Ah....the Belgians

Can I rant a bit? Yes, I can. That's what this blog is for as well.
I'm trying to organise a dutch speaking playgroup, so that The Little Man can make little friends and play in his mothertongue. Now, you can find playgroups in Munich in about every language. Italian, French, Korean (!), English, Spanish, and so on. You get the idea. None in Dutch. Nada. Yes, there is the "Nederlandse school" - expensive, waiting lists, school 2 half days a week, and way out of town. So I decided to put something on the Parents in Munich facebook page. Very positive reactions from some Dutch moms, like "Great! Let's meet". No reaction whatsoever from any Flemish Belgians.
I post the same thing on the Facebook page "Belgians in Bayern", and there we go....
"In town is too difficult." "For what age?" "There are not enough dutch speaking Belgians here". "what day? because I can only come during holidays".
Sigh...
Why oh why are they (we?) like that? Maybe that's why I liked living in Brussels so much...Almost no (Flemish) Belgians living there (and the ones that are, are clearly different from the rest and mostly married to a non-Belgian). Always complaining, always seeing problems instead of solutions, narrow minded, not into city life, afraid of the unknown, rarely showing enthusiasm, social only with own family or life-long friends,....Okay, I'll stop there.
Maybe that's why I've married someone who's only half Belgian. Maybe that's why most of my friends are not Belgian. Maybe that's why every expat mom I've met on the playground in Brussels was surprised when I said that I was from Belgium. Maybe that's why I've ended up as an expat wife myself.

Café Glückskind

I love Tuesdays. Because Tuesdays I've got my routine down. Drop off V, go out for breakfast, walk through Haidhausen, go to my Tiny Tots group, have lunch with the moms, pick up V again.
And it seems that finally, at last, I have found "my café".


Café Glückskind is what is known as a "family café" - meaning kids are welcome here, there's a playcorner, a changing table, you can order kid's portions, etc. The place is run by Irish Noel and Italian (?) Gino - so expect charm-overload. No wonder it's always packed with mommies.
They have about anything you can dream of for breakfast (yes, they have French toast! Yes, they have pancakes!), and service is fast and very friendly. This morning cook Gino was late. But like 2 minutes after he had arrived, my scrambled eggs were served...
Plus it's so nice to have a little morning chat in a language I speak. Moreover, I was not the only one there (remember Café Voilà?), but next to me sat a table of 8 workmen all having their "weisswurst mit bretzel", which provided the necessary entertainment.


So Café Glückskind is making me happy as a kid, especially when my latte looks like this:

Parents in Munich

Parents in Munich must be the most active Facebook group I've ever seen. In fact, it's so active, that 80% of my wall is now Parents in Munich. Which can be a bit tiring, to be honest. BUT....you can really ask any question that comes to mind, and you'll get an answer from someone. Tax issues, traffic fines, schools, doctors, hairdressers, opinions,....you name it.


And...from time to time they organise get-togethers. Like yesterday. In Café Glückskind, which I'd already read a lot about, walked past a few times, but never entered.
So, while the husband was assembling IKEA furniture, I wrapped up the kids in 20 layers of clothing (as it was freezing again), and we went to a meeting of people I didn't know. (yes, me, the introvert).


I talked to a dad from Egypt with his 2 daughters, I talked to a Dutch lady who's been living here for already 9 years, I talked to a mom from Virginia, to someone from the Philippines, to someone from Scotland, and to someone from Dubai. It felt like "INSEAD for parents" - brief conversations, every time the same questions (Where are you from? What do you do? How long have you been here? How many kids have you got?). Meanwhile the Little Man enjoyed himself with the other kids, and Baby Sis was just being her cute self. And we stuffed ourselves with Flammenkuchen, spaghetti carbonara and blueberries-mascarpone pie.


Conclusion: I was really happy to be out, see and meet people from all over the world. And Café Glückskind was a great discovery. Less than 10 minutes from our place, super friendly service, good food, a playcorner, plenty of space for strollers - so really everyone who enters the place has kids (non-parents would run away screaming, I'm sure). I will definitely be back. At Glückskind and at the next Parents in Munich meeting.

