(As usual, the password to view the video is “smurf“)

Click here to view the embedded video.

(It should be noted that it is very hard to send your very heart off for quality time with folks who don’t like you very much, but T deserves a shot at a good relationship with C’s parents, so I support it – this doesn’t make it easy, but I’m sure he’ll have a good time.)

Anywho, here are a couple of pics of the awesome Mr. T from the train trip up to drop him and C off. I didn’t cry until after we parted ways in Cologne, at least…

I miss you, Boo Boo Bear…

Posting has been at the bottom of my list for several reasons (below the cut, for your reading pleasure):

1. I was looking, desperately, for both work and childcare. In Germany you can’t get a childcare slot, reasonably speaking, unless you have a job. And you can’t get a job unless you have childcare. Catch-22.  Fortunately I had excellent and concerted help from several people, and in fact was able to find a slot much more quickly than I could have dreamed because of it, but it was a busy time.
2. I found childcare. This means there is an “adaptation phase” (“orientation phase” sounds like a better translation, actually – “Eingewöhnungsphase” in German, at any rate), which means that Torsten and I go together to his new caregiver for a few hours a day for a couple of weeks, and then I start disappearing for more and more time. So far, so good, though it got interrupted by other things (see item 5 below).
3. I found a job right around the time 2) happened. This is a very happy thing indeed, not just because I needed a job, but because it’s really the job I want, and I get to do my PhD using both tracks of my skillset. I’m quite happy with how it’s turned out, but there was a lot of paperwork involved (in bureaucratic German of course), and so that took a while… I haven’t started yet, but I will soon. In the meantime…
4. I have an active child who is nearly two. Enough said.
5. We are recovering from what is likely that sickness. I have never been so sick. Torsten was super-sick for about 48 hours and then seems to have bounced back no worse for the wear, but it was scary enough. C and I are still clawing our way out of the tail end of it. It is horrid. Horrid horrid horrid horrid. Don’t get it if you can avoid it. I could not walk straight for two days, and breathing? HAH. It sucks. That is all.
   
6. Um… laundry?
7. I’m sure there’s more, but because of 5), I don’t have the mental faculties remaining to remember any of it.

I know I’m behind on Torsten posts again – the pictures are all queued up, and if I haven’t gotten the posts ready by Saturday night, I’m just going to post the pictures with no commentary and be done with it for now, because I have a bunch of technical reading I intend to do to get back up to speed with things, and on top of that, Torsten turns two a few weeks thereafter and I want to be all caught up by then. Because really, this is ridiculous (Also, um, NaNoWriMo starts November 1st. Ahem.)

Anyhow, no one is dead here (though it felt like a close thing), and maybe someday I’ll write again. I’m just not under any delusions that it will be with any degree of regularity. Except for a November lull (where “lull” means flexibility in my “too much to do” pile, not absence of things to do), my life is only going to get busier from here on out.

On the other hand, I will admit that it’s going to be nice to be both Mama and Krista again.

We went to the Oktoberfest yesterday morning with the T Monster just to have a look around and had a great time. I, the only drinker among us, unfortunately did not have any beer, mostly because it was 10 am and I didn’t really think my stomach was up to it, nor did I think the boys wanted to sit around a beer tent for the extent of time it would take me to drink a liter of beer. Also, I don’t like drinking alone.

There is always next year

In the meantime, though, here are some pictures I took as a means of trying out a new gallery plugin. Note that the thumbnails below generally only show a part of the picture, and captions are only available by scrolling over a thumbnail or actually viewing the gallery by clicking on one of the pictures. Also, both my camera and my photography skills suck. Anyway, enjoy!

(Edit: Cut inserted to protect feed readers from having to load a buttload of pictures at once! Click through to see the pictures if you can’t see them below…)

[Show as slideshow]

Whew. This has quite seriously been a month for the record books.

It started with us coming back from Europe – we left with a baby who couldn’t crawl yet,  we returned with a baby who could easily take over the house the moment we had our backs turned and rewire the nearest electronics into sentient toasters. I know everyone says to childproof your house before the baby comes, but really, who listens to that? (Hint: not us.) We’ve kind of fenced in the living room for the time being and put foam down on the floor, because we were having a really hard time listening to your poor little noggin hit the hardwood floors every time your attempts to stand failed. You still hit your head on things, but it’s much less awful this way.

