I officially love staying at Jodi's house.  We got up this morning to the smell of bacon, which was joined with french toast, strawberries, and caramel syrup.  YUM!

This afternoon was Syddo's baptism.

 Our family was there, along with my parents and, of course, Jodi's family.  It was a sweet, simple meeting and I was so glad we could be there.  We've missed being a part of family things these last three years.

Tonight we drove to Amarillo to spend the weekend with my sister Jodi and her family.  Her daughter Sydney is getting baptized tomorrow, so we thought it would be fun to come for that.

We arrived pretty late - close to midnight - and found beds waiting for all of us.  Brad and I are in Syd and Bailey's room, which is truly adorable in a pink, girly way.

I had to get a picture of my macho husband all snuggled down in the hot pink, foo-foo bedding.  So cute!

 I cut Luke's hair tonight, which he let me do on one condition.  He was adamant that I give him "Nicholas Hair".  Nicholas is a friend from Berlin who is 12 and very suave and cool.  He has his hair cut so that he can gel it up in the front and Luke thinks it looks really good.  So, this is Lukie with his Nicholas Hair.

 So, apparently this is what happens when Jess Skypes with her friend Gyllian in Germany.  Scary.

Success!!

Yes, we have accomplished the impossible and obtained our Texas driver's licenses.  It felt like a major victory this morning.  There was much rejoicing when we presented our new licenses to the car lot guys and were able to drive our shiny new red Durango off the car lot.  I had a red Durango before we left for Germany three years ago, which I loved, so being in the driver's seat of another one feels like all things have been restored to their rightful place.

I'm also liking Texas significantly more than I did yesterday.  Check out this restaurant next to the DMV:

 First of all, you can get "Ham 'n Aigs".  And do they have Pintos and Cornbread?  Shonuf!

Today has not been a good day.  Not a good day at all.

While Brad was here in Texas without us, he shopped around and found us a new car to buy (we don't currently own a car, since we had a company car while we were in Germany).  But, we are not allowed to drive the car off the lot without a current TX driver's license.

  So, we got up early this morning with the plan to go to the DMV, get new driver's licenses, then head to the car lot and get our car so I'd have something to drive.  We looked up locations online, as well as the required documentation we needed, and set off glibly thinking we were prepared and everything was under control.  

We were so wrong.

Firstly, it took us three tries to find the right place.  When we finally arrived at the correct location, there was a long line OUTSIDE the DMV, since the office was completely full.  I should also mention that it was 100+ degrees, and we got to wait on a hot sidewalk for TWO HOURS before we finally reached the door to the DMV.  

That is when we were finally able to talk to a DMV employee, at which time we learned that we needed to have two proofs of residency (this was not mentioned on the website).  The lady gave us list of accepted proofs, and our hearts fell as we realized that we didn't have a single one.  Since we are living in temporary corporate housing until we find a house, we don't have any contracts/utility bills with our names on them.  Many of the other accepted documents are things like car titles, boat titles, etc, WHICH REQUIRE A TEXAS DRIVER'S LICENSE TO HAVE.  To say we were frustrated would be a major understatement.

In a panic, we went to the car dealership to see if they could help us with anything (we just wanted to get our car!).  The guys there looked over the list with us and together we figured out what we could do to fulfill the residency requirements.  We then spent the remainder of the day getting car insurance (for a car we couldn't own yet), opening a checking account so we'd have a statement with our name and address on it, and begging the HR department at Brad's work to write an official letter explaining our living situation and verifying that we do indeed live at the address.  All this as we progressively deteriorated into worse and worse jet lag.

By the end of the day, we were at our wits' end.  The final straw was when I tried to activate my American cell phone and nothing I did would work.  This whole day has been an exercise in futility.

I am not loving Texas so far.

This is my final view of Berlin as our plane took off:

Bye-bye Berlin.

When you were good, you were very, very good, but when you were bad, you were horrid.

When we scheduled our last flight out of Berlin, we made it for Sunday so we could have one last Saturday of baseball.  I am so glad we did.

Denise doesn't have a kid who plays baseball, but she will often come to the ballpark to have a hot dog and a taste of Americana.  Today, she hung out with us while we watched Luke's game.  It was both awesome to have one more hour with her, and terrible that we both knew it would be our last hour together for a long time.

We should have taken this photo before the tears started.  Oh well.

Susanne was also there for the last of Adam's game, since her son's game started right after.  

This picture was taken pre-tears.  It's a good thing, too, because when I walked out of the ballpark a few minutes later, I was a basket case.

Man, oh man, I love these two.  They saved my life here in Germany. 

Today was a loooong day of cleaning and doing all the last-minute tasks we needed to do to close up the house.  By the time we were finished, the boys and Brad and I were all exhausted.

Luckily, we had something fun to finish off the day.

We've been planning this last Game Night for weeks.  It was a perfect way to wrap up our day of moving and cleaning.  Even though we technically didn't play any games, there aren't any better people we could have spent our last real evening with in Berlin.

Of course, we had to get a bunch of pictures of The Girls.  The guilty grins on our faces may have something to do with a certain secret book club the four of us participated in.

This picture is making me cry.  I need to stop now.

 

This afternoon was Adam's fifth grade graduation.  Here he is with his whole class - we are going to miss the nice small classes at BBIS.

We are also going to miss Adam's teacher, Mrs. Benson.  She was Pepper's fifth grade teacher, too, and we fell in love with her three years ago.  She is originally from Michigan, so how can she help but be awesome?

I can't believe Adam is done with his elementary school career.  I'm not ready for my little Bubba-la to be in middle school!

 With the house getting packed up, the Marriott will be our home for the next few days.  It is so nice to have a non-chaotic place to come to every night after being at the mess of a house all day.

It has begun!

As I sit here at my computer, leisurely updating my blog, there are three burly men upstairs packing up the bedrooms.  I'm having a Moment.  

I'm remembering moves from the past, in which it took me a solid two weeks to pack up our things.  It was two weeks of forcing myself to go through closets, drawers, bookshelves, and cupboards, wrapping dishes in newspaper, and hoping I had enough boxes.  Then we got to live in Boxland, where inevitably we needed something that had already been packed in the bottom of a box somewhere, but it required unpacking a couple of boxes in order to find the right box.  Then, I got to repack them all.

And even before that, I spent weeks loitering around grocery store dumpsters, searching for produce boxes with the least amount of brown lettuce sludge.  I learned that liquor stores are good box sources, as the boxes are heavy duty, although they can smell like booze.  I remember inhaling the beer/wine/spirits fumes, hoping it would take the edge off my stress.  It didn't.

And once all the boxes were packed and the furniture moved, it was always a shock to see the absolute FILTH we'd been living in.  Under the fridge, behind the TV, in the back corners of my kitchen cupboards...I'll spare you the details.  No matter how much I tried to clean beforehand, I always felt assaulted by the amount of cleaning that still needed to be done.  And this, after weeks of lurking in dumpsters and packing for hours every day.  It gives me a stomach ache just thinking about it.

So, allow me my Moment.  Sometimes angels take the form of three grinning, sweaty German men who smell like smoke and aren't fazed by the mess under Jessica's bed.  And their flaming chariot is a truck full of pristine packing boxes, bubble wrap, and packing paper.  This is pretty much my version of heaven this week.

The packers are coming first thing tomorrow morning, so today is our last day to get organized and make sure we have packed the things we don't want the movers to ship.  I'm also running the washing machine like a mad woman, trying to get towels and sheets washed before they are put into boxes for six weeks on a hot ship.  The thought of pulling out dirty linens in August gives me the willies.

There is nothing I dislike more than packing suitcases.  I hate trying to anticipate what everyone might need and running around the house making sure everything is packed.  So, it's safe to say that I hate today.

Here is the one bright spot:

 Denise and her cute mother-in-law showed up at my door this morning with pastries from her favorite German bakery.  Shortly after they left, I buried my face in that chocolate eclair (there was even chocolate creme on the inside - there are no words).  

Denise, you saved the day.

