Gentle

I said a prayer upon waking this morning
Asked that gentle come my way
A gentle breeze with promises
Whispered in my ear:

Today there will be sunshine
Flowers will bloom with color
The sky will be blue, spotty with clouds
The warmth will encompass you

You will hear a child's laughter
See the smile upon a face you pass
Bumblebees will buzz around
Coffee will be dark and strong

The doorbell will ring with visitors
They will enter in your cleaned up home
The clock will tick as minutes go by
You will feel spring when you go outside

You won't need to take pills
To make a headache go away
You won't feel sad and cry over nothing
Because you will look in the mirror today:

And upon that recognition
This is who I am
You will find peace within your heart
Won't feel lonely or afraid

Whatever will be will be
Will gather in your thoughts
The worries and ache filling your heart
Will be forced into the back

Today I prayed for gentle
And the breeze whispered in my ear
Today you will find gentle
In this, your life, this is.

Nearly Every Day

Nearly every day I open my blog and think about the long amount of time that has lapsed since my last post.  I want to write, to clear my mind in the only way which truly helps me, words in written form.  Yet I don't.  And I am not sure why, other than this feeling of failure that has been running through my head.  I see what I write and  as I reread through my history, I realize how many things I have vowed to improve upon, yet failed in being successful.  Though writing helps to line everything up and make it more workable in my mind, I still haven't pushed forth and made the changes to actually be a success.  And so, I need to write, but find the task daunting as it shows the failure within my life.

Today, and for the past week actually, I have had a headache which sucks the life out of me.  For every minute spent working, I need 10 to reenergize.  This headache, along with the stomach pain, has me slightly worried.  Like a little nagging worry in the back of my mind.  I'm sure it's nothing, but dang, it hurts.  Every tylenol I pop helps the pain temporarily subside, but very temporarily.  And sleeping is the only manner in which the pain is completely resolved, so I have been doing lots of that too.  I can't figure out why I am always dealing with health issues of one sort or another.  I consider my age, just 40, and worry about my future.  If I now am an unhealthy mess, what will I be at age 60 or 70 when age really starts becoming a contributing factor?  What can I do to guarantee a more healthy lifestyle?

My husband is going through changes within his company.  Not just a few little reorganisational changes, but changes in which his entire department is no longer employed.  Luckily, his job is still solid, in some form or another.  But for how long?  And will he be happy in his job being one of the 10 of 70 employees left with a salary?  I am scared for our financial future, as what will we do without his employment?  How will we make ends meet?  What will we lose?  When will I be allowed the extra of seeing my family, traveling to America?  Will he remain happily employed, or will the stress of a job search be on the horizon for our family?  And what are my expectations as provider for our family in the event he can't?  Will I, after all these years of unemployment, be forced to find work to bring our family some security?

My husband and I are going through another phase of change in our relationship.  I don't feel certain and secure and happy with the place we have fallen.  We have even discussed the possibility of going our separate ways, and what we need to do to assure this doesn't happen.  However, compromise isn't forthcoming.  Neither of us is willing to give in on certain points within our relationship, so we have come to a standstill, neither of us feeling happy or complete.  When I asked him if he thought we would be better off separating and he answered an honest Maybe, it scared me.  I don't want to be without him.  I love him deeply and truly, and he has given me more in my life than I ever imagined was possible.  However, it isn't always enough.  Maybe I need too much, maybe it is more than he can give, but it is still a need.  If he can't fulfill that need, is it fair for us to remain in our marriage, always striving to find a happiness we can never completely reach?  What exactly do we owe each other and ourselves?  Is it possible for us to be committed to each other if we are unable to compromise on certain aspects within our marriage and family life?  Is there a point in which you finally say enough is enough, or do you keep fighting, keep trying to make it a success?  We aren't unhappy together, but we aren't completely content and fulfilled either.  When I cried in his arms worried about our future together, he assured me we would find a way to make it through...yet since the tears dried up, we haven't made any positive moves to find any solutions.

Kaeden and Jari, Jari and Kaeden...my boys.  Both bring my heart such a fullness.  But being a mom is so difficult.  The choices I have had to make in regards to my children are some no parent should have to decide.  Everything I do, I do for them.  Sometimes it is right, sometimes wrong, but always what I feel is best at the time.  My love for them goes above and beyond anything I could have imagined.  I can't believe that God entrusted their care to me...that He felt I was the one up to the challenge.  I take that challenge in pride, but it has also torn me apart in so many ways.  I cannot believe how much I have aged in the past few years.  Both inside and outside.  I feel so worn out and exhausted, my gray hair rippling in the wind behind me.  I am grateful I had my children when I was young.  I couldn't have given them what they needed if I had been an older mom.  My level of patience has become far too thin.

Kaeden continues to offer me many challenges, the latest of which is stealing, but not only from us.  This creates an ache in me so deep, knowing that I have no control over the situation or what is to come from the situation.  It is out of my hands, and I only hope that one day he learns from his mistakes.  I know that day will come, I have faith in my son, but I only worry that it will come too late.  Kaeden learns, but it always comes too late...he just messes up all the good that comes his way.  I so wish I could get inside his mind, just learn to fully understand, figure out a course of action that will finally be the one thing that can help him.  Since I can't, all that is left is to be here to hug him and share my love with him and hope that it is enough.  The good news is that Kaeden is thriving in school (other than behavior issues), and they feel he is ready for the next scholastic step, which is work training which they are hoping to start next school year.  I think this could be a positive turning point for my son as he recognizes what it takes to make it in life, and is given the opportunity to prove what he can achieve.  He is such a people person, something they always claim autistics aren't...but my son, he takes his own road...

Jari has chosen to move up in the soccer world.  He signed his first contract with a higher level club a couple weeks back, and has his mind set on becoming a star.  He keeps telling me it is his dream...such a big dream for such a little boy.  I worry that we're allowing him to push too fast too soon, but I know the opportunity will be taken if we don't take the step.  When he went to his first training with his new club, he was in tears and wanted to quit, minutes before he had to sign a contract.  I didn't know what to do.  He felt he wasn't ready, that he wasn't good enough, that he didn't like the pressure.  While he showered, all I knew was that I came for an information meeting with the opportunity for him to sign on the dotted line.  When he joined us at the meeting, his resolve was as strong as ever.  I whispered that it was his call...he had to make the decision, that if he wasn't ready, he didn't have to do it.  I don't know what changed during his shower, but he chose to sign.  I know he is a good player.  The question is whether his personality and character is strong enough to balance his skill out.  He's a quiet, shy, closed kid...stubborn as can be...and when you get to know him his stubbornness outweighs his quiet and shy side.  He is also struggling in school this year, but even I have to admit that it is crazy difficult.  The turnover between 4th and 5th grade was far too challenging.  Jari can do the work, and does it well, but his organization and procrastination skills are what he has taken away from his mama....not something to make life simple.

I cut my finger this past week, and cannot believe how handicapped it has made me.  In one manner or another, my injured hand has been thoroughly damaged by this cut in my thumb.  I immediately felt the same disabling feeling as I did when my arm was first damaged.  That feeling of knowing something is wrong and can't be made right...since I cut my thumb, I am having all kinds of diffciulties using my hand again.  It sucks. My case is still pressing along, slowly and surely, and I hope it works out like tortoise and hare...

So, that's a 'short' update on life.  I enjoyed a visit with my parents the beginning of the month.  It was something I sincerely needed, having their hugs and presence in my life.  We called my uncle on his birthday and the tears flowed from every direction...he was recently diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease.  What a heartbreak for us all.

Geocaching

So, we've started geocaching. Don't know what that is?

www.geocaching.com

Well, you should, as it is an extremely gratifying new hobby we have discovered individually and as a family. It's like a mini- treasure hunt with success almost guaranteed at the end. And often a little goodie to go along with it.

More than a year ago I discovered geocaching and thought it would be a f

un family act

ivity. However, at that time, Erwin wasn't all that interested, but still went on a hunt with me and the boys. Finding that first cache was a thrill, but we didn't log it as we didn't really look into all the possibilities of geocaching. We searched for a couple more, until this year when Erwin st

arted really looking into it. He was in awe of the global aspect of geocaching, as well as all the varying choices for searching. Suddenly, he was all "Let's go find a cache!" and came home with printouts for numerous caches on our trip during fall break. We even bought a handheld GPS to make for easier hiking.

