We have Moved

Come and visit the new site, Bumbles & Light.

snow and such

So here it is.

I've been busying myself with decorating plans for the apartment. It's been a cluttered "box" of an apartment for too long. I'm going to get some real curtains up in all of the rooms and hopefully some carpet remnants (if I can find somewhere that sells them over here) so that our neighbours stop complaining about our noise.

I'm thinking about painting one wall of the livingroom a dark grey, but I'm not sure yet. It depends on how the place looks once I finally get curtains up and art on the walls. I need to get rid of the echoes in the bedrooms too, I thought that it would get better once we had furniture in there but it hasn't.

Speaking of art, I totally need to look into getting some paints and canvas. I'm not about to go out and buy "art" when I can do it myself. I have some ideas tucked away.


Mikey boo misses his daddy. I'm doing ok for the most part. I've lived on my own before so I know the drill to some extent. Dealing with Mikey is the real problem I face at the moment. It doesn't help that he's getting 2 molars in and I think he's constipated too, poor baby. He gets all excited every time he hears our neighbours door because he thinks it's his daddy coming through our door.

He's stopped sleeping again. It now takes me about an hour to get him to bed at night and he started waking up at stupid hours again. I attempted to retrain him to sleep but got complaints from the people who live below us. Funny how they wait until my husband is gone before complaining, they didn't say a word when we sleep trained him the first time. The man even had the audacity to tell me that I should spank Mikey for waking up... um how about no? Now I have nothing against spanking when children are naughty (when I say naughty I'm meaning in the more extreme circumstances when no other repremand is having an effect) however waking up at night because his teeth and tummy hurt and he misses his daddy doesn't really meet the critera for a spanking. Sorry, I guess that makes me a terrible parent with an out of control child.

I find it a little odd that this man seems to think that spanking him will make him stop crying... I've generally found it to have the opposite effect. I guess he must mean that I should brutally beat my son into submission, that's fantastic parenting advice. I wonder if that's why his own kids are eerily quiet? Urgh, enough about him... he has annoyed me enough this week.

It snowed again this week. It was absolutely beautiful when I woke up yesterday morning, Mikey and I went out to play. He hasn't ever touched snow before and he was looking out the window all excited so I couldn't resist.


The local kids built an enormous snowman. It was so huge one of the dads had to get a plank of wood to be able to roll the head up onto the body. It's sitting in the playground outside my window and it looks totally awesome.

Unfortunately, due to having no one to talk to in the evenings I have become re-addicted to watching desperate housewives. And that's what I'm going to go watch now. Good night.

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I am a 24 year old British stay at home mother to a two year old boy. Married to a U.S. soldier and currently living in Germany.

I have seen the Vatican from the very top of St Peter's Basilica, the mud in the World War I trenches outside Ypres. I have walked through Montmartre side streets bustling with people in the evening, gotten lost in the streets of Greenwich Village NYC, run through cornfields on the Welsh border and sat outside with a cup of tea watching fireflies in the fields of the outer Chicago suburbs.

I have held the hands of others through addiction, fear, suicide, despair and come out the other side. I have left everything behind to begin anew.
I have fought mental illness and walked through snow in the mountains of the lake district, England. I have explored the morgue in the bowels of an abandoned hospital on a summer evening, climbed to the top of scaffolding on the outside of a five floor warehouse to look at the city lights of Nottingham at night and I have watched the sun setting on the Texas horizon.

I have held my son's tiny hand through the plastic window on an isolette in the NICU ward. Walked, speaking only in whispers, through the catacombs beneath the ground on the outskirts of Rome and seen the fireworks over Heidelberg castle.

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