This week was a blur of transitions, reunions, ceramic elephants, missed trains, and philosophical chats about life goals – in short, a classic “me” week.
So yes – I’ve officially started the Wiedereingliederung (return-to-work) program. I’m back in the Kita from 9 to 12 every day, and let me tell you, those three hours fly by like a toddler chasing bubbles.
It was lovely seeing the children again. Some had grown, some had new haircuts, and one child (whom I swear barely acknowledged my existence before) screamed “JASMIN!” across the hallway like I was a long-lost celebrity. A hug from a child I helped settle months ago? Yes, please. My heart melted.
Of course, I’m not allowed to lift or carry yet, which means the tiny ones are off-limits for now. It’s tough – I miss being fully hands-on. But the big kids kept me busy with curious questions: “Where were you?” “Were you sick?” “Are you back forever?” And my personal favourite: “Do you live at the hospital now?” (Um. No.)
Honestly, three hours feels like a warm-up lap in a marathon – just when things get going, it’s time for me to clock out. But next week I’ll be doing four hours. Progress!
Physio is going well, too. More mobility, fewer sharp pains – except evenings, when my back gives me a stern reminder that I’m no longer 25. Could be the injury… or could be life. Who knows?
Now let’s talk about Friday. Aka: Lost in Translation (and Navigation).
It was our Pädagogischer Tag – a team-building day with no children and lots of adult bonding. The plan? Art café in the morning, barbecue in the afternoon.
Sounds simple. Except I missed the train. Literally by a second. Classic.
I took the bus instead, got off at the correct stop, and followed my trusty phone map… straight to the back of a warehouse. Nothing but delivery trucks and confused pigeons. I wandered. I guessed. I hoped. No dice.
Thankfully, my friend was on her way, picked me up (plus another colleague), and we went full Sherlock Holmes trying to find this place. Her car navigation? Useless. We circled the block three times like confused pizzas. Called another colleague – she pinned the location. SAME PLACE where I got lost.
Finally, I said, “Let’s check this car park one more time.” Lo and behold – there it was. The sign we were told to look for? Way up high on a tall building we’d been ignoring. Moral of the story: sometimes life hides your answers just above eye level.
The art café was amazing. We got to pick ceramics to paint – I chose a little vase (then another, then a cute elephant, because self-control is overrated). I painted in all shades of green, because green = life, peace, and me, well except the elephant of course. Three hours wasn’t enough. My friend and I agreed: we’re coming back.
I was supposed to skip the barbecue and go to physio, but peer pressure is real and friendly. My friend begged me to stay, so I canceled my session (sorry, back!) and joined the fun. Laughter, food, stories – and yes, early exit because I could feel the back whispering, “Told you so.”
Saturday? Bathroom cleaning.
I know. Glamorous. But it had to be done – especially after two months of “maintenance mode.” I tried to incorporate physio movements into the process. Bent, stretched, scrubbed. Boom. Functional fitness.
Then came our “let’s-leave-at-noon” trip to Siegburg. Naturally, we left at 4pm. Because… us.
No Duolingo during the drive – my husband and I ended up having one of those deep “align your life goals” talks. I rambled about all the things I want to do, and he gently reminded me to maybe, just maybe, pick one thing and focus. Fair. He’s my steady when my brain goes full chaotic octopus.
And now it’s Sunday.
We’re on our way to his grandparents’ for a cozy little barbecue. The weather is moody – windy, cloudy, threatening rain – but honestly, I love being with them no matter what. Also: full German conversation mode = free language practice!
Duolingo update?
I missed a day (gasp), and now I’m dangling in the demotion zone of the Diamond League. I’m hoping this car ride buys me enough time to claw my way back. I refuse to lose to cartoon owl pressure. Stay tuned.
A little lesson to end the week?
Returning doesn’t always mean rushing. Healing isn’t linear. And transitions – whether physical, emotional, or logistical – take time. Some days, it’s three quiet hours with children. Other days, it’s a detour behind a warehouse, wondering if you’re lost again (literally or figuratively).
But even in the missed trains, the backaches, and the messy timing, there’s something steady to hold onto: you’re still moving. Still showing up. Still learning what your pace looks like now.
So here’s to small steps, unexpected turns, and the quiet, mindful presence it takes to keep going – one green-painted vase, one Duolingo streak, one awkward physio exercise at a time.