Lately I had the impression that my life became rather uninteresting. It seemed like more and more people around me did someting worthwhile with theirs. Ever since the birth of my son I faced a rather tiring life and I even had the intention to start a ABM (Anonymous Burned out Mothers) in order to find some kindred souls. We could then complain for hours, start publishing depressing books about motherhood and get bumperstickers printed !
But I wonder if I will find enough members to join? Because more and more I met people who made it sound that their children were going to be next world leaders. They were so proud of their offspring. My own child I considered rather average and I was already pleased if he was able to utter the magic word: please!! But then A is in itself a miracle. He was born premature after 31 weeks of pregnancy. He was taken out of my womb because I turned out to have a high bloodpressure and bit by bit got poisoned.
Once he was born P and I said that we were going to be realistic. He had to show us what he got. Well turned out he was quite a character. Day three in NICU and A decided that he had it with all those tubes. The nurse told me that he pulled out his SiPAP and decided that he could breath on his own. My reaction was that she had to put it back in place. Her answer was one I will never forget: 'No, I won't to do that. A gets then very upset!' She was the first one who made me realize that this little creature (39cm, 1kg4) was a real person who was already making choices of his own.
During the time of A being in hospital he showed enough courage and every hurdle he took with a great ease or at least that is how it seemed. But I was turning into a MUM ( Messed Up Mother) and seemed to be unable to think very clearly. Making up my mind was rather a thing of the past. Instead A took charge of it Many choices were made for me by him. Not that he was aware of that.
I had been warned by many others ABMs and MUMs but it hits you right between the eyes. It is your child who decides what you do when. He was the one who chooses when to wake up, when to sleep, when to go out for a walk, when to play, when I got the remote control back, when to mess up the living- and bathroom, what I had to cook for lunch, what to write down on a grocery list and when I had to be back from a ladies night, ....... I can go on for hours what choices are made by him.
One choice I was still able to make myself was not going back to work full time. Something I still don't regret. Putting children on this rather confusing globe meant that I wanted to be there for him. I didn't want my child to be raised by others. But I can understand other parents who decide to do this. In my case this would have meant that my inlaws would have taken care of him. Grandparents are no surrogate parents but are allies in a battle against common enemy: parents. So I cut down on hours. I try now to give A what he needs and it is getting more fun now that he is four.
An other choice I had to face, but this time with P, was if we were going to fill up the house with more children choices. Well this year we decided that one was enough. Not that this was an easy ride home. I cried me eyes out and even felt guilty when I started to get used to idea of only having A running around through life!! We talked for hours, got medical advice, tried to imagine what it would be like if we had to go through this again. P, being the rather less romantic soul, was very honest, he was not up to the test. He had treated me at the time and admitted that he would never do this again. And I? I tried to imagine what a second pregnancy would be like? Well not the same!! I could see myself running around like a zombie and not feeling at ease. Professor H told me that next time they would take a much closer look at me and that there were risks to take into consideration.
I have my moments that I can walk on air and just sense that this is the best decision but there are those times that you start to wonder. Of course it is now that people around me wonder when we start for number two!! Most people seem to be surprised when I tell them we will stick to one. I seem then to be rather selfish and I even have sensed some envy in the room. But this is a choice that partly my body made for me.
So I wanted some choices of my own. And along what that last rather painful choice came new born choices. What about going back fulltime, or going back to college, looking for other job challenges, trying to dance ballet again, writting a book, redecorate our house, taking cooking classes,........ What a surprise I have now a brand new list of choices to make. So Forest Gump you are right after all: life is like a box of chocolates!!
And this weekend I picked one out of the tasty looking box: work. I adore teaching, it is my calling and I am very lucky to work in a very challenging environment. My collegues keep me sharp and my pupils make still feel very useful. But still.... This year I felt rather confused. I sensed that there was something missing. That one force I need to go for the kill every day. One day I asked a friend if that women can get a midlife crisis? Was I also looking for a younger partner or did I want to drive a Harley in order to feel young again? She couldn't give me straight forward answer and so I was forced to look further into the issue.
One morning you wake up and then you know what you miss: DRIVE!!! It is that force that I need to get up in the mornings, get into my car and then face my audience and knowing that my entertainment is still worth to pay for. My collegues seemed sometimes to come from Mars. And the few ones who had time to listen seemed to sense that I had to move on. There were so many times that I was dissapointed in my working environment.
This weekend I made up my mind by writting a cv. I took a good look at it and then send it off. And now we will see what happens. If it turns out to be nothing I decided to go back to the university and push myself to the limits. Failure might be around the corner. But this is my OWN choice and I am very happy that I found back new choices. The next one is rather an easy one: vanilla, strawberry or peach? Uhm, .........can I have one scoop each?
zondag 29 juni 2008
zaterdag 28 juni 2008
The Green Grass of Wimbledon
For me there are a few sportive moments every year that bring along some very excitement. Wimbledon is one of these. I love that tournament. The atmosphere, the elegance and the passion. Also most professionals when asked what their favourite Grand Slam is will answer: Wimbledon.
