On My Way Home
Written by Helga
Sunday, 29 August 2010 10:37
As I sit on a plane bound for Boston, I have plenty of time to reflect on my 3 weeks in Germany with my family.
If you read my blog, you know I opted out of putting the kids in day camp for a couple of weeks this summer. Instead, we went to Germany to spend time with my father, stepmother. My children’s Oma & Opa. I have the best memories of the summer I spent with my Oma & Opa, summer of 1982.
I knew it would be good for us to get out of our comfort zone. I’m 40 and plenty set in my ways. My days have a routine that (mostly) works for me and my family. I needed a jolt out of my perfectly content place.
What I hadn’t counted on was how much harder it was for me to be in someone else’s space for that length of time. You do not realize how easy it is to be in your own home where you do not feel as though you are being watched or observed all the time. You feel as though if you flop down on the couch and open up your laptop and someone goes into the kitchen to prepare something or clean up, that maybe you need to get up and help them out. Because that’s what a good guest does. But that isn’t always what your host wants. I know for a fact that I do not want help cleaning up my kitchen, guests or not, because I have a routine and method to it that works for me.
I felt awful about the mess that my kids were inevitably going to make. My dad & stepmom Regina have lived by themselves for years in a proudly immaculate home, and here comes my kids, scattering Lego blocks and Playmobil pieces everywhere. Slamming doors. Shoes that leave mud or sand from the playground all over. Crumbs from endless pieces of bread & Nutella. Spills. My son trying to figure out what happens when you press every single button in a home that is filled with many different buttons that beg to be pressed. Over & over again. While scattered toys & crumbs are part of my daily life, there I was overly aware of all of it. And it stressed me out. And as a result, it stressed my parents out, too.
My stepmom is the epitome of warmth and love and treats me as if I were her own flesh & blood. She is snuggly and patient with the kids, comforting, quick to laugh from her belly, but firm with the kids when she needs to be. Always kind. She speaks a little English and I speak a little German, but somehow we manage to communicate. She has tried hard to assure me that it is to be expected, that kids make crumbs, noise & messes. I know she isn’t just reassuring me but being honest. I appreciate her so much!
My father is different though. He hasn’t been around little ones for any length of time in his own home in a very, very long time. He isn’t a touchy-feely kind of person, but he never has been. But that isn’t to say my dad didn’t enjoy the kids in his own way. As my stepmom explained, just because he isn’t a snuggly Opa, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love the children or enjoy them in his own way. We are all different and I have to respect that. He taught my kids how to play chess, which I am so grateful for! I don’t know how to play, and now my son Max want to play all the time. I have to find a good chess program for him. Thanks Dad!
I also learned that I am 40 years old. Not 10 years old. What? Didn’t I know I was 40? When I’m around my dad, sometimes it is hard to remember that. My parents split up when I was in 3rd grade, and I did not have a good relationship with my father. I was a difficult child, and in my own honest opinion, not very lovable. (No, really, it’s true.) It took a long, long time to forge a relationship with my father. We began working our way towards a real relationship when I hit my mid-20s. It didn’t hurt that I had grown up, matured, and met my husband, who is just the most understanding, loving & patient person I have ever been given the honor to know and love, and my dad had married a woman like Regina, who provided the comfort zone necessary for both of us. But if any of you have grown up with a stern, strict parent with little latitude who could stop you in your tracks with that look or that tone in their voice, then you know what I am talking about. My dad could scare the ever lovin’ shit out of me when I was a child with that look. And he still has that look and that tone sometimes. He had moments with my kids like that. And me. Our last day there, we were going out to the Dusseldorf Aquarium and I wore jeans with flip flops. That’s what I wanted to wear and that’s what I was comfortable in. My father pointed to my shoes and said with that look and that tone “Are you going to wear those?” I felt 10 years old all over again. Like I should run and change my shoes to make my father approve of my shoe selection. I said yes, I was going to wear these shoes. He gave me the look. But didn’t say a word. That’s when I remembered I’m 40, I can wear whatever shoes I want to wear. I said simply without attitude “I know you don’t approve but this is what I’m wearing” and left it at that. (What I wanted to say was, Dad, if anyone at the aquarium comes up to you wagging their finger in your face demanding how on earth you could let your daughter out of the house in those shoes, tell them you tried but I couldn’t be reasoned with. But I didn’t say that.) And so he left it at that without another word. The world kept spinning. I didn’t get yelled at or grounded or a lecture in how uncomfortable I might be. And off we went. No grudges held. Wow. Is that all it took? I should have figured this out sooner in life.
Crumbs. Noise. Mess. Moments where you feel small again. Moments where you feel very grown up.
What did I figure out? You cannot make everyone happy all the time and nor should you try.
I am so happy I took my children to Germany to be with my family, to be with my father & Regina-Mum. See my stepsisters who might as well be my own sisters. My kids got to enjoy their Oma & Opa, endless bread with Nutella. PlayMobil Park. Riding in a train to Holland. I learned to speak German better. (Conjugation still evades me!)
And I grew up a little bit more.
(Note: more posts about my time in Germany over the next couple of weeks)
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On My Way Home http://bit.ly/cc5f1g reflections on my trip to Germany, the good & the bad…
On My Way Home http://bit.ly/cc5f1g
Reflections on my trip to Germany…the first of many, I'm sure! The good & The bad http://bit.ly/cc5f1g
What a great post Helga….and so great that your kids got to visit their grandparents and that they live in Germany. Double awesome. People only treat us how we allow them, too. The same goes with our parents…..good for you for standing up to your Dad and showing him that he can’t tell you what to do or what to wear. So amazing and crazy at the same time that we revert back to that little kid with our parents. Looking forward to reading about more of your adventures.
Thanks for stopping by, reading & commenting! I learned alot on my visit out there. I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again – in a few years!
On My Way Home http://bit.ly/cc5f1g My reflections on my trip to Germany, the good & the bad
Thanks for that. I know that look too! I have to keep reminding myself that I too am 40, uh… 41. Glad you had a good trip. Ready for school to start?
Thanks for reading! YES! I am ready for school to start. My kids are missing their friends & a more set routine. And I am missing their friends and a more set routine.
Live Green Mom: As I sit on a plane bound for Boston, I have plenty of time to reflect on my 3 weeks in Germany wi… http://bit.ly/cc5f1g
Live Green Mom: As I sit on a plane bound for Boston, I have plenty of time to reflect on my 3 weeks in Germany wi… http://bit.ly/a4EiLY
My reflections on being back home from Germany, the good & the bad… http://fb.me/G9uI8Te9
On My Way Home from Germany… http://bit.ly/9it3vg
On My Way Home http://goo.gl/fb/OuQP6