random thoughts…

My five year old is sitting at the kitchen table behind me, putting together a Lego project intended for a kid twice his age.  And singing “Highway to Hell” at the same time.  I’m not sure if I should brag or not.

I’ve had a crappy yoga practice two days in a row.  Yesterday, just as my power yoga practice was starting to build intensity, my Ipod ran out of juice.  Did you know you’re supposed to charge them?  Huh.  I didn’t.  Then today a DVD I’d ordered arrived, and I eagerly put it in as soon as Harry went up for his nap.  It was ludicrous.  At about 45 minutes in, when the demonstrator literally started humping the floor, and the narrator started going on about how this was cleansing toxins from her body, I had to turn it off.

The five year old is now playing under my desk, and has just told me that my feet are like caveman feet.  I think I need to vacuum.  And maybe mop.

I have a to-do list a mile long.  It’s getting longer while I sit here and play with my blog.

The new picture in the header is of me and my two boys on the shores of a small loch in Scotland last year.  We’re going back in ten days.  None of us can wait.  We go up at least once, often twice a year.  It’s our second home.

I don’t want to step on the scale tomorrow.  Because despite working out daily, my husband and I have also been *celebrating* his long weekend — with dinner out and copious amounts of wine.

Sigh… can’t procrastinate any longer.  Time to whittle that to-do list down from a mile long to just a kilometer.  After all, we are in Europe.

you capture — you

I’ve been meaning to participate in You Capture for the last few weeks.  This week’s challenge, a self-portrait, I very nearly blew off.  I occasionally take good snapshots of my kids, or flowers, but I’m no artist.  And trust me, I am NOT a photographer’s dream.  I have a cheesy camera smile.  I blink all the time.  I have bags under my eyes that no amount of coverup can … cover up.  And, well, to be blunt, at 37 I’m still not comfortable in my own skin.  But then I see that everyone else participated, and I started to feel a little bit like a chicken.

You would think that as the daughter of a photographer I would understand that I have to look at the camera, wouldn’t you?  Despite that, this picture has probably the most *real me* quality to it — not a fake, too-wide smile, etc.

Too bright, I know, but it gives me giggles that you can see my collar bones if you squint.  By the way, I hate wearing purple.  My mother-in-law sent this to me and I feel kind of obligated to wear it.  I just finished working out.  I’m sweaty, and I may not have brushed my hair this morning.  The real me.

Me and my personal trainer, Harry.  Who totally slacked off and slept til 7 this morning.

I must admit, that was not as painful as I thought it would be.

gather round, class

I think I’m happy with the look and the layout of the blog.  For now.  I wish the font was a little bigger, but I can probably find where to change that.  And most of you probably aren’t half-blind like me, so it’s probably not much of an issue.  I like the colors — fresh, crisp, healthy-looking!  Don’t they make you want to eat a salad, or have a smoothie instead of a bowl of ice cream?!  Well, that’s how they make me feel, anyway.

So, what’s with all the French, you ask?  Well, the longer I live here, the better my French is getting.  I’m finally getting to the point that I sometimes think in French, rather than in English.  Not deep, philosophical things.  But giving directions, reciting phone numbers, simple Q&A sessions… I find myself thinking in French first, then having to double-back for the English.  It’s pretty cool.  I’m in the French zone, if you will.  So, while playing around with the theme, I thought I’d bring a little of my French into play.

The few smatterings of French you’ll find here:

• Moi, mais en mieux.  Basically, that means “me, only better.”  Because no other titles I came up with looked/sounded right once put to page.
• Entraînement = training, ie. that’s where my workout log will go.
• Le régime = the plan, the blueprint that’s going to take me from fluffy to fit.
• Les mesures = the terrible, horrible, scary truth of numbers in black and white — weight and inches.
• Je lis = I read.
• J’écris = I write.
• Autrefois = in the past.

I hope you like it!

babbling

Still alive, still on track.  I’m getting over a nasty bug that laid me low for a couple of days.  Still have not resumed exercising, but am functioning normally again, so will get back on track with my workouts tomorrow.

I’ve been playing around with the design around here.  Expect more changes to come.  I love WordPress, and I love *free*, but I’m a little annoyed that I can’t load my own theme.  Trying to remember what annoyed be so much about Blogger that I decided to move…

our new bathtub

Ready for it?

As excited as I am?

Here you go!!!

OK, so technically we do have a bath upstairs now, we are not allowed to use it. I KNOW! Trust me, I KNOW. It’s only the shell of a tub. We have to wait four to six weeks for the casing and the shower door to come in. We have to wait a few days to use even the shell of the tub, because the cement is still setting. Apparently, tub installation is done much differently here than in the states. Who knew? Not us, apparently. If I’d known, I sure as hell wouldn’t have planned to have a new tub/shower installed during the summer.