We started seriously geocaching on November 1, and have already completed 27 searches. We have found three differing travel bugs (little bugs that are tracked via the website during their worldwide travels), the furthest starting out in Arizona. And all of us love the thrill of th

e hunt!

This weekend, we created our own cache. Erwin did most of the work picking out coordinates and creating questions. We made sure it was correct and then got it online today. It was exciting when we first saw it online, so you can imagine my thrill when I spotted the first geoca

cher logging into our book. I got all giggly like a schoolgirl and immediately sent Erwin a message. He left behind a new travel bug which will hopefully make its way into a geocachers hands and taken for future travels through Europe or the rest of the world.

In any case, if you like being outdoors and doing a little walking around, these caches are hidden all over the world and you become a part of a global community when you start logging

your finds. We are really enjoying it, and I can see it becoming a regular family routine to see who finds it first, what little surprise we can pull out, and keep track of all the travel bugs we've come in contact with. It's great fun. Check it out if you think it may be something for you. I simply could not imagine it wouldn't be!

Happy Geocaching from tank95!

Cliques

I am not a clique person. Never have been. Even as a kid, I found myself wondering and questioning why "everyone" seemed to have to be a part of a group. And I never was. I didn't fit in, and as a teenager, it made for some difficult times for me. Everyone was going here or there, doing things with just those people in their circle of friends, failing to notice others around them. I didn't have a group, but was on friendly terms with many. I didn't care from which 'group' a person came, if I liked them for who they were, I liked them. Simple.

I was involved in sports during junior high and high school. I was also on the school newspaper and in art club. I diddled in Spanish club, DECA, and Junior Civitans. I hung out with some of the 'druggies' and spent many lunches with the 'techers'. I would guess that I would be one of those people that if I returned to a high school reunion, they would say, "Oh, I remember you. You were with me in ......". But none of them would have a flow-blown story to tell of our fun times together. I just was. I spent a lot of time with a lot of different people only because I was involved in such a diverse number of things. No one group seemed better to me than another. But because of that, I didn't get invited to a lot of parties, or head off for a concert with the kids, or have that best friend thing going on that lasts a lifetime. I did my stuff, and left it when I headed home at night.

I am still that way. I don't like big crowds. Too many people in one place stresses me out and I get cranky. I don't like to feel as if I must do this or that because others are. And what I find, is that even 25 years later, cliques are still the same. Whether kids or adults, there is always the "cool" group, the "sport" group, the "creative" group. And me, I still diddle about in all of them, still find myself a bit disconnected, still find myself wondering where and how I fit in.

When I go to soccer games, the parents always break off into groups after for a drink while we wait for the kids. The men stand at the bar, the women sit at a table next to their closest friend, and I take a seat where there is one open and listen in on all the conversations going on around me. When I am at women's club activities, I show up and sit down, the cliques of women gathering around me, and partake in conversation with whomever happens to sit next to me. When I attend parties, I join the group with whom I have come (most often the soccer moms), and make my way around saying hello to others I know not associated with the soccer mom group. And going to the bathroom? I am not one of those women who can't head to the toilet alone. In fact, I much prefer to go alone.

This quality of mine, I find it very interesting. It still often leaves me with a feeling of being an outsider, the one who just can't quite fit in. Sometimes it bothers me, most times it doesn't (not like when I was a kid and felt so dissociated from life). I have my family and my circle of my closest friends, interestingly enough also a group who seem to have no real clique. I am who I am. I enjoy a variety of activities and interests, and not one overpowers another. I think I have discovered that I am quite well-rounded this way.

People are interesting. The variety of people is intriguing. I'm just glad that although I may be the weird one, I can be who I am without trying to fit in to be someone I am not. I am kind and generous, and if you are also kind and generous, you will fall into my circle of 'friends'. This is a group that I am more than happy to be a part of.

Wedded Bliss

This past weekend, Kaeden attended a wedding. Not only attended, but took part in the wedding ceremony. He passed out the ceremony books and led people to their seats. Then, during the mass, he read pieces of a story. This wedding, it gave me a little piece of something I can't explain. It showed me that my son has a place in the world, and where that place is. It made me see him as an independent young man, fulfilled.

Kaeden came home and told me his teacher was getting married, and that he could attend the ceremony. He was very excited, animated, happy to be part of something so big for someone so important in his life. I hadn't heard anything about this wedding, so wasn't quick to sahre his excitement. I thought maybe his imagine was taking over, as happens often with Kaed. I didn't want him to get his hopes up too high, so answered with a simple: That is nice.

Then, I received a note from his teacher, outlining Kaeden's duties during the ceremony, what time he needed to be at the church. He told me he was preparing Kaeden and his classmates for their part in his wedding. I was initially a bit frustrated by the news, getting it just 2 days before the date. Really, it's something I should have known earlier; what if we had other plans?

However, as my frustration subsided, I felt a sense of acceptance. Acceptance of and for my son. People in his life, whom are important to him, but for whom he is also important to them. A bonding with teachers, everyday people in the world. It gave me great satisfaction, knowing that this tight-knit little group of which Kaeden has been a part for two years now, really is the tight-knit group I have imagined. A class of five young men all with severe behavior problems, learning disabilities, autism, ADHD, and aggression. A class specially designed to keep these kids in school, to help them find their place in the world. Two young male teachers who hold the group together, acting not only as teachers, mentors, guides, but also as friends. They are not

Mr. Teacher, but Timmeke (an endearing form of his name) and Bossie (a nickname). And this group of seven has become my son's world for the time being. A place where he learns, plays, and fights, but then learns how to control his aggression and anger, how to deal with the emotions leftover from a fight.

When I saw Kaeden, his friends, and his teachers at the wedding (my curiosity got the best of me, I couldn't stay away), I recognized that Kaeden is exactly where he needs to be. Yes, he

needs guidance. He is getting it, from this little group. Maybe the teachers are too young to fully understand, they have no kids of their own, have only been teaching a short while. They are smaller than my son and Kaeden pats them on the head. BUT, they are giving him friendship with a twist- they are in control, they are guiding him. And my son fits in perfectly.

Kaeden got up to stand before the mass of people during the ceremony. He and his classmates read a story, each taking different pieces, all of them having a turn. And I heard that their reading wasn't strong, they stuttered and they had diffculty pronouncing words. They shied

away from the mike making it hard to understand. They sounded out words which were too big to get out in one breath. But you know what? They all did it! And they did it in a place where they were not only accepted doing it, but praised for the good job they did. I cried. Because seriously, how many times will my son be given a job so important and be given the chance to shine and do so with a group of people who accept him completely, for who he is, and even celebrate the young man he is.

I thank these young teachers, and specifically Bossie and his bride, for making their wedding a chance to do so much more than bind them in marriage. They also made awareness of kids with differences, and gave them a chance to prove just how great they can be, to shine before a large group of people, to say: Hey, look at me, I am A PART OF THIS SOMETHING BIG!

This little group, it may be small in size, but it's big in something more important: acceptance. And we could all use them as an example to learn from.

The Life of 40

Wow, it has been a long time since I have written. Every day I think, "I need to blog about this." But it just never happens. However, life has been happening. And the past number of weeks have been magnificent and good in every single way. I turned forty. I am now officially Óver The Hill' but if being over the hill means having what I have had as of late, I am happy I am here.

First, Jari and I went on our trip to London. It was, without a doubt, one of the most amazing vacations I could have imagined. I got to see my parents and my gramma, and I witnessed the reuniting of two elderly sisters whose love can be touched and made every one of my senses alive. I realized that even being far away in Europe, I have extended family fairly close by and they are all people I can turn to in times of need. They were very welcoming and hospitable and I sincerely enjoyed getting to know them more. And then, Jari and I explored London on our own for two days which was pure enjoyment from dawn til dusk with my little man. Never have I enjoyed him as much as on those two days we shared together, It was a trip I will always hold very close to my heart. When on top of the London eye, my little boy gave me a riddle to solve: "Mama" he said with two thumbs pointed in the air. "Who is somehwere here that has two thumbs and is having the vacation of a lifetime?" he asked. And as I looked at him again, he tilted his thumbs to point at himself and yelled out "ME!" And the delight in his eyes at everything surrounding him and the feeling of his hand in mine as we toured the city will be etched in my mind forever.

