Happy New Year! Gueti Rutsch!

There is no way anybody is this house will be awake until midnight, so I'm posting happy new year wishes now.

And for the Swissies, gueti Rutsch!

This is what we get for letting Small Boy choose his own Christmas ornaments!

The 2005 selection:



This was actually his keepsake from our Yellowstone trip. He could have had a stuffed bear, or a wolf, but he wanted this:




And the 2006 selection. To add insult to kitchiness, this may be the most expensive ornament on our tree.




The tree in its entirety, however, wears the occaisional kitsch well I think:




Yes, those are real candles and yes, we are going to have live fire on our tree. I've been Swissified; I don't know if I'll ever be able to go back to lights again. Even knowing that R set himself on fire as a child one Christmas - Grossvati deftly extinguished him and R bears no scars and seems to think the whole incident is a rite-of-passage story or something - we're lighting candles on our tree. It's simply lovely. And we've got a bucket of water and a blanket to hand.

Wee changes: UPDATE: now with Small Boy changes, too!

I've got a new WeeMe, reflecting some real-life changes:



But the big changes involve the Small Boy. Before:




After:

The year in review

As seen at Raising WEG and Profgrrrrl. Here's how to play: take the first sentence from the first post of each month of the year starting at January and moving forward. Here's what my blog year looked like:

I don't know how to explain the lack of blogging (and blog reading) over the past two weeks - holiday doldrums, perhaps - but I do know how to explain the lack of blogging that will occur in the coming week. I learned to keep basic household accounts by watching my mother. I've started swimming again. In case Small Boy's (US-)Americanness ever comes into question, in case the Consular Report of Birth and US passport aren't enough, I can always just point to this cultural marker. On the strength of his final day time trial, Cadel Evans won the six-day Tour de Romandie on Sunday, denying Alejandro Valverde another victory this spring. I walked past the bookstore on my way to Dr L’s office yesterday* and noticed that Natalie Goldberg has a new writers’ book out, Schreiben in Cafes (Writing in Cafes). We're not doing anything special over here today. Good things are happening out there. Thirty-five hours of labor (I feel for ya' Lun Lun, I really do!) to deliver a 4 oz baby the size of a stick of butter? We're back. There's nothing particular to report; I've got an ultrasound to measure my lining scheduled for Nov 9th and until then I just roll merrily along taking my 2mg of Progynova. Like Sandra and Christina, I am pretty happy to see the end of NaBloPoMo.

And that was my 2006 wrap-up, blog-style.

WeeMe

Because Jessica and Global Librarian did it, and because I am a sheep...



That's the wee me. I considered using the sleeping face for my emotion, but Small Boy has been doing that thing I will not mention lest I jinx it, so I'm actually feeling rested-ish - besides, there's the virual coffee cup, after all!

The ghost of blood tests past

I just got the bill for my blood test. You know, the blood test to confirm that the FET failed, the test that was pretty much superfluous on account of my, you know, massive period. Yeah, that blood test.

And how often can I combine infertility and expat life in a single blog post? A beta test costs 51.30 Swiss Francs, which at the current conversion is US$41.97. How's that for killing two Vögel with one Stein?

And to throw in some non-Swissness for good measure, I won't be rushing to pay that bill before the holidays.

Wow was that an efficient post! Infertility, snark, random Switzerland fact, a German lesson, and a cultural faux pas in under 100 words (not counting this sentence)! Perhaps I shall retire, for how can I top that?

Party pooper

R., this morning: "I'm looking forward to the holidays."

Me: "What for??"

R: "I won't have to go to work."

Me: "Oh, well I don't really get days off so it'll all just be the same for me."

Yeah, can't you just feel the Christmas spirit around here?

Random bullets of spiraling out of control

• Small Boy woke up at 5.11 am today.
• Yesterday and the day before he woke at 06.00.
• Sunday the 10th he woke at 05.45 and Friday the 8th at 05.30.
• Saturday the 2nd, Sunday the 3rd, and Monday the 4th he woke at 05.00.
• This pattern runs back into November.
• His idea of sleeping late is 07.00 - that happened on Monday the 11th and, um, a couple of days back on vacation (that would be October) when R slept with him.
• I burst into tears three times in three separate public places today.
• I feel it is no longer safe for me to drive; fortunately our city life basically makes driving a non-necessity. I can even get to The Farm by train.
• Sometimes, if I have to cross tram tracks with the stroller, I am not sure it is even safe for me to walk.
• I tried to buy a few groceries and couldn't remember the pin-code to my EC card (a cash card).
• It's a wonder I remember my own name.
• Sleep deprivation is physically painful.
• I have not been well since Small Boy was born.
• He won't sleep.
• I have to wonder if I will ever be well again.
• Short of running away from home.
• Which crosses my mind far more than I care to admit.

