As promised, a sunny report... card

So I said that as soon as there was something positive to report, I would. And this report comes in the form of a report card - Kilian's mid-term. The kids here only get two report cards a year, one at the halfway point, which is meant to serve as an indicator of a student's progress (or lack thereof) and the final report card, the one that goes on your permanent record, at the end of the year.

Because Kilian is in the second grade, he won't get grades assigned a numeric value until the end of the year. But his report card was very, very positive. He's really working hard, and putting forth his best effort in school, and it shows, too.

I've done a quick translation of the report card. I considered uploading it, but I want to protect Kilian, just because you never know. If you would like to see my translation, please send me an e-mail at
kolbmara@yahoo.de
and I will send a pdf to you.

We're so proud of Kili! On Saturday, he got to choose a new book as a reward - he chose "The Little Ghost" by Ottfried Preußler.

Love, Mara

I'm glad you didn't shout or shake her--although she was askin' for it!!!! Of course, Vincent is fine. He's just Vincent. She just doesn't know him. Love, Mom

The Supposed Trouble with Vincent

Before I start, I'd like to say that I know I've had a couple of doozies here, and will post something sunny at my next opportunity. Former scout's honor. But for now...

At the end of the week, Vincent had back-to-back examinations with the pediatrician and with a school psychologist to evaluate his readiness to start school. This is standard for children who will be school age in the fall, but with Vincent, it's more critical than it was with Kilian. Vincent's birthday is the day before the cut-off date for children who are required to start school in the fall. With Kilian, the answer was obvious. I feel a need to be more cautious with Vincent, since he will be among the youngest kids if he does start this year.

First off was his check-up, which was on Thursday. At this examination, they evaluate physical development and test cognitive skills. Vincent did very well. The pediatrician was satisfied with Vincent's growth and his abilities, even though the first thing Vincent did after I undressed him for the physical was to cup his hand under his armpit and make farting sounds. You should have seen him with his little arm flapping like a chicken wing, and his bright blue eyes ablaze with delight.

At the end of the examination, Dr. Hußlein also gave me a sort of warning, and an offer of support. He told me that the school psychologist often makes recommendations based on projected class sizes for the coming fall, and sometimes misguides parents to get closer to a desirable number of first-graders. He expressed the opinion that Vincent would be underserved by another year in Kindergarten, and that some of Vincent's motor skills are above those of his kindergarten peers. He even offered to write a testimonial that Vincent is school-ready in the event that the school or school psychologist recommend that he not start school.

His meeting with the school psychologist was on Friday. It progressed somewhat differently, and not only due to a lack of opportunity to get out an armpit fart.

Vincent did behave oddly at his examination. He used his „little voice“, and drew a convoluted form in one of the shape drawing tasks. It should be mentioned that this was one of ten, the other nine of which he had copied to the tee. Well, insofar that a five-year-old can. In the sorting activities, he rapidly identified the missing parts to given shapes and the things that were not like the others in a given column. She asked him to write his name and draw a person. He wrote his name beautifully, but then he drew a peach-colored body with no face, no clothing, no defining features, but he did include ten fingers and ten toes.

This woman infuriated me with her manner. When Vincent left the room for the private consultation, she picked up the picture he drew and shook her head. She talked to me as if she might be talking to someone whose dog had just died; as if I had cause for grief. She told me over and over that I shouldn't worry, but should wait and see what the next group of experts has to say.

The thing is, I wasn't, and am not, worried. Not in a way that would cause me any sort of grief, anyway. I told her that I am proud of my son. I praised him. I told her that I know that his behavior at the examination was odd, but he is a very intelligent child. And I did my best to not act on my impulse shout at and/or shake her. In the cartoon rendering, there would surely be steam coming out of my ears, and exclamation points above my head.

She said that while she didn't think that another year of kindergarten was the right answer for Vincent, we should give some serious thought to which school Vincent will start in the fall. The options in the area are the Montessori School here in Grassau, and the Waldorf School in Prien. I am not at all enthusiastic about either of these choices. The German school system is a demanding one, and I don't know how well the kids from these schools reassimilate into the rigorous academic structures of the upper classes. I would like for him to go to the same school as Kilian. I would like for him to be able to go to school right here in the village, too, with all of the other kids from the neighborhood. Kids only ever want to belong; I'd hate to take part of that away from him by sending him to the oddball school in Prien.