Party Number One: With my English family, my son, my parents and my grandmother in our little Roydon vacation house. Streamers complete with 40 decorating our little bungalow, cups of strong, hot tea, and a cake made out of muffins. A birthday Sunday traditional dinner at Morehen "Horse" restaurant complete with Knickerbocker Glory, and then a gift given to me which was like a treasured piece of heaven. A book, made of handcrafted wood boards made by my brother, a gold plaque stating 40 Years of Tera's Memories, and pages filled with photos, messgaes of love, old cards and pictures, baby announcements, awards I accomplished, and the wristband from the hospital when I was born. It was a gift that brought tears to my eyes and made the trip totally complete.

Friday evening, after our trip, Jari and I were playing Lord of the Rings on Playstation when the doorbell rang. I sent Jari downstairs to see who it was and he climbed back up telling me I needed to go down. When I opened the door, 30 people were standing there yelling Surprise and singing Happy Birthday to me, in English. The soccer club had placed the coveted door before my house, with a poem about my life and photos of me welcoming me into the 40 Club. In Belgium, it is tradition to have an old door placed in front of your home every 10 years starting at 30. This was a gift to me. It made me feel as if my life here in Belgium is complete, as if I have been welcomed here and accepted and am now óne of the club'. The poem they wrote showed me that my activities and life in Belgium are numerous when all stacked together in a poem, and that I have found my niche living in this faraway home. What my soccer friends did for me, they will never know, but it really gave me a place where I felt competely home.

Party Number Two: Soccer friends and kids running amuck playing hide and seek, adults conversing with beer and coke and bowls of chips in our humble backyard.

Saturday, breakfast with my guys complete with a vase filled with 40 red roses from my husband and gifts hidden in the yard by my son (a poem written completely by him, he also has a gift for words, and a little paper-created city) before heading off to Helmond Sport stadium for Open Day. My son goes through the soccer circuit, scoring high points. He looks good out there on the field, and my husband and I watch and cheer him on. We buy jerseys for an amazing price of €1 each worn by the players in the previous season. It's a fun afternoon, only just beginning, because my in-laws hosted a birthday dinner for me at their place. Jari and Erwin and Oma made me a fruit cake when we arrived, and we ate it up upon completion, yum! I got some gifts, the highlight being a piece of paper. Written on it was a gift certificate for a trip to Paris! Which is already reserved and arranged for a 3 day adventure this coming weekend. Wow! My sister-in-law came with reading glasses and a guide book for Paris, as well as some spending money. Have I ever said how much my in-laws mean to me, how grateful I am to them for giving me family and love and support? For making me feel special? I think I have said it many times in the past, but it remains strong to this day. They knew I wanted to visit Paris, and they are making that dream happen, for me.

Party Number Three: At oma and opa's house with Ilse and Michel, Tante Ricky and Ome Karel, Omam, Opap, and us. I arrived to find balloons and streamers decoratin the walkway to their home, along with signs stating all the reasons 40 is so great (botox, reading glasses, etc) complete with pictures of Moi! A delicious gourmet dinner, bottles of wine, and good conversation. And they did it all at my request for me. And it touched my heart.

Sunday, slept in late and woke up to get things ready. Party Number Four just around the corner, a BBQ for friends hosted by us. The weather wasn't helpful and we had to shuffle stuff around, and my husband helped to create a wonderful little BBQ world in rain-filled skies. The food was good and way too plentiful (as always), and my home was filled with friends and laughter and stories of life. I received another gift, another gift that cannot be replaced and will always touch me deeply. A photo book of my life, pictures of me growing up and now, with friends and family, me smiling and being goofy (and even a little naughty). And on those pages were also letters written to me by all these people I have crossed paths with in my life, people I have come to know and many of whom have become a second family to me. These pages filled my heart with joy. In my 40 years here on earth, I have found a good mix, a good balance, and a good basis for a wonderful life. I have been truly blessed, and from the words on those pages I have also blessed others with my presence. It is a special gift to know you have touched others lives, and this book was testament that I have. I had to put my book down to collect myself as tears filled my eyes. I am loved, oh so loved, and by so many people. What a wonderful gift.

Party Number....nope, no more parties. 40 has come and will remain til 41, and with it I have realized what a gift my life is. I am blessed, truly. Life is a party. You have to bring out the party hats and streamers and make each day alive, find that sunshine and make it glow. I think 40 has given me another new start, a place to start fresh knowing my life is complete (even tho I miss my other son who is loving every minute of his vacation in America!). Happy Birthday to me, and Thank you to all of you in it with me. Much love!

College

I am a college graduate. I have a bachelor's degree in elementary education with a minor in art. It's something that I worked very hard to achieve, and I am proud of the fact that I made it. During my school years I had a child and was a single parent. My child was very ill, for much of the time I was in school. We spent many weeks in the hospital where my son lay under tents trying to stay alive. It was not an easy task, for either of us. Early in the morning I would drop him off at daycare, attend my classes, go to my teaching experiences, then pick him up around dinnertime to spend a few hours playing before bath and bedtime. While he slept, I studied, or later, made my class schedules and prepared my lessons. We were busy, but we did okay. My grades were excellent, considering, and I sincerely enjoyed my classes once I got into my area of study.

I also had some night classes. These I did not enjoy. It was tough enough to find a daycare open during the day, let alone babysitters or a daycare during the evening. But I searched them out and found sitters who took my son in during these evening classes. None of these turned out to be good experiences. Though I loved our regular daycare and felt very secure and safe with my son there, the babysitters gave me a sense of discomfort. At the time, I had no choice. If I were to do it again, I would have searched further.

One evening daycare was a place that was also a daycare during the day. It was in a family home, but the family was less than stellar. Though the lady who cared for my son seemed kind, her own adult children living with her were less than appropriate. They drank, smoked, and were in jail for one thing or another. The lady also cared for her grandchild, a little girl who had criminal parents and was placed in grandma's care. Whenever I picked Kaeden up from her care. he seemed happy enough, but I always felt a tiny niggling doubt in the back of my mind. Something just wasn't quite up to par. I never did figure out what it was as I went with my gut instinct and found a new childcare provider.

This was in the form of a highschool girl living in our appartment complex. In the beginning, I really loved her. She came to play with Kaeden even on her 'off' hours, and we became friends, going shopping together, going to movies. Her own mom was a single working mother, so she found a place with me when she had noone else to turn to. It was a good thing, and I knew I could trust my son with her. I paid her well, and she enjoyed having her own spending money.

The problems started when she started dating a guy. He changed her. He would often come along to babysit, and Kaeden took a real liking to the guy. He was a bit older than our sitter, and had his own car. They asked if they could take Kaeden out for dinner, to go to the park. At first, I said no, but as I got to know them more, I allowed them short outings. However, one night I came home late from my class, when Kaeden should have been long in bed. The house was dark, and they were nowhere to be found. I went all over the apartment complex asking if they knew where my son was. There was no note, no phone call, and his car seat was still in the house. Brandi and her boyfriend showed up finally, just about the time I was planning to call the police. I let them have it as I held my son half-asleep in my arms. They were no longer allowed to take Kaeden out, and Brandi's boyfriend was no longer allowed to come over while she was working. Our relationship also changed, and she no longer liked me as much due to my becoming so hard. We quit doing things together, and our relationship turned into a working one.

One evening, I came home a bit early as I had an exam and finished early. When I got home, I saw my son watching tv on the couch and just a foot away from him were Brandi and her boyfriend doing more than just making out on the couch. I threw them outside, along with their clothes, and never saw her again. Not even around the apartment complex. I took her last pay to her mother, and discussed the situation with her. They moved shortly thereafter.

It was tough. But we made it through, my son and I.

A few days back my mom and I were discussing my cousin, who graduated from high school this year. She will be attending college and we were discussing what college means. I was 17 when I started attending college. I was not ready. My grades were horrible and I did a lot of partying. I lived in a dorm and then house with other college students. It was fun and adventurous, but studying did not fit in my calendar of events. I eventually dropped out and went on to New York to be a nanny and play and enjoy and explore. When I returned to school, I was 21 and went parttime. When I was 23 I had Kaeden, and when I was 24 I got serious. My little boy gave me the opportunity to find myself and know I had to make a life for him. I chopped down and my grades were perfect. I enjoyed my classe and loved teaching. I had finally found the place I belonged.

