Driving

Today was my first day driving stick alone. I had finished my lessons at the driving school, and I had been practicing with Paul in the car. When we woke up this morning and it was raining, and with a little encouragement from Paul, I decided to be brave and drive Max to Spielgruppe (pre-school).

I stalled at every intersection, and I was honked at by numerous motorists. Max, to his delight, learned a new explicative on our way, and every time I stalled, he would say it in unison with me. I wonder if the teacher will notice... hmmmm.

I was shaking by the time we reached school, and though the drive home was much smoother, I can still feel my heart pounding. I need a little more practice before I do that again.

Learning How to Drive, Once Again

For the better part of the last year, Paul and I have been debating about whether to buy a car or move closer into the city.  We loved the idea of having a small carbon blue print, not to mention minimal transportation costs.  Moving into the city has its additional benefits of being closer to things like restaurants and shopping.  However transporting two small children around the city via public transportation had become burdensome, an enormous time suck and incredibly stressful.  Finally the car won out.

However, I hate driving, I always have.  My first day of drivers education back when I was 15 1/2 years old, my instructor Mr. Norman screamed "JUMPING CATFISH, JUDAS PRIEST and JIMINY CRICKET" from the passenger's seat at regular intervals.  I went home that afternoon crying, and swore that I would never return to driving school.  Luckily my oldest and wiser sister dangled the carrot of freedom in front of me, persuading me to return with a new determination to learn. 

Sixteen years later, Paul and I bought a manual transmission car, and once again I am learning how to drive.  Luckily, my drivers license transferred from Virginia, so I did not have to pay for the very expensive German driving classes and tests.  However, to preserve our marriage, we decided it was best for me to learn how to drive stick with a professional.  Not only would we have been screaming at each other within a half-hour, but I am learning on a transmission that belongs to someone else.

This past Thursday was my first time driving. Overall, I'm doing much better than the first time I drove automatic.  The biggest problem I'm having is that I keep stalling at intersections.  Sixteen years of driving automatic, and my instinct is to ease up on the brake when the light turns on green.  This does not work with a manual transmission.  Luckily, my instructor is no Mr. Norman, and she was very calm and collected every time I stalled the car.

After my first class, I was relieved that I had taken the class with a professional.  While, I realize that we might end up spending almost as much on lessons as we would have to buy an automatic, I feel like I am learning an invaluable skill.  I am hoping that with this new skill, I will feel like I have better control of the car, and maybe I will enjoy driving just a little more.

Rodel Schlitten

Every once in a while, there is something about living in Munich that I find very endearing.  Right now, it is seeing the parents pulling their children around on Rodelschlitten, what we in the States would consider an old fashioned wooden toboggan.  It looks like a snapshot of the past.  Only, the classic American Wooden Toboggan, as seen here is nothing like the Classic German Rodelschlitten here. 

Our former neighbor still has the two Rodelschlitten that she used as a child.  Last year she lent us one for Max.  After falling off of it once face first, it was hard to convince him to get back on.  The only way he would ride it is if I heaved my big pregnant body on it and rode behind him on the sled, poor Paul pulling both our weights.

This year, however has been a different story.  Over the weekend, I borrowed another neighbor's Rodelschlitten, outfitted it with Max's Fußsack, a heavily insulated sleeping bag type thing, that is usually in his stroller, and stuffed him in it for the morning.  We trekked through the local forest, and Max had a fabulous time, even though I was quite tired by the end of the two hour haul.

Sledding is taken much more seriously here. Growing up, I used a $5 roll-up sled to cruise down the hills.  Here, the average child Rodelschlitten starts at about €40, but I've seen some Rodelschlitten costing upwards of €300.  However, these sleds aren't just used for the kids to slide down hills.  People use their Rodelschlitten instead of strollers, to pulling their groceries home, and I'm getting the impression that sledding is treated as a serious sport.

Getting Out of the House with Two Small Children

There are certain laws that seem to govern getting out of our house with two small children. The first being that it always takes at least an hour long to get out of our house than I think it’s going to take. If I am smart, I do as much of the preparation to get out of the house the night before, i.e. give baths, pick out clothes, pack diaper bag, fix drinks and snacks etc. This works well for planned trips, but doesn’t work so well for the more spontaneous trips like a walk to the park or running to the store because I ran out of saline solution three days ago, and forgot to pick it up the last two times I was out.

The second law is that once I have everything ready to go, and I am about to leave the house I realize that I forgot something, and I run back to get it, probably putting down whatever was in my hand, like my umbrella or pacifier on my way to retrieve it.