As a child I noticed that for once they weren't playing on gravel but on grass. So as soon as I got the opportunity I tried out myself what it felt like to hit a ball on grass. Gosh, rather hard. It seems like all the rules you have been taught about hitting against a yellow ball don't apply anymore. So my respect started to grow for those who managed to use their racket in an elegant way on a green surface. Me I had to face the truth: Wimbledon for dummies.
Steffi, Chris, Venus, Martina N, Martina H, Maria were some of the girls who managed to hold up that rather funny looking plate. The proof that they can beat the grass. Rodger, John, Pete, Boris, Ivan ans Björn they had white shirts covered with green spots but also that devine prize to give their cv some more color!!
At the time of John and Ivan my brother and I spend hours in front of the television to argue about balls in or out. And we ate strawberries with cream while watching the championschip point being hit. Every year again we seemed to look forward to that time that men and women dressed up in white played their very best game. I even cursied when I knew that the Duchess of Kent was present.
This year I am having a rather hard time. For the first time in long time I don't know who to cheer for. I am longing for that time that this tournament created new heroes. Once a name shows up that doesn't ring a bell I am relieved. So when Maria, dressed up and looking very posh, got hit by one of the rather unknown girl I was very excited. When an underdog has a lucky day and just seems to play on air and get all the balls where she wants them to end it is so nice to be a witness. You start to believe that when you really want something you can do it.
Wimbledon always can get under your skin. In one case it got very far. You could easily state that most tennisplayers will never hit anything else than a ball. Exceptions are the ones that have the urge to destroy theirs by throwing it away in all the directions of center court. But Wimbledon also seems to have a rahter bloody tale to tell.
Turns out that in 1907 one of their former winners commited a rather ghastly crime. An Irish lad called Leger Goold who won the title in 1897 ended up with a big debt and the only way out was killing. The body he hit in a trunk. For all the bloody details I suggest you check out http://www.wimbledon.org/. The murderstory can be found under the catagory history. Worth while to read. Try to imagine Rodger or Andy (the English have to put their hopes on a Scotsman for the next few years) as murders!?
For the real diehards you can even find some information about the grass. Because people seem to complain more and more about the surface their idols play on. It seems that the courts are two percent slower. Eddie, the Wimbledon groundsman, seems to have a hard time defending himself and the grass. He blames the weather, tennisrackets and the players for that. Fortunately for him there is still the number one gentleman of the grasscourts: Rodger. He blames it on baseline where many more players spend their time. So I guess that we won't be albe to see an other Boris Becker rolling over the net after jumping after the great volley the opponent just sent over.
I might have to stop being rather nostalgic because Wimbledon will be able to stand time. It might change on the edges. The roof over center court will also banish an other typical image of Wimblon: green covered fields and tennisfans in raingear. But what can we do about it? Wimbledon is preparing for the Olympics of 2012. I just wonder one thing: will be that the year that you can win twice Wimbledon? I hope that by that time I have an other favourite player to cheer for.
Andy, Rodger, Santiago, Radik, Flavio,Nikolav, Roham will be the white knights who will try to entertain me in the years to come. Elena, Galina, Yanina, Georgie, Tiantian, Barbora and Jelena are a few of the ladies in white who will try to convince me that Wimbledon is here to stay and that grass can be more then a surface to play football, golf, hockey and rugby on. And when they fail I still can get my picnic basket out and get down there with strawberries and an old tennis magazine recalling the past!! Just let me be retired by then!!
Good luck white knights and ladies. I believe in you all but please be respectful for the grass!! And get some extra washing powder because I want to see you jump, crawl, make funny faces, curse, yell and run for miles on that lovely divine grass!! It deserves some respect!
As a child I noticed that for once they weren't playing on gravel but on grass. So as soon as I got the opportunity I tried out myself what it felt like to hit a ball on grass. Gosh, rather hard. It seems like all the rules you have been taught about hitting against a yellow ball don't apply anymore. So my respect started to grow for those who managed to use their racket in an elegant way on a green surface. Me I had to face the truth: Wimbledon for dummies.
Steffi, Chris, Venus, Martina N, Martina H, Maria were some of the girls who managed to hold up that rather funny looking plate. The proof that they can beat the grass. Rodger, John, Pete, Boris, Ivan ans Björn they had white shirts covered with green spots but also that devine prize to give their cv some more color!!
At the time of John and Ivan my brother and I spend hours in front of the television to argue about balls in or out. And we ate strawberries with cream while watching the championschip point being hit. Every year again we seemed to look forward to that time that men and women dressed up in white played their very best game. I even cursied when I knew that the Duchess of Kent was present.