My mom never went to college. My dad did, while I was in high school. My mom regrets not going, and talking to her a few days back was the first time I ever knew this. She has had what I consider a successful life. She raised a family and created a successful business. She wishes she had attended school.

I am proud of my degree and all I went through to receive it. However, I have not been able to put it to use living her ein Europe. It frustrates me. But I know that what I accomplished was something big, and I feel pride within myself for doing so. And pride that I now am a stay-at-home mom so my children don't have to keep up with the demands of a lfying schedule. They come and go and mama is always there to give them security. One day, i will use my degree in the field. Today, I am using it to be smart enough to give my boys what they need, before life overcomes them and they have to start making adult decisions of their own.

How To Act

I'm home. And I still feel jittery, almost as if I have done something wrong. But I haven't. What I have done is good and right, something that shouldn't need consideration or thought. Yet, it took courage, it took thought, and consideration. It took energy. What do I say? Should I smile and laugh? How will she react? Will she want my company?

Today I took a leftover meal from our women's club party to the neighbor lady whose husband committed suicide a few weeks ago. We made up a plate of food with the thought that she would be happy to have it, and the comfort of knowing we cared. As she is my personal member, I was asked to bring her the food. When I was asked, it took me a moment to say Okay. It took me a moment to catch my breath and find the strength to take on such a task. But I said okay, and I completed my task, and I am glad I did.

She didn't take the plate of food (my kids are coming tonight and i already cooked) but she invited me in and told me she had only a short time to visit before she needed to leave. I wasn't sure I was welcome or she was being polite, but I am still glad I took the opportunity to do the right thing. What this accomplished was her knowing that I care, that though the funeral is over and the act forgotten by most, that she is still important and still thought of and we are open when and if she needs someone to turn to.

I drank a glass of water, talked about the weather and the garden and her kids and her parents, but we sidestepped the conversation of her husband and his death. I didn't know what was appropriate, what is appropriate in such a situation. But the simple act of my presence and my offer to be available if she needs me was well received. She thanked me for stopping by, told me she would appreciate me coming again as she said goodbye at the door.

It could have been an act, one of courage on her part as well, but that doesn't matter. I opened myself up and she let me in.

Coming to terms with how to act is not necessary in such a situation. Just being there is action enough. And today, I took action and showed someone that I care.

Dots of Goings On

• It's raining and cold today. Nothing like the rain to make the grass grow and the flowers bloom once the sun shines again. I'm trying to keep it positive. Really, I don't like rainy, cold days. It gets me from the inside out, deep in my bones. And I can't complain, our weather has been extremely good for the past 6 weeks. I just wish it would stay that way. In this part of the world we have far too many rainy, gray days. I come alive in the sun. Just like the grass and flowers. I just don't need the rain to give me the kick to shine.

• Soccer has been overtaking our lives lately. Between Kaeden and Jari we've spent a good portion of free time standing on the side lines cheering for our boys. Sunday Jari took part in TWO tournaments. That meant an ENTIRE day from sun-up to sun-down at the games. I love watching my boys play, but I think we were a bit too enthusiastic last weekend. By game 6 Jari was starting to drag. Game 7 and the kid couldn't put one foot in front of the other. He fell asleep in the car on the way home. Even a power shake didn't give him the extra energy he needed to continue. Last night we all attended Kaeden's game. He is a much different player than Jari but he's been doing a good job. He's been chosen for a number of games lately which shows that he's excelling which makes me so happy. Team sports are hard for kids with autism. When Kaeden first played, it didn't go well. But this year, he's shown he can do it, and he loves doing it. So, now we have two kids in soccer and it's time consuming. Time well spent and I love it, but it keeps us busy.

• The electric in our home finally took a plunge. Our home is old and though much of the house has been rewired, there is a section that hasn't been. So, at this moment we have shut off the power and it needs to be rewired. That means a possible removal of floors, walls, ceilings...doesn't sound like something I am ready to do. It sounds like a big pain in the butt.

• My hand has been annoying me. I have some infection which doesn't want to go away as the medication to make it go away doesn't carry to the infection due to the poor blood circulation in my hand and arm. So, the infection is spreadign instead of being cured. And I am supposed to be back in a sling not using it in the least. I haven't put it back in a sling, but I am being careful...as careful as I can with the act of life. The bad part about it is that when you have pain, it just sits there and bugs you all day long. You can't shake the overwhelming feeling and just enjoy life. There's always that little issue to remind you of your shortcomings, of the accident, of the handicap. And it's annoying.

• Kaeden is leaving fro America in 5 weeks. It is overwhelming me. I am getting nervous and excited for him all in the same breath. I am letting him fly alone on a direct flight without unaccompanied minor assistance. He is so proud of this fact. I am a little fearful. All the what-if's keep running through my mind. He'll do great. He is a seasoned traveller, knows the ins and outs. But what-if? I keep thinking maybe I should go ahead and pay for the service. But he is so proud that I feel he is able to make this trek alone. I don't want to take that sense of independence away from him. He can do it, right? It's just one flight, just one gate to find and do so in a timely manner. It's just keeping his passport safe for 10 hours. It's just taking his meds alone once. It's just going through security once, and passport control once. Oooh, what if?

• There is so much going on around here lately. This time of year is full of all the end of year school stuff, end of year sports stuff, as well as all these parties...we are part of the turning 40 crowd, and everyone wants to celebrate this milestone. That means lots of weekends filled with parties. Parties are fun, in general. But sometimes you have too much of a good thing. And I still have difficulty with the language in noisy, crowd-filled spaces. An hour is great, 2 hours is doable, 3 hours and I have a headache.
• A man in our village died last week. Didn't just die, but hung himself. He lived just a few houses down from us and I can't shake this feeling of betrayal. I feel for his wife, for his children. What must she/ they be going through? How would it feel to come home from grocery shopping, put your bike away and see your husband hanging there in a noose dead before your eyes? I helped during the services, serving to the families during the after burial reception (do you call it that?) as is customary for neighbors to do here in our village. This woman is someone I have regualr contact with and seeing her made me ache. I just can't imagine. And then, while we were cleaning the hall after the lunch, people were discussing what she was wearing...tan pants and a purple sweater...and how that is disrespectful to not be dressed in black. And I wnated to scream at them: YOU THINK IT IS DISRESPECTFUL TO WEAR TAN PANTS AND A PURPLE SWEATER? WHAT ABOUT HANGING YOURSELF WHERE YOU KNW YOUR WIFE WILL COME HOME AND FIND YOU DEAD? THAT, MY FRIENDS, IS DISRESPECTFUL! Sometimes, I don't know what goes through people's heads? Why should we care what someone is wearing? Shouldn't we be there to support others, to be friendly and nice? Why is gossip so important?

• And that is what has been going on around here. Keeping me busy and questioning life and the ways of the world. I'm sure there will soon be more to come.... in the meantime, here's a few pics of a few boys out there on the field.

Alive at the Park

Running. Laughing. PLaying. Jumping. Twisting. Turning. Today I did it all. My favorite part? Taking deep breaths trying to keep up, and feeling alive. Not just alive, but really ALIVE!

We had a strange day today...a bit of this, a little of that...and then we decided to spend the afternoon with the boys at the playground. It was Erwin's idea, his desire to haul me out of my electric blanket paradise and away to land of the living. It was so cold t

oday, my fingers and toes were numb and snuggled under my blankets seemed the only proper place to be. But no go...I pulled on my shoes, grabbed a scarf and mittens, and off we went, the four of us, my little family.

There weren't many people at the park. I enjoyed hearing little giggles of laughter as a little girl went down the slide, and a squeal of delight from her ma

ma watching her. But it was the pitter patter of the basketball on the basketball court that had my attention. Tick, tick, tick...ticktick...whoosh. It was our goal...a family basketball game.

Jari and I were on a team after I persuaded him I'm not too bad at basketball (yet again, needs persuading) and Erwin and Kaeden in their tall glory were favorites. Jari and I did good. We shared laughs, we shared moves, we made up a team and

gave each other high fives. And I huffed and puffed and wiggled and waddled all over that court trying to prove my basketball star stautus to my son.

I don't know if I was successful, but we sure had fun. And I felt alive. My cheeks tinged with warmth from moving and my lungs filling with air time and again. It felt good.

We had more fun, playing games and having races and concluding with a soccer match. Walking back to the car, I was completely fulfilled. I felt alive.

Bunches of Stuffs

It has been so long since I have posted. My life has been full of highs and lows since then, like a wicked rollercoaster ride, leaving me breathless, my cheeks a rosy tint against a spinning background.

Today I spent the day with my eldest son. I was so happy to have some alone time with just him, as we act and react so differently when it's just him and I compared to when others are around. I just feel so much more natural and at ease when it's just the two of us. Maybe that has to do with our start in life, just him and I together, or maybe it's the complicated relationships that exist in our family that make me feel this way, but when an opportunity arises for it to be him and I, I grab it and hold on for the ride. WE played games, ate popcorn and drank fou-fou drinks he created, and watched movies together. He was a picture perfect example of a picture perfect teenager spending a picture perfect day with his mom (she, however, was not picture perfect. she is going through a major self-hate phase which had better change very soon before deep destruction is done) I sincerely enjoyed my day with my friend and it was very easy and content and free of stress.

Jari started playing on his old soccer team again. In August we agreed to him moving a level higher, as his skill level was advanced and they needed another player in that age bracket. Within weeks we realized we had made a wrong decision, though our decision was based upon Jari's own wishes. He pulled away from soccer, didn't find excitement in practice, and quit talking shop. After school there was no longer a race to see how many penalties he could make before the teachers left, and his soccer skills even started to retreat. On the field, we saw a very different little boy playting a very different game from last year. I finally made an appointment with the youth soccer heads to move my son back to his old level. Happily, since the move a month ago, we are starting to see our son shine once again. He is playing, trying moves, making passes and scoring. He can't wait for practice, and comes home onlyt to run outside and play soccer. It's so nice to see that gleam back in his eye. It's so nice to have that piece of our lives back.

We went to America for Christmas vacation. It was such a wonderful week...really, truly wonderful. Just being in that large-family Christmas mode with everyone here and there and everywhere, all working together and sharing, laughter and smiles and hearing storiesd here there and everywhere. Sharing another Christmas with my grandparents, and most especially my boys having this opportunity is something I do not take for granted. My grampa at 92 and my gramma at 84 years of age, being with them and around them, it makes you appreciate life and health and experience even more. It makes you want to live a happy, fulfilling life. To make the most of what you have. My boys, my husband, and I were all very happy with this vacation, and it will be one I won't forget.

That being said, I am struggling. I am aware of this pattern in myself, a sadness and deep depression that overtakes me after some visits 'home'. Yet, I am unsure how to stop the ache that settles in, the disappointment in myself and my life, the worry with how my dreams are not coming to life. I try to encourage myself every morning, get up and paste on a new day happy face, but it isn't working. I'm not sure how to make it better, but I had better start with something physical. I don't even recognize myself anymore in the mirror, through the sadness in my eyes and the extra skin falling off my face. I want to be happy, for my boys to remember their mom as one filled with pride and smiels and hugs full of love. Not s depressed machine that hates waking up to every morning, the bitterness I have towards my husband for reasons completely beyond his control.

We took a walk in the woods, last weekend and again yesterday. It makes me feel alive, feel air on my face, feel nature and life around me...and see my boys happily running up, down, around, through, over, under...running and being boys and mine all mine. And it makes me feel temporarily like things might be okay, that this is how life is supposed to be...if only I could live life through my photographs, the ones of wind-kissed faces and freedom and energy...I need tyo find the life in my photos, feel what I see, and use it to bring it to life time and time again...live the memories to make even more.

Things

1. I rode hard today. As I pumped my legs, trying to get to therapy on time (I was late) I felt my muscles working. I always love that feeling. Why can't I make it a part of my every day? I mean, I even like it. Why do I need to be motivated to do something I enjoy?
2. I had a friend call me a few days back and she put unhappiness into perspective. Using her grandmother as a role model (someone who has gracefully lived through many losses), she suggested I plaster a smile on my face until it feels like it belongs there. after I talked to her, the smile had already started to spread. I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't have the desire or energy to try to act ökay". But I didn't have to. She saw through me and pushed me to be a better me. It may take time for that plastered smile to be for real, but her talk did me good.
3. Speaking of smiling. I recognized something weird about myself a few days ago. I was sitting on the couch watching a movie. It was strange when I heard myself laugh out loud at something funny. I tried to stop myself mid-laughter. Since when did I allow laughter to be something forbidden?
4. Last night, Jari and I were watching Click. At one point, he suggested", "I know what that remote would be great for," said my little boy. "Every time Papa and Kaeden start fighting, we could just fast forward through the bad stuff." I told him he was onto something. I told him that was a great idea. My voice portrayed the correct emotion. But hearing him voice it made me want to cry. I asked him if he wanted to tell Papa his idea. He clearly did NOT desire that confrontation. I'm glad he feels like he can open up to me about things that bother him. I only wish I had a better solution than an imaginary remote control.
5. Soccer. It stinks. My little champ is on a team who don't work together, but actually fight against each other. The team is not a team. Each individual player works to score, but never making plays as a team. After the last game parents were discussing how "the littlest player is the only who gave it his all". The littlest player is my son, a year younger than all his teammates. He's also much wiser. And, he wants to move back to his old team, as this one is taking away his enjoyment of the game. It's not easy, but a condition of our allowing him to play in a higher league was that if it didn't work out, he could return to his old team. He wants to return, and though I'm not one to say ÿour wish is my command', in such a situation my son and his desire comes first. He doesn't deserve to be put into this situation when all he wnats to do is play and improve his game.
6. Kaeden has til October 17th to wear his cast, and then hopefully we're home free. If his toes are properly healed it will be a miracle. He jumps and runs and plays as if nothing is broken. I hope it all heals well and he can join in on all his activities...scouts, Judo, soccer...he has missed out on the beginning of the season and I hope he can mentally prepare for joining in.
7. Friday both my boys are free from school. Friday my husband, who has been working extremely hard and long hours, has taken a day off. I don't know what our plans are, if we'll have a fmaily day or a mama/son...papa/son day...but I am looking forward to breaking up the routine of life. Whatever we end up doing, it will be nice to have the change.
8. That's it for now...I'm sure there will be more tomorrow...I'm sure you can't wait!

Chicken and Dumpling Brain

I'm feeling a little ADD. I have thoughts, words running through my head, I want to share, but can't. Nothing comes out in anything anyway anyone could understand. I am confused, confusing. I can't get any single thought to cooperate. I say too little in too much.

Chicken and dumplings for dinner. Yum! A whole day boiling that sucker...and tearing it apart...bones, skin, gristle...separate the meat..real meat. By the time I am done, my hands stink and I'm not sure I'll be able to eat a bite...all that ripping apart of that chicken. Cut up some carrots and onions, taste the broth...and the smell filling the house is simply delectable. Can I train my mind to steer clear of the cleaning of the bones? Oh how easy it could be to turn vegetarian. But yet, memories of the last chicken and dumplings make my mouth drip with longing.

How many quarters can make up $5. Seems like a lot, when every time Kaeden gets a quarter removed for unacceptable behavior. Today he left for school with $1,25. $3,75 used up in behavior fees over the course of the weekend. $3,75 worth of moments of anger and aggression of which turns me into a ball of nerves..not to mention the ball of fury papa becomes and the ball of energy Jari rolls into. 20 quarters. 20 chances given to be mean. 15 chances used up. 15 chances in which I have been given a headache, stomachache, and been filled up with worry, sadness, anger, and blame. Yet the $5 is working, on a small scale. 15 chances is better than the 40 we dealt with 3 weeks ago. We don't know what to do. We are at a point of uncertainty...were we ever not? His values have slipped since attending his home away from home. He no longer hears mama and papa's warnings about using those nasty words. He no longer hears us reiterating the proper place for sex. He is with peers, all of whom curse as it's cool, talk about sex cause that's what teenage boys do. But without home to bring it all together, put the priorities straight. Weekends sometimes feel like a little glimpse of hell. But the week no longer holds that tint of black and red. What is best? What do we do? 20 chances, $5 sometimes seems too little, when in reality it's $5, 20 chances too many.

