Bienvenu a Strasbourg!

One of the best parts of living in Stuttgart, Germany is that I can get to the beautiful city of Strasbourg, France in less than two hours.

This city is near and dear to my heart because I spent six months of my mission here.  It was by far the best area in the mission and the most coveted.  I had great companions here, one of whom I trained, and served in two awesome wards.  The members of the church here were cream of the crop... very stalwart and very supportive and kind towards the missionaries and each other.  We had amazing investigators here too.  I gave my heart and soul to this area.

August, 2002

August, 2013

 Since Ben had the day off on Friday and the forecast was clear skies with a high of 77, it would have been a crime not to go.

And I promise to take anybody who comes to visit us to this charming ville.  You will love it!  Pictures do not do it justice, but here goes anyway:

The apartment on Petite Rue de L'Eglise, where I lived 11 years ago

Yesterday was not the first time I had revisited the city since my mission.  We came through two years ago when we lived in Poland.  My girls have this picture hanging in their bedroom from that trip.  Emily was 3 and Caroline was 1. 

And ever since, Emily has been asking when we were going to go to France so she could ride in the "pink car" again.

So it was super fun to bring her back.  That's all she cares about, riding in the pink car.

Ice cream is always a hit, especially Italian gelato.  Mmmm...

 And since it was a warm day, we let the girls wade their feet in a shallow fountain in Place Kleber.  I went to peruse a nearby bookstore and came back to find this scene:

            

Apparently she had fallen in, so her clothes were soaked.

Typical Em was a little more cautious and reserved

Stimulating Daddy/Daughter conversation over dinner (most likely about princesses) 

James enjoying his first trip to France

Me attempting to communicate with the waiter using my rusty French

Who can resist her?

Best Friends

Dancing to a street performer

Check him out in this 18 second video singing in French at the top of his lungs.  Love it!

All in all it was a great day, but a little much for little James.  He was happy to come home to his comfort zone

Learning to be Happy

These are some of James' very first smiles... taken this morning, mind you.

As you can see, there are two pairs of feet in these pictures... one belongs to little Emily.  

She LOVES coming in my bed in the morning, where I'm usually hanging out with James, and getting in on all the fun.  

She loves trying to make him smile.

When I exclaimed, "Look!  He's learning how to smile!"

She responded with delight, "Yeah!  He's learning how to be happy!"

Which got me to thinking...

Is being happy something we LEARN how to do?

I admit I haven't been my happiest these first six months in Germany.  Naturally, the beginning of a three year tour in a country I've never lived in, with a language I've never learned, and with weather that is oh so different from the paradise of Monterey, CA, is going to be a bit challenging. 

 I haven't "learned how to be happy" here.

But I sort of had a reawakening this past weekend when my friend Ariel came to visit. 

 This is Ariel:

She was my next door neighbor in California.  She's the kind of  neighbor you want to have.   She's the neighbor whose house you could just walk into and raid the cupboard for a tsp of cinnamon when you were in a pinch.  She brought us home baked goodies ALL the time.  She was so good with my little girls.  And she was just fun to be around.

So, she moved with her family to ITALY at the same time that we moved to Germany!  So, we're kind of neighbors again.  She drove the seven hours with her three kids to come see me and the new baby.  

Her oldest Ellie, with James

Lydia leads the pack after buying ice cream from the ice cream man.  They act like the own the place, don't they?

A visit to the Ritter Sport Chocolate Museum

 And chocolate store.  Yep, that's ALL chocolate on the shelves.  Em was in heaven.

Ariel knows all things German.  She lived here for nine years as a kid when her dad was stationed here.   So it was fun to have her because she taught me a TON about living in Germany... stuff I'd  never pick up on if she hadn't revealed it to me.  Many of these revelations happened in the grocery store.  

 It was fun to see how excited Ariel was shopping in a German grocery store.  She knew the ins and outs... including nonalcoholic beer, which she doesn't think twice about drinking.

  

Apparently all those huge glasses of beer we see being consumed at every biergarten don't necessarily contain alcohol.  I guess they have pretty strict blood alcohol level laws when it comes to driving.  Who knew? 

However, I did learn that the legal age for consuming alcohol in Germany is 14!!  Yep, as long as you're in the company of a parent.  And at age 16 you're allowed to drink without a parent!

That is nuts.

Ariel bought a crate of Mezzo Mix, which I learned is orange flavored coke.  I'm a huge fan of Cherry Coke, and thought Mezzo Mix wasn't half bad!