The third law is that by the time I have retrieved that umbrella or pacifier or whatever it is that I put down when I went back to get whatever it was that I forgot, one of the children have messed their diaper, so I have to take both children back inside again. This has become even more complicated in the winter, when I have to strip off winter coat, boots, snow pants, mittens, hat and scarf to change the offending diaper. By the time I’ve changed the diaper and gotten winter gear back on, the other child has messed their diaper, and I have to go through the whole process of undressing and redressing again. Finally both children are ready to go and a bit fussy because they are so warm inside with all their gear on, and I am sweating buckets, because I didn’t bother to take off my winter gear during all the rushing around and changing of diapers. Sometimes I try to take short-cuts and leave mittens on, or only pull down the pants and snow-pants instead of completely removing them, but this is a mistake because inevitably I will end up with poop on one of these irreplaceable items, making the rest of my trip and therefore my day unpleasantly smelly.

The fourth law is that whatever the meteorologist posted on wetter.com about the weather, I can almost guarantee that when I get outside exactly the opposite is happening. So, once outside I am stripping the children and changing them into something more comfortable, or getting their coats, hats and gloves on. Being an experienced car-less mother who depends on stroller transportation, I keep all forms of gear for every curve ball Mother Nature can throw at me tucked into my stroller and diaper bag for just such an occasion.

The fifth law is really more of an addition to the fourth law, saying that whatever the weather looks like outside of my window or out on my balcony, by the time I get all the children and their gear down the elevator, down the front stairs and outside, the weather has changed.

The sixth law is that I will reach the bus stop just in time to see my bus whiz by. I probably saw this coming, but there was really nothing I could do about it because I was too far away to run with the heavily laden stroller and two small children strapped in. Luckily the bus comes every ten minutes, and if I am really lucky I will sit in the bus stop with some chain smoking old lady who feels it her duty to tell me 101 reasons why I shouldn’t have my children out in this weather. Being a non-German speaker, I smile pleasantly nodding my head, and say in heavily accented German, “Tut me leid. Mein Deutsch ist nicht sehr gut.“ At which point I usually receive a “Humph,” and a disdainful look meaning ‘When you live in Germany, you should speak German.’ If I am having an especially lucky day, the stranger recognizes my English accent and switches to English, and then I’m forced into yet another lengthy conversation about why it is so important for me, especially as a mother, to learn the language, as if I didn’t already know that. Please tell me when a mother of two children two and under has the time to learn more of the language than just what is needed to get by.

The seventh law is that because I missed my bus, I will miss my next transfer as well, spend at least thirty minutes of uncalculated time waiting on transportation, and finally arrive at my destination an hour later than planned, only to realize that the drinks and snacks I packed the night before are still sitting inside the fridge back at home.

Arriving in Dulles with Porter

Home again, home again, jiggedy jig...

Mistakenly, I though the return trip would be easier. It's an overnight flight, so the kids would sleep, right? Wrong. Though they are both exhausted, they are too keyed up to actually sleep. And since everyone else on the flight is sleeping there is no one to help me when Maggie has another blow out diaper. I drag a now, barefoot Max to the airplane bathroom, trying not to think about what he is probably stepping in, as I lock all three of us in the cramped space. While I strip Maggie of her clothes, and wash off the poop that has traveled up her back, Max entertains himself by pulling the toilet paper off the roll and throwing it into the sink.

When we finally clear up our mess and try to awkwardly exit the bathroom through the accordion door, Max takes off running again. Luckily this time, he runs to the back of the plane, and the one grandmother on the plane wakes up and tries to grab him. When she misses, I unceremoniously dump Maggie in her lap and take off after Max, before he can make it around the back of the plane and up the aisle on the other side into first class again. Once I safely buckle him back into his seat belt which is no match for a two year old escape artist, I make him a

nest with his pillow and blanket, and out of pure exhaustion he finally passes out. I retrieve Maggie from the grandmother across the aisle, and nurse her back to sleep. For the remaining two hours of the flight, I watch the documentary This Is It about Michael Jackson.

When we finally land in Munich, a very nice flight attendant helps me bundle the kids up and exit the plane. Of course no one had bothered to unlock the elevator, so I had to back the stroller up three escalators with Maggie dangling out of the Ergo, a diaper bag hanging over one shoulder, Max's pillow in the bottom of the stroller, and the bag of toys in the other hand.

When we got to the baggage claim, I practically begged the security agent to let me deliver the children to their father on the other side before I picked up my baggage, but he instead in his best pissed off voice told me that it was absolutely impossible, because I was in a secure area. So, another father took pity on me, and sent his teenage daughter back with me to retrieve my five suitcases. It turned out that because the plane had arrived half an hour early, Paul wasn't there yet anyways, so the very tired kids and I waited patiently for Paul to show up twenty minutes later. And after a very harrowing drive home with an insane taxi driver, we finally arrived home and I promptly passed out.

