Sssshhhttt!

Debate about to set stricter rules for selling alcoholic drinks has been blazed by a proposal of the national director of communities health services (GGD Nederland). He proposed to raise the minimum age to buy alcohol from 16 to 18 years and to forbid the supermarkets to stunt with prizes of alcoholic drinks. Although there is a real problem with drinking young people I doubt if higher prizes and age limits will solve this. As long as alcohol will be associated with a tough image or the idea that partying is no fun without being totally pissed the problem will remain. Personally I don’t mind if people want to get drunk if they don’t affect me.  The latter is almost impossible because drunk people have little sense of their own behavior. That is obviously noticeable during weekends in my street when people pass through in the middle of the night, returning from their parties. Shouting, screaming, cursing, stumbling over their own legs, acting absolutely ridiculous. I observed it many times because the screaming and shouting sometimes sounds alarming, as if people are about to be killed and disturb my night anyway. I have heard boys desperately screaming to each other about loving each other and demanding why the other one does not see that. Well, I would not see it either if someone shouted it to me in a state like that because, although drunks (and little children) seem to speak the truth, next morning they have forgotten everything. One time, in Winter, when the streets were frozen,  I saw a drunk girl performing the scene of Bambi on ice in a very bad way, and I have as little respect for her as for another drunk girl who cried her eyes out under a lamppost  while screaming she wanted to die because of “that bastard”. See, that is the real image of too much alcohol: behaving ridiculous. Who would respect the party pooper who vomits on your  furniture or doorstep? Or drinks enough to get in a coma?

Again, I don’t mind as long as they won’t disturb me with it. But it is the noise they make that is really annoying. Last night at 3:00 AM I was woken again by a group of loud screaming people. The trouble is that my bedroom is at the street side of the house. I could change rooms with my study which is facing the backyard but the neighbor kid sometimes starts jumping his trampoline with a sleepover friend at 6:30 AM making terrible noise. Nuisance is a real stressor. Especially in times of exams. It is hard enough to read about depression and other disorders without interruptions. Because of the good weather even my escape zone at the lake is crowded with noisy people. That is when you realize Holland is really small, too small actually. I am longing for a distant place to live, in the middle of the woods or even a dessert seems appealing (as long as there is climate control and a swimming pool). I feel grumpy and exhausted and although I normally love sunny weather, I wish it could rain now so much that it would chase everybody back in their closed houses, like how it is most of the time here.

However, realizing that I feel zero tolerance about almost everything these days, there has been a general shift lately about making shameless noisiness. I have read an article online about teaching silence (http://toineandernach.blogspot.com/2012/04/stilte.html) in classrooms but I had experienced it already during lectures in college that people think it is normal to continue their conversations and even their phone calls when the professor in front of the room can hardly make himself audible. In a room filled with 500 students the constant buzzing is very disturbing but it is also very disrespectful. These lectures are not even mandatory!

While elaborating some more about noises and their effects on my mood the public maintenance service men start their motorized weed trimmers with blazing sounds. Could they not have stuck to their muscle driven hoe?  Hello darkness, my old friend I've come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping. Left its seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains within the sound of silence. No matter how rare that is these days and despite weeding. . 

