For those of you who know me well, October 15th is the last and biggest tax deadline of the year. By this date, I have been working in 5th gear since around July (if not earlier). This year, with the new High Intensity Baby Program added to the mix, I started the fall tax season before she was even born (and thank goodness for that). I would like to say that it’s time to raise a glass of champagne to celebrate the completion of this auspicious deadline, but frankly… my arm’s too tired to lift the glass. Whoever said that babies are the great equalizers are SO RIGHT. Even a distinctly non-passive, hyper-productive person like myself needs sleep and a good book. And a facial. I am frankly wiped out.

On the upside, this deadline was achieved without sacrificing that all-precious time with Sophie. I managed to jam in high-velocity tax work while she was a) sleeping, b) on a 3+ hour walk with Brigitte, or c) out with Soenke doing house stuff. It worked marvelously for her - she has been entertained and stimulated with a high degree of diversity; but perhaps after all that I myself could use a vacation. After the last FedEx package went out on Thursday, I ventured out to the mall ALONE for a few fall wardrobe items and the gals at Starbucks looked at me surprised, saying “Was denn? ohne Baby, ohne Mann?!” (What? No baby, no husband?!). With bleary eyes, I simply replied “2 hours of freedom. Need caramal macchiato. Fast.”

So much for weekend jaunts to Budapest. Now, I just beg Soenke for a nap and a shoulder rub.

The good news is, who needs a jaunt to Budapest when you can jaunt right on over to HAWAII !!!!!!!!! And so, after we move into our new digs on October 22nd (oh no, I really have to PACK?!), 2 weeks later we take to the friendly skies again en route to LA for a few weeks of smoothies, fish tacos, family and sunshine. November 19th we soar onward to the island of Kauai, where on November 25th we will Tie The Knot. This whole experience will involve luaus, macademia nut pancakes, fruity drinks by the pool, hidden waterfalls, and perhaps a rented minivan to lug all of Sophie’s stuff around. Happily, we will be surrounded by 18 of our beloved friends and family who are willing to make the daunting trek to the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It’s a trip of a lifetime and I look forward to every aloha minute.

In the meantime, here is the latest riveting home video of the Sophster. If you’re not her grandma, then you probably won’t be too blown away, but this is all I got at the moment…

You know, after 3 years in Germany, I really thought I had gotten the hang of things around here. No unnecessary smiling at strangers, no excess tipping, always say Guten Tag and Tschuess, dress nicely for the mall, don’t laugh too loud in public. Check check. Got all that. (well ok, I still laugh too loud…) But then, we took little Sophie to the doctor for her checkup and vaccinations, and I discovered that I was still wayyyy back on the Deutsch learning curve.

Having left the diaper bag in the car by accident, I found myself alone in the waiting room while Soenke hiked back to fetch the bag (you never, EVER venture out with a baby, sans diaper bag, unless you wish to tempt the cruel Poo Poo Explosion gods). So here we are, three mothers and three babies, all sitting around staring at each other while we wait our turn with the doc. I notice the other babies are in long-sleeve bodysuits (“onesies”) and nothing else, which alerts me that something strange is afoot – a German mother would NEVER allow her infant to be in such a stage of undress in public. But I am distracted from the hidden meaning in this when the nurse pops in briefly and asks me (and I paraphrase here) to “ausziehen” my baby. Not wishing to look uncool in front of the other moms, I smile and nod, then am left to sit and contemplate the word “ausziehen”. Let’s see…… Aus…“out”. Ziehen.. “to pull”. I should pull out my baby. Like, out of what? The womb? She’s already out. Out of the car seat? Also out. Maybe she meant she would come back to pull my baby out of the waiting room. Yup, that’s gotta be it. But the other moms are looking at me expectantly. #$&* What now? Where is SOENKE? Help.

Ten minutes later the other nurse comes in, sees me sitting there in the same position, and says in somewhat condescending English “you must undress your baby”. Ok. Got it. Pull the baby out of the CLOTHES. I’m cool. I just, uh, FORGOT.

But now, I am realizing that the other babies are already undressed – but wearing just their onesie, since in Germany the onesie is considered underwear. They are expecting me to do the same. However, being a warm day, I didn’t put a onesie on under Sophie’s outfit. She just has a t-shirt and diaper to undress too. Is this a total faux pas? Will they think we have a white-trash baby? I’m so embarrassed. I never knew doctor’s visits could be so stressful. At least she’s wearing Pampers diapers instead of some cheap plain-wrap brand. Phew.

Soenke has since returned but is off doing something else when I realize I should freshen up Sophie’s diaper before her big doctor debut (how bad would THAT be to present her in an unclean state?!). I now have noticed that there are 4 adjacent changing tables in the waiting room, and you are supposed to claim one as your own when you first come in. That is where you do the undressing, diaper changing, etc, and you leave all your stuff on it. Aha. The other gals were using some identical disposable changing pads, and so I smoothly ask one of the other moms where the pads are stored. She looks at me peculiarly, and says “what do you mean? Didn’t you bring one?” Oh NO. So uncool. I mean, YES of course I have a pad – it’s not disposable , it’s portable – but now I have disclosed that I really obviously do NOT know the protocol. Having lost all mother credibility, I sheepishly change Sophie’s diaper with our own supplies and pray there are no other surprises in store.

Thank goodness, there weren’t. The nurse came in and weighed Sophie (7,130g) and stretched her out in a somewhat primitive wooden drawer to measure her (62 cm). Then we visited the Doc. Doctor Drunkenmoelle is the totally NICEST guy you’ll ever meet (and, I know what you’re thinking… no, there are not bottles of whiskey lining his wall… he just has an unfortunate name for a man of his profession…) He’s gentle, wonderful with babies, and very open-minded when it comes to the parents’ ideas about baby’s health. Sophie looked up at him curiously and didn’t fuss when he gently poked and prodded her a little.

The one hitch in this happy doctor meeting was the VACCINATION. I was absolutely terrified (beginning weeks before the appointment). I started to get teary-eyed when he prepared her for it. Perhaps it was my own traumatic vaccination experiences as a child that fired me up, and I thought about leaving the room. But HOW could I abandon my girl in her time of need? I pulled myself together and set about distracting her with Soenke. No dummy, my girl, she KNEW something was afoot and started to look very afraid for about a second – then doc pulled out this tiny little needle (no more than an inch long) and gave her the juice. It was all over in a flash, and Sophie didn’t even cry. What a stud. You go, Soph.

We rewarded ourselves afterwards with ice cream, and Sophie took a long nap.

May I say for the record that at the NEXT appointment, the Soph will be tricked out in her finest Le Petit Bateau onesie, I will be prepared with a stock of disposable changing pads, and all the other moms will be begging me for advice on how to navigate the doctor’s office. You’ll see…

Photos of this red-letter day:

Our destination:

Soenke loiters in the waiting room with the Soph:

She definitely measures up!

The doc checks Sophie’s operating system…

AND OTHER CUTE PHOTOS, JUST FOR THE HECK OF IT…

Our brilliant daughter is already reading:

Always the orator…

Fashion-conscious baby sports a chic hat from Klaudia & Mehmet:

And finally, not the most riveting video but the grandparents will love it: