Deutschland

This month we took our first family trip. Max, who has so far barely been outside of the apartment, can now say that he’s been to Frankfurt. And that he has ridden the Deutsche Bahn (train). Unfortunately we never actually ventured into the city itself. This trip was strictly business, filled with government buildings, security guards, and metal detectors. But life can’t always be a party.




Elizabeth and Max and I left on a Sunday, and from the get-go we had delays. Delays are always expected. Trains here are notoriously problematic (Cue an American saying “But I thought German trains were known for their reliability,” followed by laughter from any and every nearby German.), which is why Elizabeth built an entire extra day into the schedule as a buffer. Anyhoo, we missed our connection, so Deutsche Bahn shifted us onto another train—without our seat reservations. For new seat reservations, we needed to go to the other, alarmingly overcrowded, helpdesk. Well, 40 minutes later, we were no closer to receiving help, but it was time to catch our new train, so we had no choice but to risk it without reservations. Which is usually fine.

No. With a baby and no seat reservations is decidedly not fine. The three of us sat on the floor blocking the toilets and busy exits, all while Max was losing his mind.

By the time we arrived at the hotel (the replacement hotel, because our AirBnB had bailed), it was later than scheduled, but it was still early enough to find a nice restaurant for dinner…as if that were going to happen. Instead, we enveloped ourselves in the privacy and comfort of the hotel room. We ordered room service and bought sodas from a machine, where Elizabeth got an apple juice soda (Whatever you are imagining, this tastes better than that.) and I tried the new Coke Zero Sugar. I prefer Coke Life. Max likes milk.

The next day started well enough, with a “free” breakfast buffet at the hotel. Plenty of decent food to choose from. Breakfast would’ve been better, though, had we sat in the right place. After 15 minutes of being eyeballed by the wait staff, a waitress finally approached us and said simply, “You’re not allowed to sit there,” as if we were insolent teenagers trying to make her life harder. I didn’t care. Just as long as she stopped withholding my coffee.

It was finally time for the US Embassy. (Or, we guessed it was time. Since we didn’t have our cellphones—which are strictly forbidden at the US Embassy—we actually had no idea if it was time to leave or not. Turns out, it was not. But leave we did.) Oddly enough, the US Embassy was the best part of our Frankfurt trip. Elizabeth had prepared more than the required documents. The staff processed us quickly and courteously. People with infants are rocketed to the front of any line. It was great. Max should expect his US passport in 2 to 3 weeks.




Just like on Sunday, Deutsche Bahn tried to suck out all of our joy, this time by kicking us out of our reserved seats on both trains due to faulty air-conditioning. (Unrelated but worth mentioning: at the train station where I ordered myself coffee with a small amount of milk, I once again received a giant cup of hot milk, because Europe is an evil, evil place.) Boy was I smelly by the end of our trip. At least we weren’t sitting on the floor. And praise all of the gods that Max enjoys watching scenery buzz past the train windows.

Aside from that Frankfurt trip, days all tend to smear together in a delirious fog. With not enough sleep, and with very few breaks for Mama. But we are surviving. Game of Thrones helps. So does The Defenders. The US news does not.

Hi Internet People

I have very little non-baby news for you. But I’ll fluff it up to balance out this post.

My parents visited for the first time in July. I thought they were coming in order to meet the baby, but they clearly came for Elizabeth and me. For two whole weeks, they pampered us by letting us sleep, cooking dinner, washing the pots and pans. I doubt life will be so easy ever again.




Very regrettably, I had to duck out halfway through my parents’ visit for a business trip…to Kentucky of all places. Elizabeth was understandably frustrated, as was I, but my parents didn’t let on to their frustration. In fact, rather than get mad, they embraced my departure as an opportunity to further help Elizabeth with the baby. They took what would’ve been a stressful time for Elizabeth and made it relaxing, a few times even going grocery shopping alone. Eventually they left, as well, leaving Elizabeth alone with the baby for 9 days. If you want details on that, you know who to ask.

Kentucky came and went in a flash. My flights were on weekdays, and I often worked late and then attended work-related evening activities, so I barely realized I was home. But it was great seeing the people I did see. Instead of a hotel, I stayed in my parents’ empty house with Buddy dog. That was nice. Buddy and I managed lots of little walks despite the mightily oppressive Kentucky weather. Without Buddy, I probably never would’ve ventured outside.




When I returned to Germany, everyone was alive and happy. Well, except for me since I didn’t sleep on the airplane. Never do. I watched Split…which I do not recommend, and I finished Lonesome Dove (the book). Today, though, everything is back to normal. The new normal, which involves significantly less sleep than the old normal. Elizabeth and I will get the hang of it eventually.

Yesterday I started reading The New Jim Crow for my book club. In general, I’m not reading as rapidly as I had been the first half of 2017, but I’m doing my best. I chalk it up to exhaustion. Even though I’m not busier (I’m arguably less busy), my mind is too muddled to process silly things like words and numbers. I like pictures now.

