I am not insecure. Am I?

Me: Will you do me a favor?
Hubby: Sure, what?
Me: Well, the bathing suit I just bought?
Hubby: Yes..
Me: Well, I'm kind of insecure about it. So, I am going to put it on. And you have to say that you think it looks absolutely hot.
Hubby: OK!
Me (in bathing suit): Tadaaaa (turn turn)
Hubby: You look stunning.
Me: You're just saying that because I asked you, aren't you?
Hubby: No, you are gorgeous. The bathing suit looks great.
Me: Really? I mean, if you don't like it, please be honest.
Hubby: I like it.
Me: You're really not just saying that? I mean, forget about what I asked. What is your true opinion?
Hubby: I like it. It looks great.
Me: OK. Thanks.
Hubby: Now stop it.

One day I'll drive him to insanity. The small confined cushioned rooms and group therapy kind.

And when I checked the correct spelling of insanity, I found an interesting definition:

Noun
* S: (n) insanity (relatively permanent disorder of the mind)
From: http://wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn?s=insanity

Relatively permanent. Is that like being a little pregnant? At least if permanent has the same meaning as permanent in my language. Interesting.

4 and 5 months

My dearest Roo,

My sweet, cheerful, smiling, happy, healthy little Roo, you've become quite a little girl. My favorite little girl.

Let's devote this month's letter to your favorites. From number 10, down to number 1, your absolute favorite:

#10: Rolling rolling rolling
You have discovered you can view the world from different angles by rolling from back to tummy and from tummy to back. You've started enjoying this just a few days ago. You perfect your new learned skill every time you roll around. It is amazing how fast you learn. The play blankets that were to big for you just a week ago, are now to small. And when I put you on one of them on our lawn, you quickly manage to roll onto our young field of grass.

#9: Faces
Preferably funny faces, smiling faces, happy faces, changing faces. Not too close, but from a 6 feet distance. You especially like to watch the face of the person that is not holding you. You don't just watch and coo at the many faces that look into your big blue eyes. You interact, and use every ounce of your baby cuteness to complete and utterly let that person fall in love with you.

#8: Nursing
One of many favorites you share with mommy. Nursing time is special. Though I guess your basic need for food plays a major part in enjoying nursing, I really do believe you enjoy it. You coo, hold my finger, look me in the eyes and forget to drink all together. I hope we enjoy nursing for at least another five months.

#7: Watching other people
In a way your little life has more variety than your brother's life at your age. We take you with us to his toddler soccer playtime, swimming and every other event life asks our family to attend. And you enjoy most of these outings. At soccer you watch a bunch of crazy toddlers and their parents run around, at the swimming pool the same amount of people enjoying what must look like an extended bath time for you. As long as there's fun and a lot of movement, you're perfectly content watching everything from a distance.

#6: Bouncing on my knee while I'm singing the Dutch song"Op een grote paddestoel"
This is one favorite you share with your brother. I lay on my back with my knees pulled up and you're sitting on top of them. I wiggle my knees while I sing and you look down. Smiling and cooing.

#5: Playing hide and seek
Mommy's here, now she's not. Daddy's here, now he's not. I don't know how many times you'll still like this, but for now you screech in total happiness when we play. I hope it teaches you we'll always be there for you, even if we're out of sight.

#4: Your 'vibrating' little Playgro blue cat
When I pull the cord, the little cat - previously Monkey's toy - vibrates. When I dangle it against your cute little nose, you giggle the cutest giggle. I am sure we'll have lots of fun tickling you, my dear.

#3: Laying on your tummy in your play pen
Laying on your tummy is not one of your favorite things unless you have something to look at. Your play pen gives you a good view of our living room, only when on your tummy. And there you lay, on your tummy, (and drooling like you're growing some teeth). When you're not watching us fool around in the living room, you like to watch yourself in your playpen mirror. You smile at yourself, and I hope that means you love that little baby looking back at you just as much as we.

#2: Your mom and dad, especially when they're acting silly
I am lucky to be one of your favorite people. For a while I was your favorite. You seemed only happy in my arms. But that has changed. You've opened up to other people. And you've bonded with your father in a special way. And if it makes any sense at all, watching you to coo & giggle with your wonderful daddy, gives more meaning to my life.

#1: Monkey
Your number 1 favorite: your big brother Monkey. When he's around, you keep your big blue eyes on him. You watch his crazy & funny actions with amazement and interest. He makes you giggle and I am sure you'll be his perfect audience when he's being funny and silly at dinner time.

Little Roo, all my favorites seem silly and unimportant to my top 3 favorite things on earth: you, Monkey and your father.

I love you,
Mommy

How my husband poisoned me

But not on purpose. I think.

The day after I got back from the hospital, I was sick sick SICK. From nausea to flu'sh.

