3,650 Weeks

When you are 3,650 weeks pregnant, and it’s nearly 90-degrees Fahrenheit, and your adopted country doesn’t *do* air conditioning, you sit under the ceiling fans on full-blast and guilt-trip your minions to bring you fresh smoothies all day.

As a friend of mine said when we bumped into each other, “Ahhh, you’re just a wee slip of a girl!”

Double Rainbow

Gorgeous rainbow over our village!

After nearly a year of planning and saving for it, Martin and I just booked our summer vacation today. Though my daydreams envision something out of a Diane Lane movie, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be more like the Griswold’s European Vacation … you can count on it.

April, April

We woke up to a winter wonderland at the end of April. 

I intended on packing away the snow gear this past weekend, but didn’t get around to it. Good thing! As the saying goes, “April, April, der macht was er will.”

Parenting & the Storm

Screenshot of this evening’s storm.


Forget group hugs and inspirational video memes: I feel so connected to humanity when I hear my German neighbors yell at their kids in public. It’s so universal.


There’s a CRAZY storm outside. I was being nonchalant about it until I went upstairs to close the windows. It looked like Catatumbo outside!

We’re all sleeping in the basement now.