This was a huge month.

At the start of this month, we had verifiable good news – we’d be moving to Munich! Of course, by then, you were all comfy at Oma and Opa’s, and quite frankly, we were dreading pulling up your roots again, but it would have to be done, and so we were eager to get it done and over with as soon as possible.

It looked, in the beginning, like we’d move into a house, and so Papa and Mama scoured the Internet for leads on where would be good to live. Munich has great public transport, but we had no intention of getting a car, so we’d have to be very careful. Fortunately, we were able to come up with some reasonable possibilities fairly quickly, and in short order, Papa and Opa were planning a trip down to have a look and see what seemed reasonable. It went really, really fast.

Now, normally, Mama would have gone with Papa on such a trip, but there were some complications the Internet doesn’t need to know about, and in any event, I didn’t like the idea of leaving you for three days. So Papa and Opa went on their own, and you and I decided to have an outing somewhere, because Mama likes to travel, and you just like trains.

On Papa’s advice, we ended up in Gerolstein, which in addition to making tasty mineral water is quite lovely.

Of course, Papa neglected to tell me that the only way to the hostel is to walk there from the train station (no big deal, but it is a ways away from the station) and that it is at the highest point in the city (and is a very steep walk up in the summer heat), but never mind that – we went to have a good, relaxing Mama-and-Baby time.

And that we did!

First, of course, there was the family room you and I got, which effectively meant bunk beds and new closets to explore, something you just can’t resist

Hehehe... you'll never find me in here...

Family room in Gerolstein - regular hostel room, but we moved a bed up to the side of the bunk so Torsten wouldn't fall out

But the town is beautiful and quiet and there’s lots of forest and nature outside, and so we did our best to enjoy that too

Youth Hostel Gerolstein

There was a sandbox which your cars immediately decided they should play in…

Sandbox

And of course the requisite swing, which you could see from our room window and made you very happy…

Torsten's really getting the hang of these big boy swings

Lots of room to run around, which is a large part of the reason why we came here to begin with – by this point, you’d gotten so competent at walking that you had started to really run, and you needed space to develop coordination.

View down into Gerolstein from the hostel

And of course, you explored the hostel as well. One of the best things about the place is that there was plenty of room for you to explore without Mama holding your hand or being right next to you.

Wandering around the youth hostel in Gerolstein

We played a lot of hide and seek, too

Hide and seek with Gerolstein in the background

And you just had a great time. Mama had a blast watching her little guy able to be so free as well.

Here I come!

Flying by

We took a couple of nice forest walks as well – at this age, you’d discovered you could push your own stroller and liked to push it along with Mama and Papa, so the trails and roads at the time of the hill/mountain through the forest were perfect.

Forest walk

We walked to a little chapel not too far from the hostel together.

Zur Bueschkapelle

Forest walk

Forest walk

Bueschkapelle

Torsten, running around at the Bueschkapelle

You, of course, wanted to break in

Torsten storms the gates

Forest walk

In the stroller, at the end of our forest walk

There was a lot to see, and the forest was cooler than the rest of the town (and most of the rest of Germany – it was hot everywhere while we were there), so we had a good time. (N.B. The bare feet in the picture above came after T had given up on walking – he has big feet and doesn’t really enjoy shoes much…)

And so we had a couple of days of just playing and walking and running around and eating, and with the exception of a really creepy 8-to-12-year-old girl who actually hurt you and who I got the distinct feeling enjoys hurting animals when her parents weren’t looking (I can’t really explain this except to say that when you mean one of these people, you just know), it was a lovely time. Very relaxing, and it helped Mama unwind, which, I think, also led to a happy Torsten.

Happy fun Torsten!

Superguy (and his chipped tooth)

And happy Torsten you were! When we got back, we got the news that Papa and Opa had found a house – the details just needed to be sorted. This was very exciting indeed, because it really was moving quickly, though because the house was partially unfinished (very common in Germany these days is to finish everything but the floors and a few details so that the buyer can customize at buying time), there would be some lag time before we could move in (possibly as late as November). Mama wasn’t too thrilled about the lag time, but one accepts what one has to, and really, this all was happening very fast.

Except that over the course of the next few days, as legal details were discussed and other people’s involvement and desires became clear, it became clear that this was, in fact, too fast. There were some costs, some monetary but mostly other, that were difficult to overcome and that we at some point decided they were too much to pay, even if they were within our means. And so Papa and I found an apartment online, and made the crazy move of arranging to rent it sight-unseen and move in a few days later.

Because what the three of us really needed was the space and freedom to be our own little family again. Don’t get me wrong – you were having a fantastic time at Oma and Opa’s and they were extremely accomodating in having us in their home and helping us prepare to move, etc., but it was definitely time for us to have our own place again. And so Papa and Opa loaded up a truck full of collected furniture, Oma and I loaded a Torsten into his stroller, and Papa and Opa drove to Munich while you and I took the train.

This time, however, there was no Kleinkindabteil. And you know what? You did wonderfully You drove the guys in front of you nuts by opening and closing the trashcan 50,000 times, but, eh, isn’t that what little guys do?

ICE from Wuppertal to Munich - Torsten reads the worst pop-up book IN THE WORLD

And about six hours after we left Wuppertal (we were delayed because, joy of joys, the entire network in North-Rhine Westfalia was having trouble and the ICE wasn’t allowed to go over a certain speed limit), you and I got off the train in Munich. And about 40 minutes later (after buying tickets and figuring out where we were going), you and I got off the S-Bahn in the city where we now live. And 5 minutes after that, we walked up to the front door of our apartment building, and I do have to say…

We made the right decision.

