Brothers in Arms

Yesterday, your brother Lukas was being what i call a “Quatschkopf” and your dad calls a “silly bugger”. He wouldn’t stop doing naughty stuff and answered back the whole time, so we ‘sentenced’ him to 15 minutes on the ‘Silent Step”, which means he has to go to the third step from the bottom of our stairs and sit there quietly. After about five minutes you asked me if Lukas could come up again. When I said ‘no’, you asked if you could go join him. I explained to you that being on the ‘Silent Step’ means exactly that: no talking, no playing and sitting pretty much motionless. I figured that would put you off that idea for sure.

 

Your dad called me because he wanted to show me something on his computer, so I went to the back and stayed there for a few minutes. When i came back into the living room (where I had left you), it was surprisingly quiet and I was wondering what you were doing; so I went and checked your room-negative; kitchen- negative.

At last, I tip-toed to the top of our stairs, and yes, that’s where you were: you had gone down to keep your brother company! The two of you sat there next to each other in complete and utter silence and motionless. I went to get your dad so he would see it as well (you probably know me well enough by now to have already guessed that my eyes were suspiciously shiny….).

 

A couple of minutes later, your Auntie Geri came out of her room downstairs; when she walked past you, she smelled that your nappy was due a change and took you upstairs. When you were done, you went straight back down to sit with Lukas, and Geri saw you there on her way back down- still quiet, still motionless and your arms linked. And so you stayed until I called you to come upstairs five minutes later.

 

 No matter how many times you annoy each other, fight about a toy or have screaming fights- when it really comes down to it, you truly are Brothers in Arms.

brothers in arms

*Sternenmädchen*

Stars in their eyes

Then:  Your Opa (my dad) used to read stories to my siblings and me every night when we were kids; one of them was “Peterchens Mondfahrt” (“Little Peter’s trip to the moon”). In that book, a little beetle flies up to the moon to win his lost leg back, and he meets a lot of fascinating characters on his trip. The ones my dad and I loved the most were the “Sternenmädchen” (“star girls”), and from then on we went out almost every night to say good night to them- and very rarely they would even have a little present for me!

Now:  Two weeks ago we all met for Sunday Family Dinner at Omi’s and Opa’s place, and my dad told me that he had something for you boys- how about we let the Sternenmädchen do their magic? He told you the story about them and mused: “I wonder if they still do that…. Shall we give it a try?” Needless to say you were very keen, and so you and Opa stood in the garden yelling “Sternenmädchen, are you there?” He added: “My grandsons are here and I have told them all about you. Do you happen to have a little something for them by any chance?”

 Unfortunately, I didn’t have my camera on me- you should have seen your faces! While you were standing there, looking at the sky with huge, shiny eyes, your dad, who had hidden in my parents’  bedroom upstairs, threw two little parcels out of window into the garden two little parcels landed in the garden! At first you just stood there- amazed, awestruck. But then you ran to get the parcels which contained a hooded jumper each, in partner look, and you both shrieked with joy and thanked the kind star girls.

To this day I am really surprised that Opa the Sternenmädchen got your sizes right….

PS: I started reading out “Peterchens Mondfahrt” to you two nights ago.

African Mama…?

My mother calls her mother “Mutti”, i call my mother “Mutti”, and you boys call me that, too- supposedly, anyway…. You actually speak very well for your age, and especially during the last couple of weeks it has been exciting to watch you start stringing sentences together correctly in both english and german and learn to say difficult words. One word you don’t seem to get your tongue around, however, is “Mutti”; instead, you call me “Mbutti”. We have tried to teach you to say it properly so many times and you try your best, but it always comes out like an african word . I laughed so hard when you were out on the terrace on your walking-bike and yelled out: “Chau mal, Mbutti, ich bin chuper chnell!” (“Schau mal, Mutti, ich bin super schnell!”- “Look mum, i am super fast!”)- ehm, did i mention you struggle with “sch” as well? As I am typing this, you are standing right next to me; i am telling you to say “MMMMMMMMUTTI” and you are pursing your lips, your whole face frowned with concentration and say “MMMMMMMM- Butti”, followed by the biggest smile- i don’t actually know whether it is a proud smile or a mischievious one- are you just taking the mickey?!? You make me laugh.

Tamati/Thomas

A year before you were born, one of my best friends, Thomas,  got killed in a car crash. A friend of his had borrowed his boss’ ferrari and took him for a spin on the autobahn- and a spin it was…. it was raining, and the guy went way too fast (about 200 km/h, i believe); the last thing Thomas heard in his life was the cry “Shit, i think we are aquaplaning”, then the ferrari flew off and crashed into a tree. the driver climbed out of the wreck without a scratch, whereas Thomas was killed instantly (which was our only relief). I am not going to bore you with the horrible details or with my disbelief and pain during the following weeks and months; but when we found out that i was pregnant and that you were going to be a boy, we decided that your middle name would be the maori version of Thomas- Tamati. That is how you got your name. He was one of the most decent, sweet, faithful and honest people- and i know you will be, too.