Propose. I am begging you.

So, there comes a time, when you've been living together with your boyfriend for a while... There's talk about future, children, buying a house.. You get the point. The moment is there. You want him to do it. To pop the question. To propose. Suddenly a surprise romantic dinner is a first step into making you an honest woman and a look is never just a look. Of course, I thought I'd never be that way, that awaiting girl. But I digress.

After living together for 3 years, we choose spring 2005 to visit romantic Italic. I thought this must be THE vacation. THE vacation on which my now husband would propose.

I was confident it would happen:

it would be matter of days. All filled with romance... and cuddling... Yes, go ahead.. ask me..

With plenty of hot spots, just waiting to be the scene of a proposal. Like the Colosseum:

Too crowded maybe..

But why not here? On this old staircase with magnificent view:

Or here?

"Look, grandchildren, this is were grandpa proposed to grandma"

OK, honey, this is a great spot. It's quiet, it's got a great bench..

I'll go and sit now.

I'm ready...

No, stop!

This is better. Perrrfect.

How about asking me here? Also a magnificent view:

OK, very funny.

You have a tower growing out of your head. Another romantic moment gone. Ciao.

More stairs?

If we keep this up, I'll be engaged AND in shape.

Oh no.

I think he's lost the spot he wanted to propose.

Ah, he found it!

Did he hide the ring the ICE CREAM? How ROMANTIC!!

You're right, hiding rings in food. What if I'd swallowed it?

Here? At the Trevi fountain.. ? THIS must be it!

No no no ....

Lady, don't fall in. You're ruining the moment!!

He's getting on his knees!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To make a photo.

Let's eat some sandwiches, I'm getting hungry of being ready to be proposed.

Will he ask me on top of the Vatican? Again, a magnificent view.. can't beat it!

Maybe if I give him a kiss..

I'll help him.. Let's see if I can find us a nice romantic spot for the proposal.

This restaurant maybe?

Oh forget that. I can see a butt crack behind you. Darn those low rise jeans. I've lost my appetite as well.

Don't look so schmuck.

Up there? Sure I'll climb those stairs, for a ring you!

MAGNIFICENT view. Again. Common. I'm ready.

...

I'll turn to God for this one,

...and ask him to give me something lasting from Rome.

To turn this into a relationship that will last the rest of our lives.

9 months later...

I should have finished 'Lightning candles for dummies'!

Ok, ok, to complete the story, my husband did propose a few months after that vacation. After a romantic dinner, not in Rome but in our hometown The Hague. When I didn't expect it. Monkey of course was the best gift I could get from that vacation. We often joke how he's a little Italian as pizza and Mediterranean style fish is his favorite. But I still have no idea how we managed to conceive a baby after that much Italian wine.

"You have a celebrity crush"

"You have a celebrity crush", my husband kindly stated yesterday morning.

Me: What do you mean?
Husband: You're in love with Jason Mraz
Me: What?
Husband: Last year it was House M.D, now it's the Mraz dude.

Me: I was pregnant last year!
Me: My HORMONES were in love with Dr. House. To prove it: I haven't watched an episode of House since I gave birth to Roo.

Husband: But your not PREGNANT now!

Me: but NOW I am not in love with Jason Mraz!

(though, he's cute;)

Husband: you look just like those girls on that concert he did in Korea:

Me: Oooh! That's SO not true!!
Husband: You play his songs over and over

Me: He makes good music! Listen!
Husband: No, it's too much!

Me: You're jealous! Of a singer!
Husband: You're even blogging about him now!
Me: Yes! (...and about you, just you wait ;)

Seriously though, I have to note that I honestly think my husband was joking for at least 100% 98%. And he should be, after getting breakfast IN BED, served with a nice cold oj, hot tea and his APPLE notebook. He should be jealous when I serve Jason Mraz breakfast in bed.

This is for you, my little geek:

Update: my husband made me admit, that on the laptop he got in bed with breakfast, was playing ... Jason Mraz. I say freakish coincidence.

A quiet Sunday morning

It is early Sunday morning and I'm sitting at the kitchen table. Our central heating system is trying the fight the freezing cold that's covering our garden with a crispy white layer outside, only slowly winning the battle. The cracks and openings of our 100 year - old house let in so much wind and cold, I'm slightly shivering. I've done some laundry, unloaded and reloaded our dishwasher, made myself breakfast while my husband is still asleep. I'm sipping on a cup of hot tea and I'm listening to the wonderful tunes of Jason Mraz (make sure you click the video below, it has an amazing version of his "I'm yours" song). I've lid a few candles that were still standing here half burned after the Christmas dinners we've hosted. I'm glad we always leave the Christmas tree up until after New Year's eve. The little lights seem to magically bring coziness to the room, while the space under the tree where all the presents were until a few days ago looks a little too empty. Just like the rooms of my children.