 So, this sign has appeared in front of our house, telling people that they can't park on the street here all next week.  The moving company put the signs up, so there will be room for their trucks on our narrow, narrow road.  There are also signs like this across the street, so nobody will park there, either.  Our street is so squishy that with a truck parked in front of our house, there is just enough room for one lane of cars to pass.  If anyone were to park on that side of the street, the whole road would be blocked.

These signs are taunting me.  Whenever I come home and see them, it is a reminder that next week is our last week here in Berlin.  This move is really going to happen.

OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH!!!!

OH. MY. GOSH!!!!!

Guess who was at Adam's baseball game today!!  

Only JON FREAKING BON JOVI!!!!

 (Thank you Lana for staging this photo and making sure I got a copy of it.  This was a terrible day for me not to have my camera.)

Apparently, Mr. Bon Jovi is a neighbor of the American ambassador to Germany (he's from New Jersey).  The ambassador has a son who is Adam's age, and today his team happened to be playing Adam's team.  When the ambassador walked up to the game with his usual entourage of security, a handsome man in a black t-shirt caught my eye.  It took me a minute to figure out who I was seeing, and then I freaked out.  I swallowed hard, tried to breathe, and squeaked to Susanne, "Um, is that Jon Bon Jovi?!?"  She glanced over, her eyes got really wide, and she replied, "Yes, it IS!"  

Cue flushed cheeks and the desire to squeal like teenage girls!

(Don't worry, we held it together.  It was hard, though.)

So, I spent the next hour and a half about 12 feet away from JON BON JOVI!  He stood leaning on the fence, watching the game with his back to me (he was wearing Levi's by the way.  I happened to notice). 

 I should mention that Jon has been on My List since it's first draft.  He is the only member of My List that I have never replaced.  So, we've had this special relationship for years.  It's quite beautiful, when you think about it.  

And today, I must commend Jon for his grace.  I mean, the chemistry between us was palpable, yet he was able to act like he didn't even notice me.  Anyone who didn't know our history would think he was a super cool rock star who didn't know or care about me at all.  Rather than make on-lookers feel uncomfortable, he did a superb job at acting like the woman sitting behind him grinning like a love-struck idiot (me) meant nothing to him.  He's a gentleman like that.

So, just in case you missed it...

  ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Oh, I assume Adam played baseball as well.

Today was my last visiting teaching appointment in Germany. 

 This is my VT partner Antje.  She has been a great friend to me here - she's the one who took me grocery shopping when we first moved here so I'd know what I was buying.  It has been a pleasure spending time with her every month visiting teaching.

(I will not miss doing our visits in German, however.  Or getting weighed.)

 This morning was Luke's end-of-the-year concert.

He's been practicing his songs at home, and was so proud to sing his little heart out.

I couldn't resist taking a photo of Abigail, Luke's teacher for his first two years of school.  This woman is AWESOME.  She was honestly born to be a preschool teacher.  

Abigail was Luke's teacher when he was three and four.  For the first half of his first year, I would go pick Luke up after lunch every day because I thought a seven hour school day was too much for a three-year-old.  One week in March, our car needed some work, so I had Luke stay all day at school and come home on the school bus with his siblings.  After the car was fixed, I went to the school as usual to pick Luke up after lunch.  He was furious with me, and yelled at me the whole way home for not letting him stay at school.  From that day on, Luke went to school full time.  

I really can't blame him for wanting to stay with Miss Abigail.  She is sweet, patient, ultra-loving, and very enthusiastic, and she brings her guitar to school everyday so the kids can help her make up songs.  And if that isn't enough, she spends her summers in Africa every year volunteering in orphanages.  Yeah, she's pretty much perfect.

 

When I dropped Pepper off at Young Men's tonight, it occurred to me that I ought to have a picture of our cute church building here in Berlin.  

This is the church backyard.  Last Sunday, there were some visitors from American Fork, UT here, and they were blown away that our church building has this little park area behind it rather than a parking lot.  That had never occurred to me.  They were also taken aback by all the little flowers on the lawn - in the States, those would be Weed-n-Feeded away in no time flat.  But here, the little weedy flowers are no big deal.  I was surprised at how defensive I felt when the visitors were sharing their opinions.  Even though they weren't being openly critical, I still got my dander up. 

