14

December 19, 2003, I wrote:
10
Otger's birthday. Ten years ago in Stuttgart, a long cold Sunday. I sent Michiel and Piffin away and watched downhill skiing on tv, somehow that worked very well with the contractions.

December 19, 2004, I wrote:
11
Not only the weather, but even the forecast changes three times a day minimum. This morning there was no snow in sight, and still nothing when I look out the window. But I can tell you it hurts outside. We went to the cinema with Otger and three other boys, he's 11 today. Boy, were we lucky we didn't have to wait for streetcars, they just appeared miraculously when we needed them.

December 19, 2005, I wrote:
12
Otger is twelve today! Twelve years ago, Stuttgart. The contractions started as I woke up. After breakfast I sent Michiel and Piffin away. Alone, I watched downhill skiing on tv, somehow that worked very well with the contractions. When the contractions grew so severe that I didn't feel comfortable being alone anymore, I called Michiel and Frau Dietrich, the midwife. The midwife was wonderful, already in her sixties, with hundreds of home births behind her. She had only cut about five times in her whole carreer. She told me exactly how and when to turn, move, get up, or lie down, this way making it as easy as possible for Otger to come out. When she saw the tissue become too tight and too light, at the point of tearing, she pressed a towel against it that was soaked with hot coffee. That was enough to make the blood return to the tissue and thus prevent the tearing. Mother and son perfectly undamaged. For dessert, she put frozen spinach on my stomach. To prevent bleeding. And I didn't bleed. Not more than expected, that is. And Otger put his thumb in his mouth and went to sleep in his crib. And Michiel read through the whole thing.

December 19, 2006, I wrote:
13
Otger is 13 today! His grandfather sent him an incredible watch, he is so happy. But I don't have time now, I am trying to send this sketch to the editorial desk. And I am bootcamping to and fro between Windows and Mac. I am stupid, but the only way I can think of to get a picture from here to there is using a draft blog entry, open it in Mac, and attach it to an email. It's kind of creative, but somehow I'm sure there must be a better way.

December 19, 2007, I write:
14
The incredible watch is now one year old, and Piffin is wearing it every day. Otger just doesn't care very much for worldly possessions. In a different time, he could have been a monk. It was again extremely hard to find him a present, he doesn't ask much. A game of Backgammon was all he wished for. And a chocolate cake. And spinach pancakes, Piffin baked them. And four episodes of Weeds, we've run out now, have to wait until the next batch hits the video store.