N the godmother

A godchild is a child that God sends you to cheer you up because you can’t have kids of your own. At least, that’s my very own theory.
Yesterday, I had a fantastic day with A, my little bundle of mischief. For his sixth birthday, I had planned a fun day in Brussels:
- eating hamburgers and fries in a restaurant where painted monsters are watching you from every wall
- imagining the exciting lives of the ducks at the ponds (according to A, the fountain in the ponds was nothing more than the ducks’ shower)
- going wild in the playground (and in the trees surrounding the playground)
- discovering – cooking – making art in the Children’s Museum,
- playing hide and seek with godmother in the middle of the city,
- and eating huge pieces of apple pie.
Then it was time for A and his mom to go home. They jumped in dad’s car, and the little family of three drove off to their house in the suburbs. Me, I walked home through the streets of this city, feeling very alone, feeling I’ll never be the proud mom taking the pictures, but always the crazy godmother trying to only step on the white lines of the crosswalk, and hiding behind trash cans on Avenue Louise.

Just a peek...

Last week our wedding pictures were ready. This one is one of my favourites. It's taken through the glass wall of a bus cabin - giving the picture a timeless look. And making P and myself just unrecognisable enough to post it here, on the blog :-).

Fever

Hi everyone. Today I'm writing in an horizontal position (don't get any wild ideas). I'm just flat out on the couch, throat-spray, painkillers and cup of tea within reach. That's right, after facing sneezing students for the past 3 months, my imune-system finally gave in.
Being sick always reminds me of Barbizon, where I was the lovely hostess of several viruses during my first couple of months in the countryside (remember?). My memory goes straight back to our cosy flat above the art galery, where I re-read every single Harry Potter, all covered up in blankets, and in the loving company of Phoebe the hamster. Making quick trips across the street for croissant aux amandes from the bakery, or for home-made lasagna from the deli. And taking loads of medicine. So you see, I do miss France from time to time - even if it's triggered by such things as having a fever...(wait, maybe I'm just delirious?)

It takes two

I want a baby.
No need to be ashamed of it, and no need to make a big thing out of it. It’s normal, lots of people want babies, and it doesn’t make me some kind of freak.
Sorry, I had to write that down once, just to keep my sanity. ‘Cause here at home, I can’t talk about it. It’s the big “taboo”. It’s only my wish, and nobody else’s.
My hormones have been screaming “Reproduce!” for the past five years now, and believe me: ignoring them is getting harder and harder. Also, at 33, I mustn’t kid myself (no pun intended) : the clock is ticking. I look at fertility charts taking a deep plunge after 35. While the charts with all sorts of “complications” go up-up-up around the same age.
P and I have always been on different timelines. I wanted to live together – I had to wait (years). I wanted to get married – I had to wait (years). The problem with the baby-issue is that “waiting” is becoming less and less of an option. I don’t want to calculate, take hormone treatments, visit fertility clinics, take high risks for my baby (and myself), etc. I just want nature to take its course and do its thing – sooner or later. But I can want a lot of things. It still takes two to tango, as we clearly saw in Buenos Aires.

Shuffle

Is my iPod psychic? I believe he is (yes, my iPod is male)
Today, ironing my frustrations away, I put the little pink guy on shuffle, and this is what he came up with:
1. All that she wants, is (another) baby
2. Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements?
3. I want to make up right now, nana
4. The boy does nothing
5. Destination unknown.
By that time, I thought it was really getting too weird, so I just switched to City Owls and their cute Fireflies.

The secret N Files

Lately, I often regret that this blog is not anonymous anymore. There’s so much I want to write about, so many things I want to get of my chest. But at the same time, I don’t want everybody to know. So what to do?
For the first time, I'm actually thinking about stopping the blog altogether. It’s not really helping me anymore in anyway.
My mom: is still ill – but who wants to read about cancer, right?
My job: I am still enjoying it, so not much to write about either.
INSEAD : long time ago
P : still the typical consultant, working ridiculous hours
So there, my life in a nutshell.
I have a few wonderful friends who are always there for me, and whom I can trust. And I still feel lonely as hell from time to time. Cause believe me, a dream you can’t share with anyone is nothing more than a real nightmare.

Catch me if you can

I wrote a page-long post today, then erased it all. It was just a bit too gloomy and sad - while I wanted to end the day on a happy note.
So if you, just like me, are feeling a bit down, then maybe this will do the trick.

CATCH THAT SMILE
Smiling is infectious, you catch it like the flu.
When someone smiled at me today, I started smiling too!
I passed around the corner and someone saw my grin.
When he smiled, I realized I'd passed it on to him!
I thought about that smile and appreciated its worth.
A single smile, just like mine, could travel round the earth!
So if you feel a smile begin, don't leave it undetected.
Let's start an epidemic quick, and get the world infected!