Sundays are generally rather quiet here, what with stores being closed and school being out. You wake up and all you can hear are the birds singing- no cars, no machinery, and very little foot traffic going by on the sidewalk. The occasional bike might whir on by, but besides the birds, that's really the only noise there is.
I should mention that this observation only counts for outside sounds, as we generate plenty of indoor sounds here at the house.
Have you ever fed a three year old some French toast and Bartlett pears while she sits on your shoulders? It takes a good deal of skill, to blindly hold the fork up to the unseen mouth so that it can partake. Provided the syrup does not drip into your eye and run down your ear, it can be a very effective way of feeding a small child.
We read more multilingual books together this morning, and I made a rather botched attempt at reading an Icelandic book. Let's just say that there are lots and lots of "th" sounds, which look like this: ð, along with plenty of accents and little æ / á / œ thingies.
A balloon and stick kept her occupied for a good long time, as did feeding a toy dog strawberries. She fell ill around eleven, and required the aid of my doctoring skills.
Next was clean-up time. We washed clothes, washed the floor, took out the trash, and generally set things right. Aunt Rachel made the foyer very attractive, with flowers and a tablecloth.
My outfit for the day was: workout knickers with shorts over top (my 3 year old fashion consultant recommended this combination) a blue shirt, and a red apron decorated with a big green apple on the front. I'm willing to bet that I looked rather conspicuous as I took the trash out this morning.
After lunch, we took a delightful little outing to the park.
The average park here in Germany is extremely kid friendly, with plenty of variety in its playground equipment, some of which is recycled- old tires, concrete drainage pipe, etc. Trees are a must, and it seems as though it is all designed with the child's imagination in mind. The park we visited today was part of Ellert's school, but looking at the pictures you'd never know it.
How many schools have a green play arbor like this in the front yard?
Or this, as part of the back play area?
Side note: I forgot how much I enjoy hide and seek tag.
Erla and I were playing together on a separate section of the park, behind the building. I knew she would need to pee, since she had guzzled an entire juice box not too long ago. As there were no bathrooms to be had, I decided to do what her Mama does with her, hold her around the back of her knees and thus, let her pee in the bushes.
This sounds unusual, but in other cultures and other countries, it's just an easy and convenient way to let a small child use the bathroom. You never have to worry about not having a bathroom when you are out. As long as there is a semi-private bush nearby, you are all set.
There appeared to be no one around, and so I employed the technique. Handy dandy. But as soon as things commenced and Erla started to throughly water the bushes, I saw two little old ladies puttering along on the sidewalk, looking rather startled to see the spectacle they beheld.
Oh well. It wouldn't have been so bad if we hadn't come upon them again on the way back to the house. Erla zoomed by them on her balance bike at a precariously close range, with one lady's facial expression indicating that she was certain Erla would crash into her walker.
Of course, she didn't (she's one smart cookie, that girl.) They smiled kindly and as I walked past, told me "your child is very fast and very good with her bike."
Later on in the evening, Aunt Rachel said she'd just as soon as pay for a take out meal as have to clean up the kitchen again, and so I was sent out to procure a meal. Most stores and restaurants are closed here on Sundays, so I figured the pickings would be slim. The Italian place down the street had a line out the door and I knew that would be a pain, so I searched elsewhere.
Guess where I got food for the kids?
Everyone was happy with my success.
Erla started to get kinda cranky, so I moved things towards bed. Apparently there was an ouchie on one of her toes, a scratch that was bleeding just enough to gain the notice of a three year old. The only bandage I could find was a rather big one, about 3 inches by 2 inches. I put it on the ouchie shortly before we left for our nightly Sleepmobile ride.
BIG mistake. A curse be upon that bandaid, as it impeded her from an easy descent into slumber. It moved to her foot, then migrated to her knee, to the other foot, and finally, over her mouth, my least favorite place for a large bandaid to be on the child I am babysitting. Let's just say it closely resembled a cruel-looking gag of some kind. Nope. Nicht gut. I asked her to put it back on her knee and thankfully she complied.
When little miss is singing along to the lullabies as you drive, you know you're in for a long ride. Tonight I was more than halfway to Tübingen before she decided to conk out, and conk out she did.
When she wouldn't fall asleep at first, I almost tried to get lost, since I was a little bored and just wanted to see if I could make it back. But as I discovered, everything is laid out in such a logical manner that it's truly difficult to get lost or turned around.
It's also worth noting that when you exit off the two lane highway like I did on the way to Tübingen, you have a little traffic circle with different routes to take, and if you get off the highway and realize that you've taken the wrong exit, you simply keep driving and you end up on an exit lane back to the highway where you just were. Hard to explain, but a lovely thing to behold.
I drove on back, ready to unwind for the evening. Let's just say that a shower had become a thing of the past and as such, I looked a little rough around the edges.
I was quite surprised to see someone in the driveway when I arrived back home. I had no idea who it could be- German plate, with a Yankee candle-like thing hanging up on the rear view. My instinct said "southern," for some reason.
I came into the house carrying Erla in a fireman hold over my shoulder, channeling my inner Jean Valjean. I safely put her to sleep and laid there myself for a few minutes of rest.
As it would turn out, it was Bernie.
Aunt Rachel knew Bernie because before she married her husband Fritz, a German gentleman, she lived in Eden NC, Rachel's hometown and current place of residence. We had a very pleasant visit, and plan to eat brunch with them in the nearby town of Essingen before we leave.
Rachel and I watched two episodes of our current series before turning in for the night. The school routine comes early after the weekend.
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