This year I am having a rather hard time. For the first time in long time I don't know who to cheer for. I am longing for that time that this tournament created new heroes. Once a name shows up that doesn't ring a bell I am relieved. So when Maria, dressed up and looking very posh, got hit by one of the rather unknown girl I was very excited. When an underdog has a lucky day and just seems to play on air and get all the balls where she wants them to end it is so nice to be a witness. You start to believe that when you really want something you can do it.
Wimbledon always can get under your skin. In one case it got very far. You could easily state that most tennisplayers will never hit anything else than a ball. Exceptions are the ones that have the urge to destroy theirs by throwing it away in all the directions of center court. But Wimbledon also seems to have a rahter bloody tale to tell.
Turns out that in 1907 one of their former winners commited a rather ghastly crime. An Irish lad called Leger Goold who won the title in 1897 ended up with a big debt and the only way out was killing. The body he hit in a trunk. For all the bloody details I suggest you check out http://www.wimbledon.org/. The murderstory can be found under the catagory history. Worth while to read. Try to imagine Rodger or Andy (the English have to put their hopes on a Scotsman for the next few years) as murders!?
For the real diehards you can even find some information about the grass. Because people seem to complain more and more about the surface their idols play on. It seems that the courts are two percent slower. Eddie, the Wimbledon groundsman, seems to have a hard time defending himself and the grass. He blames the weather, tennisrackets and the players for that. Fortunately for him there is still the number one gentleman of the grasscourts: Rodger. He blames it on baseline where many more players spend their time. So I guess that we won't be albe to see an other Boris Becker rolling over the net after jumping after the great volley the opponent just sent over.
I might have to stop being rather nostalgic because Wimbledon will be able to stand time. It might change on the edges. The roof over center court will also banish an other typical image of Wimblon: green covered fields and tennisfans in raingear. But what can we do about it? Wimbledon is preparing for the Olympics of 2012. I just wonder one thing: will be that the year that you can win twice Wimbledon? I hope that by that time I have an other favourite player to cheer for.
Andy, Rodger, Santiago, Radik, Flavio,Nikolav, Roham will be the white knights who will try to entertain me in the years to come. Elena, Galina, Yanina, Georgie, Tiantian, Barbora and Jelena are a few of the ladies in white who will try to convince me that Wimbledon is here to stay and that grass can be more then a surface to play football, golf, hockey and rugby on. And when they fail I still can get my picnic basket out and get down there with strawberries and an old tennis magazine recalling the past!! Just let me be retired by then!!
Good luck white knights and ladies. I believe in you all but please be respectful for the grass!! And get some extra washing powder because I want to see you jump, crawl, make funny faces, curse, yell and run for miles on that lovely divine grass!! It deserves some respect!
zaterdag 14 juni 2008
Fighting Irish!!!
I love Ireland and its inhabitants. One day I am going there to admire their green pastures, drink liters of Guiness, take hourlong walks, listen for hours to their sexy-sounding accents and applaud to their celtic music and have I mentioned their historical sights and many treasures? Many things to do and see in that lovely green country. And it is even not that fare away and part of the European Community. But for how long I wonder?
The Irish were that brave to vote no once more when dealing with European politics. It is not unique the French and the Dutch did it before and the Irish changed their no into a yes after a second round of voting. So this is not such big news but why am I now a bit outraged?
It is not that I don't understand why they said no. The prospect of having a president and a minister of foreign affairs that we can not vote for ourselves is not that democratic after all. And yes when I read the news that Tony was going to run for President I would have canceled my trip to the UK. As long they consider the euro as Monopoly-money they must be silenced. You can't be the President of a nation that uses money you are not able to use.
Irish are very brave people. In the States the american football team of Notre Dame, one of the better educational institutions of their nation has the infamous nickname 'the fighting Irish'. And Saint Patrick is also celebrated with a colorful parade.
Let us be fair and sqaire they have had their part of misery. The patato-famine wept out half of their nation and also made many Irish to look for food elsewhere. Even Holywood discovered thier history and made Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman ride horses like wild cowboys through the prairies in order to find the right spot to claim as theirs. Irish never give up and we were told by many.
U2, the Corrs and Sinéad O'Connor managed to put Ireland on the musical map of the world. That the Irish have been able to win more then once the Eurosong contest is very logical. Irish sounds can have a very soothing effect. Their poets have made it into the hall of fame. Yeats, Beckett and Joyce have putten down their deepest thaughts and touched our hearts.
So why then, why did they say no? If we all want the Irish into the game why did they say no? Is it because love is over. Are they fed up with us? Perhaps they just did what other European citizens not dared to do: say no! At least they were given the chance to scant their voices and cry outloud their frustrations. They are treaten as real grown ups and taken serious. Most nations consider their constituents as being rather retarded. 'Thank you for your vote and now we will take it from here.'