She showed me all the good yogurts, sauces, soups, drinks, baby formulas and cereals, and many other foods I would have never tried!  Here are a few:

Jager sauce for Schnitzel.  According to Ariel, delicious

Brown mustard.  Would you know this was mustard by the looks of it?  Me neither.

Their version of vegetable stock.  I flavored my brown rice with it and it is YUMMY.

And you get the idea.  

 Ariel had no problem whippin' out the German left and right either.  She hasn't take any German classes, just remembers it from when she lived here as a kid.  My German is virtually non existent.  Which I'm sure adds to my discomfort here.  I'm convinced there's a direct correlation between how comfortable you feel in a foreign country and how well you know the language.  Why do I love France so much?  Because I speak French.  Why does Ben love Poland so much?  Because he speaks Polish.  It really makes a HUGE difference.  

So I've recommited myself to learning German.  Even if I never become fluent, just some knowledge helps build confidence.

And so, in a very round about way (I'm sorry this post is so long), I'm trying to say that I am going to LEARN how to be happy here... to make the most of our three years... to stop thinking about all the things I'm missing out on at home, and just embrace our experience here.  

James Dennis Shaha

In case you hadn't heard, we ended up naming our little one 

James Dennis Shaha.  

It was a tough decision.

First he was James, then he was Patrick, then he was Caleb, and then it was back to James. 

Emily was becoming very impatient with us.

James was named after Ben's grandfather, James Henry Shaha.

He just passed away in June.

He was a great man, to say the least.  

Doesn't he just look hardcore?

He was the first Shaha to join the army, starting the family tradition of military service.  He has three sons who have served (at varying lengths) as well as seven grandsons.  

He had a decorated military career, which included being a battery commander in the Korean War and a battalion commander in the Vietnam War.  Doesn't that just sound cool?

Taking command in Veitnam

He was also the first Shaha to join the church when, as a lieutenant with a young family, he opened his door to the missionaries.  He accepted their message whole heartedly and completely changed his lifestyle to become the first Shaha "Mormon."

Serving a mission in Spain in his later years

I just finished watching his funeral that I didn't get to attend.  There were so many inspiring and amusing stories about him.  What a great person to be named after.

James' middle name is in honor of my father, Dennis A Blackburn.  There were so many great things about my dad too... his strong work ethic, his unflinching testimony, his integrity...  

But mostly I wanted to use his name because I just loved him to death. 

So, no pressure, right James?

It Wasn't Me

Saturday was NOT a good day. 

I was still mourning my mother's departure from the day before, wondering how on earth we were going to manage without her. 

I fed the girls pancakes while Ben snoozed in the recliner.  He had returned from the states earlier in the week.  Apparently he was tired.... maybe delayed jet lag??  So I let him off the hook.

I had an appointment at noon to get my nails done (a rare treat) and then I was going to go do some grocery shopping on my own.  Grocery shopping without kids = heaven.  

I figured I could leave Ben in charge for a couple of hours.  He was still snoozing in the recliner when I left... I gave him some instructions about feeding the baby, he indicated in his comatose state that he understood, and I was off!   

Usually Ben does a decent job with the kids while I'm away, which was why I wasn't too worried about leaving him.  But something was seriously off with Ben that day.  He continued sleeping in the recliner for the ENTIRE TIME I was gone.

When I got home it was like a scene from Lord of the Flies (to use Ben's reference).  It was 3 pm, the girls were still in their pjs, they were camped out in front of the tv, breakfast dishes were exactly where I had left them, the house was a mess, and to boot, apparently Caroline had taken a crayon to the wall with a mean sort of vengeance.  

Purple crayon was found everywhere... in the baby's room, in the play room, in the hallway, and funny enough (although I was not laughing in the least bit), all over the wall behind the recliner where Daddy was snoring as this all went down.  

I was on the verge of tears.  Em said to me, "I told her Mommy and Daddy would be mad and she said, 'No they won't!'" I could just hear her defiant, mischievous little voice.

So, it's needless to say how we spent the rest of our Saturday, but what put a smile on my face through this all, was a piece of notebook paper I found propped up on one of the walls that had had received the brunt of Caroline's "artistic expression."    

Apparently, Em was too nervous about waking up Dad to inform him of Caroline's misdeeds.  So she did the next best thing she could think of.  She wrote a note clearing herself of all culpability. As if there were any question as to which child did it.  But, I guess according to Em, you can never play it too safe.