Soccer...passion. The two words go hand in hand. Jari's club moved up a level, meaning we play teams much better than those we played last year. Besides moving up a level, Jari also moved up an age bracket. Put those two together, and we have what we can call a slight disaster. Not that it would have been better staying on with his own team, but our team is not a real team. We don't play together, we are like little individuals all making up this whole that's never a complete whole. I'm concerned that the passion could be removed from the soccer. Losing by 10+ points every game, getting not only beaten but slammed into the ground, and not working together as a real team could take my son's passion and crumble it. I'm not willing to let that happen. So, I am aware and watching, on top of things even as every game leaves me sitting in a pool of frustration. Passion and soccer belong together, hand in hand.

Latvia...a number of days away with my husband. A vacation in every sense of the word...no kids! What struck me was the poor living conditions, in a place filled with soviet influence. The big blocks of homes, people hanging from windows, clothing blowing on balconies. The land is fairly new it's own land, needs time to bring up their standards. In the meantime, people suffer, without knowing they suffer. The people seem happy, content, freedom finally theirs for the taking. Yet in their contentment and freedom, I am able to eat, drink, and be merry on a fraction of the cost I would normally have to pay. Erwin says my visit is bringing in tourism to them, bringing in cash. He is right, of course, but it feels so wrong that I have the chance, the money, the power to take a vacation when that little boy plays in the yard of a home nearly falling to pieces around him. Don't get me wrong, it was a wonderful experiences, so many sights to fall in love with, so much new I never imagined I'd have the opportunity to explore. And I do...I did. Vacation in Latvia...just me and him...perfection within reach.

I examine my friendships. Some people I call friends are not people I would actually consider friend material. They are just here, present, bringing with them the title of friend though they have no other qualities of friend other than physical presence. I get annoyed...with them, yes, but even more with myself. Why do I allow these relationships to continue? It isn't a sharing relationship...one of give and take. It's not like I am acting as a friend should. I wouldn't be my friend if reciprocated. I take, but I take because I have nothing to give. It's not a two way street, but one way with me in front and someone following, trying to catch up, yet never quite making it. I feel devious, a little smart, someone I would never like in real life. I'm not proud of myself, but find this easier than getting out of the relationship. It's beyond time to have a little talk. I'm not sure the talk can save the friendship...if there ever was one.

I read a book. It took me a very long time to read. Often, I dive into a book and don't put it down until I am done, submitting myself, letting it become my reality. I read a book. It took me months to complete, little bits at a time, a page here, a chapter there...never able to allow myself to dive into its reality...but it may have been because it is my reality, every day. Every time I picked up the book, I had to focus on my reality, my life. I was forced to not live as another character in another place and time, fantasizing, but think of my own situation which was often mirrored in the pages of the book. I plan to write more about this experience, when my words aren't so stifled, my mind so scattered. It was a wonderful book, a lovely story, and very true to autism and parenting an autistic child. The thoughts and feelings. Yet it didn't allow me to have those "Calgon, take me away" moments. It was a learning experience in the pages of a novel...fantasy and reality all wrapped up in one. Interesting! Thank you, Tanya.

I have more...much more...but the chicken and dumplings are bubbling just like the words in my head. Ready to spill over onto a clean surface and evaporate into a mess...this is it, this is life.

This Is Life

The clothes are all folded, pulled from the washline outside as the sun dried them throughout the afternoon, but not yet put away in closets where they're supposed to be. The fish tank is cleaned, looking rather fresh after the green that had slowly developed over the past month. The guinea pigs are munching on green beans, their cage filled with hay, their water bottle fresh and cool. The dishes are all washed, but not towel dried, and the stove is free of dinner grease and the table free of food spills. Erwin is snuggling in bed as Jari flutters off to dreamland, after a day of school and then playing with a friend. Kaeden gave me his goodbye kiss this morning as the bus hauled him away to his home away from home for the week, his bag full of prized possessions draped over his shoulder. The walls are all painted, fresh and clean, and I gaze at them again and again, a satisfaction overcoming me in the cleanliness. Emails have been sent to wish Happy Birthdays to friends, another to the doctor asking for prescriptions. My agenda faces me on the desk, knitting out my week ahead.

This is life. Just these little tasks and chores and the everyday stuff that comes with living. Watering my flowers and feeling the excitement as they grow. Sweeping off the deck outside knowing the rain will come tonight and wash the remains away. Turning on the kettle to boil water for a cup of tea. Lighting a scented candle and watching the flame make shadows on the wall, fresh and oatmeal white.

It's the little things. Life is not a flaming ball of perfection. It isn't as much fun as opening a prettily wrapped surprise. It's not like two magnets attaching with a force that can't be parted. It's not like opening the mailbox and finding not only bills and ads, but also a hand-written letter saying hello. Or opening the inbox to find a quick note from a friend. It's not like walking into my home after a busy day of chores to hear the phone ringing and my mom's voice on the end of the line, and even though I really had no desire to talk to anyone, it's a feeling of comfort and acceptance.

So, though life may not always be wonderful, may not always be filled with happy surprises, it is life, and it is comfortable. I play games with my children, snuggle next to my husband, laugh with my friends, do what needs to be done...life is life...and mine is quite okay.

A Moment of Awe

This weekend we went to the races. It's a drive a bit more than an hour to another world, still in Belgium. Spa. You may have heard of it? French-speaking, in the hilly region from where fresh water comes. Anyway, back to the races. We went to the races.

I have written about the races before. I love the Spa track as you can walk for ages and seem to never find the end, curving through forests, going down another hill, then climbing back up for another view of more trees set against another hill. And in between you see glimpses of the track. In some places you can even see the cars race by and then catch a glimpse of them 20 seconds later way off in the distance on another hill. Or, even better, you hear the cars. Their scream as they zip by you, barely allowing you to focus on their color as they go past in a foggy blur, the sound of their power pulsing through you. It definitely pulses, you can feel the blast of those cars engines in your heart, in your ears...and I absolutely love it!

It sort of feels like my own personal high. Like my drug of choice. I don't need it all the time to get by in life, but in those moments I am afforded it, I am in bliss. I sincerely am in awe of the cars, their engines and design. The tires so smooth and black. The way they speed across the track. Watching the mechanics and technicians working at an unbelievable pace to get a car back on that pathway to winning. It really is an amazing experience. (Unlike Nascar which did not even slightly light my fire).

After the races, we set the GPS to home, but took the short route through the hills and over the river, through little villages and past the blooming fruit trees. It was a pretty drive, a bit foggy, a few showers, but all looking so unlike home, which is an adventure in itself. As we drove down one road towards our destination, I took a picture and then realized what I was photographing. A sign with 4 stars naming the Henri-Chapelle American cemetery.

I have been to numerous American cemeteries in Belgium and the Netherlands. Each time I go, I am filled with disbelief and a sense of stillness. We stopped the car and though visiting hours for the reception were closed we could enter the cemetery itself through an open gate. We did.

The blue skies opened up and I was again in disbelief. Covering the cleanly manicured lawn of grass were thousands of marble crosses, creating a pattern over the vast ground. In the middle was an angel hanging in the blue sky, welcoming you to this valued place. This place where thousands (7,989) of American soldiers were buried after dying in a war. After a first glance, my throat closed and the stillness of the air surrounding me became my focus. My eyes misted over as I realized that this place in which I stood was more than just a memorial. This place housed the stories of all these men who were never able to return home in the welcome arms of loved ones. This place brought countries together in a world torn apart. This place showed courage and rage and forgiveness and insanity. It showed how much America was a place to be looked up to, the power with which to be reasoned, offering men, American men, to help achieve a victory and bring the world back to a sense of calm.

As I watched my two boys run down the rows of crosses, with a few Jewish stars changing the perfection of line across the grass, I felt a great sense of patriotism. It was these men who fought in a war to allow my children the freedom to run through grass, now on European soil. It was these men who gave their lives to allow my children to feel safe, for their needs to be fulfilled, as well as their wants. As I watched my children run across the grass, I knew that at this moment in time, they had no idea what they were running amongst. They will one day, hopefully, as they take their own children to such a place, a graveyard, a cemetery, and tell them to please be quiet as this is a place to honor great men who fought in a war. Men who gave their lives, for any number of reasons and most probably without realizigin what the outcome would be, but still courageous and giving heroes...and me in a moment of awe and disbelief and amazement...of which those race cars in Spa stand not even a second close.

A Medicated World

I am feeling old. It seems like the past year I have aged more than in any previous period of my life. I no longer feel like a spring chicken ready to go out and play, but more like an old hen pecking away trying to just get through the day.

