Puste Blumen

Because we loved and enjoyed our first born so much, I wished for many more little ones (I remember exclaiming to my mother " I could love ten of these!"). Robert was not quite that enthusiastic, he thought two would be a very good number.

beginning of April 1995

Now I joke that I wanted a girl so much that I got two, or I say that my miscarriages wanted to come together (depending on my mood)- in any case, 15 months after our wonderful Thijs arrived, we welcomed first Vera and 11 minutes later Emma to our family on April 20, 1995.

Emma & Vera

Words will fail to describe the happiness - They were almost term, healthy, and sizable babies, who were kicked out of the warming unit that the hospital had at the ready (see above) to make way for a more deserving little one.

Emma & Vera

Over the years, they have been best friends, best enemies. Thijs had to play 'divide and conquer'. 

Emma & Vera

And 19 times we celebrated their birthday together. Tomorrow, they turn 20 years old, and it will be the first time they are not celebrating together, or celebrating with Thijs and us. I'd like to think that this is a natural result of our trying to raise strong, independent people. 

Emma

Vera

Words fail me now too. I am happy, I miss them so much, I am happy. You go girls!

spring break in St. Augustine, senior year of high school 

it's my birthday (soon) and

... I'll just cry a little, but not about being a year older. ;-) Or even the fact that I am turning 50 years young/old, whatever. It's a number that we humans have attached some significance to, however it remains just a number.

wedding day

I am very thankful though, to my parents, who brought me to life, who loved me unconditionally, who supported me even when I made decisions that hurt them (moving to another continent with their grandchildren is only one of them), and who taught me by example about values and morals and most importantly love.

Of course, this particular birthday brings on lots of reflection, more than usual perhaps. So the no-regrets thing? Yeah, of course, I'm human, so plenty of regrets over the years. But none about some of the most important ones: marrying my true love and having our amazing children.

Both Vera and Emma recently asked for pictures of me and my love when we were younger. Timely, for inciting another layer of reflection: who were these kids, and what happened since?

I can only conclude that I am a lucky girl. A privileged girl. Even though not exactly born into riches or any silver spoons. Neither were our kids, initially. Many people and opportunities in my life though that are enriching in ways more meaningful.

Such as meetings more than a lifetime ago that made me walk my professional path with 'my peeps', families with children who have developmental disabilities. I met a little girl named Maria, a sweet smiling boy named Bart, a rambunctious boy named Benjamin, and many more, and I fell in love over and over again. Blessings to me.

I would really not like to be younger again, although I would love for my body to feel younger. I am much better off now that I don't care so much what people think of me. It is more about things happening outside of me now, in the world (though I remain an introvert).

One of my wishes for the future is, that my love and I will continue our conversation - with each other, and together with the world. And that I can be myself, the same, no matter what my outside may look like.

domesticated

I guess I am- enjoying the small things around home and yard. Even when (as is public knowledge by now) I'm no big fan of our current home-state. After so many years, there are some things tying me down, just a bit.

Cats, for one thing. Of course, we have moved with cats before (even moved our Spoenk from one continent to another), but this seems such a nice place for them to roam with no busy streets nearby.

And Mila, my Mila, who is no longer my Mila but did show up this morning, slipped in, and refused to leave. I had to put her outside this evening, and that broke my heart a little, she looked at me ...(and I interpreted) ...hurt, incredulous...

As I drove to work this morning, I was a bit angry, for the first time, at those nice people who welcomed her in their home. Which marked her a stranger in our home. The other cats were on high alert for 'intruder', and tails were puffed, hisses and growls were emitted.

And I had to deny 'my own cat' entry to the house. Sigh. But she made her choice. Although she seems oblivious, because after all, she is a  cat, although domesticated.

I am a little stubborn sometimes, and often foolishly so. Thus I resist books or TV series everyone is raving about, based on stubborn foolish principle, and as it turns out, when I do give in, it appears that I was wrong not to join in. One such book, which I now am going to recommend, is "All the light we cannot see" by Anthony Doerr. READ IT!

How's that for a disjointed blog post? Well, that's just how things are at the moment, in my head and of course in life, where best laid plans often remain just that, plans. Like my plans to tuck in early, which I have nearly every night and which never come to fruition. Ever.

I never

wanted to be that person...the one with the ailments and complaints about hurting and too heavy body parts and a pill regimen that requires serious management. I optimistically (and against my nature) thought that I could simply will myself to be - not this person. Haha. Thoughts like that resemble the teenage invincible recklessness.

Nor was I planning on becoming the workaholic I turned into this past week. My love was on the other side of the planet, that had something to do with it of course. Nobody and nothing (I'm salaried now) to set a time limit on the work day (although with the modern technology at my fingertips I can work at home and yes that happened too).