The honeymoon phase

That's what it's called in theory. The first phase of "culture shock", followed by The Frustration Phase, The Adjustment Phase and the Mastery Phase.
It's when everything is new and exciting, you're in love with your new country, and it lasts (on average) 3 to 6 months.
Well people, I think I've skipped it.
Maybe it was because of the sleep deprivation.
Maybe it was because I just spent a month alone with a toddler and a newborn with health issues and I was simply in some kind of postnatal shock.
Maybe it was because I was not happy about moving here in the first place.
Maybe it was because I'm just faithful, and I will always be true to Brussels.


Whatever the reason, I think my "honeymoon" consisted of only the following:
- I immediately loved our new apartment (still do, although if the elevator breaks down once more and I have to climb to the topfloor with two kids and grocery bags again, I swear the landlord will get to know me personally)
- I got happy as a kid with the first snow (now I'm like "God, not again")
- I ate bretzels every single day for at least 6 weeks (now, I kind of had enough)
- I love the Mexican taqueria we discovered (but that's more my love for Mexico than for Germany)
- I thought people were friendlier than in Brussels (I know now they can be just as rude and grumpy)


Moreover, I'm now what's generally known as "an expat wife". I quote what the Internation website has to say on the issue in their article on Culture Shock :
"Culture shock is not a myth, but a predictable phenomenon. Anybody who spends more than just a vacation abroad has to go through it. The intensity with which people experience it, however, depends on a lot of factors. Those who receive the least support on a professional and personal basis are usually hit the hardest. Expat spouses in particular often feel isolated and resentful when they experience life in a new cultural environment."


About the "professional support", I have to say that I'm very grateful for all the help we got from our relocation agency Start Up Services. Seriously, I don't know what we would have done without them. They have helped with finding a place, finding a school, all the paper work, finding a cleaning lady, etc, etc. The list is endless. I'm sure P's company is paying them good money for it, but still...They have been super friendly, answering emails late at night and on weekends, coming at home so I don't have to travel to them with the baby,...
As for "personal support"...I think the Little Man is the only one who shamelessly expresses his homesickness. And gets comforted.


Anyway, I have a feeling that the Honeymoon Phase isn't the only one I might skip or not experience.
To be continued...

Shopping therapy

Yesterday I realised I've been dealing with this move and everything involved (homesickness, homesickness, and more homesickness) in one major way : online shopping.

Amazon:

There's one shop that goes with you wherever you are (hey, that could be an amazing slogan). It's Amazon. Sure, all the "real shops" around you might change, but you've been shopping at Amazon in Brussels, and you can still go there, even when you're in Munich! It feels like coming home a bit.

Online pharmacies:

Yes, that's right. Because I insist on having Mustela baby products. Every French and Belgian parent will understand; trust me. Then there's also the baby food. As of 4 months, almost every Belgian parent puts rice or grain powder in the milk bottles to make the little ones sleep through the night. It doesn't exist here. I asked my paediatrician, and she was strict: "no". "It's milk in the bottle and everything else with a spoon". Right. Again, every French or Belgian parent will understand..... And I need my vitamin pills. Yes, the same ones as in Brussels. Sure, they have vitamins here too. But I want the same brand as always. I want things I know.

Online dutch bookshops:

Thank heavens for the Dutch site bol.com. They will send books, DVDs and CDs abroad. So I ordered a load of childrens' books and cd's on Tuesday, and they already arrived today.

Only one thing left to find...

Food. You know that the Germans are ignorant to the existence of self raising flour? That's right - they don't know it and it's nowhere to be found. 20 different kinds of flour, a hundred "ready made" flour mixes to bake whatever you can imagine....but no self raising flour.

No "béchamel sauce" either. No Rice Krispies. No cookies for kids! In Belgium we have entire aisles in the supermarket dedicated to cookies for kids: Winnie the Pooh waffles, Maya the Bee cookies, etc, etc. Here you have Leibniz ZOO cookies, and that's it. I can tell you one Little Man is getting kind of frustrated....

And one more...

one "shop" that is impossible to find online...a hairdresser. I urgently need one, but I just don't dare to go to one here in Germany. Two options: I take the risk to seriously mess up my hair, or I wait another 2 months. I think I'll wait... 

