Old photos.

I've finally found a few minutes to myself to catch up on things. I think I would go insane if it weren't for the most wonderful time of day: naptime. I'm lucky to have the boys on the same nap and sleep schedules.

Nick's mom left to go back to her home in the States last week. Yes, I was kind of heartbroken. It's not so much about having someone here to help chase after my rascals, but more about having the company around. Our house is just too big for the 4 of us and it was nice to have someone around to help fill the house. Besides the lack of adult company, things are going smoothly with only me and the boys at home all day. I feel pretty good about things and that I was able to push myself through that nasty postpartum crapola makes me feel confident.

We've done a little more traveling. Most of the travel plans were propelled by Nick's mother being here and we wanted to get her out to see a bit of Germany before she had to leave. We took day trips down to Heidelburg to see the castle. Unfortunately it was so cold and windy that day that it burned your nose and fingers so I stayed in the car with Baby Hux while everyone did a little sightseeing. I wasn't at all upset about staying in the car because I've got 2 1/2 more years to see the castle and I'd rather not risk letting the baby get an ear infection. (I was extremely prone to them as a child and I've been told by pediatricians that the susceptibility will pass onto the children.) The weekend before she left we all went to Trier to do some exploring with a pair of her friends. The weather wasn't as miserable, but as a sidenote, you really need to wear good shoes. All that walking on cobblestone in "cute" shoes isn't reasonable. Whew! I'll never pull a stunt like that again.

I recently was given a disc of pictures from my German relatives. The pictures were of my German grandparents and of my mother and aunt. I haven't met my aunt and my grandfather passed away just a few weeks before I arrived in Germany so I didn't get to meet him either. Well, technically I should say I didn't get to meet him as an adult. My mother had me here and raised me here until I was a year and a half, then we moved to the States where I would be raised by my American grandparents. Point is, I never got to really get to know my family and I was really upset not to get the chance to meet him. Everyone tells me stories of how he would always call me his Jenny and really loved having me around.

I like looking at the photos of my family that I'm starting to get to know. I laughed a bit looking at the ones of my mother, who would have been 9 years old in the pictures, at some type of Communion parade all dressed in white with a small purse and headband. I could see how my younger half brother looks just like her. Now for anyone who doesn't know already, I'm very open about the deteriorated relationship I have with my parents, especially my mother. It's not an attempt at complaining about it, but I say it the same way as I would talk to someone about the weather. I simply don't care, which is why I was so taken aback by feeling something when I looked at those pictures. Pity? Sadness? Anger? I'm not sure what it was, but it wasn't a happy feeling. It was weird. How could I feel bad or sad for this person who takes her life frustrations out on me for no reason? Who doesn't even call to see how I am when I've recently given birth? Oh God, here I go sounding bitter, but it's not bitterness. It's confusion. I cannot wrap my head around what the hell has happened between us and why am I the only one who seems to ever wonder about it?

I've been thinking that I want to call her to see how she is doing. I've been trying to come up with excuses as to why she hasn't called or written or emailed. Maybe she doesn't have long distance (I do have a vonage line, but it's not her area code), and maybe she cut off her internet to save money since she never uses a computer, and it's hard to write a letter when you care for 2 kids and work all day. I try to give the benefit of the doubt, but I know I'm making excuses for her and if I do call she'll just end up whining at me about how bad things are going and how she has no time to talk to me. I do try to hold on to hope of at least being friendly, as I am with my father. Between my father and me, we don't have expectations of each other, except to call once every few months and say "I'm alive and ok". It has become quite nice, actually. So, here's to hoping I can get to that point with my mother. I won't stop hoping for it because every so often she laughs. She rarely laughs, but when she does it's loud and infectious.

Talking about this bores me after awhile. Plus, I'm hungry now. Watching Spongebob and having a snack really takes precedence over thinking about things like this. Animal crackers anyone?