Surviving my third pneumonia

I am finally starting to feel a little more energetic. I think what bothers me the most when I'm sick is not the pain or the fever but the inability to halt the complete destruction of the house taking place before my very watery, fever-dim eyes. When I don't have the strength to fight the advancement of Kant research material laboriously and gradually seizing control of the kitchen table, not to mention the distribution of toys around the house and other disorders stride, everything turns into a mess, and this bothers me an almost alarmingly lot. As soon as I have the strength to exceed primary functionality, I commence the expurgation.

How did it get this bad? Last week I was on the Atkins diet, happily loosing a pound a day, when I found myself coughing oysters; eventually on Monday, I went to the doctor and got a sick-note after the suspiscious diagnose "viral bronchitis". I "should feel better by Thursday" she promised. On Tuesday I had however to attend a screening day I had been scheduled for for weeks; a simple matter that turned into a day of torture (subject for another blog), and by Wednesday I felt worse, suffering from fever, worse cough and aches. The next morning I went back to the doctor and was immediately sent home with a prescribtion for penicillin and bedrest. To top this off, the oldest one came down with a fever Thursday night, further adding to the family misery. A couple of unfortunate days indeed: I am however glad to report that we all are on the mend now.

By Lovain

The youngest one's nose scab

When I got home from work the other day, I was met by the youngest one by the door, and he had a scraped-up nose. It looked awful! Covering his entire nudge, the scrape had bled and was already starting to get infected. Anxious, I picked him up and asked him what had happened. “A boy pushed me” he said, not acting too disturbed by it. “Your nose!” I said and touched it gently to asses the damage, and then I asked him if he was hurt somewhere else, checking his hands & knees. He proudly held up his hands to me and said with a broad smile on his face “look mama, I didn’t catch myself with my hands! My hands are not hurt at all! I only caught myself with my nose!” Fantastic.

By Lovain

4 will become 5: we are expecting a pet

After a week of asking, begging, pleading and entreating, I’ve given in to getting the Husband & the boys a hamster. A man at my work announced that he had baby hamsters for sale, and I released this information at home, which resulted in a week of deliberation. This week has now come to an end, and I’ve decided to stop opposing. It’s mainly the Husband who has persisted, and seeing that he is a responsible adult, I’m certain he can take care of the little animal - with the boys’ help, of course.

The Husband will purchase a cage and food today. The hamster arrives on Thursday. Now all we need is a name. The boys have been discussing “Zorro” or “Avatar”. Any other suggestions?

By Lovain

Going on a diet: Atkins, Atkins, Atkins!

When I started working a year and a half ago, I began to comfort eat. I would eat whatever was convenient; croissants for breakfast, dürums for lunch, pizza/hamburger/big servings of pasta for dinner, and then cookies and other snacks in the evenings, often accompanied by beer or soda. I’ve finally decided to turn the trend around, but it’s a lot of work to shed the extra pounds; between 30 and 40 in total.

After a couple of days of Atkins, my body is starting to protest “WHERE ARE MY CARBS?!” I almost feel like I have the flu; headaches, a little nauseous, bloated and tired. They do warn you about this, and since I’ve gone through this diet before (3 years ago - a while after a birth) I know what to expect. If I can get through these next couple of days I’ll be on the road to happiness. Last time I lost a lot of weight in very little time, but I didn’t have to walk around hungry, and after the first week you do feel great. It’s not a diet I can live with for an extended amount of time; I simply love fruit & any dish involving potatoes too much, and I’m not much of a meat & fat fan (although I love a good steak), however it’s a good way to start off a general and improved diet. If I can loose the first 20 pounds within the next month, I’ll be very, very happy.

By Lovain

In the news: twins in Brazil born a year apart

This is pretty cool: Earlier this week, in Venda Nova, Brazil, twins were born naturally, not only on different days, but different years. Marcos was born at 23:59 on the 31st of December 2006, and his brother Mateus at 00:01 on the 1st of Januari 2007.

By Lovain

2006 in sum: bad & good things that happened to this American Swede in Leuven, Belgium

Here are a couple of lists to sum up the past year:

Good things 2006

*The start of my blog
*Our Sweden trip (see the August 2006 archive)
*Grey’s Anatomy & Prison Break (I'm a bit embarrassed to add these shows, but I got such immense pleasure out of watching them that I simply have to include them)
*Our trips to Aqualibi, Antwerp Zoo and the Museum of Natural Sciences
*My French improved curtesy of courses at work
*Events with Old & New friends; parties, BBQs, brunches, dinners, Thanksgiving, New Years
*Going to the movie theater to see "Walk the Line" with the Husband

Bad things 2006

*My former colleague T. The Dane died suddenly (see my post Wednesday, September 13, 2006)
*The Social Democrats lost the Swedish elections
*We lost our car (see my post Friday, September 15, 2006)
*I gained well over 15 Lbs or around 9 kgs (How did I let that happen?!)
*Our private economy (a family of 4 living on 1 tiny salary is difficult!)

By Lovain

My Belgian post-related experience: after 10 years here I can still be surprized!

On Wednesday the 20th of December, Taxipost (the package delivery service of the official post company here in Belgium) tried to deliver a package to us however we were not home, so they left an incomplete note in our neighbor’s mailbox. The note had options on it; “please call us for a new appointment”, “we’ll come by tomorrow again”, or “please pick up the package”, but nothing was filled out. Just a scribbled delivery number. First thing Thursday morning I called the number on the note, hoping to find out what we needed to do to get our package before Christmas, was put on hold for about 10 minutes, and finally got to talk to a nice lady who told me she could not help me and said I had to call the depot directly where the package was being detained. I called the number she gave me, and got, after a while, to talk to a not-so-nice lady who irritably took all my information and put me on hold, obviously punishing me for interrupting her tetris game. After a minute she was back informing me

“We will come Tuesday the 26th of December”.
“Tuesday?! Is it not possible earlier; today or tomorrow Friday?” I asked pleadingly.
“No, not possible” she said sternly “Tuesday”.
I had to try once more, however not very hopeful “Monday is Christmas Day, and the package contains my childrens' Christmas presents from their grandparents, so we would really appreciate it if you could deliver the package before Monday” I said, thinking I had at least tried.
“Saturday” she then said “we can come on Saturday”. Just out of the blue. What the…? What?!
“Oh, wonderful; Saturday” I said, wondering if I should push my luck and ask her why in the world she had not suggested this option earlier.
“OK, good b…” she started to conclude the call.
“Excuse me, but what time would you be here?” I intercepted, whereupon she proceeded to let me know that they would be there between the exact hours of 9 am and 3 pm. “Wonderful”.
“OK, good b…” she started with her now exceedingly irritated voice, so I intercepted again
“I wish you a wonderful holiday, mam, and a happy new year! All the best”.
“You too” she mumbled, and hung up.

Our package surpizingly arrived on Saturday morning. The boys got their presents from Grandma & Grandpa. Belgium can still amaze me.

By Lovain

My Christmas break is already over

After 1 week holiday, I’m back to work today, tired from not having readjusted my sleep pattern, and wondering where my Christmas week went.

The weekend before Christmas was hectic; Friday evening our Canadian friends threw a Christmas drink party which was nice but went late so the boys spent the entire next day in a grouchy state. We spent Saturdaythe 23rd of December in town along with 3 million other Belgians, trying to aquire wrapping paper. I had this crazy idea that we could just run in, get some wrapping paper and be back home within an hour. Silly me. It took closer to 4 hours and we ended up paying a fortune for paper that was ugly and of bad quality. Sunday afternoon – Christmas Eve - we could finally sit down to a nice Swedish Christmas meal with Mr. Speedo, the amazing M. & their children. The food was great, of course, and we had a nice time however all the kids were worked up and didn’t play well together; after dinner the Husband & I spent the evening wrapping presents, using our million-dollar wrapping paper. Christmas morning was great; the boys were so excited about the presents under the tree, and we took a long time opening them, enjoying the moment for as long as possible. We stayed in our pajamas most of the day; had turkey dinner, read, played and watched the new movie Santa Claus had brought “Monster House”. It was a calm and joyful Christmas Day.

We then spent the next couple of days inside, playing with all the new toys, going through the games, the paints, the crafts and the writing/counting exercises. We also got past halfway through the first “Little house on the prairie” book. Friday evening our friend R. put all the kids to sleep at Mr. Speedo & the amazing M.’s house while the four of us went to the movies and saw “The Departed”. After the movie we hung out and ate too much Mexican layered dip. The next morning we had pancake breakfast together and in the afternoon The Husband, I & the boys went over to our Canadian friends for drinks.

New Years Eve we had a group of friends over for a small New Years Eve party. We had lots of food, drinks, and the men had whiskey & cigars. After midnight we had chili and/or chili cheese dogs for good luck. The oldest one passed out with a fever around 9 pm and missed the whole thing, but the other kids stayed up lighting sparklers & toasted in virgin Champagne at midnight (along with the 2 pregnant women present). We unpregnant ones had real Champagne.

Yesterday we cleaned up the house (2 huge confetti canons will require you to do that) – the youngest one swept & I washed all the floors – and just hung out, ejoying the last day - and that was it; Christmas break 2006.

Happy New Year everyone!

By Lovain

Christmas Day morning 2006

By Lovain

Christmas shopping marathon

Yesterday my pregnant friend the amazing M. & I spent the entire day Christmas shopping. We bought food & drinks for a week, and all the Christmas presents. This took the entire day; frantic shopping interrupted now and then by my pregnant friend who either had to go to the bathroom or eat (or actually most of the time; both). At the end of the day we were both exhausted, but DONE. I’m ready for Christmas!

By Lovain

24 hour stomach flu

Sunday night, or rather Monday morning, at 2 am, I woke up because I felt sick. I went to the bathroom and threw up, cleaned myself up a bit, wondering where that one came from, and was trying to go back to sleep when the youngest one sat up in bed and threw up. This was the beginning of a violent 24 hour stomach episode involving both of us.

Today I’m back at work however still very reserved when it comes to food. Yesterday I had a couple of yogurts and fruits; this was all I could stomach, while the youngest one, 3 ½ years old, felt remarkably better and spent the day asking for food. (Children are amazing!) First I gave him a yogurt and told him to eat it slowly. He finished it and asked for more. I gave him dry toast, then toast with butter & jam, and then tea, apple, banana, grape fruit, noodles, more toast, more yogurt, rice with chicken, egg rolls and eventually he finished off the day with crackers & cheese; all generous portions. Those 3 lost pounds were quickly regained, I’m sure. Today he was as good as new, excited about the birthday party at Broekveld this afternoon. A boy in the oldest one’s class is turning 5 and the youngest one is invited as well; imagine his joy.

By Lovain

The most wonderful time of the year

This time of the year is my very favorite here in Leuven; the town is beautifully decorated with Christmas lights & banners, a live-sized Christmas crib on the main square, 2 huge Christmas trees around the main church and the town hall who’s windows are decorated with thousands of lights, a Christmas tree outside every store, beautiful window displays, not to mention the house decorations. Then, there’s the Christmas market. It’s only in town for less than a week, but all the little stands selling beautiful crafts, accompanied by food stands offering seasonal treats such as Bratwurst, Bacon kabobs, sugar pancakes and hot mulled wine, make my eyes tear from joy. There’s Christmas music coming from speakers, people are happy and children excited, and Santa Claus is there to listen to their whispers revealing their Christmas wishes. It's all beautiful!

By Lovain

Matching Mr. Speedo with my florescent vest

Since I take the boys to school through busy morning traffic every day, and the Belgian winter mornings are quite dark, in addition to putting extra lights on my bike & the kids’ cart, I’ve started wearing a florescent vest over my coat for safety. I’ve noticed other concerned parents carrying the same attire, and that it’s very visible. It makes me feel safer; however it’s not exactly beauty-enhancing. Mr. Speedo could certainly relate this morning when he saw me (see post from Monday, November 06, 2006 "My friend Mr. Speedo").