Ode

At five a.m. you are my love
sent to me from stars above.
At six a.m. you are my friend
our relationship will never end.
At seven a.m. you'll do just fine
it's good to know that you are mine.
Through thick and thin and inbetween
you are my love, oh coffee bean!

Ms. guided

Ms. Mac seems to be under the serious misapphrension that she and Mr. Clooney shall wed; this is impossible, says I, for I shall be marrying the Clooney. Do you hear me?

The streets of my city: Christmas Market Monday edition

I'm not very happy with these pictures of the Christmas Market; they're very uninspired. In my defense, I have always thought that the Bernese Christmas Market itself was very uninspired. Lame, even. It's pretty much the regular market decorated with pine boughs.



I've never travelled to Germany for some of the more famous markets, but I have friends who have and they all agree that the German markets put our little Bernese market to shame. (With the possible exception, it seems, of J's Christmas Market - you'll remember that Christmas Market Monday was his idea.)



The market is actually divided into two sections, one on the Weisenhausplatz near the train station and the Bundeshaus, and a second part on the Münsterplatz. These pictures are from Weisenhausplatz section; I do think the stalls down at the Münsterplatz are a little more Christmas markety, but I didn't make it down there for pictures.



My favorite thing about Bern during Christmas time are the decorations of the lower Old Town, between the Zytglogge and the river; it's so lovely. I'll be posting some pictures throughout December to redeem my fair city in your eyes.

You can read about Christmas markets in Nürnberg, Schloss burg, Jena and Weimar, Munich, and Hannover and Dullsville, too. And a non-Christmas market in Chiang Mai (Thailand).

I heart Dr. Norwegian

I think I've raved about Small Boy's pediatrician, Dr. Norwegian, before. We were at his office today; Small Boy has a head cold that sounds like it's moving into his chest and a little playmate of his - she was here the day before Thanksgiving - has been hospitalized as a result of severe vomiting, so I don't want to mess around with this thing. When Dr. Norwegian came into the office and asked how Small Boy was doing I said he had a bad cold and he asked "And Mama, too?" Reasonable question, since my eyes must have been a bit red and I was a bit sniffly. Not from having a cold, but from being weepy. I was waiting in Dr. Norwegian's office - Small Boy's doctor from birth, and the doctor who works at the hospital where I would give birth, assuming I ever give birth again - and got weepy. It's been a weepy week. It doesn't take much. It's just a weepy week. I quickly said no, I was just over-tired and Dr. Norwegian asked if Papa was sick. I said yes, R is a bit sick. And Dr. Norwegian's very next question was "Do you have help? Do you have somebody who can help you get some sleep today?" I said it was okay, that I can nap when he does, and the weekend is coming, and the grandparents are close by and it's okay.

But before he even started the exam with Small Boy, he checked in with the Mama. That's my kind of pediatrician.

Spreading the word - Christmas Market Monday!

J has declared Monday, December 4th to be Christmas Market Monday. Who's in? Check out his comments for a list of takers.

Finally! December!

Like Sandra and Christina, I am pretty happy to see the end of NaBloPoMo. I didn't even achieve the goal of a post every day, though that was a deliberate decision to take a weekend off after a particularly rough post. I think I'm probably a 3 to 4 posts a week girl - I'm trying to stick with my city series on Mondays, the fountains on Wednesdays (but there are only a handful of fountains so that series won't last much longer), and then something about my life somewhere along the line. But I certainly will be taking this weekend off. I don't know if it's all the effects of getting the bad news about my FET - it was foolish of me, I know, but I couldn't help it; I never really believed that it could fail and I'm rather stunned to find that my uterus is, gasp, mortal after all - or sleep deprivation and crankiness caused by our beloved Small Boy's habit of waking at five freaking thirty a.m. or the general fall blues or a combination of all of the above but I am low. So low. I can barely get out of bed, let alone post every day. On the other hand, to what do I attribute the fact that I got more hits this past November than ever in my blog's little history? Was it posting every day? Was it blogging the FET? (I did have a lot of hits from searches involving various FET/infertility terminology.) Neither of which will be happening in December, I can assure you.

Neither.