Crawling Torsten on the loose!

Beware the wild Torstens at the Grothoff zoo...

(Note: much more below the cut for those who can see it. If you don’t see anything at all after this text, please visit the original post to see the rest.)

You are really, really close to walking, kiddo. It may not happen for another couple of months, who knows, but you zip back and forth along the couch as if there’s no tomorrow, and you sometimes forget to hold on to things as you walk along. Papa apparently walks you up and down the hall at work, with you attached to his pant legs, and you are forever trying to bridge the distance between two places you want to be by holding on to as many things as possible so that you don’t have to crawl. More and more often, you’re successful, even if that means letting go for a second or two.

Up on two feet, all by myself...

This development, along with the fact that your first tooth is in, but you have five more coming in at the same time right now, has meant bad, bad things for Mama and Papa’s sleep. See, we don’t do the “cry it out” thing. Not at all. And we really don’t mind that your crib is in our room either, or that more often than not you end up in bed with us at 4 am after sleeping for several hours in the crib. Old Mothers of Doom, say what you want about it, but that’s the way we do things here at Haus Grothoff. Things have been this way for a while, and it’s been mostly fine now that you’re older.

You can see the new tooth on the bottom in the middle if you look closely...

Well, except for now. See, those teeth thingies? They hurt. And having five coming in at once on top of the one that has just broken through is really not fun for small monsters. So in spite of the fact that we do give you Orajel at night (which does help you get to sleep some nights), at some point, you’ve had it and you need cuddling, milk, rocking, or whatever. This alone might be OK, but add this to the fact that you stand up and walk around your crib when you wake up crying (thus waking yourself up even more), and you get a Mama and a Papa who are spending an awful lot of time with Torsten at night.

We get standing monsters in the crib at all hours...

Back in June, you were getting through the night with one, maybe two (and occasionally no) night waking(s). In fact, since Papa and I divide the night shift at 3 am, it was often true that we’d end up alternating your single night feeding on one side or the other of 3 am, so one of us often had the opportunity, occasionally, to sleep without interruption (although since I get up with you bright and early in the morning, I still ended up exhausted most days…). It was getting better. But then came the teeth, and the walking, and the readjusting to life back in Denver, and so now we’re back to the old days of not-so-much sleep.

Now Internets, I know you have Theories about The Right Way to Get Babies to Sleep ™. I know you do, and the reason I know you do is I read lots of opinionated posts about the subject from various people for whom Book X and Approach Y worked. Goodie for you. I am of the opinion, after seeing how many babies on my pregnancy board are no longer sleeping through the night (and how many have never done so), as well as reading friends’ blogs and discovering that their older children have never slept through the night no matter what they’ve tried, that if those things worked for you, great, but it’s mostly a matter of luck. I can recall being three or four and still bugging my parents all the time at night and the early morning (which is probably why I walked in on them “wrestling” once, but we won’t go there…). So I suspect we’re in this for the long haul.

At least someone's sleeping (Moomintroll, not Mr. T)

But I digress. (As usual…)

We’ve also realized that you’re really a sturdy guy now, and because you’re so much bigger than other babies (and you’ve had a lot of body stability for months now), we can do some things with you that we might not have felt comfortable with when you were smaller. Like biking.

Papa loves biking more than anything (except you, and some days, Mama ). He has a not-so-secret desire to install a rocket-propelled grenade launcher onto his bike to eliminate all of the cars going by (thus making more room for bikes), and he bikes everywhere. He even biked down Sunset Blvd. in L.A. every day when he was at UCLA, which is an insane way to get yourself killed. Fortunately, he survived, and he is a lot more careful now, because…

The well-protected Grothoff boys...

That’s right. Torsten is now bike-ready and sits in his seat on Papa’s bike to go in to work with him once a week. You sing and look at everything and are very, very happy about this new mode of transportation – the only thing you hate is putting on the helmet, but once you get going, you even forget about that. The only thing cooler than biking with Papa, I think, is biking with Papa while Mama bikes next to you. We did that through the park and you couldn’t quite figure out what was going on – Mama had to bike in front of you guys just so that you didn’t squirm your body around in the seat to figure out what Mama was doing on wheels.

