Citizenship

Sophie is now a US citizen!

On February 2, our star-spangled daughter traveled to the consulate in Berlin, and now holds dual citizenship in America and Germany. She got her passport, social security card, and first flag. Although I'm not usually that patriotic, I can't stop humming "You're a Grand Old Flag", "Yankee Doodle" and "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain."

What makes this event so exciting? Partly the sense of community--our little daughter is now one of our national tribe. She gets all the privileges and responsibilities that go with citizenship. She'll learn the importance of voting and voice. She is inextricably united with other Americans culturally. And because she'll learn American English, her language and national cultural values will make more sense to her.

That said, she's also a citizen of Germany, a member of the European Union. She also has those rights and responsibilities, too. Again, she'll learn German and absorb all its implied values and biases. She will be able to work anywhere in the EU, study at the university without paying tuition, travel on a German passport, and be influenced by European ideals.

How will Sophie reconcile the differences in these cultures? How will she make sense of the world? Will she, like her parents, build a foundation based on similarities and trust, bridging the two norms?

As I watch our sweet daughter blissfully sleep, I wonder if the time has arrived to truly set aside the ideas of borders and nations. The world is becoming more blended, and human culture will undoubtedly change, for what does it mean to be German, if one lives in America, or vice versa? Or both? The face of Sophia reflects the face of the world--united, new, and beautiful. The best of all cultures.

Farewell, Stormy

On Friday, January 23, our sweet hamster Stormy passed away. She was an extraordinary being, and brought great joy to our family. We will miss you, little one.

Born in October 2007 in Oakland CA, Stormy was the smartest of the litter. She was the first to venture from the nest, the first to hop out of the shoebox while we cleaned the cage, and the first to climb the cage bars. She loved to scamper across our bathroom counter and explore the apartment in her ball.

Defying all hamster textbooks and websites, Stormy enjoyed being held and petted. She knew her name, and would venture from her hut when called (perhaps enticed by a sunflower seed or some other treat). Her cage was on the kitchen window ledge, and she "joined" us at every meal.

She knew that she was part of the family and grew lonely when we were away; after a two-week vacation, Stormy changed her schedule to spend time with us, staying awake during the day and sleeping at night. Sometimes she would forgo eating in lieu of being held and petted. This bond was the deciding factor in moving her to Germany.

Stormy was a hearty traveler. Not only did she venture from Oakland to Southern California twice, she may very well be the first hamster to cross the Atlantic in an airplane, business class. The "hamster with a passport" charmed the security officials at LAX and Frankfurt; one inspector even knew her species (Russian Dwarf) and offered tips on how to reduce her stress for the last leg of the flight (wrap a t-shirt around the travel container).

Stormy loved to eat plain yogurt from her own spoon. She was fond of apples, pears, cucumbers, broccoli, and Joe's O's cereal. She loved chewing on molasses bear treats and would wrestle with one for hours.

She fainted once in the living room. Our furniture had not yet arrived, and we thought it was a perfect play area for a small hamster. Dan carried her in; Stormy twitched her nose, and promptly passed out, tongue out, paws limp. We tapped her nose, took her outside for fresh air, and revived her by splashing water on her face. Although the cause was unknown, it could have been the lack of furniture--do hamsters have some sort of radar? She also experienced a mild concussion when she fell off my shoulder onto the kitchen floor.

Her nickname was "Flo Jo" as she endlessly ran in her wheel, often at great speed.

When Sophie arrived, Stormy adapted. She learned to squeak for attention, mimicking Sophia's cries. She cherished the time together in the kitchen, performing acrobatic feats of upside-down paw dangling, climbing over her wheel, and zooming through the tube.

She was Dan's first pet, and reminded us about the importance of unconditional, continual love.

Rest in peace, dear one. We feel your spirit, and look forward to seeing you in the afterlife.

Sunday at the Krupunder See

Let's be honest--"cold" does not do justice to the recent weather here in Hamburg. For the past two weeks, the average temperature hovered between zero and minus seven.

The upshot of living in an icebox is that snow sticks to the ground and lakes freeze. And when it's a sunny Sunday, everyone in Hamburg flocks to the local lake for an afternoon of merriment.