But I just had surgery, right? Who does feel good after that? Convinced it was the surgery/ anesthesia, I did not think much of it. And every day that followed, I felt a bit better. But the nausea stayed, though mildly. Until early Thursday afternoon. There was the severe nausea again. It didn't make sense, wasn't I supposed to feel a bit better every day? But instead, I felt awful.

"Just like that time I had food poisoning", I thought..

Aha!

What did I eat?

The day after my surgery, my wonderful, caring, loving, sweet husband did some grocery shopping and bought me a big bag of 'fresh' assorted nuts. Nuts are good and I like them, so right away I ate a well sized bowl of them. The next day? Sick. And every day after that, I took a small hand of nuts. Thursday a small hand wasn't enough, no, I ate a big bowl again. And the next day? Sick again.

Now that I quit eating nuts, I feel a lot better and there's no more nausea.

While we are on the subject of food poisoning, salmonella tomatoes did not make the news in The Netherlands. Apparently we can eat tomatoes (but I will stay clear of nuts for a while).

I think it has to do with how we inspire our tomatoes.

How did you motivate your tomato plant today?

GROW TEENY WEENY TOMATO PLANT, GROW.

This was all hubby's idea. This is the first spring we are growing fruits and veggies in our garden. Though I would not quite throw away my grocery store discount pass just YET, it looks like our apple tree is growing 4 apples, our nectarine tree 1 nectarine and our four pumpkin plants have survived.

However, this little tomato plant does not look like it will ever be big enough to produce a tomato. We will see.

The idea was born out of a desire to show Monkey where food comes from. So far, he's thrilled about the whole thing. And I'm thrilled because his favorite foods are whole foods. He actually prefers green beans and carrots over cookies. That's his dads genes. They're rabbits like that.

I forgive my husband for poisoning me. He's taken such good care of me and the children. And as long as he doesn't use cyanide, I think I've married the right guy.

Have you ever had food poisoning? How did you know what it was that made you sick? Did you tell the shop or restaurant their food made you sick?

Don't watch TV for one week, no matter what.

No television at casa Nadine for EIGHT days, as of 8 AM this morning (#50 on my 101 in 1001 days- list).

HOWEVER.

I've bargained with myself (always a win - win) and flexiblelize (I KNOW that is not a word, but it should be) the "no matter what" - part. Before you protest, I have 2 good reasons and if you've really paid attention I said EIGHT days (and a week has seven, at least in Europe ;).

Reason 1: It's the European soccer championship. I did not expect to watch AT ALL because in our first set of games we have to play against France AND Italy. I know the Dutch team isn't at all bad. But France and Italy are really strong, so it was very likely that we'd get our asses kicked. HOWEVER. 'We' (note the 'We', yes it's my team too now), so WE have slaughtered the Italians with 3-0. So the no TV - rule excludes the two upcoming soccer games. I need to be there for MY team. To compromise the compromise, I added ONE day of no TV to watch a total of 4 hours.

Reason 2: Why did I not postpone realizing #50 of my list until after the games? Well, my profession (which I'll return to in about 2 weeks) requires me to stay up to date with press and news and political TV performances. Professionally, my no TV-rule would be like wearing Crocs with your wedding dress.

(Hmm.. interesting, let's Google that. NO WAAAY people. IT IS DONE. People do wear Cros with a wedding dress.)

Hold on a sec, while I gasp for air.

Thanks.

I think I am OK now.

Where was I..

Yes. No TV for EIGHT days.

Why, you ask?

Well, even though we are not big on watching television to start with, I think the thing swallows precious time. Time that could be spend with family, romancing with husband, reading, creating things, gardening, and so on and so on and so on. There's nothing like a personal challenge.

Anyone want to take on this challenge with me? I dare you :)

Peanuts

I 'm sitting on our bed, eating a small bowl of salted cashew nuts and peanuts. My laptop sits where its name strongly suggests it should be. The flowery bed cover is almost completely covered in stuff. Two finished books lay between Roo's many toys (The Wolf at the table, a memoir by Augusten Burroughs, and the first Dutch novel I read in six months: Rijk (in English: Rich) by Marjan Berk. The last one made the stitches in my tummy hurt because it made me laugh so hard.)

Another Burroughs book (Possible Side Effects) lays open on his tummy, ready to be picked up again.

I don't like reading three books of the same author in a row. It makes me feel like a groupie. But the lack of time I had before going into the hospital combined with the urgent need of a few books with upcoming bed rest, I picked what I knew. Burroughs. And I love him.

Anyway. Peanuts. Since surgery my brain feels like a peanut. Or more like peanut butter. It's a thick greasy mess up there. Today we went shopping at the garden center to buy some plants for our garden. The impressions in the crowded shop were too much to handle my peanut butter brain. I felt overwhelmed, tired, out of place. Before we left the comfort of home, I was looking forward to planting lavender. But in the shop, the presence of many different kinds of the beloved plant spiked no passion. I guess it doesn't take brain surgery to make your brain feels like it's soaked in a marijuana bath for a couple of hours.