A One Way Ticket to Crazy

The kids and I just returned from a seven week visit to the States. Long visits like this were a promise we made to our parents to try to assuage our guilt about moving to Germany. Paul's German contract promised him six weeks of vacation along with a slew of holidays. A long trip back home would give us more quality time with our families than the occasional weekend visit.

The only way Paul agreed to letting the kids and I go that long was if I was willing to split the difference. So Paul came three weeks in the middle, meaning that I did both flights alone with the kids. I had flown alone with Max once before, and while it was not easy, it was not impossible. When I agreed to doing it with two children, I must have had a momentary lapse of sanity. But what was done, was done, and since we purchased the economy non-refundable, non-changeable tickets, there was no backing out.

Thank God they were direct flights, so I did not have to make a connecting flight by myself. Just like any other day when I am managing the kids by myself, the key to success is organization. So, first I tried to minimize the amount of luggage I was taking with me, which ended up being a car seat and four suitcases, two of which were filled with Christmas presents and other things for friends and family. On the way back, we left the car seat behind, because as it turns out it was only approved for use in the United States anyway, but we picked up a fifth suitcase because the obscene amount of Christmas presents we received for the kids.

Carrying on the flight, I brought only the bare essentials: one diaper bag, one bag of toys, winter coats and trappings for all three of us, as well as necessary restraining devices like the Ergo and the stroller.

The last time Paul and I flew back from the States, we fed Max so much to drink that by the time we reached security his diaper had leaked, and we had no spare set of clothes in our carry on. We ended up running around the airport to try and find him some clothes, and ended up purchasing a tourist sweatshirt four sizes to big, and stuffing him in his sleep sack for the flight.

This time I was careful to monitor both kids liquid intake, check their diapers regularly and bring extra clothes in the diaper bag, just in case. And, it's a good thing considering Maggie had a blow out mid-flight. Getting through security and walking to our connecting flight went fairly well. Max only ran away from me when we were waiting to board the plane.

Another mother looked on sympathetically, and pointing to her teenage son saying, "He use to run away from me all the time." If there is one thing I have learned about trans-Atlantic flights is to depend on the kindness of strangers. I immediately befriended this mother and her children. She had been there before me, and no one can relate to me like another mother. Besides that, her eleven old daughter loves children and babies and could not wait to play with my kids. There were also a slew of other grandmothers on the flight that quickly offered to help me by holding the baby while I rushed to the cramped bathroom to change Max's diaper. I also quickly enlisted the help of a college kid who was sitting next to me to keep an eye on Max when I needed to change Max's diaper.

Max was great for the most part. Yes there was some whining, crying and general disobedience, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, or anything I couldn't handle. The only time things got hairy was when Max peeled off, running gleefully up the aisle through business class and straight into first class. I didn't think it was the right thing to yell at him and wake up all the passengers in business and first class, so I followed along as quietly and quickly as I could with Maggie dangling from one arm, using the other arm to try and grab a weaving and dodging Max. It wasn't until we reached the glut of first class flight attendants, that someone intervened, "Ma'am, Ma'am, you can't be up here." As apologetically as I could manage in my somewhat exasperated state, "I know, I'm sorry, he got away from me." The very nice flight attendant grabbed Max's hand and cho-cho trained him back to our seat.

It was on this journey to and back from first class that I noticed that there was a kids movie on one of the channels. When I got Max back into his seat, I tried to find the movie, and when I realized that the channel wasn't working for either my seat or Max's seat, I called for the flight attendant. I should have realized from past experience this call button is completely useless. Either the flight attendants pay absolutely no attention to it, or they just assume that Max is playing with one of the buttons.

So I finally flag down one of the flight attendants, and she tells me that they can't do anything about it until they reset the movies for the next run. The next run comes, and nothing has changed, so I flagged down another attendant. This one tells me, that she can't do anything until they reset the movies for the third run. This time, the desperation starts to creep into my voice, "But I already told one of the other flight attendants this was a problem, it is the only movie appropriate for him."

So, she tells me she will see what she can do, and she comes back to me five minutes later apologizing, saying that she is going to try and reset the movie to another channel for the third run, but she can't do anything until then, because it would disrupt the rest of the passengers movies, and there aren't and other free seats in the airplane. As a conciliation she gives me a postcard of appreciation for my understanding. Great, meantime what am I supposed to do? I know, I'll let Max play with the post card, I'm sure it will entertain him for all of three seconds.

At this point the eleven year old girl comes up and offers to play with the kids in the aisle, and I have a moment of calm. Finally we land, and I know it is only an hour or two before we get through immigration, baggage claim and customs. Max is a champ, the eleven year old girl entertains him while I hunt down a United Airlines porter in the mess of what is Dulles international baggage claim. The porter helps me with my luggage, and gets us through customs quickly to the waiting and very expectant hugs and kisses of grandparents.