We decided to walk to the Krupunder See, our little local lake. We were not alone, for nearly 200 people were playing on the ice. Granted, there were signs posted saying that activity on the ice was prohibited, but try enforcing that to a 10 year-old with a new pair of ice skates or a grandma with a soccer ball. Hockey games were in full swing, several mountain bikers cruised the lake, an ice-wind-surfer glided across the middle of the lake. It was unbelievably fun.

Before anyone calls Child Protective Services, rest assured that we weren't the only ones with a stroller on the ice! Ok, maybe we had the youngest little one, but we were only following local custom and tradition. What kind of mother would I be to deny my child a truly German experience of playing on a frozen lake?

We threaded our way between skaters and walkers to slide on the ice. Whee!! Sophie practiced for the 2025 Olympics in the new sport of Ice Buggying. You can check out her debut on this video: youtube Sophie on the ice


Someone recognized a grand business opportunity and offered Gluhwine, hot chocolate and juice.

However, we didn't get a chance to sip the sweet treats as the police came by and gently but firmly announced that we all needed to get off the ice: Achtung, bitte--it was verboten to play on the frozen lake. :-(

About 100 of us slunk to the shore while the other 100 or so continued frolicking on the See. The police car drove away, then some of the crowd ebbed back to the frozen playground and warm refreshment stand. We headed home; Sophie would be getting hungry soon, and our hearts were full of childlike joy.

New Year's Day at Timmendorfer Strand

Frohes Neues Jahr! Happy New Year!

At the stroke of midnight, my parents, Sophie, Dan and I welcomed in 2009. After a small toast, Dan and I joined the celebration on our street. We lit fireworks, greeted scores of tipsy neighbors, and shrieked with delight at the colorful pyrotechnics show in our (usually calm) country lane. There is something thrilling about shooting off a rocket or firework fountain at one's house, especially when everyone else is lighting them, too. I haven't had this much fun with fireworks since Telluride.

In Germany, it's legal to set off fireworks from midnight to 4m as part of a New Year's celebration. Naturally, many kids were "practicing" hours, even days, earlier--I guess they needed to make sure that those sparklers really do work before the Big Show. What better way than to throw small fireworks at the passing S-Bahn train? :-) The idea of having a window of time for fireworks is great--it lets everyone cut loose, but with parameters. Sehr Deutsch (very German)! Much healthier than prohibiting the fun and slapping a fine on any ne'er do well who dares to light a wimpy Roman candle.

My parents, being from Southern California, yearned to go to the beach. I can't blame them--there's nothing like the sound of waves or the smell of the sea. We drove to the beautiful Timmendorfer Strand on the Ostsee. Wow! The sand was the palest yellow, nearly white. The sea was tranquil, like a mirror. Small waves lapped at our boots. I've never been so happy to see a seagull.

However, being that it was January 1 in northern Germany, the weather was cold. The aptly named Strandkorb BIRR summed up the climate. Fortunately, we found a beach hut that sold hot chocolate under heating lamps.

I love being at the ocean. The few hours at Timmendorfer Strand were magical and filled me with a deep peace. As I watched the crescent moon rise over the trees and hover above the sand, I felt deliciously alive. It was as if the waves were saying, "all is well in the world, you are blessed."

Soon we became hungry and made our way to a local Chinese restaurant. It was great! I usually prefer Thai or Japanese to Chinese cuisine, but the flavors proved interesting and tasty. Sophie became fascinated by the colorful lights and balloons.

Looking forward to our next trip to this beautiful spot on the Baltic Sea.

She's here!!!!!

She's here!

On December 8, 2008, at 9:08 pm, our beautiful daughter was born. Welcome to the world, Sophia Marie Rolles. We are so glad that you are here.

Already our lives have changed in the most wonderful ways. Sophie is the center of our world. I remember that we had a delicious life before her birth, but that life seems long ago. Things like swimming, salsa dancing, and spending endless time on work related projects are distant memories. My new reality entails naps with Sophie on my chest, listening for coos or cries in the night, 3 AM feedings. Dan is an expert diaper changer, and I'm learning the art of breast feeding. Sophie enjoys the gentle rumble of the stroller, and we've gone for a walk or two nearly every day.

Certainly there are challenges. What to do when Sophie's tummy hurts? How do Dan and I make time for each other, especially when we are sleep deprived? What do those different cries mean?

Yet, somehow, we're learning. Sophie teaches us, we teach her, together we grow. Today's lessons: even the smallest baby needs some time to stare at the teddy bear print in her cradle, and never underestimate the power of a good burp. As I type this, she rests in the crook of my left arm. I love her so much, and wouldn't trade this experience for anything.