Torsten is clearly the real operator of this wheeled conveyance...

Papa and Torsten return... on wheels

Let’s see – what else… ah yes. You have discovered the joy of blowing raspberries on everything, especially (but not limited to) bellies, shoulders when you’re supposed to be going to sleep, and (for some reason) the couch. You even aim for Mama’s tattoo once you decide, yet again, that you will not be able to pull it off of her ribcage, and that tickles like crazy, but you and Mama and Papa giggle and giggle and life is good.

Ptttttthhhbbbt!

Genetics at work - he acquired at least one trick from Mama, at least

In fact, the giggling is one of the best parts of you right now. You’ve discovered how to play and have fun like never before. You chase Mama around and around the recliner, and usually you figure out just when to stop so that you can turn the other way and catch me. I’m so proud of you for having learned how to trick me at such a young age, though perhaps I shouldn’t be You also talk and talk and talk, and you actually sound like you mean what you’re saying, though I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s awesome, though, and some of the things you say sound more and more like “Mama”, “Papa”, and “ball”, so we know you’re on your way.

Multitasking for babies: making a mess, feeling the new tooth, and giggling, all at once

There’s another first in here this month which Mama is loathe to talk about (see this post for the story), but it turned out OK in the end, so I guess it’s all good. This month, you got your first haircut.

Fuzzy baby on the way to his first haircut

Pre-haircut baby from the front

Pre-haircut baby from the back

You were awesome – you got to sit in a little car while the stylist cut your hair, and you were such a good boy. She had all sorts of cool tricks to keep your attention, and in the end, we got a cute little boy with a frighteningly grown-up haircut.

Torsten and Mama wait for the haircut. (Mama's the one having the bad hair day...)

Not afraid of this haircut thing at all...

Hey baby... wanna take a ride?

Snip snip snip...

Distracting the subject with a hair clip...

And a little off the top...

Voila! So grown-up...

You’re such a big boy now, much bigger than the other little boys your age. Poor you… Every time we go to the playground, some desperate mother with a bored, crying baby will see you, and I’ll hear, “Hey Max/Sam/Ethan/Dylan, look at that little boy in the swing! He looks like he’s about your age!”

And then I have to break the bad news. No, my baby is not as old as your 18-24 month old baby. He’s just looks that way. He’s 10 months old and he’s got a very, very tall Papa. At that point, it breaks into short mommy small-talk and she and her little boy go away. I’m sorry about that – but since you don’t walk yet, there is a limit on the rough-and-tumble you can tolerate, so I go for full disclosure.

And then there’s the other side – we meet up with a family that has a 7-12 month old, and you are SO much bigger that although you’re old enough to play, they look at you warily like, “You will CRUSH my daughter.” And I just want to say, “But he’s a very nice boy!” And you are! Last week, you met a 7-month-old at a debate watching party and you were at least twice her size, but you were sooooo gentle with her, even stroking her hair sweetly instead of pulling it (unnatural for you, and I cannot say the same for what you did to the cat…). You’re a really good kid.

Mmmm... stroller... delicious!

Thank God our playgroup starts next month, seriously, because you love and need other kids, and it appears the playground ain’t the place to find them just now. Maybe when you’re old enough to SAY “I will crush your son” it will be ok.

But it saddens Mama, because you’re a sweet little boy, and you need the company of other babies.

Of course, you don’t mind – you’re perfectly happy having Mama and Papa as playmates, but we think it’s a good idea for you to, you know, get out and socialize more. (If I’m not, someone has to!)

Papa instructs Torsten in the art of nectarine-eating

Just like Papa...

Yummy, even if I can't take real bites!

I know I say this all the time, little guy, but you’re growing up so fast, and you really are an amazing kid. Pretty soon you won’t be a baby anymore, but I’d like to hold on to Baby Torsten for just a little longer if it’s ok with you

Cookie monster!

I love you very much!

Mama

So I still haven’t gotten my slew of Mr. T pictures posted (I have posts nearly ready to go, but things keep getting in the way of me finishing…), and I haven’t written anything of substance here in months either.

Life has just kind of been like that of late. I just wrote the nth email unintentionally containing less-than-complete sentences (where n is greater than 2 and I am too tired to mourn that there’s no way to get those emails back), I lost my wallet on the bus the other day and had to cancel all of my credit and debit cards (though I’d like to shout a big thank you to the kind, anonymous person who dropped it into our mailbox yesterday completely intact), and I went to the doctor today forgetting I had neither debit nor credit cards and was  thus forced to have them bill my copay because I am one sleep-deprived dingbat. On top of that, some days I walk out of the house with my shirt on backwards (which is an improvement over my first three months of motherhood in which I more than once nearly answered the front door without pants), my clothes are usually coated in various Torsten-related substances anyway, and I’ve totally turned into the kind of person who says things like, “Damn you kids, get off my lawn!”^[1]. Well, ok, I say things like, “Guys, it’s 2 am, come on,” in my grumpy old mother voice, shouting out the window to the noisy new neighbors. Same diff. The point is that I’ve been out of it. Yeah, I win.

There are a lot of reasons for the lack of writing and the scattered brain – Torsten is huge and capable and implementing his world takeover scheme already, exhausting both Mama and Papa (And thank you, JoAnna, for warning us ahead of time about tall babies and doorknobs! Taking care of that early has been a lifesaver… we’ve been calling him Houdini since about birth, and he shows no sign of stopping with his evil mechanical escape tricks), I just got back from four days away taking a big-assed German exam in Chicago, the evil husband has been working his butt off and teaching a lot of hours, and there simply aren’t enough hours in the day for two people to get all of the work done (though Torsten, who’s almost 15 months old now, actually helped his Papa sweep the kitchen today, so that’s something .

It’s not all bad news, of course – we’re finally able to handle the above, even if we’re positively loopy some days. Having an older child means it’s becoming easier to start doing some things for grownup Krista as well as being Mama, and that’s a very happy thing indeed. There are some big things in the works, actually, but that’ll have to stay cryptic until I have some more information. In any event, in spite of me having Mommy Brain something awful, things have finally started to come back together on this end.

Of course, that’s no guarantee I’ll actually get pictures up soon, but it does mean I’ll try

Anyway, for those who just can’t live without their dose of Torstenosity, here are a few tidbits:

• T has grasped the concept of binarity and can say (and understand) up and down, off and on, open and shut (which, amusingly, does not sound like “shut”), in and out (where “in” is usually the occupied bathroom, and “out” is where he’s supposed to be), etc. This means lots of flipped lightswitches and slammed cupboard doors, but it’s neat to see that he gets it.
• He has become Mr. Climbing Monkey, and he is totally silent when doing things he probably shouldn’t be. This led to Boudreaux’s Butt Paste being smeared all over our very high dining room table and the things on it, and us not noticing when he did it. He’s good.
• Torsten is still the most awesome kid ever, and has learned how to give big smacking lovey kisses to Mama of his own accord
• He now plays lots of clapping games, and he hasn’t tried to beat Mama for singing “If you’re happy and you know it” yet. Yet. This is a major feat for a baby who loves music.
• He’s not a real fan of eating. Unless it’s something we are eating. As I tell Christian when I steal his chocolate, “stolen tastes twice as good,” and apparently T agrees.
• While I was away, he actually bitched me out on the phone before bursting into tears because I was gone. You haven’t lived until you’ve been told off at length on the phone by a 15-month-old.
• It’s official – he now repeats the worst things Mama says, especially when driving. Mama will have to finally clean up her act. Boo.
• He’s still the biggest flirt ever. Ladies everywhere are no match for the Toothy Grin of Torsten ™
• He’s very tricky when playing games, sometimes legitimately tricking us. We’re in so much trouble when he can talk…
• He has a bunch of teeth, all the better to eat you with!
• He is still the nicest baby in the world. Really. He loves to snuggle and kiss and giggle.
• Mr. T loves books. This makes me incredibly happy.
• He has finally sold Mama on Elmo, because he loves Elmo so very much. This is as far as I am willing to go – there will be no trading up to Barney, the Abominable Purple Dinosaur.
• He can climb up and go down the big kids’ slide at the park by himself. Of course, we’re always standing nearby to catch him, but it’s cool.
• He’s about the size of a two-year-old, which makes squirming at diaper-changing-time not fun.

These random tidbits of Torstenmation have been brought to you by the letter T and the number 0.  I make no claim that anything in this post has made any sense whatsoever.