The estate our apartment is on has playgrounds and places to run and bike and generally be a free little kid. The city we live in is not only super-convenient (everything is walking distance), but lovely, quiet, and really made for children. We effectively have a yard without having to care for one, we have quite enough space in our apartment for all of us, the view out of our windows is nice, the neighbors are good and they all like you, and we are all just generally happy here.

I worried that the move would unsettle you.

I was wrong… you settled right in. Of course, it may have helped that your Tante Conni came down the first day to help us out as well – she was not only a terrific help, but you fell madly in love with her (again).

Torsten charms Tante Conni

You haven’t stopped talking about her since, which, at the time of this writing, is now three months ago…

Come with me, Conni!

So then we began the process of getting settled in. Our things (books and computers) from Denver weren’t there yet, but we still had a bunch of stuff that had been collected and waiting for us that Papa and Opa had moved in and which had to be assembled.

You were having a great time exploring (and wrecking) the house, but there were other adventures too. For example, for the first time in my life, I had a toddler and no kitchen. Now, I knew European apartments did not come with built-in kitchens (oh, there’s a room there, but nothing else), but I’d never thought about the challenges of feeding a kid for a month with only a microwave, a coffeepot, and a waffle iron. (N.B. We did survive.) And then… then there was The Hair Incident. Now, you may remember that last year there was a Hair Incident ™ that had nothing to do with me, but this time, well… Papa and I are probably equally culpable.

Your hair, dear son, is very fortunately tempered by your father’s genes, because in most respects, it’s all Mama. Oh, it’s mostly straight and it’s not nearly as coarse, but thick and unruly? Yup, that’s the hair.

And while I’m not of the school that says kids must get their heads shaved the minute their hair might possibly accidentally get in their eyes, Torsten’s was getting thick and floppy and, well, let’s face it… it was starting to get ideas. And we couldn’t have that.

Now, I’m just not a buzz-cut fan. I’m really not. I have a lot of reasons for this (at least half of this is because the boys at school I knew with buzz-cuts were inevitably bullies), but it certainly wasn’t a look I planned on for my sweet-faced little guy. Everytime we got your hair cut, I’d say, “short, but not too severe”, and generally, I got what I asked for.

But you really needed a haircut, and while I may not allow Oma to deal with it whenever and however she pleases, it is my job to make sure you can see, and it was definitely getting in the way.

We were trying desperately to be careful with money, and since your father had raved about this trimmer he had been using at Opa’s and it was hot outside, I decided we could just put it on its longest setting and cut your hair with it, knowing that the buzz-cut effect would soften eventually.

This was a fine idea, except… the trimmer we had was not in fact the one your father had been talking about. It was an old one with dull blades and which was, for all intents and purposes, broken.

Unfortunately, it was not dull enough NOT to cut any of your hair, and in between our attempts to cut your hair down with the awful scissors we had in the house to help the trimmer get through your thick locks and the actions of the trimmer itself, well, let’s just say that anyone who got too close to your hair would have thought you’d had an accident.

With a lawn mower.

And so, in the end, we ended up getting your hair cut anyway. The stylist was remarkably nice about it, and very nice to you, but by this point you were terrified of haircuts after the home experience (I had sworn I’d never cut your hair, and I’m right back to that promise now), and so you cried the whole time, and the dude crooned to you in his thick Bavarian dialect, and in the end, it all turned out ok.

Yo.

No really, you didn’t even need the hat. See? Cute new haircut, which I have named “The Bavarian Bruiser” in honor of all of the bullies I have known.

Not that you look at all like a bully… you still look just as sweet, and I don’t know what I was worried about

New haircut!

Mama can't resist me in a hat.

A lot is different about your new home than in Denver, and it’s taken you some getting used to.

No backyard, for example. And a very high balcony to make Mama nervous, especially since you like to launch things off of it when you think no one is looking. Unfortunately, you’re damned fast.

Out on the balcony

Oh, and thanks to Papa, you make Mama nervous by climbing up on the balcony table, as well. You are intrepid most of the time

Unapproved activities out on the balcony

And you want to get into everything.

Getting into stuff

And then you manage to look innocent and cute when you get caught!

Who, me?

Well, ok, you are innocent and cute.

Still can't refuse that smile anything...

Of course, life is not all moving and haircuts and stress. We’ve started to do things to explore your new city as well.

For example, we’ve been to the zoo, where you terrorized/stroked baby goats and sheep

Torsten, Mama, goats and sheep. And sh*t.

Torsten knows the word "gentle", but sometimes he needs a reminder...

You were trying to be gentle, but Mama had to work a little to keep your enthusiasm under wraps.

And you did try to kick a goat for walking away from you (we think), but you weren’t successful, and it was just the once…

Bah, those sheep are boring. Time to find me some new sheep.

And then you saw this goat on a rock and decided that you and he could be buds.

Ok, so here's the plan... while everyone watches Billy break into the feed machine, you and I will make a run for it..

Torsten demonstrates "gentle"

Chillin’ with Da Goat.

Torsten and his new goat friend

In addition to zoo trips, Papa got a new bike seat, so it was time for bike rides again, something that makes you both very happy. Riding in back is a bit different, but you seem pretty chuffed about the whole business. I know Papa is…

New biking world order

In spite of everything, you’ve settled in so well… you’ve turned into this funny, sweet, intrepid little guy with tons of personality, and we adore you.

To be... or not to be... that is the question

(And yes, those are Mama’s glasses. Your eyesight is just fine.)

Of course, you’re going on two, and the tantrums can get a little ugly…

Ah, let the tantrums begin...

But two seconds later you’re back to climbing and trying to take over the world.

Whoosh... he's up, and your computer is in danger...

Hey little guy? We did it!

Welcome to your new home

Love,

Mama