By Lovain

Christmas shopping dilemma: a privilege

All that my oldest son wants for Christmas is a Transformer, and not just any Transformer; he wants the Transformers Cybertron Leader - Optimus Prime, seen by him only on a collection poster acquired in Sweden about ½ year ago. (The mind & memory of a 5-year old is indeed amazing.) This fantastic toy is available - as far as we’ve managed to find out – on special order only from the US, the UK or Germany for about 95€ (cheaper via Amazon in the UK but then it wouldn’t make it here for Christmas). Seeing that we have very sparse finances this Christmas, this is an unaffordable prize.

The Husband is going into Brussels later this week to see if he can find it there, for less. If he is unsuccessful, I’m not sure what we’ll do. I try to put this whole matter into perspective: there are so many children out there that never have anything; neither food nor clothes, and therefore my son should be grateful - we should all be – for being able to celebrate Christmas at all. It should not matter that we can’t buy our children specific toys.

When I was little, my brother & I usually got the most amazing gifts for Christmas. My family was upper middle class; not poor, but not excessively rich either, and both parents came from economically underprivileged families, which meant we never received gifts outside an occasion. Then, however, we would often be privileged, and for Christmas in particular, Santa brought us gifts we had never even dreamt of asking for. I must have been about 9 when I received my very own new modern record-player with huge speakers to put in my room. The present I received from Santa was actually just a record, Peter Cetera’s “Glory of Love”, and at first I thought it was a joke, but then my father told me it actually came with stereo equipment and I didn’t believe him. Another year I got skies & boots; at the time a very expensive gift. I did not always expect the most fantastic gift, but my brother & I knew that our wish lists to Santa Claus would usually compare roughly to what we actually got. Except for one year; it was the year my mother spent the 2 weeks before Christmas at a women’s conference in Stockholm. I had asked for a Barbie bride and nothing else. I was only 5 years old but I knew it was more than doable for my parents. However, come Christmas, inspired by the 1970’s feminist idea “give boys dolls and girls toy cars” my mother had decided at the very last minute NOT to get me that Barbie, but a stuffed dog instead. I never particularly cared for dogs, and I hated that dog. Just thinking about it still puts a lump in my throat.

In sum; I understand that this is a privileged dilemma that I am struggling with, but I want my boys to enjoy Christmas as I did when I was little, and, if possible, avoid a stuffed dog trauma.

By Lovain

Lovain's Bad Friday

This morning my lunch fell out of the kids’ cart on our way to school, the brakes on the bike didn’t work because it was raining so I had to walk part of the way which meant I was late for work, and when I got to work I was SOAKED despite wearing my ridiculous looking rain-jacket & rain-pants! I’m so happy it’s Friday!

A new tool was launched at work today and my job was to make sure everybody made it onto the shuttle together, so to speak. I'm not responsible for the development of the tool; to do my work I simply had to assume its working. The reason I have a minute to write this blog entry is that NOTHING is currently working, not even our phone lines. Somebody is working on the problem, somewhere, and eventually things will start to pick up, but in the meantime, all we can do is wait (and let the company loose money). We’re in the middle of the tornado, so to speak. Did I mention I’m happy it’s Friday?

By Lovain

"Where are you from?" - difficult question at the Sinterklaas party

On Saturday we attended the annual International Contact Club’s Sinterklaas party.

The Sinterklaas legend is as follows: Once upon a time there was a severe famine, during which a poor man, a father of three children, was unable to provide enough food to support his family. In a moment of despair the poor father abandoned his children in the woods. Sinterklaas (Saint Nicholas), a holy man, passed by and returned the children safely home after having given them plenty of food. Because of this legend, Sinterklaas is considered a friend and benefactor of children, and comes to offer them presents on December 6, the day of Saint Nicholas. Sinterklaas is accompanied by his helper “Zwarte Piet” (black Peter), a colored boy.

Sinterklaas came to the party & sat, surrounded by his helpers, on a throne, and all the children lined up to greet him, sit on his lap, have their picture taken by excited parents, and receive their gifts. When it was the boys turn, one of the helpers asked them what she had asked all the other children “What are your names?” the boys said their names, “How old are you?” the boys told her their ages, “Where are you from?” the boys went silent. I knew they probably couldn’t answer. Most of the other children attending the party are in Leuven temporarily, are usually not born in Belgium, and have a precise country of origin. The boys are born in Belgium where they’ve spent their entire lives so far, but they have an American father and a Swedish mother, and they will, within a couple of years, move to a different country; Sweden or The United States or anywhere else work might take their parents. Where are they from?

