Cold Hands, Warm Heart

For many years, I'd run up to my mom, put my hands on her face and cry, "MOM! Feel how COLD my hands are!" I always got the same response; she'd jolt and say, "Cold hands, warm heart." I write to you now with my feet firmly pressed against my radiator on highest heat, and I'm still cold. Mom, do you think I can still have a warm heart if I have cold feet? Can I?

In the last 10 days, I have babysit six of them. I feel it's time to share more with you about the kids I spend much time with. Here's my typical day:

After climbing 86 steps to the third floor, I finally reach the classrooms I need to search through to find Emily and Timo. They've never been in the same place twice, so I sort of play a live version of Where's Waldo? until both have been located. Bianca, Emily's friend, thinks I don't understand a word of German, so when she talks about me in front of me, it's amusing. The kids change from their "houseshoes" back to their street shoes, and after Timo asks me if I can carry his backpack--"Can you hold?"--we begin our descent.

In the fall, I would treat them to ice cream when they'd ask for it. But now that winter is here, and the Bäckerei is oh-so-conveniently located at the corner we MUST pass to get home, I always anticipate Emily asking, "Can we get somesing von there? Please?" Yes...we can. I would be more eager to buy these treats weekly if there was a small 'thank you' involved. After a few times of no "thank you" from either of them, I once asked if I could try a bit of each of theirs. I think they were appalled I asked, and they said no. I said, "You know, I buy you something with my own money EVERY week. You never say thank you to me, and you won't even share with me." There have been more thank yous since then, but not from both, and not consistently.

They walk slowly home, so I must, too. Seven minutes later, we arrive at #15 and Emily turns her back to me, without saying anything, and asks, "Can you make it open?" and requests I get the key out. I do. They usually go right to the table and eat more food--toast or cereal. Emily will eat 3-5 slices and lather them with honey and butter. Timo eats the same amount, but he doesn't take butter on his.

Emily is a pretty typical first-born. She wants things her way, and is demanding when she doesn't get them. She is quick to have a snide comment, but she really does love Timo. He loves her back. I've never seen them hit eachother, which is strange because I feel like Lynn, Steve, and I did nothing but attack, kick, scratch, and shoot each other in the eyes with nerf guns (okay, all are true except the last one, which was just me on Easter one year. I shot Steve in the eye with the gun he got in his basket that shoots around corners. Sorry again, Steve.)

Emily asks me what some words are in English, and on the occasional time I don't know what word she's requesting, she is immediately frustrated and makes me feel like an ignorant fool. Timo won't speak much English, because he really can't, but he says a word or two here and there, and often breaks into song: "We were da shaaaampions, youuuu were da loooossaaaa."
He gets mad when Emily plays Gameboy, and he tells her auf Deutsch, "Come onnnn. Let's play something with HER."

There are two games they like to play: Zoo, and Ghost/Geist. They are the made up games that normally involve me looking stupid, but no other person sees me so I don't feel THAT dumb. We play soccer outside behind their building a lot, too, and they never wear their jackets. Back to the cold thing, I am freezing in their house! Always. Today when I said I was cold, Emily looked at me like I was stupid and told me no, it's not cold. Apparently she knows exactly how my body felt.

I stayed overnight Saturday with the kids while the parents were away. We sang Christmas songs in German. I can't imagine any American children A. getting along and B. wanting to just sing together. It was pretty cute. They have this thing hanging in their living room now for the Advent season. There are 24 packages wrapped, each one individually hanging from one larger string that reaches across the room. It seems like a fun tradition.

That's pretty much my day with them, though. I'm cold, they're hot. They eat, I starve (exaggerating). You get the picture, I hope.

The Christkindlmarkt at Marienplatz will open tomorrow and I'm very excited about it. I think the spirit of Christmas will be more present here, and more beautiful. Only time will tell. I bought myself a string of lights last week, as you can see from the photo. I miss the ones Brittany and I had in our room last year, but these will just have to suffice.