Man I've been neglecting this thing. Too much work and stress, I guess.

What I've been meaning to say:

Last year we were having breakfast and Martha started to stare at the honey jar (organic, regional, of course). "Mama," she said (in German),"how come the bees don't just zoom right in there?" (Warum sausen die Bienen nicht einfach da rein?).

Good question.

Which reminds me of an event last summer in Norway. I was holding Martha up to wash her hands and she was trying to depress the plunger thingy on the soap with her left hand. Every time she pushed, the dispenser wiggled away. She'd push. It'd zig. She'd push. It'd zag. The whole time her right hand was waiting for a dollop of soap from the nozzle. Push. Zig. Push. Zag. She finally got exasperated.

"Fucking soap," she said.

I still giggle.

About the same time I was pushing Cy to speak more English. But he's a stubborn, sensitive kid so he doesn't like things that might reflect poorly on him. So he resisted. But then one day we were wrestling. He approached with a flying body slam which I deftly converted to a smooch attack. "Daddy! Daddy!" he said, wiping his cheek. "I find kissing horrible!" I didn't understand him at first because I didn't realize he was speaking English. When I did, I laughed nearly as hard as I did at Martha's soap comment.

Kids rock.

We went to Kassel to see the grandparents (and great grandparents) for Easter. To wit:

Before that we went to this place called Tropical Islands. I didn't take many or good pictures because I was worried about getting my phone stolen or having the kids drown while I was trying to frame a picture of a Polish woman in a pink bikini.

To also wit: