Installment

Willem-Alexander is being 'installed' today (not crowned) as new King of The Nether Lands.
Sounds a bit like installing a new microwave.
I suppose we'll only see this once during our lives, so we'll probably watch the proceedings on TV.
I'm not very pro-royalty, I'm afraid.
And I don't even know why.
I suppose because I grew up with Queen Elizabeth as South Africa's ex-Queen, so my loyalties will always be more British in that regard.
Anyway.

 

What I'm really interested in today is winning €33,2 million which is the state lottery prize for today, and I'm scooping it up (Sorry if you had designs on it, but it's got my name written all over it).
What will life look like after today?

• Quit job.
• Paint.
• Buy an old 4x4 Landrover Discovery, green.
• Do Charity Work.
• Pay all my overdue accounts.
• But, first and foremost, fly to South Africa to see my mom and dad.

Blissful. 

.

Good morning

The 3 stooges and I drove to Breda this morning to drop Son#3 off at the creche.
I think we're giving them notice tonight, but it tugs at my heartstrings to know that he'll have to go to a new daycare here in the village in the summer...  
Son#3 loves his daycare.  
Loves the girls/ladies working there.

One down, 2 kids to go.
We drove on to the Hema, bought t-shirts on sale for the boys, and a frame that I plan on painting something for this coming week.
A second breakfast for Son#2 who is always hungry.
Bland old coffee for the mother, who is prediabetic (doom and horror - I tested my bloodsugar this week, and it's official:  PreDiabetes).
So.
Now I'm cutting out carbohydrates as much as possible, which is bloody difficult if you're vegetarian.
I just couldn't bring myself to eat a cow or a sweet old, intelligent animal like a pig.
Nothing with blood.
Except fish, but they don't count, do they?
But I digress.

 
Son#1 is moody and sullen, and now it's almost lunchtime and he's already changed into his pajamas.
Outside, it's raining and 8 degrees.
But our kind cleaning lady came to sweep up our dirt so all I have to do now, is the laundry.
Then study.
Then dinner and picking up Son#3.
I think I can handle that.


.
 
 

Pear Tree Blooming

Contrast.

Dark with the Light.

Living Green with Old Wood

Nature and Man

Side by Side.

 A precious realisation.

.

It was called Tutti

But we delivered it to the baby birds last week.

Left it out on the table in a tiny plastic bowl.

And they came for it.

 

Now Son#3 actually sleeps through the night and has started speaking a helluvalot more, and surprisingly, not crying at all.

Big boys don't have a Tutti.

Rights of passage, my son.

.

C'est Le Weekend: Tumult and Calm

It's Friday and the boys are going to their last school day for the next 2 weeks.  
Yes.
It's called the May Holiday [Hell].
A whole two weeks of having kids around me all the time.
I'm not used to it all that much anymore.

I have a helluvalot of studying to do, studying that I've been shirking in favour of household chores (I'm not kidding).
I don't know how I will remember all those facts, but I will.

Meanwhile, Son#2 is going to the doctor this afternoon to talk about his asthma and his suspiciously swollen face.  He wasn't bitten by a mosquito, so I don't know what's wrong with him.  He's also complaining of headaches all the time, and then I start getting nervous about that cyst of his.
Mmmm.

 
Today is rainy and the cat and Son#3 keep asking for food.
And I give it to them, so there will be some peace.


.
 

Beauty

  

In all its many forms.

As long as the sun keeps shining, everything outside is beautiful.

.

.

Tiny steps

This morning, I took the boys to school on the bikes.
They have a Circus-day at school, and as I left, I saw someone wheel in a popcorn machine.
Too cool.

I've been feeling very down and low the last few days.
I worry about my dad and his enormous amounts of pain.
Last night he took the morphine for the first time, but I don't know if it brought relief?
His lungs are still fluid-filled, and he needs to cough to expel it.
Immeasurable pain.
Wish I could carry it for you, Dad.

I also worry about my little nuclear family here in the Nether Lands.
The husband has too much stress.
I'm no better, and we keep wondering when life will get to be good.
Does it ever?
Or should we accept that this is it?
I don't know.
I keep waiting to finally grow up (nearing 40, ahem), and for Life to Start.
In Buddhism, it is believed that expectation is the root of all heartache.
Perhaps they're right.
Perhaps life is just mindful moments strung together.

Right now, the only value my life has, is the love that I feel.


.

Love is...

When your two-year old brings you flower after flower after flower.

.

The Hills Were Alive

Not with the sound of music, but of the 5 of us, together.
It was good in the Ardennes.
Peaceful-ish.

We rented a holiday house in Vielsalm, only 45 square meters.
I thought we would drive each other nuts, but the proximity was blissful, actually.
The big downer was that the poor husband was - still is - sick as an old sea dog, but even then he took the boys swimming, looking for wild boars in the woods, picking up wood, and for mini golf.
The husband is a great dad.
I can cook and clean and complain.
The 3 Cs quite prevalent in my life.

On Saturday, we went to PlopsaCoo, close to the Coo Waterfalls.

 
The boys had fun, went on rides, we ate french fries and drank beer, then back to the holiday home. 

Cold but cozy.
Last night, we came home late, and Son#1 only managed to go to bed at 23h00.
Sigh.

Meanwhile, my dad got a different form of morphine which we're hoping will help, and a higher dose of his existing pain medication, which is also showing less pain so far.
Hang in there you old fart!

Today I'll have to study my behind off, which I wish could be literal, because my behind has grown to enormous proportions, prompting me to go for a fast walk this morning.
Everything feels tight.
All my clothes.
Son#2 even remarked - with admiration, poor innocent dear:  Wow!  You have fat legs!  You must be very strong!

Shoot them or Hug them.
Sometimes the two go hand-in-hand.


.
 
 

C'est Le Weekend: On the Road Again

The husband, wisely, decided we needed a change of scenery to pep up our murky moods, so we're off to the Belgian Ardennes this weekend.

It will be cold, but sunny, and as long as the boys can play outside, I am one happy woman.
Yesterday, to get into the swing of things, the boys set to cleaning the garden.

 
Son#1 is now convinced that he wants to be a gardener.
A juggling gardener, because he's been practising with tennis balls for a whole day now.

My dad is out of the hospital, and we're waiting for his new pain medication to kick in.
He stopped taking the Tramadol in hospital as he was starting to hallucinate on it, but then they offered him no other pain medication.
It sounds like the hospital from hell with sarcastic oncologists (When I get the sms from God, I'll let you know when your nausea passes) and prison-guard matrons (You've been transferred?  Well, you fall under my rules and regulations now).
Where does the 'caring'-part come in?
Shame on you, St George's.
Discharge seemed to be the better option.
Hang in there, darling Dad!

Sigh.
Now Son#3 is eating muesli and yoghurt for breakfast with an American football next to his bowl, mentioning 'zombies'.
The joys of having murderous older brothers.

.