So lucky Irish! Of course it was not that nice to first to say 'yes' to all the extra funding that helped them to become the celtic 'european' tiger. The European Union made them become stronger and more economical appealing. Many assumed they would have expressed only gratitude by saying yes. But it is their right and so no offence. I would suggest that at least they send over a team of specialist to Brussels to explain them why also other europeans would love to do this: express their voice directly. We might sing off key more then lyrical Irish but wouldn't it be a great feeliing to feel real involved into european politics? Just let us hope one thing! That they don't deal with Europe as Yeats dealt with death:'Cast a cold eye on life, on Death. Horseman pass by!!'
The Irish were that brave to vote no once more when dealing with European politics. It is not unique the French and the Dutch did it before and the Irish changed their no into a yes after a second round of voting. So this is not such big news but why am I now a bit outraged?
It is not that I don't understand why they said no. The prospect of having a president and a minister of foreign affairs that we can not vote for ourselves is not that democratic after all. And yes when I read the news that Tony was going to run for President I would have canceled my trip to the UK. As long they consider the euro as Monopoly-money they must be silenced. You can't be the President of a nation that uses money you are not able to use.
Irish are very brave people. In the States the american football team of Notre Dame, one of the better educational institutions of their nation has the infamous nickname 'the fighting Irish'. And Saint Patrick is also celebrated with a colorful parade.
Let us be fair and sqaire they have had their part of misery. The patato-famine wept out half of their nation and also made many Irish to look for food elsewhere. Even Holywood discovered thier history and made Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman ride horses like wild cowboys through the prairies in order to find the right spot to claim as theirs. Irish never give up and we were told by many.
U2, the Corrs and Sinéad O'Connor managed to put Ireland on the musical map of the world. That the Irish have been able to win more then once the Eurosong contest is very logical. Irish sounds can have a very soothing effect. Their poets have made it into the hall of fame. Yeats, Beckett and Joyce have putten down their deepest thaughts and touched our hearts.
So why then, why did they say no? If we all want the Irish into the game why did they say no? Is it because love is over. Are they fed up with us? Perhaps they just did what other European citizens not dared to do: say no! At least they were given the chance to scant their voices and cry outloud their frustrations. They are treaten as real grown ups and taken serious. Most nations consider their constituents as being rather retarded. 'Thank you for your vote and now we will take it from here.'
So lucky Irish! Of course it was not that nice to first to say 'yes' to all the extra funding that helped them to become the celtic 'european' tiger. The European Union made them become stronger and more economical appealing. Many assumed they would have expressed only gratitude by saying yes. But it is their right and so no offence. I would suggest that at least they send over a team of specialist to Brussels to explain them why also other europeans would love to do this: express their voice directly. We might sing off key more then lyrical Irish but wouldn't it be a great feeliing to feel real involved into european politics? Just let us hope one thing! That they don't deal with Europe as Yeats dealt with death:'Cast a cold eye on life, on Death. Horseman pass by!!'
vrijdag 6 juni 2008
Women get prepared!!
Every now and then you try to imagine the perfect world. World peace, no famine, clean water, happy shiny people dancing the whole night through in perfect harmony. In that perfect world we would be able to watch television very quitely and with no stress or harsh discussions about the remote control and the programmes we will watch that night. Okay that is perhaps is a bit too much to hope for in one night.
Especially when it concerns a white and black colored object rolling over a green field that causes other human beings to go bezerk. You can already guess that the last sentence is about the number one sport that many men bestow with sainthood. It can cause divorces, fights, bankrupcy and other less nice things. But is seems also one of these exciting sports that can turn our men into their alteregos. When this sport is on the tele this is their only major interest and even your cooking seems not to matter anymore. All they go on about is that ball and the 22 men that run after it for 90 minutes. Even make obscene gestures, scream by the slightest body contact and huge other men because their favourite team managed to score. FOOTBALL that is what I am talking about.
And so women get prepared for the next few weeks because it is going to be hell. The European championship will get kicked off and that means that women find themselves off field or on the bench. Perhaps then some survival tips can help out when dealing with a men suffering of this disease linked to a ball and men in shorts.
1.EVERY NIGHT A LADIESNIGHT: Plan ahead and make sure that you can at least once hit the town with the girls. Just make sure that you don't enter a pub where there are big flat screens because then your night will be polluted with other men watching the game.
2. PICK A FAVOURITE TEAM AND PLAYER. . Just make sure that you select a very sexy guy who plays for the enemy. After a while you beloved one will give in and hand over back the remote control. He might then decide to watch the game not at home anymore. But hey you have an empty couch and you can pick the channel after all or watch a all the 'Sex and the city' dvds.