Nothing like signs of spring to make me poke my head out the door and above ground and take a pause- to spend some time in the moment. Listening to the chirping and hawking and chuck-chucking outside. Take a breath, feel the still chilly breeze with a tiny promise of open windows and billowing curtains.

Even Homer was willing to check out the situation- although looking slightly annoyed in the picture (he's the ginger on the left, his ears indicate his mood). I'm trying not to complain. But my back (right side to be specific) hurts like the dickens most of the time, making the non-complaining increasingly difficult. I could go to the doctor of course, but I'm not ready for what I may be told, so I don't, for now. More sticking my head in the sand- and a great learning moment to reflect on: if I am having this much difficulty acknowledging my disease, which is not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things- then I should imagine how much courage it takes the families I am working with to face the facts. And I never want to be the person to dismiss that.

reason

number umpteen-and-a-half why I may fit in the Pacific Northwest : I enjoy a good moody day.

Last week's snow vaporized in warmer temperatures with even more encouragement from rain and drizzle. I'll say that I enjoyed it mostly from the relative safety of the car (there and back home again from work) and took the pictures from the doorway, but still.

Plus I can't decide between ocean and mountains, contemplating this over a good strong cup of dark roasted bold coffee....(there really is nothing to contemplate because there is no move imminent- but one can dream/contemplate).

And, it sort of fits my mood, at least for the past couple days, while I process some less positive news in between messages of celebrations. Life- I should not have been so optimistic as to allow the thought that this year appeared to be the year for good news all around.

And I love pine trees, all types, so there is that. Totally useless contemplations, I am aware (wait, that is NOT the plural of contemplation? ). Enough of this procrastination tactic- I need to move, as in exercise. All the sitting around (okay that sounds like we're lollygagging at work, which is definitely not the case) is starting to not feel so good.

I'm not sure

...what I could/should share today. I am sure about what I would like to share but can't. How cryptic can I get?

 I can't share anything about my job, although it occupies my mind quite a bit. What it boils down to is this:  I am in awe of the team  I get to work with, and about the work I want to share a quote from 'Being a social worker means' ~ You will never cease to be amazed at people's capacity for love, courage, and endurance.

Today is obviously a snowy day- it's peaceful to look at, because we are not buried under six or more feet like other parts of the country. And when I went to assess whether or not to shovel the driveway, I found that someone had done that for us! Must have been either a mistake or a random act of kindness. I prefer of course the latter although the result is the same.

As usual, the week flew by and all of a sudden it is weekend and the laundry has piled up (as well as the ironing) and not much else has been done either in terms of house hold chores. Apart from that, I am trying to relax and tend to my many hobbies, only to be hampered by four cats who suffer cabin-fever and thus will do anything to get my attention (like attack the clothes I am folding, sit on the shirts I am ironing, of course lie on the quilt while I try to sew).

It is really a lot like having toddlers. All week I have slept only in about 2 hour increments due to my sweet Charlie waking me 'singing' that he wants out, or cuddles, or out again (which I can't allow in subzero temperatures). And when I did let him and Gus out, like this morning - temps were not all that bad, I checked first- I set an alarm to let them back in after 1 or 2 hours.

That might seem a tad too dedicated to my furry babies, but it is nothing, really nothing, and pales to snow white in comparison to what I am experiencing at work.

adjusting

In the series 'where is Vera when you need her', I am posting some pictures that definitely did not turn out the way I had envisioned, because of my complete lack of understanding of photography. I take pictures like I do many things in life - without reading the manual (or caring about it).

Beautiful skies last night. But really hard to capture...

In my new job, being flexible and adaptable is key, since we are designing, adjusting, learning, making mistakes, tweaking, discussing, reading, doing, learning some more, changing some more, etc as we go. I love it, especially that we are writing the manual  on the fly but at a very high and academic level of precision.

I love the winter silhouettes of the trees against any sky.

At home I am trying to find some downtime to process and relax, but I find the evenings quite short (home late, cooking from scratch, fitting in exercising) (fun fact: I always have to use spell check to correct the spelling of exercising, always, of course that is my unconscious messing it up since I dislike the verb so much) - anyway, not that I want to complain, just similar to what everyone else feels, that there is not enough time.

Not enough time, but luckily I do feel that my work matters. I'm going to close this post with a not at all (just a little bit) random picture, close up of a selfie (I edited my brother and sister-in-law out of it, not that I don't love them, but ... got to go for the cutest family member) of my sweet niece Lisa. I miss you, and your cousin too!