Hide and seek

It feels like I accidentally stepped into the wrong train, where I was having a very bumpy ride, barely hearing the announcement  “Welcome to Rockbottom” before I stumbled out and fell flat on my face. Last  few months events had made me own up to some hard truths about myself. It all started with the bachelor-project I was assigned to. I am in it with two other students and neither of us all would have chosen this topic if we would have had a choice. Unlike them my motto is think big and aim high and I dived deep into the subject. But after many endless meetings with a supervisor who is not great in answering her e-mail I am trudging towards the deadline for the paper without any hopes left of a high mark. A project like this, next to upcoming exams does not leave much room to live. However, I forced myself to stay put until the end of June I didn’t expect life was planning a couple of other lessons to be taught. The first lesson came from the Minister of finance. With a tax bill twice as high as my advisor had predicted he taught me I should better find myself some more clients, instead of focusing on a subject like language processing, which is very far from my own field of interest.  Second, I should not rely on advice. No, that last bit is not true. Only I should check an advice, before relying to it. That is exactly how I dealt with a bit more of a personal problem, my mom’s health. Last month she has been hospitalized twice and I am fully entitled to feel confused when even a doctor needs to ask advice from his colleagues. Even though she is getting better now there are still some unexplained troublesome matters going on which I simply cannot ignore. Yes, I could ignore them as long as I was buried in study-matters but not at the times I received her message being in the hospital again of course. Luckily my aunt stepped in and accompanied my mom to her doctor’s appointment.

After feeling cranky for four weeks now I am ready to admit that I have a tendency to shovel too much on my shoulders. Although, I am still not fully aware of what I put on my sore shoulders, before things collapse. A little more than a week ago I learnt that the father of my kids was having his backyard done. He was ready to get rid of the two rabbits living there in their big kennels. One of the workmen knew someone who might want to take them. It felt wrong to me. The oldest, a ten year old small rabbit was a remaining of the time we were all a happy family and the biggest, a five year old ‘kill-and-attack-rabbit’ was my mistake. Before that rabbit turned out to be grumpy, growling and mean, it was a sweet little baby rabbit. However, as soon as we did not dare to put our hands in the cage to feed it anymore, I could dump it in his backyard. He had another kennel so the second rabbit I had bought a year after the mean one was moving from inside the house to the kennel in my backyard. This rabbit was the sweetest, cutest rabbit we ever had and I fenced the terrace so it could have more space.

It acted more like a little doggy than being rabbit like. Every time we opened the backdoor he jumped out of his open plan kennel to greet us. He was very happy to be cuddled and every time I left the backyard to go somewhere by bike, he used to sit behind the fence, watching me go, like a doggy, really. Everybody loved this drop-eared fluffy cutie. I think it was partly because all the space he had that he was so happy and friendly. That same space made me say to give the other rabbits to me instead to some stranger who might want to eat them.

It was a heavy job moving the other kennels to my backyard but all I had to do about it, thanks to my sore shoulder, was driving the van I borrowed and giving directions of where to put it. All of a sudden the space of the terrace was not so big anymore. Our own rabbit was curious with all what was going on but his first encounter through the fences was greeted very unfriendly by the new habitants. We decided it was best to let them out one at a time to prevent nasty rabbit fights. After a couple of days they seemed to get along a little more since cutie could enter the fence of the others without being torn apart. It was funny that cutie had found a whole in the fence of the other’s outer part. Although, separated by another fencing he was visiting the big one really close. I thought it would only take a little more time before they would become real friends with each other. Until big one found another whole, and stuck its head through it, growling like a mad rabbit to the cute one. I put a piece of hardboard between it, so they could not touch each other.

Thursday night when I was cleaning the kennel of big one I thought the cute one was a little lazy, curled up in the neighboring rabbit-run. He responded when I approached him with my hand but only to turn around and restart snoozing. He did not touch his fresh food and I wondered if he had been falling in love or something. We put him in his own kennel for the night where he ate a little and remained a little awkward. The next morning I found him at the same spot where we left him and when I called him he came to me real slow and seemed to lump a little. I called the vet and the receptionist told me we could come to see the vet at 11:15 a.m. It was only 10:00 a.m. and I asked if it could be sooner because I was really worried that it might be too late. She agreed on bringing him in now and then the vet would take a look at him between other appointments. We brought him and as soon as we were home my cellphone rang. It was the vet. She examined the rabbit and suspected a bad infection of e-coli. This is an one-cell organism which lives latent in the intestines of men and animal only to be activated in times of stress. She thought he would have little chance of surviving and advised to put him to sleep. I almost begged her to do not that and do whatever she could before jumping back in the car to get there. She said she would make preparations for an infusion already but also that the other rabbits might be in danger. We emptied two card-boxes and put the other rabbits in it. Just before we were ready to go there my phone rang again. It was the vet. She said she was very sorry but the rabbit died.