A good day

A few days ago, the Little Man came home from school saying he had "a new REAL friend". Seems there's a new boy in his class and the two of them get on really well. They get on so well, that the Little Man refused to do sports just because the new kid didn't have any sports clothes yet and couldn't do sports either. Promising.

So this morning, when I saw the new kid's mother, I gave myself a push in the back and introduced myself. Hallelujah, she's not German. She's South African. Which explains why the new kid understands the Little Man when he talks Dutch. We exchanged phone numbers, and who knows... So there, maybe I did meet someone through school.

After that I went to Café Voilà. Which is still nice enough, and serves a good breakfast. But I was there all-by-my-self. Really. Completely alone. So I'm not sure if the Voilà is a possible candidate to become part of my morning routine.

On to Baby Sis' tiny tots class. Which, hurray, I was able to attend from beginning to end this time. And after that lunch with the other mommies.

Oh, and did I mention that we actually had a beautiful blue sky today?

So yes, a good day in Munich.

(Not) a happy boy

"Kids adapt so quickly, you'll see".
Well, it's been 2 months now and I don't see it. Not at all.
What I see, is a very lost Little Man, who is anything but himself.
My happy, outgoing, sparkling, social, enthusiastic boy is very hard to find. Mostly, I see a sad, confused, mixed up, angry, very lonely little guy.


It started in July, with his dad being gone already to Germany. One month later, mom gone too - in hospital. After that, mom not "available" anymore, but other people every day in the house to wash, dress, feed him and bring him to school. Then Baby Sis arrived. Finally mom and Baby Sis home, but a few weeks later mom and Baby Sis again in hospital. Then everybody moved to Germany. And now he's in a classroom where they speak three different languages, none of which he actively knows.


If it's been a lot (too much) for this 38 year old, I think it's safe to assume it's been a lot (too much) for a three year old as well. Almost every night he crawls into my bed, only to have a very restless sleep. Tantrums, aggressiveness, disobedience, ...are on the menu every day. He's back in diapers fulltime. Morning drop-offs are a nightmare. Instead of a smiley boy who runs off onto the playground, ready to take the lead, and talking nonstop to his friends, I now leave behind a very sad boy who tells me in a little voice he really doesn't want to stay (occasionally, he puts up a brave face - for my sake, I guess). When I go to pick him up, I see him standing or sitting alone, just observing what the other kids are doing. And my heart breaks. Again.


This week, after coming home from school, he just went into his bedroom, crawled into his bed and went to sleep. He tells me he misses his friends, his old school, the park, his old room,...almost every single day. Or he says he doesn't want to talk about it, like yesterday.


I try to be patient. I really try. (But I'm only human. With serious sleep deprivation. And homesick myself.) I try to point out the positive things. We have mountains here! And snow! We can take the subway to school! I try to do as much fun things as possible. To the kids' museum! Happy meals at Mc Do! Pick out a new toy! I give hugs day and night. I sit by his bed until he finally falls asleep. I pick him up earlier. I prepare his favourite food. I let him watch Cars. I do everything I can. And I get screamed at, I get kicked and hit, I get "NO", until the tears come once again and he falls asleep holding my hand.
That's the reality. That's how "enriching" it all is for a little 3 year old boy.

my new mission in life

Be home because they will bring the spare keys.
Be home because someone's going to come with some papers to sign.
Be home because they are coming to look at the water meters.
Be home because they are coming to change the water meters.
Be home because someone is coming by with more paperwork.
Be home because someone is coming to look at the shower.
Be home because someone's going to have a look at the non-functioning light.
Be home because someone will come and look why the windows don't close/open.
Be home because the new cleaning lady is coming by.
Be home because they will deliver an expensive package.
Be home because they will come to repair the lights.
Be home because they're coming to replace the shower.
Be home because they're coming to look at some scratches in the floor.


Ladies & gentlemen, my new mission in life : be home.