Peanuts. I remember going to a New York museum a few years ago. If my mind doesn't fool me, it was the Whitney Museum of Art. There was a painting - a drawing actually - of huge peanuts. It was hanging next to a painting of something I can't remember. The sign next to the peanuts drawing described the painting of "The something I can't remember." And next to "The something I can't remember", the sign said "peanuts".

I stared at it for about a minute. Concluded the signs must have been mixed up, but as a person with only poster sized duplicates, I doubted my eyes. "Honeyyyy", I called my husband (then boyfriend). He too saw the mistake.

What to do?

I decided to tell someone of the museum. But only if that someone happened to be close by and otherwise leave it at that. A museum security officer sleepwalked by just that moment. I explained it to him and he looked at me as if this was some trick of me to steal a nice Hopper as soon as he'd turned his back on us. He should have known customs would never let me through with a real Hopper. We decided on a poster size Lichtenstein later. The man said something like "I doubt it," but in a polite way. Something I find very American.

Americans have the gift to say Fuck off Asshole in a nice way, with friendly words. Without offending anyone, but with a smile sweet like white chocolate daisies on a cute little marzipan stalk. Europeans, and especially Dutch, just say Fuck Off Asshole with a look that makes Grumpy look like Peter Pan on ecstasy. This is why I find conversations in the US pleasant. You always end with a treat.

The security guy got another employee. They saw the mistake. And prepared to fix it. We smiled.

I recognize a peanut when I see one.

The point of my post?

I don't think there was one. But my peanuts are finished. And my book is not. So bye bye.

"You now have 3 ovaries."

"I've placed an extra one, to be sure" my Hugh Grant look-a-like gyno joked a few hours after the surgery (when I was recuperating in my private room, hooray) .

He was referring to my plea for my ovary (wouldn't that make an excellent book title? it has a nice ring to it), seconds before I went to a nice long sleep. I knew that with the size of the cyst that had to be removed it was a possibility that (part of) my ovary had to be removed. Not willing to loose any fertility just yet, I could not help but ask him this one more favor. And his answer to that was "We're going to save that ovary."

After his reassuring words, I visualized my husband, my two adorable children and myself on a Hawaiian beach (a beach we've actually spend some time on during our honeymoon) and I dosed of with that wonderful image. And with that exact thought I woke up.

The surgery took 1.5 hours (twice as long as expected). But 'Hugh' did his thing. He removed the cyst with a Laparoscopic surgery. He was willing to try it, even though he admitted a lot of gynecologists would not attempt removing such a big cyst with a minimally invasive surgery.

The best thing? The relieve. Not just that I still have both my ovaries, but the relieve it's over. I had developed a unclimbable mountain of irrational surgery fears. Unable to overcome my fears, this was by far the most stressful ordeal I have ever experienced. Dying during this surgery was a realistic thing, according to my normally so positive mind.

Recuperating from this comes easy to me. After the surgery I did have very low blood pressure for a couple of hours which caused me to be dizzy every time I attempted to get up. But now I feel relatively great. The wonderful thing is: I have zero pain. Of course I am tired, I feel bruised and I spend most my hours in bed (as ordered by the nurses) watching Discovery Channel. But at least I can tell you how to scrape sweat tissue from a rhino and how to build the tallest elevator system in the world. How useful!

My loving husband is running our family. He's taking excellent care of me and the children. I've married the best friend, lover and daddy.

And best of all?

I stopped thinking I am at the end of my (fertile) life. I stopped looking at my kids with the fear of never seeing them grow up. I stopped looking at my husband, hoping he'll find a new wife and mommy for his kids soon.

For a minor surgery my mind created some major fears.

But I do think I'll enjoy life even more because of it.

Surgery updates

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Countdown to surgery

The mail man surprised me with a very sweet present of one of you. (you know who you are :) It is so incredibly awesome that people across the globe care about my little family that much. I was really touched by it.

Also I felt even more guilty for neglecting my blogs and blog friends for the last couple of days.

As a family we decided the days prior to the surgery should be filled with nothing but fun. So we did. The zoo, petting farms, playing with the kite and having dinner at the beach.

Tomorrow is my surgery and I think I am over most of my fears. And the good news is, I am getting one of four private rooms. Also the hospital told me I can nurse Roo after just 6 hours after the anesthesia (in stead of 24 hours) and she is allowed to stay with me in my private room. What a relieve.

It's now 10:22 PM and I am way to awake. I have to be at the hospital at 7.30 AM. Surgery will most likely be at 8 AM or a little later. I've asked my husband to update through Twitter or by posting on this blog.

See you all on the other side!

And dude, is anesthesia really the bomb? Is it like a happy la la land - drug or should I take the opportunity of this short not nursing period and drink a bottle of Chardonnay first?