3. KNOW YOUR ENEMY. And tell the machos that also women can play football. It might hurt to hear that in some countries it is rather a girlie sport to play. Just make sure you get out of the room asap. To get the message across play J Lo her footballsong: 'Get loud'.
4. NO BEER NO GAME. Forget to buy beer and other football related foods. Exit to the local pub or friends house. Pop in that pizza into oven and make some delicous tasting magrittas and watch your favourte chickflik without being disturbed.
5. INVITE YOUR MOTHER OVER. Inlaws are never compatible with watching important games. Even consider them having over for the weekend so that you can let them watch the kids while you are having a facial. Guaranteed that your house will have had a total make over as well, the laundry will be done and ironed and your children will be fed and in bed before the end of the game. Of your men no trace. Check the local pub or other EC-freaks in your neighbourhood.
Just make sure that you don't make use of all these tips all that once. Just try one at the time. Every two years you will have to get ready for the enemy. My men are already trained and will behave very nicely. P is not into the game and A can't focus that long on the same televisionprogramme. So I will get of the hook but just know that any lady out there in need of a shelter the next weeks is welcome over.
We wish all footballwidows the best of luck. Also A wanted to let you know that he thinks that Germany will win the cup this year. And yes I might turn out to be a bad parent because I made him bet for 3 euros out of his piggiebank!! For good old times I still hope that the Portuguese will win. After living in the Portuguese quarter of Brussels you just feel obliged to become a fan of their national team. But I just hope that Figo is still on the team. Perhaps I should first check if Portugal is participating anyway!! The power of the ball is hard to resist.
Especially when it concerns a white and black colored object rolling over a green field that causes other human beings to go bezerk. You can already guess that the last sentence is about the number one sport that many men bestow with sainthood. It can cause divorces, fights, bankrupcy and other less nice things. But is seems also one of these exciting sports that can turn our men into their alteregos. When this sport is on the tele this is their only major interest and even your cooking seems not to matter anymore. All they go on about is that ball and the 22 men that run after it for 90 minutes. Even make obscene gestures, scream by the slightest body contact and huge other men because their favourite team managed to score. FOOTBALL that is what I am talking about.
And so women get prepared for the next few weeks because it is going to be hell. The European championship will get kicked off and that means that women find themselves off field or on the bench. Perhaps then some survival tips can help out when dealing with a men suffering of this disease linked to a ball and men in shorts.
1.EVERY NIGHT A LADIESNIGHT: Plan ahead and make sure that you can at least once hit the town with the girls. Just make sure that you don't enter a pub where there are big flat screens because then your night will be polluted with other men watching the game.
2. PICK A FAVOURITE TEAM AND PLAYER. . Just make sure that you select a very sexy guy who plays for the enemy. After a while you beloved one will give in and hand over back the remote control. He might then decide to watch the game not at home anymore. But hey you have an empty couch and you can pick the channel after all or watch a all the 'Sex and the city' dvds.
3. KNOW YOUR ENEMY. And tell the machos that also women can play football. It might hurt to hear that in some countries it is rather a girlie sport to play. Just make sure you get out of the room asap. To get the message across play J Lo her footballsong: 'Get loud'.
4. NO BEER NO GAME. Forget to buy beer and other football related foods. Exit to the local pub or friends house. Pop in that pizza into oven and make some delicous tasting magrittas and watch your favourte chickflik without being disturbed.
5. INVITE YOUR MOTHER OVER. Inlaws are never compatible with watching important games. Even consider them having over for the weekend so that you can let them watch the kids while you are having a facial. Guaranteed that your house will have had a total make over as well, the laundry will be done and ironed and your children will be fed and in bed before the end of the game. Of your men no trace. Check the local pub or other EC-freaks in your neighbourhood.
Just make sure that you don't make use of all these tips all that once. Just try one at the time. Every two years you will have to get ready for the enemy. My men are already trained and will behave very nicely. P is not into the game and A can't focus that long on the same televisionprogramme. So I will get of the hook but just know that any lady out there in need of a shelter the next weeks is welcome over.
We wish all footballwidows the best of luck. Also A wanted to let you know that he thinks that Germany will win the cup this year. And yes I might turn out to be a bad parent because I made him bet for 3 euros out of his piggiebank!! For good old times I still hope that the Portuguese will win. After living in the Portuguese quarter of Brussels you just feel obliged to become a fan of their national team. But I just hope that Figo is still on the team. Perhaps I should first check if Portugal is participating anyway!! The power of the ball is hard to resist.
dinsdag 3 juni 2008
Men are from Mars:fighting the green planet!!