Tiny Tots @ Lulu & Tintin

Back in Brussels, still pregnant, I began my search for "new mom groups" in Munich. I knew how isolated and lonely you can get, at home, alone with a baby, so this time round I wanted to be prepared. Quickly I found Lulu & Tintin , a place not too far from our apartment, that offers several baby classes in English. I don't know where they got their name, but obviously they scored some extra points with this Belgian with the "Tintin".
So the first thing I did when I arrived here, was sign up for their baby class "Tiny Tots", for little ones from 3 to 5 months.


The first class was great. Nice people, an English midwife to lead the group, and a lovely lunch with the other mommies afterwards.
Second class I had to miss because The Little Man was sick, and home from school.
Third class (today), I had to ran out halfway because I realised I had forgotten Baby Sis' formula milk and water at the bakery where I had my coffee just before the class.
Sigh...


Let's just hope all goes well next week...As it is my only opportunity to meet people so far, I'm kind of desperate to go and not miss it.

Voilà

Kind of a milestone today, so before going to bed I'll quickly write about it.

I had my first "lunch" today. As in "meeting another human being older than 3 to socialise". 

I met her through the "tiny tots group" (more on that later), and she lived in Brussels for 10 years - like 5 minutes from my doorstep. Today we found out that we went to the same gym. Both our daughters were around 2.5 kg at birth. So...enough things in common to chat effortlessly for almost 2 hours. It was nice. Very nice, in Café Voilà. 

The school, the parents & me

The main reason for being reluctant to start this blog, was that I didn't want to sound too negative all the time. It's easy to complain and see the down side of everything (for me, anyway ;-).
So yes, I'll try not to "go South" too much. I'll try to be balanced and realistic instead of pessimistic, and who knows...even optimistic from time to time.


BUT...(you knew this was coming, right?) I need some kind of outlet. There's no one here to whom I can show how I really feel. No one to talk too. I have to hide my tears from everyone.
I've spoken out loud the words "I feel a bit homesick" just once. And the reaction to that can best be described as "get yourself together".

So now that I'm hit by another wave of homesickness, I'm just going to pour it all out here.

Before coming to Munich, I was absolutely sure I'd meet new people through The Little Man's school. Looking at all the socialising and chit-chat going on around 3.30pm at the school gate in Brussels (in at least three different languages), I was pretty confident I'd find the same setting here in Germany.

Wrong.

Let me just randomly list all the things that I've noticed so far.

- no fixed drop-off or pick-up times for school, means everybody comes at different times. No gatherings at the school gate.

- Even if it's a trilingual "international" school, it's very German. Somehow all parents speak German. I feel like I'm the only non-German.

- despite the lack of "school gate gatherings", all parents seem to know eachother. This became obvious to me at the kids' Christmas party just before the Holidays. And they sure knew how to "clique" together. In such a way that I was the only parent left without a spot at the table (no seat offered of course). So I just squeezed myself in a tiny chair together with The Little Man at the kids' table. And no one said a word to me. Not "Hi, we haven't seen you here before". No "Hi, nice to meet you, I'm so and so's mom or dad". Nothing. Nada. So much for Christmas spirit. Just loudly talking amongst themselves in German. I haven't felt so lonely in ages as at that stupid Christmas party.

- Am I the only one with 2 kids? I seem to be the only one juggling a baby and a toddler. The parents I do meet in the morning or evening (every time different ones, mind you, not twice the same people), all seem to just drop off or pick up one kid. No acrobatics with push chairs, prams, automatically closing doors and running toddlers. Just one kid. I'm clueless. Do they all have nannies to stay with the babies at home? Is one of the parents always staying home with the baby? In Brussels this was part of the fun : looking and cooing at eachothers' babies, see them grow, etc.

- The moms I do see at school all look like they've just spent 2 hours in the bathroom - yes, even in the morning. I consider myself lucky if I'm able to shower and I'm wearing clothes without spit-up milk on them. So I don't know how they do it. Again: do they all have just one kid? Or do they all have nannies? Or does the german husband help out in the mornings?  I don't know...I'm just glad it's winter and I can hide my hair under a hat.

Voilà.

