Political Science Prep

During my check-in with our au pair today, she admitted that dinner time (which I missed due to traffic this evening) was exhausting.

“J didn’t want to eat what I made for him. He started listing the foods he WANTED to eat, but I told him none of those were options. Then C tried to negotiate with him, but he wasn’t having it. So then L tried to negotiate with him, too, but I was like, “You guys! You can’t negotiate with him!!! He eats what he gets!”

So I was like, “Amanda, aren’t you majoring in political science when you go to university? I promise, this year with my kids is going to prep you in SO MANY WAYS. Once you figure out how to wrangle them in, trust me, international politics is going to be a BREEZE.”

You’re doing GREAT, Amanda! THANK YOU!

Dinner with Love

Due to circumstances way beyond my control, our plans for Family Day at Frühlingsfest were a bust. Martin and the kids had spent the afternoon prepping the dirndls and lederhosen, so I even suggested they go without me when I called from work.

I mean, Martin spent hours hand-sewing ribbon back on one of the girl’s dresses! After his own day at work!
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Language Development

They say just before 10 months of age, the expression of emotions becomes more complex. And he’s beginning to understand language, but can’t yet use the words himself. Nevertheless, he makes himself quite clear.

(He wants another corn puff.)

Last of the Season

These are the last quarkinis of the season. I’m so sad, but it’s probably for the best. I was reading online reviews on various home gym equipment to figure out what to order for our home gym.

Me: Which do you like better, free weights or machines?

Martin: Food.

Yeaaaa…

Sweet Life

Quarkinies are life. They are much denser than American doughnut holes because they are made with quark. No filling: just a sweet ball of fried dough sprinkled with sugar, and only made this time of year. Perfect — absolutely perfect — with coffee. Ahhhhhh.

They are so good, I sing three notes as I give them to the kids. Jaz asked why I do that.

“That’s not me. That’s a choir of angels singing their praise.”