On a related note, my German language skills are plummeting, which is funny because, if you’d asked me earlier in the year, I would’ve said that my German “couldn’t be worse.” Well, it can, turns out. My only consolation is that I can pass on the lessons I’ve learned: Not everyone can learn a language from 3 years of immersion. Not everyone can learn a language from a year of private classes. Not everyone can learn a language from 1000+ hours of Duolingo and Memrise. In fact, some people may not be capable of learning another language at all, especially when they never learned one during school. Maybe it’s just me. I refuse to chat or socialize with anyone in any language. It’s a wonder I ever learned a functional amount of English. The worst is at the office. There, my silence is absolute because I don’t want my coworkers to speak in English, because it reminds me of how miserably I’ve failed. I’d rather keep in my silent bubble forever. I wonder how I’ve warped their perception of Americans…




Running is not going well. I’m on the hook to run a 10 K leg of a 50 K team race. This is the same race which I ran with Other Kyle two years ago, and so I know what I’m in for. The race is a hilly mess, and it will be the end of me. My team this year has particularly high hopes, which stresses me out because I’m not likely to meet expectations. It’s not such a big deal, I guess. The most I can do is report my current progress to Gerhard and let him decide if he wants to cut me. (If I’m cut, I wonder if I’ll be stupid enough to run the 50 K alone.)

That’s all for today. I’ll throw in some pretty pictures if I think of it. Until next time!

Hi, Everyone. I’m back from Munich, where, at my wife’s insistence, I crashed Cousin Liz & John’s anniversary vacation. I fought against the trip at first. If my cousin’s anniversary wasn’t reason enough to fight against it, there was also 3-week baby Max to consider and my mother-in-law who was also visiting at the same time. But in the end I caved—because of course it was going to be excellent.




I lucked out with the weather. While Cousin Liz & John got caught in 95 degree heat and in thunderstorms, Munich welcomed me with a mild 80 and sunshine. Cousin Liz booked Monday and Tuesday day-tours for us to Hitler’s Teahouse and to Salzburg, so all I had to do was sit back and let myself be entertained. It’s significantly more relaxing than assembling an agenda from scratch. Both tours weren’t Munich, sadly, but I’ll be returning for another round in September for Oktoberfest with Eric. Or…Septemberfest? Which reminds me: I need to practice up. My alcohol tolerance these days is quite low, and Eric would never let me live it down if I were to drink one Radler and then tap out.

Salzburg was a significantly better tour than Hitler’s Teahouse, in case you’re interested. Obviously, Salzburg is an entire city full of artists and shops and life, whereas the Teahouse is just a teahouse. But also, I found the bus ride to Hitler’s Teahouse wildly duller than the train to Salzburg. Though, perhaps I just like trains. However, Hitler’s Teahouse earns a point for its scenery. The view from up there is spectacular.




Among us in the tour groups were mostly Americans—like the kind who recline into your face and then get offended that they can feel your breath. There was also a talkative young man from Israel, and he told us all the story of how he once bought a wheel of cheese—impressed by its rock-bottom price—only to later find out that it was butter all along. Butter which he then sold door to door. Don’t buy butter from strangers.

Even though the 3 of us spent most of our time on tours outside of the city, we probably spent 5 hours or more each night exploring Munich. Cousin Liz & John were impressively energetic considering it was week 2 of their European vacation. In Munich we saw churches. I rubbed a fish statue for good luck. We visited the Marienplatz, where we witnessed a political protest monitored by 20 or more heavily armed police officers. We took the U4 to the English Garden—without incident—and watched surfers on the manmade river, Eisbach. We ate dinner downtown at the unfathomably crowded Augustiner Keller, with its 5000 person (!) capacity, and so now Cousin Liz can say that she’s eaten at an authentic, surreal German beer garden. And each morning we ate hurried breakfasts from the same vendor, who happened to have the best slogan: “Where it smells and tastes.”




I’m still exhausted from parenthood. This trip has highlighted that for me. In Salzburg, after doing some bad math, I argued with a lady about it for five minutes. But in my defense, she had become belligerent first, and I was the customer who had already given her more than enough money. (She was after specific coins of mine. It’s not as if I was trying to shortchange her.) Argumentative and brain-dead…My coworkers are going to love having me back in the office on Monday.

Now the 3 of us are back in my town of Schwäbisch Gmünd, the Oldest Staufer Town. I got to say goodbye to Carole, thankfully, and then early tomorrow Cousin Liz & John will start heading back home, as well. In the meantime, Elizabeth (and Max) and I are taking turns showing Cousin Liz & John around town—Heilig-Kreuz-Münster, Marktplatz, Stadtbibliothek, Naturatum—and making pit stops at the apartment to tend to laundry. They have done an impressive job sampling the local cuisine, trying even foods that they are guaranteed to dislike. Last night they survived the loony waitress at Kunst Genuss. (When John ordered Ravioli, her response was “No. Penne.” When Cousin Liz ordered still water—but received sparkling—our waitress argued and insisted that she gave us still water. I promise that these were not translation errors.)  And tonight we might try Paulaner Wirtshaus followed by Eissalon Venezia. It looks like they’ll be opting out of Döner, unfortunately. More Döner for me.

By Monday my life will have returned to normal: No more working from home. No more eating at restaurants. No more reading or traveling. I’m sad to see this chapter end. It suits me better than a cubicle. I think Elizabeth has enjoyed it, too, having me around the apartment instead of whittling away my hours in the office. Well…I’ll just keep my fingers crossed that I don’t die before I retire.