Weeks later that postcard of appreciation for my understanding resurfaces, and I visit the United website to claim whatever the voucher is for. Oh fabulous, it is for 10% off any international flight originating in the United States. Too bad, I live in Germany.

And then there were six

No, I'm not pregnant with twins. I'm talking about the sixth stroller that has been added to our ever growing collection of strollers. Sadly, the double stroller that I was so proud of turned into a piece of junk. The metal was cheap; the front axle kept bending causing the front wheel pop off at inopportune times like when running to catch the bus.

Thankfully the first time, Paul was with me, and he picked up the front end, and the two of us managed to make the bus. Our planned trip to Starnberg was cancelled, but we did manage to re-attach the wheel long enough to get to the city park. All I had to do was push down slightly on the back handle so that most of the weight was on the back two wheels, not a long term solution by any means. When we were in the park, we bent the axel back by wedging it against the concrete enforcements of a park bench.

If we could manually bend the axel back into place, it probably wouldn't take much to bend it again, and it did. The next time the axel bent, I recognized the tell tale wobbliness, and I managed to get home before the wheel popped off. Since then I've refused to take the stroller out for anything more than a walk around the block. Since Max can handle a walk around the block, the stroller has been collecting dust in our bike room.

I've been using the single stroller to get back and forth to Max's Spielgruppe, and this has caused both Max and I to end up in tears multiple times. So, we've purchased a new double stroller, the Phil & Ted's Sport with double's kit, one of the strollers I "reviewed" last time, but wasn't overly thrilled with. I'm still not happy about the expense, or the fact that the front wheel doesn't lock, or that it isn't super maneuverable, but at least I can be sure that the front wheel won't fall off mid-transit.

By now, Paul and I have spent enough money trying not to buy an expensive stroller that we could have purchased two Bugaboos. So, here is my word of advice to all new parents who are looking for a stroller. Invest in a good stroller. Invest in a stroller that is going to be worth something on the second-hand market. A friend of mine sold her Bugaboo and used the money from the sale to purchase her double stroller when her second child was born.

ETA: Just wanted to let everyone know that someone commented and told me that you can lock the front wheel. There is a little knob underneath you can twist to do it. It's not been much fun to kneel down in the snow to lock it before getting on the bus though, so I generally don't. So far my only complaint about the stroller is that the brake only locks one wheel, which isn't so great on the bus. I put my foot behind the wheel when we are on the bus. This might be unique to my Phil & Ted's, as my friend who has the Vibe doesn't have the same problem.

PANIC and running around aimlessly

My first day alone with the two children, and we ended up going to the emergency room before we'd even reached lunchtime. While I was attending Baby Maggie, my two-year-old, Max, got into his father's backpack and swallowed an unknown amount of hand-sanitizer. He ran into me crying, holding the half empty bottle trying to get it out of his mouth.

The hardest part about being in a foreign country where you don't speak the language, is dealing with emergencies,

My first reaction was to PANIC and run aimlessly around the apartment half-crazed, while trying to peel back the label for the promised "additional drug facts." After the 30 seconds which felt like forever it took me to peel back the label I read "Keep out of the reach of children. If swallowed, get medical help or contact a Poison Control Center immediately."

My reaction more PANIC and more running aimlessly around the apartment half-crazed. I didn't know the phone number to a German poison control, nor can I speak German to someone on the phone. Not being able to use body language makes it almost impossible to communicate even with people who understand English pretty well.

My brain addled by the PANIC I was still feeling, I called my husband. He told me to call the ambulance, which was a pretty appropriate response to the amount of PANIC I was conveying over the phone, though not appropriate to the situation. Max was showing no signs or symptoms of being poisoned and was immensely enjoying chasing his wild eyed mother around the apartment.

The PANIC and running aimlessly around the house half-crazed briefly paused, and I told Paul I was going to call the pediatrician. This led to more PANIC and more running aimlessly around the apartment half-crazed in a wild search for my wallet which has the pediatrician's card on it, because when I am in PANIC mode, my brain can't compute the obvious. The wallet was in my bag where it belongs.

I tried calling, but after ringing a couple times, I got a strange message in German, and elevator music which is not at all soothing while PANICKING and running aimlessly around the apartment half-crazed because your two-year-old just swallowed an unknown amount of hand sanitizer. I hung up and dialed again, and got the same result. More PANIC, more running around aimlessly. I called Paul back and was met by a busy signal. More PANIC, more running around aimlessly.

