Jet lag

I knew the kids would be jet lagged when we arrived in Germany. Germany is 8 hours ahead of Denver. I also suspected that it would take the kids about 5 days to get over the jet lag. What I did not account for is: 1) that our first three days wouldn’t really count, because our schedule would be so strange due to the wedding and 2) that the three kids wouldn’t experience jet lag in the same way. One kid might be awake until midnight, the other wants to go to bed at 6pm and the third fell asleep at 4pm for afternoon nap. It’s anyone’s guess when all three kids will be asleep at the same time. 

One week into our month long stay in Germany, my adrenalin has worn off and the kids are STILL jet lagged. What I really need is some kid-free time, but it’s not as easy to come by as I would hope. Trixie does a really crappy hand-off these days. By that I mean: nobody else is allowed to take care of her, unless they want to experience the hopeless task of peeling her sobbing body off the floor and trying to distract her with something. Even I am sometimes at a loss to get her off the floor, and I think I have quite a bit of experience under my belt. I’m most effective when somebody else has tried and failed. My mother-in-law thinks we need to just let her cry. I whisper at Fritz, this is not the time to change parenting strategies!

Over the years, Fritz and I have noticed that Noah has this peculiarity whereby the more you kid-friendly and fun activities we do over the course of the day, the more trying his behavior gets. This is not true of Mattias or Trixie (yet). This is a peculiarity that is very frustrating right now, because here we are spending our time riding bikes, going to the beach, flying kites and generally trying to do all sorts of fun things! But instead of seeming contented and satisfied with all the fun, Noah’s behavior is unwrapping like a ball of yarn and we, the parents, are wearing out faster than the kids. Why does this happen? A lack of school-like structure?? I suppose I should look to my own behavior as a sort of lesson – how did Noah learn to be this way? What can his behavior teach me about me? How about that I, myself, tend throw a lot of irons in the fire (so to speak) and then complain endlessly? Doing too many fun kid things is a child's equivalent to being overscheduled and Noah's crappy behavior is the equivalent of my adult complaining.  Stop complaining about your vacation, Ann!

I know, I know. But I can still want the kids to sleep at the same time, right? Because I'd probably feel a lot more gracious and forgiving if I had a little more kid-free time and sleep. And Noah, too, might be less crazy with some sleep.

Since writing this, we have left Juist and traveled to my mother-in-law's house. The kids have had one really good night of sleep. Here's to hoping that continues!

Wadden Sea

This week we were on the north coast of Germany, on the island of Juist between the Wadden Sea and the North Sea. The Wadden Sea is basically the stretch of land and sea between the barrier islands and the North Sea. Germans traditionally know this area as the Wattenmeer. The most direct translation of wattenmeer to english is “mud flat sea,” a name which is, frankly, a PR downer. I think "Wadden Sea" was appropriated relatively recently to save face. In 2011, it was named a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 2011. According to UNESCO, the Wadden Sea is “one of the last remaining large-scale, intertidal ecosystems where natural processes continue to function largely undisturbed” and it “encompasses a multitude of transitional zones between land, the sea and freshwater environment, and is rich in species specially adapted to the demanding environmental conditions.” 

The Wadden Sea is actually a pretty cool place, especially if you are fascinated by visibly changing landscapes. The sea stretches from the Netherlands through Germany to Denmark. On the outermost edge are barrier islands lined with fine, beautiful sand, then the dunes of the islands, then saltwater marshland, then mudflats that flood during the changing tide, and finally, the mainland. About 170 specially adapted animal/insect species live in the saltwater meadows and over 2000 different species of plants that have adapted living here. These species are non-competitive, meaning if you placed them somewhere else, they would be overtaken by the native species. They can only live, without competition, in the freshwater/saltwater land.

The barrier island of Juist (pronounced “Yoost”) has long been a vacation destination for Germans, although it is not among the most visited of the East Frisian Islands. Fritz visited it in 1976. He has always had such fond memories that I thought we should visit it with our children. Juist is reachable by ship only at high tide. (Otherwise, there’s not enough water for a boat and you need to take a plane.) There are no cars allowed on Juist, making it less popular and more remote than the neighboring islands, but ideal for visitors with children looking to avoid the worst of the beach crowds. All the transportation on Juist occurs by horse or bicycle. Fritz said it has changed a lot since the 1970s. It is my impression that tourism and development of the island are occurring VERY slowly and deliberately. To put it in perspective: 20,000 people visit Juist each year, while the neighboring island of Norderney may have that same number in a single day. I think the slow pace of development is very cool; it means Juist feels like an undiscovered secret, maybe like the Cinque Terre were before Rick Steves "discovered" them.

Facebook and Blogging

I finally broke down and got myself a real Facebook account a few months ago. I was tired of never knowing where to send Christmas cards; tired of trying to keep track of friends who use it as their exclusive means of communication; tired of feeling that I would know something if I were on Facebook. 

What I like about Facebook is that I really do feel more in the loop. I love getting everyone’s updates. I like that I can communicate with distant friends and relatives; especially those whose last email address was from 10 years ago. I like the expediency of these communications in Facebook. When my Grandmother slipped into a coma and passed away just a week or so after I joined Facebook; I was glad to be able to be updated quickly through Facebook. 

That said, it’s still not my preferred medium and I mostly dislike it. I can’t really see myself migrating to Facebook and abandoning this blog. I feel more "me" here, in spite of the pseudonyms. And as much as I love getting everyone’s Facebook updates, it’s no substitute for a telephone conversation, or a dinner and drinks, or even a great blog post. Not at all. There something inherently extrinsic about the feedback loop on Facebook. Here on my blog I feel like my motivations are more intrinsic, although maybe that can be attributed to the length of time I’ve been on Facebook versus blogging. I’m willing to concede I’m still a newbie and don’t really know how I will feel after the newness has worn off.

I get very little sense of closure or accomplishment from posting on Facebook. Maybe it could be motivating if I was – I don’t know – training for a marathon or something, but it seems like a dangerous precedent to use Facebook that way. I do get a sense of closure and accomplishment for posting on this blog. I think it has something to do with the amount of effort that I have to put into a blog post. On Facebook, I feel a sort of obligation to post something: if I want/love updates about my friends, shouldn’t I also post Facebook updates about me/my family? On this blog, posting is a lot more about the process, and not the quantifiable outcome.

Honestly, I wish everybody had a BLOG instead of a Facebook account, but I’ve finally settled for what I can get.