Anyhow, Saturday is tentatively looking like a good day for me to work on Torsten-stuff, so I may get more posted then. But don’t hold your breath – Mommy Brain is insidious and might cause me to spend the day snoozing instead

^{[1] Does anyone know where that phrase is from anyway? I see it everywhere and have no conclusive answer. (And if you say “Gran Torino”, you are too young to answer this question.)}

Dearest Torsten,

Mama has really sucked the last few months and didn’t finish her seven- or eight-month updates. Part of this is because we were in Europe with minimal internet access, but most of it is because I’ve been just so busy with a certain Mr. T to get them finished. I’m not going to try to take too many bits and pieces from what I did write, because it seems a bit silly now, but what I can say is you have blossomed since my last letter to you.

Surprise!

Seriously – wow, have things changed. Two months ago, you were only sort of able to roll around and rotate on the ground to get to things, and it was mostly random. Even at eight months, when we were just leaving for Europe, you seemed to be only minutes from crawling, but still hadn’t managed to get any forward momentum.

But then… then Mama took off to London for five days. And when I came back, you came crawling across your grandparents’ floor, squealing with delight that it was Mama and that you could get to her all by yourself.

And then, oh boy, was it ever on.

(If there’s no more text showing after this, click on “Read more” below (if it appears) or the link to the original post to continue reading this entry…)

Now you zip across the room, pull yourself up on whatever is convenient, and walk around cruising the furniture, often forgetting to hold on and giggling the whole way. You pull things down to see how they work (you are obsessed with wheels and all things mechanical), you shake things if they won’t move and are in your way, and you use anything you can find to pull yourself up on if you are inclined to stand (such as Mama’s hair and her nose). You walk with help and get better every day with it, and are often to be found walking around your crib staring at the sleepy adults in the early morning, smiling your huge beautiful smile when you see we’re awake and reaching up to be picked up for a hug. You squeal with delight at that first morning snuggle, and while I hate getting up, I absolutely love your joy.

You’re no longer our little baby – in fact, you look a whole lot like a two-year old in size, and people go nuts when they realize you’re not even a year. It’s all genetics, so we’re not worried, but you are a big guy.

A big cute guy, I might add.

Cutie pie

Still, you’re in the 95th+ percentile for everything but weight (you’re still, regardless of what your fat-obsessed grandmother in her expert medical opinion has decided, right at the 50th percentile of the CDC height vs. weight curve, and you are perrrfectly healthy!), but completely proportional, so people just don’t believe you’re only nine months old. It makes buying clothes hard, and it’s sad because you physically outgrow age-appropriate toys too quickly (the beloved jumperoo had to go when we returned from Europe), but otherwise, except for Mama’s back, your height isn’t an issue at all. Look at it this way – you can ride roller coasters with Mama way before the other kids

You also have a knack for charming the ladies that I fear will come back and bite us. Not only do grandmothers everywhere gravitate toward you (regardless of where they come from or who they are, I might add – you got a run-by kissing from some weird old woman in the Dortmund train station that seriously freaked Mama out), but all the little girls (and quite a few of the little boys) think you’re awesome just because of your pretty big eyes and really want you to play, even though you don’t know how to chase and run and play with them yet.

Whee, Papa!

Truth be told, I know I’m biased, but you are a beautiful little guy, and that makes me a little creeped by some of the people who decide they simply must be near you (especially on the bus – weird old men who are fascinated by you are not cordially invited to sit next to me). I understand the compulsion though – you’re not only cute, but you have a bright, sunny, hilarious personality, and you laugh with your whole heart, even when it’s just because a couple of ladies near you are having a conversation. It’s amazing to see people who mean to be dour and removed walk past you and break into smiles in spite of themselves. It’s really cool, actually, and it makes me miss you so much when you’re not around, even when I’m desperate for a break.

Let’s see… what else… You’re still teething, although those bottom teeth are finally on their way in. Papa and I were in no hurry to see you have teeth – we both got ours quite late – but you’ve been in pain for months, and those guys have been slow to come in. Soon you’ll have Teeth of Chomping™ (+2,+2), and I suspect we’ll all be happier for it, even if miserable for you counts as a good day for many other babies’ countenances.

Teething cookies rock!