There are those moments that you consider your beloved one rather an alien. And for me it is the season. I just stare and wonder if I still live with the one person that I felt in love with in a far away past? For the moment he is sitting in a couch and he is going through his hair with his fingers. Not very unusual for any human being. Well let me put it is this way: after watching him doing this for more then half an hour it becomes rather annoying!!
In general I am rather satisfied about the quality of my boyfriend but of course he has got his moments. And when these times arrive I better get out of the way. The pater familias changes then into a hunter with a mission. You never no what he is up to. One minute he is working in the garden, the next one he is of to get his hair cut without a decent warning.
Turns out that I then have to prepared for real surprises or nightmares. Because everything you have taken for granted can change any second. So one morning I get up and find him working in the garden, cutting the hedges. Very focused, ready for any intruders and weapons fully loaded. P the garden-soldier it is quite a sight. He even has bought a pair of trousers that are up to this dangerous job: army printed TH-pants!!! And for cleaing out the garden he gets into his UPS-outfit: completely brown. UPS would hire him right away!
You have to know P hates to do any gardening job!! He loves to look at the garden when nothing moves. So this means he likes a garden in winter when most of nature is asleep. Once spring is in the air he gets very itchy. He curses when sees the first leaves peeking through our fences. This means our hedges have to drimmed and getting back into shape. I am blessed with two men but P is the only who is up to the job. A tries to help out and gets out his weapons as well(toys) but he is forced to stay in the trenches and clean up the mess after the battle.
Of course I am very proud of my men: making sacrefices and that means that I try to help out as well. I try to keep the house clean but that is rather a mission impossible this time of the year!! While hoovering the living room and moving on into the kitchen P and A manage to bring in half of a jungle. Everywhere I encounter green leftovers that once belonged to our garden. So the only weapon strong enough to fight these green soldiers is our Dyson. Our vacuumcleaner even looks like a weapon and he is up for the fight. A is the ultimate test when he pulls out his boots and empties them in the middle of the living room ten minutes before guests arrive for dinner!
So I am looking forward to some more quite times when my men have decided that the leaves can go their own way and grow. P now considers them his worst enemy and he pays them more attention then the three course meal I have prepared. When our guests then only pay attention to the food and me I just feel so sorry knowing that it cost him sweat and tears to defeat those little bastards. Just know I am very proud of my green general and soldier. I am ready for the next green battle by being a domestic goddess! But P and A have to be able to stand brownies with some grass as well!
In general I am rather satisfied about the quality of my boyfriend but of course he has got his moments. And when these times arrive I better get out of the way. The pater familias changes then into a hunter with a mission. You never no what he is up to. One minute he is working in the garden, the next one he is of to get his hair cut without a decent warning.
Turns out that I then have to prepared for real surprises or nightmares. Because everything you have taken for granted can change any second. So one morning I get up and find him working in the garden, cutting the hedges. Very focused, ready for any intruders and weapons fully loaded. P the garden-soldier it is quite a sight. He even has bought a pair of trousers that are up to this dangerous job: army printed TH-pants!!! And for cleaing out the garden he gets into his UPS-outfit: completely brown. UPS would hire him right away!
You have to know P hates to do any gardening job!! He loves to look at the garden when nothing moves. So this means he likes a garden in winter when most of nature is asleep. Once spring is in the air he gets very itchy. He curses when sees the first leaves peeking through our fences. This means our hedges have to drimmed and getting back into shape. I am blessed with two men but P is the only who is up to the job. A tries to help out and gets out his weapons as well(toys) but he is forced to stay in the trenches and clean up the mess after the battle.
Of course I am very proud of my men: making sacrefices and that means that I try to help out as well. I try to keep the house clean but that is rather a mission impossible this time of the year!! While hoovering the living room and moving on into the kitchen P and A manage to bring in half of a jungle. Everywhere I encounter green leftovers that once belonged to our garden. So the only weapon strong enough to fight these green soldiers is our Dyson. Our vacuumcleaner even looks like a weapon and he is up for the fight. A is the ultimate test when he pulls out his boots and empties them in the middle of the living room ten minutes before guests arrive for dinner!
So I am looking forward to some more quite times when my men have decided that the leaves can go their own way and grow. P now considers them his worst enemy and he pays them more attention then the three course meal I have prepared. When our guests then only pay attention to the food and me I just feel so sorry knowing that it cost him sweat and tears to defeat those little bastards. Just know I am very proud of my green general and soldier. I am ready for the next green battle by being a domestic goddess! But P and A have to be able to stand brownies with some grass as well!
maandag 2 juni 2008
Friends for life
I call myself rather lucky when I have to tell something about friendship. I am not one of these people who calls themselves lonely. People consider me rather a social person and so I am blessed with some friends. And it seems that these people become very precious and rather a distinct specie.
