Spring=flowers

Spring=flowers

Oh my goodness, guys, it’s pretty much Spring! I started getting excited the closer it got to Matilda’s birthday and I am now in full-on beast mode when it comes to getting ready for Spring. Sometimes I wonder if I actually do hibernate. I love winter, don’t get me wrong (I’m a big fan of seasons), but as soon as that sun started shinning into our living room I was cleaning, planning, just feeling more alive! I guess I’m a bit like a plant, that way.

Wait, what’s that you say? Plant? Did you just say plant? How funny cause that’s what I want to tell you about today. We have a lovely little south-facing balcony. Ok, not everyone would love it. The guy who lived here before us told us it is not balcony to drink coffee on. We live on a busy intersection and the balcony looks out onto that coming off our bedroom – but hey, a balcony is a balcony and if there is some outside space I will make the best of it!

Last year I did a bit of planting. I had a black-eyed susan that did pretty well, some peach verbena that died (it felt like pretty much immediately) and red dipladenia that were growing up the sides of our window. It was pretty, but not wise, investment-wise, because nothing survived the winter. Wait. That’s not true. Weirdly, a blue daisy plant has survived despite me making zero effort to help it along.

Well, this year I have spent weeks planning and researching the kind of plants I want to have and am definitely going to invest in plants that will survive (with a few exceptions). Our balcony really is full-on south facing – it gets hot, hot, hot there in the summer, so one of my main priorities has been to pick flowers that can cope with that. I also have a trellis to create some shade and intimacy on our overlooked iron-wrought balcony and I need 2 climbing plants to grow around the window.

So without further ado, let me introduce you to the great Honsberg flower pick of 2015:

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2.

2.

This girl turned 2.

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Look at that little, fresh face! She wasn’t even an hour old here. And now she’s two! Two years of getting to know each other. Getting to know that weird chin dimple, getting to know the thoughts behind those giant brown eyes. Getting to know what she likes to reach for with those beautiful fingers. What music she likes to listen to with those ears that are like carbon copies of mine. Getting to know each curl on her perfect head. Getting to know the ache loving her makes me feel.

Two years of getting to know myself as a parent. Getting to know how angry nursing her for 1.5 hours can make me. Getting to know how happy/angry her grabbing for me can feel. Getting to know my issues even better, so that I can do my best not to pass them on to her. Getting to know that the crazy-love feeling isn’t going to get ‘normal’.

Two years of getting to know Patrick as a father. Learning that he is the one who is better at ‘teaching’. Learning that he never underestimates Matilda. Getting to know his immeasurable love for her. Watching him delight in her every word, facial expression, dance move.

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Settling in.

Settling in.

Matilda started Kindergarden this week. Or is it day care? I don’t even know what it’s called in English. Krippe. For the under-3s.

Everything about getting into this Kindergarden has been miraculous. Apparently Leipzig needs a huge amount of teachers for Kindergarden which has led to long waiting lists and low chances of getting in fast. We managed, really through a serious of miraculous coincidences to get a space for Matilda at a brand new, really close, Christian-run Kindergarden.

As soon as we knew that Matilda had got a place, we started to prepare her. Every time we walked past the building we would tell her that it was her Kindergarden and would explain about all the fun. We bought her a backpack and hung it up in the hallway. She wasn’t allowed to play with it but we told her that it was for Kindergarden and she would be allowed to use it then. That really helped her get excited (when she finally got to use it she cheered, jumped up and down and just basically freaked out). She got to pick her own slippers which arrived just in time and helped get her ready. She got to paint and decorate her binder for the class and I brought her with me to buy the supplies we needed. With her character , this was the kind of prep that she really needed and helped her feel more prepared internally.

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Facebook, it’s not you, it’s me.

Facebook, it’s not you, it’s me.

I love you, I do. You’re great. You’ve been so helpful in keeping me in contact with friends and family spread across the world. You let me see into their lives in ways I couldn’t normally, and I get to share my life with them. You’re fun, you’re easy, plenty of people love you just the way you are! So don’t feel bad, it’s not you. It’s me.

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Another day, another blog

Another day, another blog

Well, here goes. Another blog. I have been toying with the idea of blogging again for quite a while now. It’s not my first time dipping into the much-tread waters of blogging and I have never had the staying power needed to really stick with it. Will now be any different? I don’t know. After 2 previous failed attempts I make no promises, but that’s fine by me.

So why blog again? Good question.

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