Not sure what to do, I attempted the pediatrician again, at which point Paul showed up on call waiting. I told him I couldn't get through to the pediatrician, and he sensibly asked me if the pediatrician was open. I retorted, "Of course, the pediatrician is open." He suggested going straight to the pediatrician's office instead of calling.

My addled brain responded with, "THAT ISN'T EXACTLY EASY WITH TWO KIDS," no car, a stroller in the basement bike-room, and at least 30 minute door-to-door commute if I catch the bus at the exactly right moment.

His response, "That isn't the point, is it?"

My response, "Sometimes I hate you for bringing me here where I feel so helpless," which was really my way of saying, "I hate that you are being reasonable, while I am PANICING and running around the apartment aimlessly half-crazed." So I hung up and accidentally turned the phone off, which meant more PANIC and more running around aimlessly because I had to search in our file cabinet for the stupid pin number to turn the phone back on, because I can never remember it. Who puts stupid pin numbers on cell phone anyways?

After more PANIC and more running around aimlessly, I found the pediatrician's card that I had set down in the bathroom during a previous episode of PANIC and running around aimlessly. I looked at the back and realized that the pediatrician’s office was about to close for lunch and wouldn't be open again for another three-and-a-half hours, enough time for the hand-sanitizer to take effect, and my child would no longer be laughing while chasing his wild eyed mother around the apartment.

I called Paul back, and told him that I had to go to the emergency room. Still the voice of calm and reason, he told me he would call a Taxi when I was ready. So after I retrieved the baby's car seat from the attic and put shoes on Max and me, I made sure I had my wallet with health insurance cards, when I realized that I didn't have any cash. More PANIC and more running around aimlessly, I called Paul and told him I didn't have any cash to take a taxi. Still calm and reasonable, he told me to ask the Taxi to take me to a bank.

Once I was in the taxi, the PANIC and aimless running around subsided, because I now had a sense of direction, but mostly because I was restrained by the seat-belt. Max was sitting in the taxi's car seat happily babbling away about taxis and autos. We got to the children's hospital, and we were almost immediately triaged in to see a doctor. This was disappointing to Max who was having fun riding the carousel in the waiting room.

After the doctor contacted a Berlin Poison Institute about Max's choice of poison, she informed me that the amount missing from the 1oz bottle wasn't enough to do any harm. She still did a full examination of him to make sure that he wasn't showing any signs or symptoms of poisoning, and with a reassuring smile she told me that every child this age swallows something like this.

Crisis averted.

Stroller Poor

When I purchased our fourth stroller, I thought it would be our last. I had no idea that I was already pregnant with my second child. We weren't trying to get pregnant at the time, and we thought by the time baby number two would come along, that Max would no longer need to ride in a stroller. So when we found out that Maggie was on her way, we started to explore how we could avoid getting a fifth stroller.

Our first attempt was to get the Buggy Board, a little board attached to the stroller where the older child can stand. Max did really well on the first test run. He seemed to really enjoy riding the stroller this way, until we reached a familiar path, and Max decided he would prefer to walk on his own. This made it enormously more difficult since Max likes to wander around taking his time picking up rocks and inspecting the bugs.

Paul decided we needed to "train" him to stay on the buggy board. That weekend we took Max shopping. He did great getting there, though it took all four hands to pop him on the bus, followed by the stroller, parking the stroller and getting him seated. Still, something I would be able to manage by myself with practice. Then we go to DM (a kind of CVS) where we needed to pick up a few things. As soon as we entered, Max popped off the buggy board. We tried to convince him to stay on the buggy board, but half way through the store he was too distracted to cooperate anymore. So, our next solution was to try him on the child size shopping carts. Max bounced around the store like a pin ball. Watching him run at full speed pushing the shopping cart through everyone and everything in his way was entertaining, but not practical.

Our next thought was to teach him to walk next to us while we pushed the stroller, holding his hand. Trying to convince a two year old to stay with you when there are so many tantalizing things on the shelves is harder than convincing U.S. Congressmen to impose term limits in Congress. Our next thought was to give him something to occupy his hands, so we picked the biggest item from our shopping bag, and gave that to him to carry. This actually worked several times, and it seemed we had a solution to shopping with our two-year-old on the loose.

Several times Paul and I ventured out with Max, strollerless. Usually our trips ended with Paul carrying Max home on his shoulders or asleep in his arms. Still we kept our heads in the sand, convinced that we would be able to get Max used to the buggy board or walking along side us.

Then Maggie was born. I could carry Maggie in a sling, and push Max in the stroller. This worked the first couple times, until I tried to go down the escalator at the train station. When I would bend over to hold the stroller, I had to use one of my hands to keep the baby from falling out of the sling. Max's safety now depended on my other hand holding the precariously perched stroller on the escalator. On shorter shopping trips I put Max on the buggy board and Maggie in the stroller. Max's first time off the buggy board, I gave him a giant bottle of water to keep his hands occupied. Shortly afterwards he had managed to pick up a Snickers bar and would have fit a few other items under his chin given more time.

