…

A last look at the backyard

Hardest on you and Papa, however, was the last time riding with your first bicycle seat. For a long time, you and Papa had been riding around Denver with you sitting in front of him, singing and watching and enjoying the view, and Papa was really sad the last time he got to ride with you before he sold the seat…

Papa and Torsten return from their last bike tour with the front bike seat

Biking bliss - hi Mama!

Still hating the helmet, after all these months...

And of course, any time with Papa has been good time. Papa’d been very busy all quarter, and at the end of last month was in Germany giving a talk; a week before we left the house to go to Germany, he was away again, this time in Brazil, so buddy time was precious. (It always is )

Best buddies forever

Farewell

In addition to being sick, it was also hot in our oven-of-a-house, and so Popsicles were in order. You decided that any and all popsicles must belong to you, and preferably one in each hand, so Papa got smart…

Heat and recovering from illness/relapse made popsicles a must

Lime is yummy, even for sick, tired little (and big) monsters

No one wants a dangerously hungry Torsten Monster on their hands.

RARRR! Now you see how I got two... I scared Papa and stole his as well as my own. And I'll chomp you too!

The last week was the worst, frankly, for all of us. Our caregiver had a family tragedy, Mama needed to get rid of all the furniture and finish packing and cleaning, Torsten needed a lot of love and reassurance, and did I mention Papa was in Brazil?

Mama was going nuts. And you were not unaware that things were not all ok. Fortunately, you were very sweet and accomodating, and there was one benefit – all the stuff being gone gave you a lot of room to play.

Hardest for me, strangely enough, was saying goodbye to the rocking chair where I’d put you to sleep almost every naptime and bedtime since you were born. The damned thing squeaked, but it was our snuggly cuddly place. No more was I going to be able to pick you up, put your too-tall-for-this form across Boppy, give you a bottle, and sing you to sleep while we rocked, head-to-head or head-to-shoulder or head-to-neck.

Byebye, rocka-rocka chair...

But in the end, we did get it all packed up. Towards the end, you were at Sherice’s all day, and then Mama would take you out until bedtime, since the house was so disasterous and so much needed to be packed. The last day, you went to Sherice’s, and we cleaned out the rest of the place and all headed to a hotel. Papa asked if we should bring you back to say goodbye, I figured that since you were boarding three planes alone with Mama the next day, you didn’t need anymore shocks to your system. Mama was ready to cry, Papa was jetlagged, and you were confused, but in the end, we made it out of Denver.

Table gone, chairs gone, high-chair disassembled... what's going on here?

The flights really went as well as could be expected, but it was still tough. The only real trial was the domestic flight from Denver to Minneapolis. It wasn’t actually hard to fly with you, it was just really hard to get your carseat settled on the plane, and the Northwest stewardess wasn’t really all that nice about it (and let’s not start on the passengers, who were downright evil. I’m not sure what they expected from a solo-travelling woman with a toddler, but you put up with it a lot better than I did, because you are an awesome kid The Icelandair staff on the first overseas flight were at least super-helpful about it, even if it was an annoying thing to install. I’d done as much homework as I could do about it, but it was still a real pain.

In truth, you slept through a lot of the first two flights (and the entire flight from Minneapolis to Reykjavik), so I can’t complain. There was even a playground in the airport for our long Minneapolis layover, although a bunch of high school students came in to try to take it over. It got much easier when the Icelandair staff, even when I told them I’d bought a SEAT for your carseat, told me the plane was too full for me to take the seat on. You’re so big and I was so tired that I just thought, “Hell, I’m not going to fight this, I’ve been dreading installing that thing again for the past 6 hours”, and so I let them gate-check it and you sat happily in your seat with your seatbelt on and played cars until we got to Frankfurt.

I’d never want to try to entertain a toddler on a plane again (your favorite thing was dropping your cars where Mama couldn’t reach them and then crying when they were gone), but it went as well as it could have. That said, 24 hours of solo travel with a little guy is NRBM (Not Recommended By Mama) in terms of sheer stress on the parent’s part. It’s not like I could sleep

Anyway, in the end, we got here, and we got you here, which was one of our biggest objectives. Papa met us at the baggage claim (after dubious negotiations with the customs and immigration folks to let him reenter), and Opa was waiting to help take our luggage, and the three of us and our Mountain of Luggage ™ got on the train and met Oma in Wuppertal.

I have to admit to you that at the end of it all I was so tired I didn’t notice was what going on to be able to tell you about it, but you were happy to see Papa and Opa, and in the end, we all ended up tucked into bed upstairs in Wuppertal, not travelling any longer.

We may not have had a permanent place to live (or even a job to come to), but we did have a place to rest for a little while, and boy, did we all need it.

I think it’s worked out for the best, though, little guy, and now that you’re thriving here, I don’t regret it for a minute.

Lots of love,

Mama