 This little square/flower garden is at an intersection near my kids' school.  When we first moved here, there was a dumpy flower shop on this site, but it has since been torn down and replaced with this.  It is my favorite flower garden, because the flowers and plants are so unusual, and it serves no other purpose than to just be pretty on this little square of land - it's not a park or a business or anything else.  I'm going to miss the German appreciation of flowers for flowers' sake.

Pepper - so handsome in his new glasses!

In January 2009, Brad and I flew to Berlin for our Look-See Trip.  Brad had been offered the job here, and Daimler paid for us to come here for a week to check things out.  We arrived on a Saturday afternoon, and I was immediately overwhelmed at how different Germany is from the United States.  Our first night here, I didn't even want to go out for dinner, so we ordered room service and I cowered in our hotel room with a DVD.

The next morning was our only chance to go to church while we were here, so I gathered my courage and left the hotel room.  We arrived at the Dahlem chapel in time for Sunday school and sacrament meeting.

When Brad and I entered the chapel for sacrament meeting, the well-meaning man at the door gave us an English hymnbook, I'm sure with the intention of helping us feel more at home.  Instead, it made me feel like a complete fish-out-of-water, as I self-consciously sang different words than everyone else in the congregation.  I sat on the back row and looked around the chapel at all the scary Germans, thinking there was NO WAY I would ever feel like I belonged here.

The intermediate hymn that day was "How Firm a Foundation".  When I got to the second verse, the Holy Ghost gave me a well-timed stab to the heart.  These are the words I sang as I sat there on the back row in an old chapel in Berlin, Germany, wallowing in doubt:

In ev'ry condition, in sickness, in health,

In poverty's vale or abounding in wealth.

AT HOME OR ABROAD, ON THE LAND OR THE SEA

As thy days may demand...so thy succor shall be.

FEAR NOT, I AM WITH THEE, OH BE NOT DISMAYED

FOR I AM THY GOD, AND WILL STILL GIVE THEE AID.

I'LL STRENGTHEN THEE, HELP THEE, AND CAUSE THEE TO STAND,

UPHELD BY MY RIGHTEOUS...OMNIPOTENT HAND.

Each one of those word felt like a personal message, and I lost it.  I immediately descended into the Ugly Cry, and ducked out of the chapel in search of a bathroom for some tissue.  Just outside in the foyer, a man was standing with his naughty toddler, and he took one look at me and dug into his suit coat pocket to give me his trusty pocket packet of Kleenex (I have since learned that no self-respecting Good German is EVER without a trusty pocket packet of Kleenex).

Fast forward three and a half years.

A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in the same chapel in Berlin, Germany.  When it was time for the intermediate hymn, I unsuspectingly opened my little German hymnbook to the assigned page and began singing.  This time, I was singing the German words, probably massacring the pronunciation, but whatever. 

That's when I got another stab to the heart.  I suddenly realized I was singing "How Firm a Foundation", but even though I was in the same chapel, singing the same song, everything was different.

I looked around the Dahlem Ward, and instead of scary German strangers, I saw friends.  Behind me, to my left, sat our former stake president, who made it his business to know all my kids' names within two weeks of us moving there.  Right in front of me was a newly returned missionary who had been in the MTC with Brad's cousin.  Scattered throughout the chapel were my former institute students, women who had been my visiting teachers, and women I had grown to love as I served with them in callings.  On the front row, Pepper sat surrounded by the young men who had visited him in the hospital when he was diagnosed with his diabetes.  A few rows over was Jessica's former YW leader who had lovingly done everything she could think of to help Jess feel comfortable with the other young women, and next to her was the woman who took me grocery shopping when we first moved here, helping me read labels and making sure I bought what I thought I was buying.  On all sides were people who had come to the youth and adult dance classes I had been asked to teach (I'm sure I was asked because the ward was trying to find a way to include me), and had cheerfully endured my mostly-English-with-a-few-butchered-German-words instruction.  And, a few rows back, trying to keep their kids from destroying the translation head-phones, sat my American friends who after three years feel more like sisters than friends.