We went there anyhow, to have the other rabbits examined and to collect the dead body of the cute one to bury in the backyard but it was very hard to stop the tears. Now we have to nurse the other two rabbits. They need to have a daily dose of medicine for at least 28 days, to prevent them from having the same disease and the smallest also needs ointment in both his eyes, twice a day. I wonder if  life is teaching me to change some behavior while I hear constantly the first lines of “Little talk” from Of Monsters and Men. 

Mmmmm

Mam, mom, mum, maman or mutti, regardless of the language spoken in the countries in this part of Europe and probably in all Western civilization women with children are being called a “M” word. Obvious ‘mmmm’ is the first expression of appreciation from an infant after being fed by the woman who gave birth to him. The sweet tasting, lukewarm milk straight from her breasts, is something every baby likes. It is not so strange that ‘mmmm’ is also the sound that springs to mind when expressing something you like, something good.

However, somehow the natural order of things seemed to have been skewed a little since bottled milk became more popular. That must have caused the modern trends like Yummie Mommies and best MILF contests. Seriously, I don’t know why things are like that these days. For those who do not know it, Yummie Mommies are mothers who still find time and effort to look gorgeous while pushing the pram in such a way that they make many (male) heads turn when walking by. Although I think that a real Yummie Mommie must have at least an au pair or nanny who takes care of changing nappies and the rest of the downsides of motherhood because it is hard to keep your own appearance appealing with baby spit on your shoulder. As soon as a mother thinks she is out of the woods because her little one has passed his potty training exam and can eat without throwing every spoonful around the kitchen, time of playdates is looming. Then it is not only a matter of working your socks off for your own appearance, but spring cleaning your house every time after those little bastards are being collected by their own mothers. Saying between gritted teeth that they behaved perfectly while desperately thinking of how you can get rid of the play-doh on your ceiling. 

Things become totally different when your offspring enters adolescence. Play dates are no longer necessary because the kids organize their own hang outs. Preferably in your living room while you are at work. Pillage your drinking cabinet and smoking weed, thinking you would not notice that smell when they open the backdoor for fresh air, even in winter time.  When you’ll come home and still manage to have the looks and acting nice and cool that’s when you may earn a new title. From Yummie Mommy you have been promoted to MILF. Secretly you may be going berserk by the discovering of how your son’s friends are talking about you. Don’t boast about that too soon. However appealing to be still hot, even in the eyes of adolescents, literally it goes against your standards of how men should treat women. Show a girl respect. Control yourself. Sex is something precious, that kind of stuff. That is what you have been teaching your little boy for years after all. Not to witness that he is starting to fill his father’s boots who is talking the same language with his lads after a couple of beer too many. Except, men of his father’s age are aiming for younger women more often.

Of course all I stated above was meant to be a little sarcastic and exaggerated. I could easily have boasted about how my children act contrary (as far as I am aware of) because today it is Mother’s day. I have been showered with love and respect from my kids on any day of the year, for years. Anyway, I heard on the radio this week about a contest of best MILF. The DJ discussing the subject was definitely way past his twenties, even his thirties and perhaps even his forties.  Apparently this issue is intriguing for men of all ages. It just made me wonder.

Could there be some truth in Freud’s theory about the oral stadium of development? I doubt it. Although, you cannot deny that there is something strange about a best MILF contest and even about the desire to be a Yummy Mommy. To be a yummy woman is something else. That’s what’s bugging me, I think. Mommies  are on a totally different level than women in general. Mommies should be kind, or even a little serene, anything far from sexy. Any kid disgusts the idea of their parents having sex. 

