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.

Trip to the Country

We're behind posting. This trip already happend last Sunday, but since Karl got such a kick out of visiting his grandfather in the lakeside town of Seeshaupt this has to be posted anyway. The main source of kicks was of course another source of noise he was able to produce himself. The fact that he was able to hit clean quints and octaves on the piano should not be overestimated, since I doubt he was neither aware of the harmonious qualities of those nor the disturbing qualities of the massive atonal chords you can produce with an open babyhand strategically slammed on the black keys.

He also took a walk down to the lake, which is a good 500 yards he almost mastered all on foot. The trek was well worth it, since he got to watch a flock of ducks sleeping in the waves (which you can kinda make out in the higher res version behind the post when you squint and look near the horizon).

Excuse Me, Could You Repeat That?

Thank you, Ferdinand, for showing Karl how exciting books can be.

A Village For The People

With Karl and me being stuck at home for almost ten days (today he's back at the daycare center, yay!) I had a lot of time to work on my baby architect skills. And now, with Lego in da house it's even more fun – well, for me at least. Just wanted to share a couple of designs that I managed to archive before they were torn down, since our son is still training his eye for modern architecture.



Although they're not completely congruent our collection of three Lego people (construction worker, fireman, EMT) reminds me of these people here. But that's just a wild association.

He Calls Him Mama

Because he can.

Reconvalescing II

After not being able to walk or laugh or anything on Saturday, I figured I should really go see a doctor. It's actually quite impressive what a very sick, catatonic child can do to your feelings and actions. I was pretty much ready to hurt people. Like all the other people driving cars through the city, the people in the long line at the pharmacy, anybody who would have rubbed me the wrong way. They were lucky though and thanks to the wonders of medicine Karl had a superspeedy recovery and is not only able to walk and laugh again, but also to climb ladders.

Thank you for all your good wishes!

Reconvalescing

It took Fred an emergency trip to the weekend medical service of Karl's pediatrician and Karl a few spoonfuls of strawberry flavored chemical bombs to restart his studies in deconstructivism and the aerodynamics of toys. So there fly the Lego bricks again, proving that velocity of matter mustn't be a question of age or height. Much to the delight of his relieved parents.

Karlsick

Is there anything worse than a sick baby? In the world? I don't think so. Poor little puppy.

Walk In The Park

Today, after I picked up Karl from the daycare center we went to the doctor to get him some shots. I sort of knew that he wasn't in his best shape so I didn't put my hopes up too high that he would actually get them. This is the fourth time we're trying – he's always sick. Never severely though, it's usually just some sort of infection he picks up from the other evil children he spends half his day with. So again today the doctor looked at him and told us to come back some other time. Fine. At least we got some fresh air at the park on our way home. While I was still putting on my jacket Karl walked away whithout any interest in his stroller or my arms. Bye bye! He walked back to me when he noticed I was taking my time though. Probably only because he remembered that he would need me for the free tram ride.

Coffee and TV

Well, the moms had coffee and the boys had TV. One of them figured out how to turn on the TV to catch the latest episode of Forbidden Love. Finally we found something to keep them occupied while we are chatting!

Fearless for '09

Karl would wish you a happy new year, but since his concept of time is so far based on meals, naps and outings, he might as well tell you about those. He could quote Franklin D. Roosevelt, who is a very timely quotee these days. That whole thing about fear. Fear being a very overrated reflex, especially when there's frosty playgrounds to explore where few competing kids are hogging the swings and slides and playhouses these days (their parents must all be wimps or too hungover from all the holidays).



Yesterday the whole fearless thing got a bit out of hand though. When I brought out the stepladder to decorate our kitchen with tasteless shiny New Year's party decorations, Karl took the initiative and climbed the first step. We belittled his effort as a mere baby-step, which just could not get further. Ever the macho boy Karl proved us wrong and climbed the whole ladder all by himself. When he had reached the summit he started to rock and shake the whole thing. I did act as a safety, but he didn't really notice.

More stunts to follow. Because we party like it's 2009!