Monkey and Roo have spend the night at my mom's and dad's house. My husband and I went to the theater with my in laws. We had dinner at the theater and watched a show (quite a funny version of the classic Dinner for one), had drinks afterward and drank wine until about 1.30 AM at my brother in law and his lovely wife. After slighlty too much wine, we stumbled to bed at around 3 AM. Fully aware we could sleep in late.

But, alas. My biorhythm is ignorant to the abundant wine intake and far from abundant hours of sleep. At 7 AM I woke up by the ticking of our central heating system. And I knew it was a lost battle to try to fall asleep again. I got up, trying not to wake my husband. Who is never bothered by the waking up before the children wake up thing.

After I made breakfast, I went into my children's rooms to collect their laundry, to put clean sheets and bed covers up and to stand there and realize I miss them. In Dutch I would say "with my soul under my arm" meaning something like carrying my soul, feeling empty. I realized that I would rather hurry up and get dressed and pick them up right away than to enjoy the quiet morning and afternoon I've been anticipating this week.

With every sound our cats make, I think I hear Monkey or Roo. And while eating my cereal, I realize I much rather eat breakfast in bed with the four of us while watching Monkey's favorite TV-shows on our laptop.

Admittedly, I've been looking forward to a little me-time as well. But on this crispy chilly morning it is not the me-time I want. It's my children. I realize, that first, I am a mom. And it's the best and most honest 'job' I've ever had. It's what I do best and it's what I love more than anything. And even on this quiet Sunday morning, I want nothing more than to let them know I will always be theirs.

The best version of I'm yours ever. Jason Mraz, I hope he comes to The Netherlands soon.

I realize the quietness will be over soon. My husband will wake up soon (I hope) and we'll be reunited with our children before I know it. Screaming my head of and torturing the first hangover I've had in years. Time for coffee, aspirin and a long shower.

Merry Christmas!

I hope you & yours have a delightful Christmas!

Robbed

Last week, someone stole 300 euros (417 US dollars) from our bank account. My husband discovered it an hour after it happened, while checking our bank account on the web. It said 300 euros was taken from our account with my bank card abroad, though it did specify the location.

Immediately my husband called our bank.

"Are you sure your wife isn't abroad?" the bank employee asked.

"I am pretty sure about that" he replied.

My card got put on hold, so the thieves could not get more money from it. Turns out we got skimmed. In The Netherlands (and Belgium) debet cards apparently aren't secured enough. Thieves adjust the money devices, so when you sweep your card, the data is copied. With a miniature camera they get your pin code.

I'm positive we'll get the money back from the bank, I am not worried about that. Especially since I went to the police station immediately and showed them my card was in The Netherlands and not abroad cashing money.

Two days later we found out the location: Valencia, Spain. Effin thieves. I would very much like to be in Spain right now spending money and enjoying the warm sun. But I strongly believe karma will come and bite their money grabbing asses at some point in their lives, hopefully before they can say paella.

Lessons learned? I will use the debet card a lot less and pay with paper money instead. I got used to using it even when paying for something under 5 euros.

This is a good excuse to buy a nice new wallet, isn't?

Girl, girl, girl

you are 11 months - and a few days - old. Again, I skipped a letter. So this is your letter for both your 10th and 11th month.

Roo bear, you are the sunshine on a gloomy fall day, you are the frosting on a chocolate pie, you are that little part that makes every day a perfect day.

The best part of you is that you are cuddly. You like to lie on top of me with your head on my chest. You can lie like that for hours if we'd let you. You can fall asleep like that and that's what you - from the day you were born - prefer as your place to sleep. However, your father and I are dedicated to let you sleep in your own bed. And most of the time you're OK with that.

FOUR teeth! You have four teeth. Sharp teeth I might add. My breasts had to learn that the hard way. We're still nursing. I love it. Though you don't drink all that much from me anymore, we still do it three times a day. I'd like to keep nursing you until you are one year old. The goal was nine months, so we're really in overtime.

You like to follow me everywhere. When I walk to another room and you lose my out of sight, you cry. But if I call your name and peek around the corner, you crawl over to me with the speed of light.

You like Monkeys toys. Especially his Duplo dolls, which frankly scares me as you munch on their heads and I'm always in doubt you might pull one of the heads lose.

If anything, you adore Monkey the most. He can make you laugh, anytime, anywhere. He's your sunshine.

You're really learning how to play. You can give me blocks when I ask, and you'll take them back when I hand one over to you.

You can wave and you do it enthusiastically. I think I have even seen you imitate some of the sign language we've been teaching you.