We made two albums, one with our own pictures of Sophie's adventures during her first month:
http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=b44whfjf.9c0ra397&x=0&y=-2wr5ha&localeid=en_US

and one with pictures taken by a professional photographer (our Christmas present for the Grandparents):
http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=b44whfjf.ansa68y3&x=0&y=d8a3u0&localeid=en_US

A song that I made up for her:
There is no one in the world like our precious baby girl
There is no one in the world like Sophia
We're so glad you're in the world, darling baby girl
We love you so much, Sophia.

When will she arrive?

It's week 40 of the pregnancy. When will Sophie arrive? Today is the American due date; November 29 was the German due date. Today's doctor visit showed a healthy heartbeat and no signs of contractions. Sophie was sleeping. Sigh. Only she knows when she wants to come out....

Neither Dan nor I can quite grasp that in a matter of days we will be parents. Parents! That seems like a tremendous responsibility. We still eat breakfast in bed, read the comics (albeit on-line) and enjoy snuggling together for hours. "Parents" sounds so grown-up and organized--not the kind of people who spontaneously go biking or book a cheap flight to Spain. "Parents" can be the folks who teachers both love and dread. They check on homework, volunteer in the classroom, insist on excellence...or not. "Parents" impact their child's life in profound ways. Some for better, some for worse. I hope that we'll be in the "for better" category.

I know that Sophie will bring us so much joy, for she already has. Dan's eyes sparkle a little brighter, and his smile is a little deeper. Our hearts are open and warm. I also know that there will be challenges--we've made it through countless hormonal mood swings (preparation for adolescence?), middle of the night bathroom trips, and lethargy. Is all this preparation for the new arrival?

Looking beyond all these questions, I feel a deep excitement. A little one will join our family. A sweet spirit will be part of our lives forever. We're going to do our best, and we'll grow together as she teaches us what she needs to thrive and we provide the support for her to do so. She's part of Dan and part of me, yet she is greater than the sum of her parts. She is Sophia Marie Rolles.

We're going to be parents! :-) Whenever you are ready, Little One, we are ready for you.

Our song for Sophie:
"Come Sophia, live your vision. Share your wisdom dwelling deep within."

Weiuhnachtsmarkts--The Christmas Markets

Germany embraces Christmas. It's wonderful. First of all, I feel liberated to even be able to say the "C" word (as if my closeted Jewish Grandma doesn't know what's behind all those "Happy Holidays" cards sent in December, complete with snow, stars and Santa...).

Yesterday, my parents, Dan and I went to one of the city's celebrated Christmas markets. My doctor said we should go enjoy one before Sophia is born...so we did. Wow! Picture little wooden huts decorated with evergreen boughs, red bows, and lots of little white lights. Artisans sell homemade and commercial wares, from traditional wooden toys and spoons to contemporary glass candleholders and jewelry. There's the cookie hut, with fantastic Lebkeuchen (German gingerbread covered in chocolate...mmmm), sugar-roasted almonds, and marzipan treats (so luscious!). There are Wurst huts with all sorts of sausages that taste amazingly good in the cold weather, and the drink huts with Gluhwine (like glogg) and Kinderpunch (the non-alcoholic cousin). My parents were mesmerized by watching kids ride the carousel. Perhaps they were day dreaming about Sophie and next year....

The best part? It's non-commercial. No Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer, no Santa Claus, no Wal-Mart specials. There's no pressure to actually purchase anything, for part of the Christmas Market is the experience of just being there.

Now that I'm living closer to the Arctic Circle, I have a new appreciation for light. Candles, fires, the little white lights that shine in windows--these fiery illuminations bring joy to my heart. It's DARK here! I'm writing this at 4pm, when there's na'er a trace of sunlight to be found. No wonder the Nordic and Teutonic folk celebrated with bonfires, cookies and hot alcohol; a person needs something hospitable to keep herself going through winter.

The Christmas markets provide a wonderful kind of warmth--the essence of the human spirit. As we sipped our hot chocolate and munched on fried doughnuts covered in powdered sugar, I felt happy and alive. We're together. Our baby will be born soon. The sun will shine again. Some foods just taste better in the snow, and some songs need to be sung every year. It took moving half-way around the world to experience the best Christmas present of all.