Of course it is rather difficult to keep up with your classmates with whom you shared your homework solutions and latest gossip. People move around and so do friends. Once it starts to get hard work to keep up it seems like your friendship is tested and you find out that some of these friendships can't stand time. Letting go and trying to understand why life makes us reconsider some things. So during my 34 years I have made and lost friends. But the ones that I still have I call keepers.
During my life I have felt the importance of friendship. It were sometimes my friends that pulled me through the difficult times. When my father died I was very moved by them. There were days that I wanted to dig a hole and leave this globe without a trace. But thanks to my friends I was convinced that it was still worthwhile to stick around. They were the ones that took the time to listen and had plenty of extra tissues when I cried my eyes out.
And so I promised myself to be a friend in need as well. But it always hits you right between the eyes when you are called for. Bad news is not something to smile at and when your friends share rather news that makes feel down you have to be strong. Last month two of my best friends made me feel as humble as I could. One told me that her mother was diagnosed with cancer and an other one was fired!! You feel so down to earth when you hear such news. It is like a thunderbold hits your little safe haven you call home.
During the last weeks I tried to take a stand. Dealing with the sufferings of your beloved friends is like getting into the same car but you are not on the same route. Experience is then your only force. And so you have to be strong and travel back into time to recall the feelings you sensed when you found out that your life was about to change. Sometimes the past then catches up with you and it is then that your memory seems to take over.
Sadness is one of these feelings that we try to ban out of our lives because it makes us so vulnerable. Talking about it is rather not done in a society where we go ofter the big catch. And also we face some difficult decisions because we suddenly realize that the closests to us seem not to understand what we go through. 'Life goes on' or 'life goes on', were a replies that I had to hear many times when I was dealing with the lost of my best ally in life. I could have killed those people and there are still times that I have the feeling that you have to experience grief in order to be able to deal with it in a decent way.
I now just try to listen; make a pot of tea and get biscuits out of my cupboard. And then hope that I can give what my friends are looking for. There might have been words that sounded harsh or off tune but compassion was always there. I know for a fact that tears, loosing a beloved friend, parent or familymember, failing a driving test or important exam, not getting the job you were after or lose it, deciding to get out of a relationship, and many more of these rather sad moments become part of your life.
But I also found out that they make our lives more worthwhile. It are these moments that we find out that life is a rollercoaster and that we have to be prepared to go up hill but also down. Luckily the ride I am on is one that I share with beloved kindred souls. Hopefully we can stay friends and feel it in our bones that life is worth living. When I stare at a sunset I feel sad and happy at the same time because then I know that my friends all over the world will have experienced happy and sad moments. I wish then we could look at the same sunset and just be quiet together and feel connected. Hopefully I live up to their expectations!? I am there when you need me because I just know that you guys are out there doing the best you can. So dare to live!!!
Of course it is rather difficult to keep up with your classmates with whom you shared your homework solutions and latest gossip. People move around and so do friends. Once it starts to get hard work to keep up it seems like your friendship is tested and you find out that some of these friendships can't stand time. Letting go and trying to understand why life makes us reconsider some things. So during my 34 years I have made and lost friends. But the ones that I still have I call keepers.
During my life I have felt the importance of friendship. It were sometimes my friends that pulled me through the difficult times. When my father died I was very moved by them. There were days that I wanted to dig a hole and leave this globe without a trace. But thanks to my friends I was convinced that it was still worthwhile to stick around. They were the ones that took the time to listen and had plenty of extra tissues when I cried my eyes out.
And so I promised myself to be a friend in need as well. But it always hits you right between the eyes when you are called for. Bad news is not something to smile at and when your friends share rather news that makes feel down you have to be strong. Last month two of my best friends made me feel as humble as I could. One told me that her mother was diagnosed with cancer and an other one was fired!! You feel so down to earth when you hear such news. It is like a thunderbold hits your little safe haven you call home.
During the last weeks I tried to take a stand. Dealing with the sufferings of your beloved friends is like getting into the same car but you are not on the same route. Experience is then your only force. And so you have to be strong and travel back into time to recall the feelings you sensed when you found out that your life was about to change. Sometimes the past then catches up with you and it is then that your memory seems to take over.
Sadness is one of these feelings that we try to ban out of our lives because it makes us so vulnerable. Talking about it is rather not done in a society where we go ofter the big catch. And also we face some difficult decisions because we suddenly realize that the closests to us seem not to understand what we go through. 'Life goes on' or 'life goes on', were a replies that I had to hear many times when I was dealing with the lost of my best ally in life. I could have killed those people and there are still times that I have the feeling that you have to experience grief in order to be able to deal with it in a decent way.
I now just try to listen; make a pot of tea and get biscuits out of my cupboard. And then hope that I can give what my friends are looking for. There might have been words that sounded harsh or off tune but compassion was always there. I know for a fact that tears, loosing a beloved friend, parent or familymember, failing a driving test or important exam, not getting the job you were after or lose it, deciding to get out of a relationship, and many more of these rather sad moments become part of your life.
