Spring Is Here, So We Have Beer

Alright, it wasn't beer, but soup and virgin apple spritzer. We did sit outside on the patio of legendary Suppenküche on the central market though. Most cafes and patios were packed, as well as hangout square Gärtnerplatz. Here Karl just tried Fred's old Bavarian style pancake soup and wasn't quite sure yet, if it was superior to my Swabian dumpling soup or not. He switched back and forth all through the meal, but in the end it was a tie.

If There's A Strike, We Take Our Bike

Yesterday the Munich public transportation system went on strike yet again. Unfortunately the cold and rainy weather wasn't the nicest starting point for a bike ride, but since we're not made out of sugar we chose this mode of transport over an hour long walk. After a little helmet drama Karl actually quite enjoyed the change from the tram. More than me probably. He kept pointing out to me most of the cars in the street (dadüh), trees (ba) and birds (baba, which comes from the sound ducks make – Karl doesn't discriminate between birds) by hitting me on my back. So that was an interesting conversation we had there. And when we were back home he also pumped some air in the air.

Fasching

It's carnival in Germany and Karl had to be dressed up to go to his daycare center today. In case you can't figure out his costume: he went as a green Lego brick.

Hiding

When is the weather finally getting better? Yesterday it was so nasty that Karl went into hiding in a corner of the bathroom so that he wouldn't have to go out. He still had to though and he hated it with all of his heart. Where is global warming when you need it?

Before And After

Yesterday it was Karins turn to have her apartment taken apart by Julian, Theo, Ferdinand, Julius and yours truly. They did very well: in a record-breaking time all shelves were emptied out, tables were climbed and cake crumbs distributed. So all in all it was a very productive afternoon for a bunch of crazy toddlers.

It's Called Snow

By now there's a lot of it.

When Did Whiny Become The New Cute?

Oy, the sounds of a wailing toddler. How do they hit that exact pitch to make adults wince and cringe? And of course react with immediate surrender (yes, of course I'll carry you/hand over the chips/go another round on the swing/let you pet the puppy). Karl definitely does not enjoy the wonderful fresh powder we got around here. The whole walking in the snow deal immediately results in a wide variety of shrill sounds, so it'll be a while before we can start skiing lessons. All things bouncy and rocky reconcile him with the small outdoors right away though.




Even better though - all things bouncy and rocky in the toasty conditions of the great indoors. It's a bit troublesome that he now can climb the rocking chair all by himself. And the table, the other chairs, about the stepladder we know already. Combined with his new "full ahead" speed mode it can turn an afternoon home into quite a workout. Now a great two weeks of hanging with Karl come to an end though. Tomorrow it's back to the office. For all three of us.

Cars That Are Red

The mission was to find a noisy toy for Karl, since he'd gotten such a kick out of Ferdinand's sound-book about the noisy little firetruck. Which was harder than I thought, because Munich's big toy-store seems to cater to either creepy bespectacled nerds who like to build really authentic train, plane and automobile models, or granola hen-mothers who judge the educational value of toys by the joylessness of the design and the priceyness of the wooden materials they're made of. After all the cheapo Japanese toys for the few toys-r-us-type customers in their tracksuits already malfunctioned on the shelf, evil playroom-imperialist Fisher Price saved the day (again). It's big! It's red! It's plastic! Making this winning trifecta (see most favorite toy ever in the background) a surefire gift for little boys is the function that plays a different siren or truck noise whenever you push the flashing lights. Which Karl's been doing continiously since last night.

Swagger

The secret to a truly impressive swagger later in life is of course to start early. First you have to develop an attitude that nothing and nobody can faze you. That includes snotty little boys who think they have the right to rock the rocking horse, just because they got to daycare early. Second you have to practice, practice, practice. Walking in slippery conditions helps, since it forces you to balance from one foot to the other. Next - leaning in your highchair as if you're lounging at a bar with Sinatra. You could of course also go and really hang at a bar so you can learn from the elders.

There's a Riot Going On?

The big annual protest march came through our street. The one they always have for the Munich security conference. This year the black block came out in force, followed by the usual mix of die-hard commies, union groups, clowns and puppets. Clowns and puppets notwithstanding, Karl actual liked the black block best, because they played really loud music and the kids in black were framed by riot police in dark-green. Quite a sight. With all the noise and funny looking people Karl thought the whole march was a riot. Pun intended, although Munich marches tend to be quite mellow. I was actually surprised how mellow, considering that Ms. Merkel and Mr. Obama are currently messing up Karl's generation's credit rating for good. No fightin', no burnin' and no lootin'? Not even a bit of property damage for good measure? At any rate, in the end the whole bullhorn-screaming only raised a baby's eyebrow and a faint smile. He much preferred landing his airplane on our coffeetable.

Lazy Afternoon

Now that everybody is kinda getting back on the health track that flu wave has one rather pleasant side-effect: a string of unplanned lazy afternoons in Munich. Most of all appreciated by Karl, who loves that undivided double attention of two parental units spending lazy afternoons building Lego structures and slouching over to the playground. Alright, we're kinda leaving out the feverish whining part and the sudden wails in the middle of the night that came with Karl's on-and-off trysts with some nasty micro-critters floating around here.

P.S.: Talking about Lego - Christoph Niemann recently resettled from NY to Berlin and came up with this unbelievably charming sublimation of homesickness on his blog on the NY Times site Ninja has sent us. We feel your pain, Christoph! We had built some Lego brownstones ourselves.