You took your first big trip ever in July and August as well, flying from Denver to Munich to Helsinki, and then taking the train all over northern Europe before flying back to the U.S. You did amazingly well (and on the way back, much better than Mama and Papa did), and all I can say is that you appear to be a Travel Baby. You charmed all of the Lufthansa staff (and by the way, to anyone who has to fly overseas with a baby, fly Lufthansa and ask for a bassinet/seats in the infant row – the staff were amazing to us and the bassinet was a lifesaver, unlike the situation and staff at United…), slept almost the whole way overseas, flirted with other babies on the plane, and generally enjoyed yourself everywhere. You did look a little overwhelmed sometimes, but for the most part, you were great – and I think you had a great time. I certainly had a great time with you, and the German relatives appear to all be in love with you, which is great – the more love you get, the better How could anyone not love you?

Torsten sleeping with a seal at Tante Ulli's

So much has gone on that it’s hard to remember it all. You love to talk and sing, especially when the stroller is going over bumpy ground. You sing “la la la la la la” when you’re happy, shake your head and say “nonononono or neinneinneinneinnein” (or variations thereof) when you don’t want something or are being silly, and have said “Yes” at least once when I told you you couldn’t have something you wanted. “Mamamamama” has been a constant staple for a while now, and increasingly actually means me (or occasionally something else you want), and “bababababa” sometimes means Papa, sometimes means bottle, and sometimes means nothing at all. Given that you’re growing up bilingual, I’m sure there’s a lot I won’t notice as easily, but that’s fine, the German half is Papa’s job Not that we’re expecting words yet anyway, but it’s still cool

The best talking story of course is when one of Oma’s friends asked if she could steal you and take you home and you shook your head and said a very clear, “Nein!”. I doubt you understood what she said, but I think you did realize she was going to pick you up. She’s a nice lady and all, but she can’t have you

You are truly a sweet bundle of personality now, and you have a very funny sense of humor. You know how to make us laugh, and you delight in doing it. You also know how to let us know when something doesn’t suit you, even if you sometimes let us know that by crying at something that doesn’t directly impact you (like, for example, the ceiling fan not moving – you only do this when you’re very tired, but it’s still funny).

Torsten does his Bam-Bam impression (sorry, Patrick)

Looking back at your pictures, a lot has happened in the last three months.

We celebrated your first Father’s Day:

Making the Papa's Day Cake

Happy Papa's Day!

And Papa had a whole week away from us, which exhausted us both:

Torsten, passed out in the jumperoo

You went from pushing up and rolling just a little on the floor at six months…

Torsten, almost crawling - but not quite

To scooting all over the floor at around eight months…

Scootin' Torsten

To sitting up all on your own and crawling at nine months.

Torsten sitting, nine months

You occasionally try to feed yourself while Mama’s back is turned,

Torsten shows Mama how one really does eating right

and you want to eat whatever we eat.

Torsten attacks a plum (with no teeth)

Mmmmm popsicles...

You love, love, love to read books (especially Rainbow Rob, which makes you squeal with glee), and you can now turn the pages for Mama with a little help.

Torsten and Mama read Rainbow Rob in Munich airport

You and Mama have stormed your first castle…

Torsten and Mama at Turku Castle

Torsten, storming Turku castle

Torsten, storming Turku castle

Taken your first long-distance train rides…

Torsten and Papa on the train to Turku

Sailed on a big boat in the ocean…

Torsten and Papa on the ferry to Sweden

Torsten and Mama on the ferry to Sweden

Torsten and Mama on the ferry to Sweden

Torsten and Christian on the ferry

Gone swimming (sort of) in a Swedish lake…

Torsten takes a swim at Claudi's

Visited Mama’s faaaaavorite park in her faaaaaavorite city in the world…

Torsten in the Vondelpark

Travelled the world…

Torsten and Papa on the plane to Munich

Torsten at the bus stop in Turku

Torsten attacking Moonintroll, Naantali

Torsten, crashed out at Frankfurt airport reading Papa's iX article

And basically become a huge, wonderful little boy who almost isn’t a baby anymore.

Give me a hug, Mama!

My old au-pair friend Anna, whose middle child just turned eight, told me not to blink.

I can totally see where she’s coming from.

Torsten and Mama in the late-night sun shadow in Finland

I love you!

- Mama