I lost it again.  But this time, when I descended into the Ugly Cry, I didn't run like a coward from the chapel.  I sat there with tears running down my face until Jess looked over, rolled her eyes, and asked me why I was crying.  I gave her an I-know-I'm-pathetic smile and reached into my church bag for my own trusty pocket packet of Kleenex.  

No self-respecting Good German is ever without one.

Saturday=four hours at the ballpark.

Luke's teeball team now gives each batter 3 pitches to see if they can hit it before they bring out the tee.  Lukie rocked it!

Adam's poor team played the best team in the league and pretty much got whooped.  It was a little bit ugly, except that my friend Susanne's son plays on that team, so we sat next to each other during the game and chatted each other up.

Basically, after my four hours at the ballpark, I went home with a slight sunburn, greasy mustard from my hot dog dribbled on my arm, two empty Coke Zero bottles, and cheeks that hurt from grinning.

I couldn't be happier.

I am thrilled to announce...

...the Return of the Apfeltasche!

The first year we lived here, I discovered these at our neighborhood bakery and fell completely in love.  Dangerously, passionately in love.  Then, for some crazy reason, when we came back from America in the Fall of 2010, they were gone.  Since then, whenever I passed the bakery counter, I'd check to see if they were back.  But, they never were...until today!  

 When I saw my little flaky, appley friends languishing under the display glass, I got a little flushed.  I am happy to say that we have picked up our romance right where we left off.

 Today was the elementary school end-of-the-year concert.  I got to go watch Adam sing his little heart out with the rest of the fifth grade.

Singing his solo.  I would be way too scared to sing a solo, but all the kids did it.

Adam also got to do a little rap solo.  He practiced and practiced this so he wouldn't trip over the words, and he did great!

The best part of today's concert was that Adam's grade was first, so I was able to be Super Supportive Mother, and then duck out early.  Officially, I just love watching ALL the children sing and perform, but realistically. . .well, you know. 

As our time here in Germany gets shorter and shorter, I find myself thinking often about The Things I'll Miss and The Things I Can't Wait to Leave Behind.

This post falls squarely in The Things I'll Miss category.

This particular delight is something I've just discovered.  I crave these rolls everyday for breakfast.  After I drop the kids at the bus, I will drive over to the bakery and pick up a couple of these crusty, sunflower-seedy, texturey rolls and take them home for breakfast with a cup of yogurt.  So good.  I can't believe I only found them in the last few weeks or so. 

 It's 6:20 p.m. and Lukie is dead asleep, fully dressed.  He was too tired to eat dinner or change into his PJ's.   Jet lag is especially brutal when you're five.

The kids and I are home and wandering around like zombies.  Jet-lag sucks.

Germany thinks it is 9:20 p.m., and Texas thinks it is 2:20 p.m.  Since I didn't get much sleep on the plane last night, I think it is bedtime.

 This is all I could think about ALL NIGHT LONG as I was sitting upright in an airplane seat, flying home to Berlin with Luke's feet in my ribs.

 Well, we can't be in Fort Worth without visiting the Stock Yards!  This is a rip-roaring part of town devoted to all things cowboy.  We loved it!

First, we had dinner at a local steakhouse, then we walked across the street to a rodeo at the Cowtown Colosseum. 

This photo was taken a split second before that bull finished the job.  What you think is about to happen...well, it happened.

Even Adam participated!  They invited all the kids ages 7-12 to come try to rip a ribbon off a terrified, running calf.  Adam made a good showing, but didn't take home any prize money tonight.  I'm not sure he knew what he was supposed to do.

About 30 minutes before the rodeo finished, poor Pepper's allergies were making him miserable.  So, he and I went outside and grooved to a live cowboy band while the rest of the family cheered on the barrel-racers. 

 Seriously, this place is so much fun!

 Tonight, we met my friend Colleen and her daughter K for ice cream.  Colleen and I are friends from Michigan; she moved to Texas at about the same time we moved to Germany.  She is a teacher in the Fort Worth area, so she's been a wealth of information about the schools around here.

Plus, she's just plain cool.  And even cooler now that she has a slight Texas twang.