The last few weeks have been a bit of a blur and so I am finally catching up on finishing some old posts. I am big sentimentalist about holidays. I just love celebrating holiday traditions. Even better when there are kids involved. It lets me be a big kid too! Easter is one of my favorite holidays. There’s the excitement of spring and the world coming back to life and color after a gray winter. Coloring eggs is a lot of fun and of course, who can’t love a holiday centered on candy and chocolate. I have great memories of Easter as a kid. I remember hunting for eggs that my Dad (aka the Easter Bunny) had hidden and how in some years “the easter bunny” did such a good job hiding the eggs that we’d be finding (or smelling!) errant eggs weeks later. I remember hoarding my chocolate bunny, not willing to eat it because that might hurt the bunny and being horrified to find my bunny, which I had carefully tucked away, eaten up by my little brother. This year I did a two-take Easter. Since I knew I’d be travelling to the east coast for Easter weekend, the weekend before Easter I had friends over to my house in Berkeley for brunch and an egg hunt. And then the following weekend, on the “real” Easter Sunday I was in Connecticut celebrating Otto’s first Easter. Otto seemed to like the Radio Flyer baby trike I got him as an Easter gift. Easter Sunday was lovely weather and we had a nice walk to their local park nearby. I’m not sure who had more fun playing with the plastic (cheerio loaded) eggs, Otto or Gary, the dog. Gary figured out the trick pretty quickly and was all over the eggs! It was a fun two weekends. I’m in the midst of updating my adoption brochure (more on that later in another post!) so the timing was good for getting some fun photos. I knew the visit to Connecticut was going to be a bittersweet weekend, with it being Otto’s first Easter but also coming up on the fifth anniversary of my Mom’s death. My Mom died just before Easter in 2011 and I think of her so often this time of year, around Easter and spring. We visited the cemetery to put flowers on my Mom and Dad’s graves, the first visit there with Otto in tow and I couldn’t help but think about how much Mom and Dad would have loved him. This year, maybe for the first year since Mom died, looking at Otto, I could really feel both how life moves forward and on in the next generation and how the memories and traditions we grew up with bridge the past and present and keep those we’ve loved and lost alive in spirit. There’s some sort of peace in realizing this.
When I was kid, many of our birthday parties were bowling parties at Skytop Lanes, the local bowling alley in town. I still love bowling. I’m terrible at it…really terrible…but there is something about bowling that takes me back to being a kid. I even like wearing the bowling shoes.The sights and sounds—the thunder of the balls as they roll down the alley, the crash of the pins, even the sound of a sad gutter ball —make me smile. My brother, who lives in Connecticut a few hours away from our hometown, heard that Skytop Lanes is closing down, after fifty years in business. Since I was in town for Easter we decided to make a pilgrimage home for a last game. We had a blast! The place had not changed really one bit since we were kids. Kids were there having their birthday parties. Families were bowling up a storm. My brother and Evan outplayed me for sure. Quite a few of my turns were gutter balls but I managed to get my groove back a two games in and even bowled a strike!Otto isn’t quite big enough—he barely outweighs some of the balls but still, he made a great cheering section. It was a really fun afternoon!
Two of my new year’s resolutions this year were to be more spontaneous and to explore more of my adopted home state of California. Death Valley is one of the hottest and driest places in the US. This year, with the combination of rainstorms in the fall and warm winter weather, this normally barren place is alive with color. Seeds that have been dormant are sprouting and painting the landscape in shades of yellow, white and purple. A “superbloom” like this is rare–once in a decade. I’ve never been to Death Valley but had been thinking about wanting to get out to see the wildflowers, since this year, with the rains, they are bound to be spectacular. So, when I read about the “Death Valley Superbloom” a few weeks ago, I immediately thought, “Let’s go!” I feel very lucky to have friends willing to take up the call and head off for the weekend. Thanks Willy, Judy, and Sophia! Our “roadtrip” turned out to be a bit circuitous because, as it turns out, when thousands of tourists decide to make the pilgrimage to Death Valley, hotel vacancies become very scarce in rural Nevada. Not to be daunted, we decide to stay in Vegas and drive from there. Vegas itself was an adventure, having never been. All in all, it was a fantastic weekend and just what I needed. The last few weeks have been tough. I’ve been both very busy at work and also feeling really anxious and sad about being in adoption “waiting limbo” and as a result, it’s just been hard to get out of my head. This roadtrip did a lot to restore some balance. Just seeing this amazing scenery, having fun with my friends and living in the moment has been a great respite and chance to escape even if just for a weekend.