This new medication I am taking to relieve the nerve pain I have in my hand and arm is working. The discomfort has subsided some, though not completely, but I am hesitant to say that it is working, as the side effects of this medication are numerous. If the nerve damage remains but the discomfort is relieved, BUT I easily sleep 16 hours/day (not an exaggeration), I fall into doors and walls because I have no balance, I can't focus because everything is fuzzy, and I have a near always stomachache, is the medication then working? Thse are the side effects of a medication to help relieve nerve damage.

I feel like I am in a never-ending spiral of health issues. I now need to return to physical therapy 3 days/week (that's nearly a part-time job in itself, by the time I get there, do therapy, and get home), take pills twice a day, and deal with the side effects knowing that it's not actually a cure for my hand, but a lifelong sentence to just control the discomfort that arises from nerve damage. I don't want a control, I want a cure. It feels unfair. I just want to be able to use my hand without pain. But that's too much to ask. A stupid sink and God's mysterious plan took that luxury away from me.

I am whining, yes. I have that right, as this medication I am on also has that side-effect. Being cranky and irritable and blowing up at those around you for no reason at all. Just ask my family members how much fun I am to be around. One day I can't sit still and get a single thing done as I flitter around trying to concentrate and then sit down and my eyes immediately close to block out the fuzz, but then my head falls as I head to slumberland. And the next day, having used so much energy the day before, I can't even get up or I fall over from a dizzy spell, if I can manage to wake up enough to get up at all.

It's no fun. And though I am going to hang on and finish this out for the five weeks until my next doctor visit, I cannot see this as being an option for the remainder of my life. It is doing it's job half-heartedly in controlling the nerve pain, but my life has become a misery. Nope, not for me. Onto the next option, whatever that may be. Or else I'll just live with it (it being the discomfort and pain), because I certainly can't live with it (it being the pain medication).

This accident and the handicap that has been left behind, my so-called hand and arm, have absolutely aged me this past year. I may be nearing the big 4-0, but lately it feels more like the 6-0. I can whine and cry and throw a fit, because this is my life, this is it. And it feels like a big huge lump of a disappointment. Life isn't so much fun.

Taking this medication and having a handicap has also opened my eyes to how Kaeden must feel. I wonder how his medication affects him. Does it cause him to feel dizzy, to feel off kilter, to have a fuzz filtering out the world? Does he hate it when people ask about his autism, or bring up the fact he has autism? Does he just wish it would all go away and he could just be? I have always wondered how he feels, as he isn't all that open to discussion about such things (he is unable to vocalize these kinds of issues). Being able to see life through a handicapped, drug-induced haze, I can only hope his life looks mosr positive than mine. I may be whining, but really, this is just NO FUN!

The Garden and Neighbors

My stomach is tied in knots. Today has been a stressful day for me. Earlier in the week I spoke to our neighbors about our plans to take over our yard. Yes, we have a yard which is twice as big as the one we now enjoy, we pay our taxes for that yard, yet we are unable to use it. Why? Because 20 years ago a shed was illegally constructed on the border of our land, and because of the way the houses have been separated and land issues evolved, we are required to give a 3 meter thoroughfare to our neighbors. As is the neighbor on our left, which she has done by creating a driveway. We give our three meters, but at this moment it is through the very center of our land, and I am hoping to change that to create it on the back side of our land, and give us use of our land to build a larger garden area for us to use.

So, this morning, after speaking with the neighbors who have the illegal shed earlier in the week about the circumstances, I went to discuss this issue with the local policeman. He is a policeman assigned to our village for all village issues, and I have come to know him through my crossguard duties. So, I went to him asking for advice. After showing him our land boundaries, he agreed that we had the right to recreate our yard, and went to discuss the issue with the neighbors. When he came back to my house to tell me what was said, he told me "I'm taking off my police hat and speaking to you person to person. The best way to solve the issue is to talk about it. The neighbors understand that their shed is illegal and needs to be torn down, but their oil tanks (used for heating) are housed in the shed. If you could all work out a solution so they don't have to move the oil tanks, it would be best." He then put his hat back on and told me the steps I would have to take to legally have the shed removed. It is a huge ordeal and can cost a lot of money, but I am hoping we can resolve it just between the parites involved, and I am willing to give a bit extra of my space in order to let their oil tanks stand.

So, after the poilce officer left, I was feeling quite pleased that it could all work out satisfactory for all of us. Fast forward a few hours...the neighbors (both the man and wife, earlier only the wife was home) greet me in the yard where I am working and ask to discuss the situation with me. They are Turkish and the husband doesn't speak perfect Dutch, but seems to understand it, while the wife speaks fluently. He is less willing to tear down the illegal shed. He thinks that if we take over the land on our left and leave the back as it is, everyone should be happy. He tells me how he also gives to allow our other neighbor space to drive through his land, as well as walk to his back door via his land. He keeps walking along my land borders showing me how I can rebuild my land to create room to get through without him having to remove his shed.

He is correct in that there is room, but my question is: Why should I pay taxes for my land and allow everyone else to use it, but have no use of it myself? I want to have a larger yard. I want more space to create a larger area to grow veggies. I want more room for my boys to place a swimming pool in the summer. I want to look out while I sit on my patio and not have to look into the clothes on the clothesline. It is, afterall, my land. Why shouldn't I have use of it?

So, I told the neighbors after much discussion that I may be willing to give a bit of space, but that the shed needs to come down. I told them that we could do it the easy way and come to an agreement, or we could make it difficult and let a judge decide. They want to erect a new garden shed, plus have the space for their oil tanks. But they want a large garden shed. Not just a small one which I could be willing to allow. They also kept speaking back and forth in Turkish, which I wasn't pleased about. I think they should keep it in Dutch so I know what is being said as well. She didn't translate all that he said as she agreed with him. He also claimed that if we make problems for them in placing a shed, they will make issues for our immediate neighbor and not give him thoroughway on their land. Why is this an issue? His recently renovated garage sits on their property line. In order to reach his garage, he must have throughway through our and their land.

So, I told them that we should all think about our options and we'd all sit together to come to an agreement in the coming weeks. On a Friday afternoon when we are all available. Legally the shed needs to be removed. If I don't demand that now, it won't happen (there is a law saying that once a building stand for 30 years, it is considered legal) as the years pass quickly by and it's already been there for 20. So, how much land am I actually willing to give in order to keep peace with my neighbors? Or, should I quit caring about others and just place my new fence and give my three lawful meters and say so be it, this is how it is?

It's a bit dependant on what agreement the neighbors bring back to me. If they are realistic and don't try to tell me I should be happy with what I have and just keep paying taxes for them to use my land, which is basically what they told me today, I may be willing to work with them. However, it is my land and my personal space, and I will have use of it in the manner in which I decide. Nobody is going to tell me what to do with my land. But if they are reasonable, I may be able to keep it out of court...becuase though I won't tell them, I'm just a tad bit nervous about it coming down to that. I don't like the idea of court, and my stomach is already turning just from the various discussions I had to undergo today. I'd hate to have to feel the stomach pain I'd have sitting in a courtroom. But, I will....if I have to.

Squatters

I learned something new last night. My husband came home from work and told me about the krakers (squatters) occupying the building next to the one in which he works. I have never heard the term kraker, and had no idea what he was talking about. He went on to explain what they do and the legalities of this practice in the Netherlands. I was surprised.

The law allows squatters to legally enter any building that has been uninhabited for more than one year. Until there are new renters or the building comes into use, they have the legal right to occupy the building. This law comes from the 1970's when there weren't enough homes for all the people, and uninhabited buildings became places for them to call home.

The building on the terrein where my husband works is an office building. It is huge, but has been empty for over a year. And in one way or another, these krakers have entered the building and now call it their space. Does something seem wrong with this picture?

To me, I find this practice one which puts me at a disadvantage. I have to pay for my home, taxes, power. If I was a squatter, I wouldn't have any of these costs. I may have to move around a lot, or get caught up in riots with the police, but legally they can't force me out without notice. And in an office building? How can that be considered proper housing? It seems a waste of government money to place protective forces to guard these buildings. And what about once they need to be forced out in a riot situation?

I can understand the squatters making their point, saying that these buildings shouldn't be left to rot and create situations such as this. That buildings have a purpose to be used, and not sit empty causing neighborhoods to become polluted. However, this practice seems unreal to me. They just overtake a space and call it their own? They don't follow the rules set forth by society and create a home of their own? I had no idea such a thing was legal.