The last straw was on the way home, when in typical two-year-old fashion, Max kicked and screamed in my arms the whole way home, while my mother pushed the baby stroller. This was the last straw. My mother wasn’t going to be in Germany forever to help me. I needed a double stroller with all the features I described here, and it needed to seat two children. There isn't a single double stroller that fits into our elevator, so I would have to enter the building via the garage and leave the stroller in the bike room. Still there were features we couldn’t live without, like big wheels for getting on and off the bus and trains. All the inexpensive tandems out there didn't have big wheels, and few of them are designed to balance on the back wheels long enough to ride down the escalator.

There was one stroller, the Phil and Ted's stroller that is ingeniously designed, with an sibling seat that fits under the stroller, but after seeing one in person, and its design flaws, I didn't feel like it was worth the money, 800€ after adding all necessary accessories. We didn’t want to pay that price when we hopefully won't be using the stroller for more than a year-and-a-half.

So it we started looking at side-by-side strollers with necessary feature, like the TFK, Urban Jungle or Easy Walker, but those prices were still sky-high. We looked at E-Bay and visited a family selling their double stroller. Even second hand, we were looking at spending at least 6oo€ for something we wouldn't use for very long.

We briefly considered buying Chariot’s bike trailer that doubles as a buggy. 1000€ doesn’t seem so bad, when a bike trailer can hold the children up until they are about six-years-old, and afterwards can be used to lug around groceries or any number of items you might want to take along with you on a bike ride. This we would be getting a lot more mileage for our money, but it was still a lot of cash, when we are trying to save for a car.

So back to the drawing board and after a full days search online, I found a little known stroller company, which makes the Crown. It still doesn't fit into the elevator, but it had all the desirable features plus some extra perks, and with all the accessories and shipping cost only 350€. The only thing I would change about the stroller is to make a larger storage compartment and to go back to one of their older models where they have two front wheels, not just one. Two wheels makes it much more stable when going up escalators or getting on to buses.

Now if only Pasing Bahnhof would finish the construction on their escalators and elevator, I’d be set.

Update: Within 3 months of purchasing this stroller, it started to fall apart, and I regret not buying a more expensive stroller.

We have a fully functioning new computer...

...in German.

We recently purchased a new desktop computer to replace our barely functioning notebook. My notebook was getting so bad, that most of the letters had faded off the keys, the Z key went missing, the left mouse button only worked when it felt like it, and there were many many things I could no longer do on my laptop. It was time for the old girl to be retired.

Generally we put a lot of research and thought into a purchase of this size. However, as it happens our new computer ended up being a total impulse purchase. We happened to be in Le Buffet the restaurant at the top of Karstadt Hauptbahnhof Saturday night. As I was heading for the escalators, I went by the computer section noticing that many of their computers were on sale at a fraction of their original cost, and before we left, I dragged Paul back through the computer section.

We talked to the computer sales person for awhile, and he showed us a couple models to choose between. We decided to go home and talk about it, and come back the following weekend to make our purchase. However, for some reason, we decided to turn around right then and go back and make the purchase. It ended up being the last model other than the display model, they had in the store. The poor sales guy was trying to go home, and the store was closing, but the manager decided to let us purchase it anyways.

After we lugged it home, or Paul lugged it home via S-Bahn, bus and trail, in a drizzling rain, we were too exhausted to unpack it and set it up. The following morning, we tried to set up a computer in a language we barely know. Not only were we trying to translate German, but we were trying to translate German computer speak, or more specifically German Microsoft speak which is confusing enough on its own.

The first thing we tried to do was change the operating language from German to English, not realizing that you can't do that in Windows Vista Home operating system without an upgrade and purchasing a language pack. We did manage to change the keyboard to a US English keyboard, which isn't helpful at all since it's a German keyboard. I also managed to accidentally delete the German keyboard settings, which Paul somehow magically fixed.

Next we tried the Internet. So far, we've been able to just plug in our USB cable into my laptop and Paul's work laptop without a problem; this wasn't the case with the new computer. The new computer kept saying it didn't recognize the network. So after doing a snails paced search on the Internet, we uncovered all kinds of problems that people have had with their Internet and Windows Vista, and the network card. We also called a couple of our computer nerd friends and family, but they weren't able to help us either.

We were dreading contacting Karstadt, and HP to try and resolve the issue through broken German, but Paul was going to do suffer through it, and he was going to lug the new computer back to the store so they could show him how to fix the problem. He emailed HPs support desk and gave them my contact info so they could contact me during the day. So today after I received HPs email, I logged on to the new computer to tell the the exactly error message we were getting, and suddenly the Internet was working!