Yes, I know. Short, chubby women should not wear capris. You don’t have to lecture me. But it’s in the 80s, and muggy 80s at that. And I haven’t shaved my legs in over a week. And THAT, above, is the closest I’ve gotten to a bath since last Friday. AND I’ve given up wine for this week.

….only twenty-four hours to go…

Home Improvement

I’ve been wanting, pleading, begging for a new bath and shower since we moved into our house a little more than a year ago. Can you imagine living in a house without a shower? Me neither. Oh, one more thing. The bathroom is pink. PINK. Not little pink accents, not pink curtains. P.I.N.K. Pink. The sink, the toilet, the tub, the tile. When we first moved in, the mirror, the shelf under the sink, the toilet paper holder, the soap dishes — PINK. And plastic to boot. Oh, the floor tiles are a shade of pink as well.

I’m not a pink girl. My husband and two boys are not pink men. We quickly replaced the accessories. But the rest we’ve had to live with. A couple months ago, we finally decided to invest the money into replacing the bath with a bath/shower combo, in refreshing WHITE. Something to lighten the overwhelming pinkness of it all. We’ll slowly and methodically replace the other major fixtures as time goes by.

So, my bathtub two days ago, when I was giving my littlest a bath. Because, really, how exciting is a picture of a tub?

My bathtub today:

Yeah.

My husband’s eye is completely twitching right now. Apparently, the tub is the wrong dimensions for the area. We’re not sure how that happened, as we measured meticulously, and we took the measurements to the store with us when ordering the tub, AND the contractor was out and did a survey of the site, knowing what we were putting in. We have an appointment with the contractor and the store TUESDAY to ORDER a new tub that will fit.

Oh, one more thing. It’s almost July. The height of summer is still to come. And we’re going to be washing up in the sink for at least a few weeks would be my guess.

Yeah.

Twitching.

for you, team BLUE

Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.

Do you see? Do you see what I’ve done for you? Yes, you – Heather, Anita, Ann, Thea, and Mel! I’ve overhauled my blog to show my support of our team. I, Karena, who am actually much more of an earth-tone-leaning-toward-red kind of girl. I went blue for you! And I quoted from a sappy old movie that my son just happens to be watching for the first time. For you.

I could break out into a cheer or two if it’s necessary. I was a cheerleader in high school. But I think it would be rather sad to see a nearing-40 year old woman, 30ish pounds overweight, try to relive her high school un-glory days. So please don’t make me do it.

Let’s give it our all this week. Be active. Stick to your workout schedule. Don’t be tempted by the cookies you make for your kids. Don’t stop at Burger King on your way home because you’re too tired to cook. I’m going to be rock solid this week. And if I can do it in Belgium — the land of superb chocolate, and the original french fries (frites), and super-good and super-cheap wine and beer — then you can too!

You’ve got a dream. I do too. Let’s do what we can to achieve them together.

stretched

Remember when Bilbo said “I feel…thin. Sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread?” I can SO relate to that right now. Well, not the thin part. But the feeling of being unable to cover everything you’re supposed to be covering.

I’m having trouble balancing and prioritizing my ever-growing to-do list. There are so many things I really want to accomplish. But, because there are so many, I don’t even know where to begin. And so nothing gets accomplished.

In between the cooking, cleaning, being a mom, being a wife, cuddling, reading to little boys, blogging, and all the other necessities of life, here’s a list of the major things I’d like to do:

1. Perfect my French so I can carry on real conversations. Like chewing out the plumber that keeps putting off coming and installing our new shower.
2. Learn Latin before I need to start teaching it to my son in three years.
3. Get organized with the homeschooling thing. Figure out a way to give my Lego-loving, problem-solving boy the classical education we want without breaking his spirit.
4. Lose about thirty pounds and be fit.
5. Actually read our collection of Great Books. Or at least start them.
6. Learn how to sew. Not make simple curtains, which I did just last week. But really sew.

When I write it down, it doesn’t look like all that much. But I’ve been planning to do these things for years now. So why are they all still on my to-do list?

I used to think maybe I was just lazy. Or a procrastinator. And there are times that those terms apply. But really I think that it is more a matter of organization. And perhaps biting off more than I can chew. I’ve seen some blogs that have a 101 in 1001 section. Perhaps I should try breaking these goals out into manageable, measurable steps and making my own list.

nature

My first You Capture post. I’m so excited. And intimidated. There are some very artistic people that participate in this, and I’m more of a point-and-click kinda girl.

This week’s theme is nature.

I’m pretty sure that’s a European Peacock Butterfly. It’s kind of difficult to tell, as it’s upside down. But I love how it looks as though it’s perched on one of the tree branch shadows. And how aged the bricks in the garden wall look, and how lichen-covered they are. Like nature is taking back lost ground.

beauty and the beast

(cross-posted from my home blog)

The Beauty — some roses from my garden. Trust me, I am NO gardener. Yet they just keep coming.

The Beast — Harry found Liam’s forgotten pot of yogurt.

Boys will be boys, eh?