So, I learned something new today. I certainly won't be leaving my home empty for year. I'd hate to come back to force a new family out of my own home.

Beek

It's another sunny Belgium day. Cold, but sunny. The skies are blue and the barren trees art against the backdrop of the sky. It's beautiful, as I look out my window, seeing the sway of branches in the slight wind. Through my other window, I can see the church tower, a tower built so long ago, in the year 1007. It's unbelievable to me, having such a piece of history right in front of me. At the top of the tower, a golden rooster stands proud in the blue of the sky.

My little village is definitely tiny. But the church tower breathes a bit of life into our tiny little place in the world. Housed inside the church is the oldest organ in Belgium, called the Gilmanorgel and dating to 1593.

We have nature areas the fall within our town limits. The canal runs through, separating our town into two distinct areas. On one side of the canal is the village, houses and people, the little grocery store, one cafe, and a snack shop. Here is also the elementary school combined with the well-used community center. On the other side of the bridge, which is now being rebuilt, slowly adding something new to the old of our town, are all the farms and farmland, all the cows and crops. This area also houses the old water mill which is now a place for picnics and the nature walk meeting point.

There is a lot of brick here. Homes are built in brick, strong and lasting. Just like in the story the Three Little Pigs, the brick home protects, and can handle any disaster. The older bricks are all of the reddish variety, while newer homes are being built with lighter tan colored brick. Sometimes, seeing so much brick gets to me. It's something quaint about Europe, and nearly unheard of in American towns. House after house built of brick, as well as sidewalks, all meshing into one. Some streets are even made of brick, or cobblestone which are beautiful but a disaster to walk on...cobblestone streets...quaint, European.

The front yards are all prettily manicured, grass and flowers, neat and tidy. Windows in the homes are covered by a sheer curtain, usually a vase or trinket placed in twos in the window. In the darkness of night, nearly all the windows are shuttered closed, keeping out the wind and the cold. Securing the home from the dangers of night.

The school yard is closed off in a great big gate and fence, and the play equipment is minimal. There are soccer goals and a basketball court, along with hopscotch and other games painted on the play surface. There are no slides or swings or climbing gyms. Children play marbles and jumprope and it sometimes reminds me of watching Little House on the Prairie. Sometimes, during recess, I go take a little walk, just to see the kids playing, hear their laughter and shouts, try to pick my kid out of the crowd as he competes in another rendezvous of soccer. The bell rings, the kids line up in lines, no talking, no whispering allowed. Once the bell rings, it's like a stillness overcomes our little village one again.

And the clock on the church tower rings. Every hour, I hear the bells number the time. One oçlock, two oçlock, three oçlock... and each half hour I hear one single toll of the bell. I have come to need the tolling of the bells, use them in judging my time. Though I know it's nearly lunchtime, time to pick up my son from the gates of his school, I only leave home as the last bell at 12 tolls.

My village. My life here in Europe. A little piece of history and nature combined in the modern technology of life in this great big world. The history is alive, as is the modern day world. It's a very nice mix.

Vacation Learnings

Erwin and I returned home from vacation last night. The non-stop cuddles I received were welcome with open arms. My baby missed his mama and it felt so good to have him in my arms again. Now I can await Friday to see my other little love again. Our vacation was a wonderful getaway and a much deserved break for us as a couple. There are many things I learned on vacation, and I'm going to try to break it down.

• My parents, wherever they are, feel like home. Having them around me makes me feel complete. On this visit, I didn't feel like a little girl, but an adult sharing my life with them. Maybe that comes from not going 'home' to my childhood home, but it felt good to be with them as the woman I am. However, being closed up in their arms was like a little piece of heaven and I am so thankful to have them in my life.



• American teenagers are a different breed. We went to eat at Taco Bell one night and the kids hanging out spilled into the parking lot and the restaurant, their clothing in shambles, and their rudeness extreme. There needs to be someplace these kids can go, other than a rundown aprking lot in some hooker town.



• I discovered a side of my husband that I don't like. He can be very selfish and arrogant, and I was embarrassed when each of my family members asked me if he was okay. His attitude put a definite damper on my happiness being encircled by family. I have learned that Erwin in a crowd of Americans (maybe just after jetlag, but I'm not sure about that) is not the place to be with him if I want to smile and laugh. I need to learn not to let his attitude affect me so much, but allow myself the comfort I feel being surrounded by family. He needs to learn that I accept our life in Europe and he could be more accepting of my needs when in America.



• I discovered that when Erwin and I are alone together, we make a very happy, content couple. We talked and laughed and touched and smiled. It was something we really needed to regain some passion in our marriage, and I think that our trip accomplished this. Being alone forces us to acknowledge the things we love about each other. I have much to love in my husband. And I am grateful for him in my life.



• I realize how much European culture has become a part of me. I missed the ease of life I have here, as well as the after dinner coffee.



• I like warmth. The sunny, blue skies did wonders for my spirit. The deep blue made me sing with happiness.



• I love the adrenaline rush of the city, but it gets on my nerves very quickly. The crowds of people and the noise start making me crazy after a very short time. All I need to feel replensihed is a day out in nature. Where we were in nature didn't matter, but it gave me a sense of peace and a disbelief in just how big the world is. Mountains, desert, rocks, sand, trees, cactus, animals...all of that is the true me.



• No matter how long I have been apart from family, when we gather together it feels like the comfort of home. Having my family members close, being able to share jokes at the spur of a moment without thinking about how to say it, having history with these people, and being surrounded by love is something I truly treasure.



• I am frugal. I was astonished by the high prices of food and goods in the American stores. I couldn't bring myself to buy some things because the cost was too high. I also realized how little I need in the way of American products. I used to have bags full of foods and supplies when I returned home from Europe, but this time it was mostly just a few treats and not really things I 'needed'. It felt good to know my life in Europe has become routine and normal and complete without American supplies. I feel as if for the first time I am completely integrated, and can enjoy those little treats from 'home' when I am there, without needing them to exist here.



• Weddings in Vegas are big business. My primary goal on this trip was to see my friend get married. I did. I also witnessed 7 other marriages in an hour. A quick (yes very quick...they get you in and out) Vegas wedding can be anything. Tammy and Richard married in a pink Cadillac with Elvis singing to them, dressed in 50's garb. It was cute. But I missed a bit of the romance and reality of what a wedding is. I guess I enjoyed the variety, but feel the specialness of the event was stripped away. It wasn't what I would have wanted for myself, but it got them married and they were happy, so who am I to judge?



• Nascar doesn't rock my boat. It was fun to see something new and I enjoyed the excitement of all the die-hard fans, but I wouldn't want to do it often. I love car races. But I like other races much more than Nascar!



• I was disappointed in the patriotism of Americans during the presentation of the flag and the American Anthem during the hockey game. There were rude comments being shouted and few people placed their hand over their heart. I was touched by this event. Tears streamed down my face as I felt the deep love for my country and what it all means: land of the free, home of the brave...In America with the flag shining. I am glad this is something I value.



• My kids are just fine when I am away, but they miss their mama. My in-laws took good care of Jari and our home, and my friends took good care of Kaeden in my absence. However, Jari wouldn't leave my side upon my return, and he was happy I was home. It feels good to be needed. Oma said that's what she realized being in my home. That she was needed, and it felt good. That's what being a mother and wife and homemaker is all about, and that is my job. I am glad I do my job well.



• I had a mini-breakdown when it was time to leave America. I was cranky and upset and didn't know why, but as I drank my morning coffee in a little coffe shop, tears spilled down my cheeks and I started to sob. I truly miss my homeland, and it hurts to say goodbye. Somehow, I am more free to be myself when I am in America. As much as Europe has become my home, nothing can ever replace the American girl that makes up who I am. I was born an American, and I am proud to be an American.

There is so much more I learned on this trip. However, I can't put it all into words. These are just a few of the points I recognized. I am glad to be back in my home, where I will cook a real meal tonight in my own kitchen and fold my laundry fresh from my dryer. It was nice to wake up to a sunny morning and go out and feed my animals. I am home. And home is where you hang your hat. Home is what you make of it. I am caught between two homes, but I fit well into both. I realize that I adjust well. I am thankful I am who I am. I am thankful I have two places I can hang my hat and feel that comfortable feeling of home.

And I am glad I have this

AND this to come home to.