You love sitting in your stroller. You don't mind shopping or waiting on Monkey to finish whatever he's doing on the playground. But you also love to be taken out and sit on the swings.

At this point the Christmas tree is a major Roo magnet. Especially the little sparkly ornaments have your attention.

What you don't like? Diaper and clothes changes. It is a battle most of the time and you scream bloody murder if I try to hold you down to change your diaper.

You sleep from 7.30 ish PM until 7.30 ish AM. Napping is not something we can count on you to do. Sometimes all you nap is 30 minutes in the morning.

Roo, my little bear, you are perfect. You are innocent. You are funny. Your are active. You are happy.

You are my little daughter and I will love you always,

Mom

The day I found a miniature sextoy on our mantelpiece

Ahem. Last week... after decorating our Christmas tree

Monkey: What you're putting up there?
Me: You mean this?

Monkey: Yes
Me: That's a nativity scene.

Monkey: a..?
Me: Look here, here's little baby Jesus

Me: with his father Jozef and his mother Maria
Monkey: and what's that?

Me: a shepherd with his sheep
Monkey: and what's that?

Me: that's a little angel with a trumpet.
Monkey: and what's that?

Me: that's one of the Wise men with a gift. It looks like a treasure chest, doesn't?
Monkey: and what's that?

Me: you mean the cow? That's a little cow!
Monkey: and what's that?

Me: Ehm.
Monkey: What's thattthaaat?
Me: That's a Wiseman.
Monkey: What's he carrying?
Me: Ehmmm
Monkey: something else?
Me: Something else.

Me (to husband pointing at 'the something else'): Have you seen this? I've never noticed that looks just like
Husband: SOMETHING else.
Me: what a weird gift to bring Maria and Jozef.
Husband: I think it is very thoughtful...
Husband: ... considering the immaculate conception and all
Me: girls have needs too you know

Maybe we ought to get a more traditional nativity scene. With a barn and hay instead of something else.

Get your little Van Gogh Christmas card!

He had so much fun making our Christmas cards. I've send 5 today. Finding addresses and putting addresses on the envelopes always takes me more time than I'd like. I need to organize our address list and print it on labels or something. How do you do your address management? Any advice?

My soon to be famous little Van Gogh has painted too many cards. And since he is a true artist he wants his work to be spread out to the world. Drop me an e-mail or comment if you want me to send you one of the cards & Monkeys Christmas wishes. I've got about five to send.

It would be really great - no obligation! - if you have received the card, you make a photo of you and the card and e-mail it to Monkey (or post it on your blog, whatever works best for you). So I can point to the globe and say "Look Monkey, we've put your card in an envelope and now it traveled aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllll the way over to this very nice internet person! " Wouldn't that be fun? I think so!

My eyes are up here

What is the most witty thing to say to your member of the board when he stares at your behind and breasts?

What is the most witty answer to give a co-worker who - out of the blue - starts signing his e-mails with X instead of regards?

I try hard to deliver good work, but my breasts are always one step ahead of me.

GrassGas is always greener cheaper on the other side

Many of my blog friends are from the US (hello!) and this message is especially for them. When you fill up your tank next time...... smile!

Like the write of this post says.. "It's all relative". Explain that to my wallet. Sigh. It is time to buy an electric car.

The adoration of firemen starts at 11 months

Every now and than I write about how we would love to move to the US. Every now and than I write about the silly things in The Netherlands, things I'm embarrassed about, things I find weird and foolish about this country. But there's one tradition that brings joy to thousands of little Dutch children each here: the celebration of Sinterklaas at December 5th. We celebrated it with all grandparents with a nice dinner and home made pie.

The facts:

Sinterklaas is about the same age as Santa Claus,
He lives not on the North Pole but in Spain
He travels not by sleigh but by boat
He dumps no presents under the Christmas tree, but puts them in a bag of jute
(or in our clogs, because we all still wear clogs here. I have a magnificent Oak pair for the winter).
He doesn't wait until December 24th but comes around November 19th
He lost the Coca Cola sponsorship & world fame battle to Santa Claus

The photos:

He adds little poems to his presents. Usually funny ones!

He brought us two bags!

"Wow! A fire truck!"

"Wow! Firemen! Num num num num num"

And this one has nothing to do with Sinterklaas, but look at her blue eyes!

Furthermore, we had a busy social life this weekend (again). Yesterday we went to have dinner with my SIL and BIL and their two children after they all went to the harbor to wave goodbye to Sinterklaas. And today we have lunch with friends and friends of friends. Who knew we still had friends after living in an egg for the last 11 months (hey, isn't Roo almost 11 months? see where I am going with this? :)

What did you do this weekend?