At the same time, I do have some hesitation about sending Vincent to school in the fall. I am not worried about his cognitive abilities in the least; he's shown us again and again that he's a very bright boy with a remarkable capacity to remember detail. It's the social part that concerns me. We have an appointment scheduled with a child psychologist next week – we've been on the waiting list for some time. I guess I'll see what she has to say, and take it from there.

A brief chronicle of a tragedy, composed by a bystander

Caution, everyone, this family blog entry is a sad one. You might have heard that my sister-in-law Irmgard's brother Thomas died last week. I wrote this brief remembrance on Thursday night, before the funeral. I've decided to post it here because I want to share what we've been dealing with.

Today I set clothes out for tomorrow afternoon. Tomorrow afternoon's going to be tricky, and I tried to prepare the boys for it during our lunch today. Tomorrow morning, the boys have school and the end of ski lessons, respectively. And after that, we have to hurry up to Reit im Winkl to take care of their cousins while their parents go to a funeral.

The cousins' uncle has died. Thomas Hörterer, Irmgard's older brother, died accidentaly of carbon monoxide poisoning. He had just turned 40 the day before. Thomas died in his apartment, while he was eating his dinner. As far as anyone can tell, he'd been grilling on the balcony, decided it was too cold outside, and brought the grill inside. He'd sat down, and had some meat, and part of a Breze, and there, eating his dinner, he just died. No one knew. On Sunday, his parents were worried. The door had been locked; they hadn't heard from Thomas, nor had they been able to reach him. They broke the window and opened the door, and from what I know of the story, found Thomas at his dinner table, in front of his plate.

Irmgard had been at the Deutsche Museum on Sunday. She found out on Sunday night. On Monday morning, she called me. I was at the Kindergarten with Vincent, waiting for the bus to ski lessons with him, so I was out longer than usual. She left a message, and when I listened to it, I just felt that something was wrong. She'd mentioned nothing, but it must have been something in her voice. Only I thought that it was probably something concerning Peter's very elderly grandmother. I called back, and the line was busy, so I left a message. She called later.

She said, „You know my brother Thomas, right?“

„Yeah, of course.“

„He's dead.“

She told me what happened to Thomas; she'd just found out the night before, and she was crying, too.

I can't begin to imagine how she feels. I can't imagine having to push those words out over my lips.

Thomas Hörterer was a good man. 'Bodenständig', as they say here – down to earth, and with a wry sense of humor. I did not know him well, but from our predictable encounters at the standard family functions – the birthday parties, the baptisms - I could tell he was a good soul. It's not every person from Reit im Winkl who makes an effort to actually converse with the American at the party (or other person with no savory Reit im Winkl gossip to dispatch), but he did. He possessed an unlikely worldliness for a person who spent most of his life in a little mountain town. And I will never forget the time he suggested to Peter and me – only half kidding, I think – that we'd chosen Vincent's name with Vince Neal of Motley Crue in mind. I genuinely liked Thomas. He exuded a quiet friendliness, and I appreciated that I never felt like he was judging me – again, not always the case here.

I was glad when Irmgard asked me to take care of Johannes and Stefan during the funeral. I'm glad that there's something I can do. I'm worried about tomorrow – I don't know what to expect; I don't know if the boys will be bereaved, unphased, or somewhere in between, and I've been trying to prepare Kilian and Vincent for the afternoon, too.

I told them about Thomas, as best I could, in a way that wouldn't frighten them. They can't really remember Thomas, but Kilian said that it was really sad. Vincent said that it was horrible that he died the day after his birthday, because he didn't even get to play with his things.

Tomorrow might be challenging for us, but it will be absolutely nothing in the face of the crushing sadness that Irmgard's family faces. So this is what I'll keep in mind, and just do the best I can to be there in any way that I can.

pics from christmas past

Just wanted to post some pics from my iphone. We took a 4.5mi. walk from Portman park to Powell creek yesterday. It was really a nice day.

Love, Dad

We had our first Thanksgiving in St. Louis! It was so nice. Mandi and Seth worked really hard to prepare a delicious meal. Everything was great. They have worked so hard on the house! I'm worried they will be too worn out to have a wedding! It was nice to spend some time with the Thomas family and to get to know them better! It is sad that we couldn't all be together, but that is how things work out as life goes on. We were together in our hearts! Love you all--Mom

P.S. we didn't come home a day early because we weren't having fun--it was just time to go!