Every day I live a double life. In one life it's 2012 and I am changing your diapers and trying to figure out weather to sign you up for Tumblastics. In the other you are all grown up and I'm an old woman looking back on our early days together. At least once a year I used to ask myself a silly question. Why am I here? When you came along I got my answer: To love you and to make your life as wonderful as possible. 

But now I have other questions. Why can't I have a remote control that would stop time, run it in slow motion or even rewind, so that I can replay these incredible moments with you over and over again? Why are you so gosh darn beautiful? And can we always be as close as we are now?

I love that for the last 2 years, 3 months and 18 days you have slept in my arms almost every single day. I love when you come to the bathroom door and say "Knock knock mama". I love it when you point at my belly and say "Talk aba belly moment?" (which means talk to the belly for a moment). I love that you are outgoing like your papa and a tree hugger like your mama. I love it when you look at your papa and ask "Hi Papa. How doin'?" or when I drop something and you run over and say "You okay, mama?

In you I see it's not true at all what they say about human beings. We are perfect after all. Just as we are...

At 9 o'clock on Sunday November 1st 2009, the day before Max's due date, Günter brought me out to the fire escape to show me a beautifully round full moon. It confirmed our prediction that I would go into to labor that night. Three hours later I woke up to Max's excited movements. They were strong, quick and seemed reactionary. It was as if he were trying to tell me, "Wake up mama, it's time!" That's when I noticed the contractions. After months of hourly Braxton Hicks, these surges were much stronger and came with a distinct pressure sensation as if his head were being forced down with each tightening. I lit a candle, grabbed my phone and began to time them.

A Peaceful Early and Active Labor

I remember watching Günter sleeping peacefully, happily even, and deciding to let him stay that way because it would be a long, long time before he got to sleep like that again. I began to practice the slow deep breaths and visualization techniques I had learned. Every cell in my body was filled with complete joy and calmness.

For the next seven hours as the contractions grew stronger and progressed from 5-6 to 3-4 minutes apart, I continued my relaxation techniques, focusing on the candle, talking to Max, and at times swayed on the birthing ball. I felt completely connected to Max and felt my peacefulness become a comfort to him. He continued to move with each surge but his movements were calmer. It was the most peaceful, focused, happy and purposeful 7 hours of my life.

At 7:30 am Günter woke up. As he headed for the shower I said casually, "Guess what? It's time to go to the hospital" He continued to look through his closet for a moment before my words sunk in. Then he did a classic double take and said What? No way!!! He ran to tell his mother who was staying with us in anticipation of the baby. Even as the excitement in our house grew, I felt sedated and calm as if in a bubble. I showered and then, already being ultra-prepared, waited for everyone to get ready. We called Dr. Sassoon. Since it was a Monday morning he was already on his way to the office, so we called a car service headed over to meet him.

It was a perfect New York autumn day. The car was pristine and our driver was courteous and relaxed. He was a cautious driver, and in spite of the fact that it was rush hour, there seemed to be no other cars on the road. We arrived at Park Ave and 77th from Williamsburg in 40 minutes flat (which never happens). In the car, my contractions slowed briefly and picked up again once we arrived at the office. A quick exam confirmed that I was 4 cm dilated and at the beginning stage of active labor. With a genuine excitement, a huge smile and a hug Dr. Sassoon said "Your ready!" and we were off to Lenox Hill hospital which was just around the corner. Read more...

For Valentine's this year I decided to make a quick and simple treat that the little man could help out with. Since he's been on a role with play dough lately [and since our family is obsessed with anything to do with marzipan] I knew these would be perfect. I'm still getting the hang of cooking with a 2 year old, but what we did this time actually worked out pretty well. I made a few to show him what the goal was, then gave him the rest of the supplies and let him have a go. He loved it, but when I was distracted he helped himself to the chocolate bowl...and then of course skipped his nap and bounced off the walls until 11pm, but that's another story. On to the pops!

YOU WILL NEED:

5.29 oz package of marzipan
1/2 cup semi sweet chocolate chips
1/4 cup of whole milk
12 lollipop sticks
Small knife or mini cookie cutter
Rolling pin
Small metal bowl or double boiler

HOW TO MAKE:

Roll marzipan into 1/2" thickness. Use a knife or mini cookie cutter to cut hearts about 1" in diameter. Insert lollipop sticks. Heat chocolate chips in a bain-marie [if you don't have a double boiler, a metal mixing bowl placed in a pot of water works perfectly]. Bring water to a boil and then allow chips to soften on medium heat. Once chips are creamy, stir in milk. Remove from heat and allow to cool for a few minutes before dipping your pops. Place the ends of your pops between stacked cutting boards and allow to cool until they are no longer sticky to the touch (about 2 hours). Or cool them in the fridge for 30 minutes.

Note: These are fun to eat but are not great gifts because the chocolate has a fudge-like texture and will not harden enough for wrapping!

P.S. I'm sure you find some good uses for the extra fudge. We sure did...

We would love a vote! Thank you!

9 am:

11 am:

[organic pajamas are Skylar Luna soon to be at Miniluu!]

Well he hasn't completely cured my OCD but he's radically modified it. I now have a selective blindness in which I can only see non-toy messes like piles of laundry, dishes and mail. And it's generally confined to post-bedtime hours. Although I will confess to sweeping up to 3 times during the day when I'm not on bedrest...

I'm embarrassed to admit that in spite of various efforts to study foreign languages I am still monolingual. I've always dreamed of being able to rattle off in another language, any language. I can't tell you how many language books I toted around in my life and how many NY parties I've nervously laughed my way through with red hot cheeks where seemingly everyone was quadrilingual. Even though English has spread across the world as a common language, I always feel a bit disrespectful in saying I haven't bothered to return the favor by learning the language of at least one other culture (not even the mister's). Luckily my children will never suffer such a fate!

When one parent speaks a second language fluently, a child can develop fluency as quickly as a child raised in that culture. The method is easy. Each parent speaks only their native tongue to the child, and speak whichever language is preferred to each other. You can also offer books in both languages, programs like Little Pim, formal courses later on to perfect written skills, and voila, you have a bi-lingual baby.

Max goes through phases where he prefers German and phases where he prefers English. But usually he speaks both equally. For many words, even though he knows both, there is a preferred lagnguage. Water is always vasser, milk is always milch and car is always auto. Some words he blends together, like "Danks" [Thanks + Danke]. And some sentences, such as today when I asked him for a hug after I took his basketball away he said "Kein hug!" (as in "No hug for you, you basketball taker!")

But even if children mix the languages together, they are able to distinguish between the two. For example, if I speak German Max gives me funny looks. And when he needs help and I am nearby he says "Help, mama" and when papa is nearby he says "Hilfe, papa." 

I used to dream that we would learn German together but by the time he was 12 months I was eating his dust. The mister would say a few sentences to him and he would go and get something, meanwhile I had no clue of what had been said. Now sometimes I even have to ask the mister what Max is saying. Recently when he wants something he's started saying "Hamen? Hamen?" I finally asked the mister and he said it's for haben which means "to have". Well, cough cough (on that dust again).

For those of you who want to expose your little one to another language Little Pim is a lot of fun (even if you are not already a bilingual family) and Powell's has a great children's foreign language section!

We would love a vote! Thank you!