I have no idea how it resolved itself, and I don't care. Now if I can just get used to the German keyboard.

The Story of Four Strollers

In Munich, without a car, you depend wholly on walking and public transportation. The quality of public transportation here is so high, that you can get from almost any point to another point via a complex web of trams, buses and trains. If you have a small child, a stroller becomes essential to life. You will likely depend on this form of transportation until your child is three even four years old, possibly even longer. You will use your stroller until your child has the stamina and speed to keep up with you for approximately 1 mile or 2 km stretches.

Purchasing a stroller in Munich is much like purchasing an auto, you need to consider your needs before shopping for the perfect stroller. What kind of terrain will you be crossing? Will you be need to go up and down stairs, will you have a lift(elevator)? Will you be riding the bus/tram/train with the stroller? Will you ever have to carry the stroller with child inside? Is the stroller for an infant or child? How many children do you want to put in the stroller? What kind of storage space will you need below the stroller? Will you be walking, jogging, grocery shopping or going to festivals with your stroller? Where will you park your stroller? Finally there are the amenities to consider, cup holders, one hand steering, location of breaks, adapters for car seats, rain covers, mosquito nets, diaper bags designed specifically for the storage, size of wheels, number of wheels, and believe it or not even sound systems.

So the last time we lived in Munich (Munich Part I), we discovered Kindermarkts, second-hand childrens markets held at various times through out the city in churches, city parks etc. Being the poor students we were, excited about the money we were going to save, we went to our first Kindermarkt. The first mistake we made, was arriving late in the morning. Veterans of Kindermarkts know that the early bird gets the worm. The second mistake we made, was not doing any research or asking any of the Questions, so we had no idea what we were looking for. The third mistake we made was buying impulsively (much like we bought our last two houses).

Very proud of ourselves for the money we saved, we took our stroller home. We got home only to realize that the fabulous shocks on the stroller, made it impossible to get up the three stairs in the lobby to the lift. If I pushed down on the handle bar to lift the front wheels, the wheels stayed on the ground. If I lifted up on the handle bar to raise the back wheels, the wheels stayed on the ground. $%*&, this was not going to work. Between the two of us, we were able to take the stroller and park it in our basement storage area, until we decided what to do with it.

We needed to find another stroller. So, Paul asked around at MIPLC, where to find some baby stores in Munich? The staff recommended Schlichting on Weinstr. near Marienplatz. It was only the most expensive and overpriced baby store in the whole of Bavaria, though at the time we didn’t know any better. When we looked at the price tags, we fell over. There wasn’t a stroller there for less than € 700, unless you counted the umbrellas strollers, which were still a good € 6o and not suitable for a new born. And the cribs were insanely priced as well. Having a baby was going to be very expensive in Munich, how were we going to be able to afford this? We left this store sticker shocked and depressed. Our baby was going to have to sleep in a box, wear hand stitched clothes sewn out of my old clothes, and we’d have to carry the baby everywhere we went.

Internet to the rescue! Surly I could find something online more in our price range. I searched on Ebay.de. The first mistake we made was not translating every word in the descriptions. The second mistake we made was not finding a model of the stroller in the store to a) compare prices, and b) be able to test drive it. The third mistake we made was buying impulsively (do you see a trend here?). So we ended up buying a second-hand Mutsy Urban Rider jogger complete with hard bassinet, chair, two different hoods, a warm weather cover for the bassinet, attachments for a car seat, and a fußack.

A fußack (sounds like feuss-sack) is essentially a warm and fuzzy sleeping bag that fits into the stroller chair to keep babies warm in cold weather, very necessary when your stroller is your main transportation in Munich. All of this was less than half what it would have cost brand new (if they still sold this model, which they hadn't for several years). The canvas materials were perfect, practically new, couldn’t tell at all that it had been used. The wheel spokes were corroded, not badly enough to compromise the strollers integrity, but an eye sore.

The hand break was broken, not a big deal, since I wasn’t really planning on going jogging, but would have come in handy on some of the big hills in Olympia park. The brakes on the wheels were bent out of wack, and didn’t actually fit into the wheels, so they were ineffective especially on the crazy turns of Munich bus drivers, but of course I didn’t realize this until after I almost lost the baby and stroller and took a row of people out on the bus. My husband and father later fixed it with a hand wrench.