So that's why today, after bringing the Little Man to school, tears were rolling down my face when I was walking home. Not for the first time. And probably not for the last. I miss those other moms so much. I miss our little chats. I miss their stories. I miss the feeling of being part of a group of people who are all in the same boat. I miss seeing other moms with hair hidden under a hat and no make-up, balancing a baby on one arm, while hugging a kid with the other.

I don't know the other parents. I don't know the other kids. In Munich, sometimes it feels like I don't know anything.

The search for The Cafe

For the last three years, I had the following morning ritual: drop the little man off, buy my newspaper, go to the Pain Quotidien for a cappuccino and some reading, then on to work.
This little ritual is what helped me survive those early years of motherhood, when your life as you knew it just stops to exist. Those 30 minutes of me-time were a life saver, day after day.


This was Brussels, were we lived in the neighbourhood with the most bars and restaurants per square meter in the entire city (okay, I might exaggerate here. But it was lively). The Pain Quot was not even 5 minutes from my doorstep. So was the Natural Café, the Pain du Chatelain, Gaudron,...if I felt like something different than the usual Pain Quot.


Back to the here & now, i.e. Munich.
I desperately need to find my "café". I miss my morning ritual more than anything. Forget "within walking distance". There's nothing close to our place, or even between our place and the little man's school. There are flats. Concrete blocks. And more of the same.
Sure, there's this one little lovely bakery. That has great cappuccino as well. And has seats.....outside (this seems to be a common thing, by the way). But sitting outside in -2C with icewater falling down is just not for me - nor for Baby Sis ( nor for my iphone battery, I've noticed).


On the positive side: we live almost next to a U Bahn station (subway). One stop further, and I'm in Haidhausen. Which is a lively neighbourhood, with plenty of bars and restaurants. Three stops further, and I'm on Odeons Platz - basically the city centre. So I already took my search a bit further. But having to travel just to take my morning coffee, I don' t know...it's just a bit too much, it just doesn't feel right. Especially when it involves dragging the pram and diaper bag along wherever you go. Guess Brussels just spoiled me a bit too much.


Conclusion: I haven't found my café yet. Or any other morning ritual. Or any other precious me-time.

The Hofbräukeller

The Little Man being too sick to go to school, but too active to stay indoors, we decided to go to the place that is being recommended on every "mummy site" about Munich: the Hofbräukeller on the Wiener Platz. 

Some historical background: this is the place where Adolf Hitler gave his first political speech as member of the Deutsche Arbeiter Partei, on October 16, 1919. And now it's a kid friendly bar & restaurant, with even an "oma" who will watch your kids while you get half drunk on another half liter of beer.

(By the way: this is my first time "blogging on the go" on my smartphone. Hence the brevity, typos, and other unacceptable writer's behaviour like copy-pasting from Wikipedia)

Here we are again

So...almost 2 years since I've written anything. Feels weird. To write again.
But a few weeks ago I met an INSEAD partner who read my blog during that special year in France. And she gave me the final push to write again. Ever since, I've been writing entire blog posts in my head, so today I decided to take the jump and put some of those words out there again.
Sorry if I sound a bit rusty. Let's say I need to get back into practice.


Anyway....
I'm in Germany. That's right. Bavaria even, for Christ's sake. Can't get more german than that. I followed P together with The Little Man and his brand new Baby Sis to this city that claims itself "international" (insert loud ironic laughter). Guess Brussels spoiled us a bit too much on that part.
P has been here now since July, me and the kids arrived beginning of December.


There's lots and lots to write about already.
Like the fact that they love cash money, and you can even find Mc Do's where you can only pay cash.
Like bakeries that don't have bread slicing machines.
Like having beers before noon (guilty as charged).
Like having found a great paediatrician.
Like waking up with 50 cm of snow on your terrace.
Like going to your first "new moms' group" and meeting someone who has lived minutes from your doorstep in Brussels for 10 years.
Like what it's like to be stuck at home with two kids - and we're only even at the beginning of that one.
Like how I survived unpacking +100 boxes with about 3 hours of sleep every night.
Like how I get happy as a child every time I see a glimpse of the Alps.
Like what an administrative nightmare moving countries is.
Etc etc.


Seriously, I don't know where to start. Guess that only means I should have started earlier.