I was in Boston for work this past week and while there, met up with my brother to take my nephew Otto to the German consulate in Boston to register him as a German citizen! My siblings and I were all born in Germany. In fact, we moved to the US not long after my brother was born. My Dad was naturalized when I was little, but my Mom and my siblings and I kept our German citizenship all these years. Over the years, of course, I’ve debated about whether to give it up. I’ve lived in the US since I was five and in so many ways (most ways in fact) consider myself an American through and through, but still over the years, keeping my German passport and identity has meant a lot to me. It’s an important part of who I am. Now even more so since my parents have passed away, I feel it connects me to them, to family and to our heritage, in a way that is special and unique. Also, somehow, having this connection to another country and culture has also brought me a different perspective on the world and on living in the US. As a baby born to a German citizen, Otto also inherits German citizenship. I am happy that my brother and Evan wanted to give Otto that connection too. I think my Mom and Dad would have been very proud too. With a name like Otto, how could he not be German! I was a bit nervous about the consulate visit. My my role was as interpreter (since my brother’s German consists of “Ein Bier bitte!) and while my German is OK, German bureaucratic and legal forms are a challenge for my conversational German. But we did OK and the folks at the consulate were incredibly nice. In fact, we did the whole procedure in English. The Germans are picky about names and you can’t name your kid just anything. The US tendency for unusual/bizarre names is not the norm in Germany and it used to be that you had to get approval for a birth name. I think that is no longer strictly true but still, I think the consulate administrator was stunned to meet a baby Otto. And I love the photo of Philp and Evan with Otto in front of the consulate sign—my brother looks so much like my Dad in that photo. The whole process was a good test run for my baby, who as an adopted child would also inherit the same right to German citizenship (and US citizenship too, of course). As parents—whether adoptive or birth parents—there is so much of ourselves that we pass on to our children. While as an adoptive parent I won’t be able to pass on my genetic DNA, I am so glad to be able to share this cultural DNA. And who knows where life will take him or her. Maybe he or she will want to live in Germany someday.
with views of the Pacific, the bay, San Francisco and the entire Bay Area. You can see Mt Tam even from Berkeley and most days on our evening walk, Bodhi and I catch the sun setting over Mt Tam in the distance. I’ve been all over but somehow never made it onto Mt Tam. I love hiking and one of my favorite things about living in the Bay Area is the easy access to outdoors and nature. It’s still amazing to me that minutes from the city, you can be in the middle of nowhere. I love the fact that I am able to be outside every day, with relatively little effort. I love also that the people who live here feel so connected to nature and that so much effort is made to preserve special places like Mt Tam. Pt Reyes in Marin and Tilden Park, here in Berkeley. Saturday was as a beautiful day—there was a bit of fog but what would San Francisco be without fog! Even with the fog, the views over the city were amazing. Sophia, who grew up here always laughs at me when I shout about how beautiful some view is and how lucky I am to live here. I do feel that way. I grew up on the east coast, in Connecticut, and went to college in New England too. California was not on my mindset. My first time in California was coming to San Francisco for graduate school interviews. I was quickly hooked. I remember driving through the Berkeley hills and over the Bay Bridge and that was it. I needed to be here. I still feel really lucky and blessed to be able to make my life here. I am looking forward to sharing this all with my child and introducing him/her to all that is so special about this amazing place. There are now quite a few more hassles about living in the Bay Area than when I lived here first as a graduate student—the cost of living, the traffic, the crowds—but even today, whenever I catch a view of the Golden Gate Bridge coming, or the sunset over the Pacific, or the glistening hills of San Francisco, I still catch my breath and say to myself, “how lucky am I!”
The Bay Area has been in the midst of Super Bowl madness the last few weeks. Downtown San Francisco streets are shut down for the “Super Bowl City” and the horrendous Bay Area traffic is even worse than it’s normally very bad. Not being a football fan or caring about the game, I had a lovely weekend staying put and avoiding crossing into Super Bowl-cisco! Yesterday Bodhi and I did some work in the garden. My garden is my happy space and I’ve been excited to get back out there, after a rainy January. With all the rain, the ground is nice and soft so perfect for gardening. I’m on weekend two of my latest garden project to put in a new garden bed and plant some fruit trees. My little digger dog loves to be in the thick of things. If only I could train his digging on the right spots! Saturday night I met a friend for a movie, to catch up on the pre-Oscar nominees. On Sunday, I went to the San Francisco Zen Center’s Green Gulch Farm with my friend Phil for a Dharma talk and a Japanese tea ceremony presentation. I love Green Gulch. It’s a really beautiful and contemplative place. The gardens are gorgeous and peaceful and there’s just a feeling of intense calm when you arrive. As it turned out, this weekend there was a children’s program, so the place was overrun by kids, which was a bit of a surprise and definitely added some noise to the normal quiet zen atmosphere but it turned out to be quite nice. It reminded me of my childhood church where we had a special children’s sermon. It was amazing to see the little ones in the Zendo listening intently to the Zen priest and taking in his very kid friendly talk on why monsters and fears and worries we all have are nothing to be afraid of. Lessons that even we grown ups can benefit from. I’m glad that I can add Green Gulch as one more kid-friendly and fun place to bring my kids! Over lunch, we took a nice walk and since Green Gulch is just next to Muir Beach, we made our way over to The Pelican Inn, a super cute British style pub, for lunch. While I love Green Gulch, I don’t love the spartan zen food—especially when The Pelican Inn is right there! It was an all around great super bowl weekend!
I had a great time today at my friend Eva’s 4th birthday party. Eva’s party was at Sticky Art Labs which is one of my favorite “fun-for-kids-and-big people-too” places in Berkeley. 
I love reading and books. My house is full of books and I love having them around me. I love the physical and tactile aspects of books, the look and feel of the cover, flipping pages, underlining and dog-earing sections that I want to return to. I’ve tried but am just not a Kindle gal, despite all the ease and convenience. My bliss is an afternoon in a bookstore and I have more books in my “to read”pile by my bedside than seems safe here in earthquake country. But if someone finds me buried beneath a big pile of books, at 
I had a super fun rainy day Sunday with my friend Victoria and her two cutie kids—Eleanor and Sebastian. We went to Habitot Children’s Museum in Berkeley, which I hadn’t been to before but had heard a lot about from other friends. Of course, on a day like today, it seemed like every family in Berkeley had a similar idea and the scene was tot-madness. We had a blast playing on the climbing the Wiggle Wall, driving the ambulance and doing some “grocery shopping.”Who knew that grocery shopping could be such fun! The highlight of the morning, for me at least, was when Sebastian bumped himself and instead of running to Mom, jumped in my arms for soothing. LOVE. I’m sure he didn’t know it, but boy, did that make me feel special. Like winning the special Auntie Oscars! After Habitot we had burgers and fries. Fries with mustard no less—these are sophisticated kids! And then splashed through some puddles before heading home for naps. Eleanor and Sebastian are the sweetest kids and I love them to pieces. And by the way, their parents are pretty awesome too (that’s a shout out for you, Victoria and Luis!). But two little ones wear you out, so I was also glad to head home and spend the rest of the afternoon curled up on the couch with Bodhi finishing off my book for book club this week. A perfect rainy day Sunday!
Today is my Mom’s Birthday. She would have been 77 today. It will be five years this year since she died and still there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about her and miss her terribly. I would have really liked for her to be here to see me become a Mom and it’s hard to be going through this whole process without her. I know she would have been an amazing grandmother. She would have loved Otto and there is a bit of heartbreak in knowing that she didn’t get to know him or get a chance to see my brother become a Dad and that she won’t get to know my children. But I know that both she and my Dad will both be here with me in spirit. If I am able to be even half the mother she was, I will feel lucky. I get a lot of my self from my Mom, but it was only in my thirties that I came to recognize and appreciate how similar we were in sensibilities and mindset and get to know her in a different way, from adult eyes. Incredibly persistent and practical, about everything, stubbornly so at times, she was someone who took life for what it was, without drama and expectation for something other than what it was. No nonsense in so many respects, determined and self-reliant and never wanted to be a burden or a bother. She was beautiful without trying, even towards the end of her life. I have these photos of her in her twenties and she was so photogenic but in a totally modest, unassuming way. I doubt she saw herself as beautiful. I get my creative side from her. She loved art and making things—pottery, paper, collage—and being outdoor, gardening or walking in the woods. She was wild about her dog Toby, who I think might have stood in for the grandkids that were slow to arrive. She rarely complained, put up with a lot and expected little. She had this amazing empathy for people, especially people on the fringes, who the rest of the world might pass by, and had a hard time saying no to anyone who needed help, even if she herself rarely asked for help. When we were growing-up, she poured everything into being a Mom and wife. I can’t quite imagine it but when we moved to the U.S. from Germany, she didn’t speak of word of English and had three kids below the age of five. How tough it must have been to leave everything she knew behind and start a new life in a far away place, not knowing a soul or even being able to speak the language. She was always there for us. She made my sister and I dollhouses and sewed us clothes, and was always there to help with school projects. I can remember her reading my junior high English assignments with me when I was struggling with Beowulf and Chaucer. With two girls in girl scouts, she quickly got roped into being a camp counselor at our camp, even though I am pretty sure she would rather have spent her summer days in her garden. She and my Dad had high expectations for us in some ways but at the same time I didn’t feel pushed. In fact, I know she worried about some of my type-A ways. It’s funny in today’s era of helicopter parenting where parents lobby teachers to give their kids A’s to think that my Mom asked my high school teacher to give me a lower grade so that I would learn not to worry about grades so much. In another lifetime, had she not become a Mom, I think she would have been a hippy and travelled the world. When I was in grad school, she took a bus cross country, from Connecticut to San Francisco where I was living. I thought she was nuts; she was excited to see the country one state at a time. I do wish that after giving so much of herself as a Mom and a wife (especially in her later year when my Dad was sick), she would have had more time in her later life for finding her own true self again, but that was not to be (as she would have said matter of factly). Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you and miss you very much!
Waiting for my stork 