The stroller had the option to pivot, but not on the front wheels, but the back wheels. This was awkward and difficult to control in tight situations, so we ended up keeping the pivot locked and wrestling with the stroller to get it to turn. It was much heavier than the strollers currently on the market, but with the big pneumatic tires it was still manageable to climb up the stairs. The storage underneath was adequate, but not great. The folding mechanism was really difficult even after we figured out how it works. And finally, the stroller was huge, making it very difficult to manage in the aisles of grocery stores and trams, it didn‘t fit into all lifts, and Max and I almost bit it on a narrow escalator in a local department store. Imagine the looks on the German middle aged women, when I almost catapulted my 6 week baby out of the bassinet.

Never-the-less, after € 300 invested into two strollers, I had to live with the Mutsy, and I got used to it. It was great on all terrains. I could part crowds of people like the Red Sea, and when we returned to the States, it was perfect. I had my car, and the only time I needed the Mutsy was for Buggy Busters, an exercise class in the park.

Fast forward to Munich Part II. My dear and darling husband, Paul, moved to Munich ahead of us, leaving Max and I to tie up all the loose ends in the States. This also meant that I was alone on the eight hour flight to Munich with a sixteen month old (who by the way isn‘t yet walking), our dog Asia, her crate, a car seat, three suit cases, and a stroller. I decided to nix the stroller, and opted for the Kelty carrier instead, packing the stroller in the container to be shipped to our door step in Munich. However, I soon realized, with the travel time it took for the container to get to the docks and be loaded, the container ship to sale to Northern Germany, and then to be driven down to Southern Germany, where we lived, that we were talking several weeks, possibly months in Munich sans stroller. This was not going to work. There was no way I was going to haul my 25 pound/11 kilo boy around on my back in Munich.

So, I decided to purchase an umbrella stroller, easy to travel with. I was able to fold it and throw it up on a top of a luggage cart. At the airport, after only a few bleary hours of sleep, with a very tired Max in the Kelty, I managed to inch my way towards customs by taking turns pushing the two luggage carts 10 meters at a time. Luckily a really nice person offered to help me to customs after I was half way across the floor, and afterwards a customs official took me out to meet Paul. I was really glad that I didn’t have the Mutsy with me too.

Ahhh, we’ve arrived in Munich, now all we have to do is suffer the umbrella stroller until the Mutsy gets here. The cobblestones are beating it up, the wheels are about to pop off, and I have to lift it over curbs, but it’s temporary. Oh, but wait, what’s this? Paul has rented our apartment for us ahead of time, but didn’t think to make sure it would accommodate our stroller. The are seven steps up to the lift, ten steps down to the basement, the lift is too small for the Mutsy, and we live on the fourth floor. Nor did he realize that there are no escalators or lifts at the local train station, meaning I have to carry the stroller up about 30 steps, or ask in my broken German for someone to help me. When I found this out (the hard way, by trial), I called Paul about to cry. As luck would have it escalators and lifts are being added to our train station, but not to our apartment building. Nor is there any convenient place to store the stroller near the front door of the building.

So here are our options, I could store the Musty in our parking spot, but we’re renting it out to someone else. I could store the Mutsy in the bike room off of the parking garage and go through the garage door. Then I can run the grocery bags and other shopping through the garage, into our building, leave the groceries next to the basement lift, run back to the stroller get Max, run to the… oh wait, $%*&, that’s not going to work either. So I guess our other option is to invest in our fourth stroller.

So, this time, oh no, we’re not making any of the mistakes we made with our first two purchases. We have spent many days visiting every store in the city that sells strollers, sometimes twice. We’re asking all the questions and measuring the strollers up, down, backwards and forward, and hopefully this time we’ll get the perfect stroller. Since we eventually plan on having another child, should we get a stroller that has the baby bassinet as well as the chair? We might still be in this apartment, so it would be silly to invest in another stroller, but than have to buy yet another one that will work for an infant. We considered even purchasing a double stroller, but the double strollers are all too big for the elevator. Luckily there is this hand little stand you can attach to your stroller and Max can stand on it when his little sibling comes along.

We think we’ve found stroller that meets most of our needs. It can handle all terrains from gravel to cobble stones. The back wheels are large, so it will easily go up and down the stairs. The base is one of the smallest ones out there, as small as our umbrella stroller, so it will fit into the elevator. It‘s a fairly compact stroller, and it has swivel wheels in the front, so it will handle the aisles of grocery stores and trams easily. It’s only 11 kilos/ 25 lbs., so in terms of strollers this kind, it’s pretty light. It has great storage space, and you can raise the seat/bassinet to add even more. And I’ll be honest the first thing that got me looking at the this particular brand of stroller was that one of the models is wired for your I’Pod so you can play music to your child. Unfortunately the one wired for I’Pod doesn’t have big enough wheels. So, based on our extensive research, it looks like the I’Coo Targo City will be stroller number four. Now we just have to decide upon a color.