We are officially a house divided. After nearly 15 years of marriage, one lengthy citizenship process, and a few debates, it’s only NOW that I learn, in this contentious election season between Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton, that my husband Martin does not agree with me.
It’s raining like crazy over here in Germany this morning, reminding me of this photo from when we were kids. Somehow, we survived our ’80s childhood and are now both moms in our 30s … only she’s a legit crimefighter and badass who has dedicated her life to serving and protecting others. I’m so proud of her.
Somewhere up at the middle school at this very moment, there is a snail wrapped up in my lingerie.
Apparently, my oldest was assigned to create a snail habitat, so she asked my husband for some type of netting to cover it.
Apparently, he gave her permission to pick something out of my sock drawer, and APPARENTLY, she found the perfect netting in the form of a thigh-high silk stocking. And instead of cutting off the super obvious lace top, my husband and my daughter just tied it in a knot and left it at that.
Apparently, she’s been taking this snail to school like that for more than a week.
Martin gets parent-teacher appointment duties for the rest of the year.
A few weeks ago, Martin spoke with his uncle Rolf for the first time in 30 years. As many of you may know, Martin’s father Klaus passed away when Martin was 6 years old. Due to a variety of circumstances, Martin and his brother were raised with no connection to his father’s side of the family. It wasn’t until shortly before our move to Germany in 2014 that we learned the names of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and we’ve been reconnecting with many of them over the past year.
However, Martin was hesitant about contacting his father’s younger brother, Rolf. He knew that the brothers were very close, and in the span of a few years, Rolf lost both his parents and his brother … how would it be to just randomly show up in this stranger’s life after so many years?
Pulling an all-nighter to compile 30 years of memories into an album for Martin to present to his father’s brother, who last saw Martin when he was six years old. I’m leaving the back half of the album empty with a note that those pages are to be filled with new photos as we make new memories together. Continue reading →
Today’s #TBT photo is from Sept. 5, 2004, when Martin and I drove up into the mountains near our home in Italy for some family photos. This is one of my most favorite photos of Miss C and me. We had just celebrated her first birthday a few weeks before this photo was taken. Now she’s a teenager. It doesn’t seem possible.