Maybe we just should not take the abbreviation MILF too literally. Maybe we women a.k.a. mommies should take it as a compliment that we achieved still being attractive to the opposite sex being in our forties. Something our grandmothers couldn’t because they sacrificed their jobs and their lives to become a full-time mother and who other than the milkman should they have made an effort for? Times have changed and even mommies go to work daily, meeting many people on the job. And after coming home they change back in their loving and caring role of mommy. Super women. That is why they want to keep in shape. So that you can have Mommies I’ll Love Forever.

I just got my present from my three lovely daughters: A whole day relaxing together in a Hammam. To get rid of the stress from hard working and taking care of them, as they said. Mmmmm. The cuties! They are the lights in this crazy rat race that keep me going.

Good company

With some people you have a mutual feeling of enjoying each other’s company so much that it doesn’t matter how you spend your time together. Being active or sharing silent moments without feeling awkward. Being able to express your thoughts no matter how you might stumble. When asking people who feel connected that way what it is that they share their answer will probably just be ‘feeling good’. More often than not it is a bonding between just two people. That’s why they say: two is company, three is a crowd.

Feeling good is one of the first requirements of being happy. The pursuit of happiness trails along different dimensions in one’s life, both in private and in work. Although private and work are very close related it is possible to feel happy in one and unhappy in the other. It is easily to imagine that sometimes when you and your partner are constantly fighting like cats and dogs it feels like a pleasant escape to go to work where your colleagues are nice and respecting you. On the other hand, when the job is very demanding and stressful it can feel like heaven coming home to your loving and understanding partner. In between those two aspects there’s also the commuting aspect. When having the job you really like requires you have to commute for hours in heavy traffic daily it will influence your feeling undoubtedly.

Unlike a personal relationship finding a job that suits you is less long-term focused for most people. A work relationship is more a trade off of talent against wage and devotion against other employee benefits these days. We all know that happy work bees work harder, or more steady anyway and they reflect the capital of a company. To be ranked in Fortune’s the 100 Best Companies to Work for aspects like how often people move jobs, the diversity of working people in the company (gender as well as minorities), wages, and many more are being evaluated annually. As far as I know there is no equivalent for this top 100 in the Netherlands but we have some very good companies too.

In my work as a counselor I sometimes have to visit my clients in their work environment. Now and then I take some of them with me to companies like kone, one of the leaders in the elevator and escalator industry, for overcoming their fear of elevators  or to an ANWB (Royal Dutch Touring Club) driving school in Rijswijk to overcome fear of driving a car. One thing I consider as a great benefit of my work is being related to companies like that. When you would ask me what makes me say that, I would probably first respond with they just make me feel good. Elaborating a little more I could bring up that it is a good atmosphere I sense inside those companies. Their buildings are representative, inviting and welcoming and their people are professional, friendly and willing to cooperate with me and the clients I bring with me. If I was looking for a job I could be happy to work there.

Being also a mom and daughter I consider flexibility of a job with respect of care giving to your family as a very important aspect too . Maybe that’s the main aspect why I work as an entrepreneur. I am willing to work hard and long days but I prefer to manage my own time schedule. There are many things in people’s lives that cannot be postponed outside 9 to 5 and lunch breaks are meant to be breaks to refill your energy. Besides taking care of necessary stuff sometimes people don’t feel fit enough to go to work, without being ill. The company I visited recently to meet and work with my client is one of the most inventive employers about flexible workspace because ICT is their business. It makes it possible for the company to reduce their costs and most people who work there are more productive. However not every job has possibilities to allow you to work at home, it should be easy enough to take a day off when necessary. Even when it is at your own costs. It is pretty common these days that two or more people share one job. Even the general practitioners in health centers in my town do work this way. Two doctors both working part-time. When patients want specifically talk to one of the doctors they can say so in booking their appointment.

Capacity is not static, benefits shouldn’t be either. Good companies understand that.