By Lovain

Our non-religious catholic life in Leuven

In theory, the Husband & I don’t practice any religion. In practice, our life is strongly influenced by the catholic faith; most of our closest friends are catholic, and the Husband’s promoter is a catholic priest. I could not imagine having celebrated Thanksgiving with our substitute family here in Belgium, The amazing M. & Mr. Speedo and their children, without prayer and grace. We enjoy the live-sized Christmas crib on the main square in town every December and tell our children the stories of Jesus. We honor the traditions of lent and Easter, and when our friends get married and have children, we pray in church with them.

Most people, I imagine, have a reverse situation, this is at least my impression here in Belgium. People claim that they are believers of God and strong in their faith, but they do not practice it accordingly. Belgium is a catholic country and in some sense you notice, however it’s still striking how little it’s visible; surprisingly few people go to church on Sundays for example. During Christmas however, the whole city of Leuven is transformed, and the live-sized Christmas crib on the main square next to the church constitutes the centerpiece of the celebration. When baby Jesus is placed in his crib on Christmas Day, we enjoy seeing him along with all the other Belgians, celebrating faith.

By Lovain

Advent and anticipation

This morning the boys let out a shriek of joy when they found their advent calendars on the wall in the living room, each covered with 24 little presents; one gift to open every morning until Christmas. It was a joy to hear & see them enjoy this tradition that was started by my grandmother a long time ago. She had sown us calendars with little hooks on, and on the morning of December 1st every year, we would wake up and find the calendar on our wall full of presents hanging on the hooks. They were small, simple things, like scented erasers or a piece of candy. In retrospective I realize that it was not really about the presents. What I enjoyed was waking up knowing that we were anticipating Christmas. Once Christmas Eve came with Santa Claus & all our big presents, the magic was not as intense any more. I always did enjoy the prelude; I still do.

Every night this week I’ve told the boys the story about how baby Jesus was born; the stable, the star, the Shepards, and then I sing them a couple of Christmas songs about the event. I know they also talk about this in school but the boys have been so focused on Santa Claus, the Christmas tree and PRESENTS this week that I wanted to add a bit of nuance. I’ve tried to emphasize the generosity, serenity and magic element of Christmas, and I have great hopes that this message will get through to them by the time Santa comes. I want them to enjoy the anticipation and magic this season offers, as I’ve always done.

By Lovain

Jogging alone on deserted roads a dark evening

I just read an article on a Belgian website about a rape that happened right in the center of Leuven this week last year. A student was on her way home one evening when a man pulled her into a large parking garage, threatened her with a knife and raped her. This incident took place about 200 yards from our old apartment. They never caught the guy.

While I enjoy the jogging, I don’t like to be out alone on the dark, deserted biking/jogging paths in the evenings. I still do it; but even though we live in a nice neighborhood, I’m always a bit scared. I’m a big and strong woman; I know how to run fast, and I know how to fight; should somebody attack me I would be able to get away or at least put up a significant resistance. If I’m nearing the end of my run, however, I’ll be absolutely exhausted, and quite vulnerable, run-wise and fight-wise, which is worrisome. I wonder if it’s illegal in this country to carry around a knife. I wonder how other women deal with this fear. Certainly I can’t be the only one.

By Lovain

Holding diarrhea

Last night as we were walking home from the store, the youngest one signalled that he had gone “a little bit diarrhea in his underwear.” Unexpected, but seeing that he’s a young boy, not entirely foreign.

“Are you OK?” I asked.
“Yes but I have to go diarrhea AGAIN!” he urged.
“We’re almost home, youngest one. Try to hold it. Just hold it.” I told him, whereupon he grabbed his behind with his hand and held onto it.
“No, not with your hand.” I said with an obvious tone. The youngest one looked up at me with a surprised face, almost shocked.
“Wh… Wha… With WHAT then?!”

By Lovain