But I also found out that they make our lives more worthwhile. It are these moments that we find out that life is a rollercoaster and that we have to be prepared to go up hill but also down. Luckily the ride I am on is one that I share with beloved kindred souls. Hopefully we can stay friends and feel it in our bones that life is worth living. When I stare at a sunset I feel sad and happy at the same time because then I know that my friends all over the world will have experienced happy and sad moments. I wish then we could look at the same sunset and just be quiet together and feel connected. Hopefully I live up to their expectations!? I am there when you need me because I just know that you guys are out there doing the best you can. So dare to live!!!
zondag 1 juni 2008
This is such a surprising country!!!???
Well, I have to be honest in this case. Many times before I have told other people around the world that Belgium is rather a dull place to spend a holiday. I couldn't imagine it worthwhile to spend a fortune of your anually fee to travel to our rather tiny rainy place I call home. Perhaps I have a love and hate relationship with it and so do many other countrymen. When I was travelling around and met up with other tourists they would ask what was interesting to visit. Brussels got the five stars and all the rest just got the average score. So it seemed that advertising my own country wasn't something that I was good at. I tried to make up for the rather short list of worthwhile places to visit by telling that you are going to gain some extra weight because of the many good restaurants, the delicious chocolate and the numerous inviting looking bakeries and then I have not mentioned the many places where you can enjoy a chips (I refuse to call them French fries!!!) with real mayonaise.
But this week I realized that I have to change my mind. I have been spending a week in the woods and I was just overwhelmed. It seemed like I was driving through postcard country. All these breathtaking landscapes, rough hills, lovely little or big houses and many other surprises. It hit me that I was not in a other country but still in Belgium. I suddenly got this feeling that I only can sense when I discover something new!! I loved my country and felt the urge to tell other people that it is such a nice to place to visit.
The Ardennes are such a wonderful place and also a very historical place. It brings together to worlds: nature and war. There are so many places where you will be forced to remember that we can still enjoy these sights and call it home because of the sacrefice that other people made. Tanks standing next to the road and at the other side a breathtaking view with no houses, industrial fumes and other polluting items. And while walking through the woods with a bunch of teenagers and encountering insects, plants and water I felt free of stress.
This time it wasn't a visit to the city spa that managed me to feel relaxed and rather happy. No it were trees, clean air and the soothing sounds of nature. So when my pupils started to scream because they were 'attacked' by a monster I stayed very calm. It turned out to be a 'mei-kever' (may beatle) and I told them very quitely to be happy because these small insects make the difference. Not all Belgians will be as lucky as them to identify one. Meikevers are little animals that announce the arrival of summer and the awakening of nature. As long as they are still around seasons are a fact. To make sure that the next encounter would be rather a happy one I told them to make wish. I don't have to tell you that they were tempted to go out in the night and look for them!!
So come to Belgium and discover all the hidden treasures!! I promise you it will be worthwhile but don't forget to pack the umbrella and the sunglasses because the weather is the only thing that we can't guarantee. Welcome any time in our tiny country full of contradictions and strange situations.
But this week I realized that I have to change my mind. I have been spending a week in the woods and I was just overwhelmed. It seemed like I was driving through postcard country. All these breathtaking landscapes, rough hills, lovely little or big houses and many other surprises. It hit me that I was not in a other country but still in Belgium. I suddenly got this feeling that I only can sense when I discover something new!! I loved my country and felt the urge to tell other people that it is such a nice to place to visit.
The Ardennes are such a wonderful place and also a very historical place. It brings together to worlds: nature and war. There are so many places where you will be forced to remember that we can still enjoy these sights and call it home because of the sacrefice that other people made. Tanks standing next to the road and at the other side a breathtaking view with no houses, industrial fumes and other polluting items. And while walking through the woods with a bunch of teenagers and encountering insects, plants and water I felt free of stress.
This time it wasn't a visit to the city spa that managed me to feel relaxed and rather happy. No it were trees, clean air and the soothing sounds of nature. So when my pupils started to scream because they were 'attacked' by a monster I stayed very calm. It turned out to be a 'mei-kever' (may beatle) and I told them very quitely to be happy because these small insects make the difference. Not all Belgians will be as lucky as them to identify one. Meikevers are little animals that announce the arrival of summer and the awakening of nature. As long as they are still around seasons are a fact. To make sure that the next encounter would be rather a happy one I told them to make wish. I don't have to tell you that they were tempted to go out in the night and look for them!!
So come to Belgium and discover all the hidden treasures!! I promise you it will be worthwhile but don't forget to pack the umbrella and the sunglasses because the weather is the only thing that we can't guarantee. Welcome any time in our tiny country full of contradictions and strange situations.
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