What is it that you truly desire?

I have been watching Lucifer on Netflix. A while ago, in fact, and I started again recently.

It reminded me how much I recognize my ideas, questions and - sometimes - answers in the main character. I guess that can't be good, right?

Anyway, with Lucifer on my mind, I keep thinking of his eternal question "So... tell me, what is it that you truly  desire?"

The answer that popped into my mind was: I want someone to see me, get me and love me. I started asking myself if this is a way to get someone else to 'validate' me, to agree, to approve, to make me feel worthy... (because I have been re-reading a book by Dr Schnarch who talks about this and about the way we should self-validate instead of looking for others to validate you).

But I think not. I don't wish to be validated, to feel approval and encouragement for who and what I am. I sometimes just don't know who and what I am, but that's another story.

However I do wonder, am I Schrodinger's cat? If no one sees me, do I actually exist? And how would this translate to the other parts of what I wish for? If no one gets me - is there anything there to be understood? If no one loves me, is there anything there to be loved?

You're eating what?!

I've been Vegan for the last 5 months. Yeah, including Christmas and NY. And I don't see it changing during Easter either :-)

I have seen so many interesting reactions in my friends, colleagues, relatives (and I will get more in a few days when going to visit the family). The most common ones are two, actually: one is the unanimous conviction that I will get sick because I won't eat enough proteins and the second that it is so tough to give up meat and dairy - how do I do that?!!

I think I need to write the answer to the second one, as it's not about a book full of recipes. It's actually pretty simple: priorities. I ask myself every single day 'what is more important to me' - in various aspects of my life. And concerning food, the answer has been - at least in the past 5 months: staying alive and healthy for as long as I can.

I am terrorised by the perspective of getting ill and dying in a horrible manner. Horrible means that I can't take care of myself, that I would be in bed for months or years, that I will be a pain in the a@$ for my family and whatever friends might stick around if that happens.

Looking at my family, the genes suck. Big time. In the past years one aunt died of cancer, one due to a stroke, my grandmothers died of cancer (but the grandmothers were quite old, so at least they got to live their life more than my aunts). The remaining ones have depression, Parkinson, diabetes, high blood pressure and I don't even want to know what else. That really sucks. For them, first. As I had the inspiration to get out of the country and I am not available to take care of them. Then for me, because I saw (or heard) what it means to suffer for months - or years - in bed, where relatives had to feed you, change your diapers and basically get sick of you before you died. It's rough, I know, but it is also the way I see it. I loved those people dearly and it hurts to remember them and what they went through. This is also why I gave up on any hope or dream that God could exist. This is so crappy and these people were so nice there is no way in Hell (!) they deserved to go like that. Anyway...

Worse, I have friends or colleagues who die at impossible ages (younger than me) of cancer and the likes, leaving small children or spouses to manage as they can.

I hate it. And I am scared shitless. That I could be next. That I could leave my kids to grow up without me. That I could torture my husband for ... no idea how long before dying. That I could depend on others and I would hate my last days or months on Earth with a vengeance.

Not eating meat and dairy?? Beats it every.fucking.minute. Do I have any guarantee this is a solution? None whatsoever. Can I control my genes or my environment? No way. I control what I eat. Period.

But then again, I have been known to have a somehow unusual logic. Sue me.

Christmas, anyone?

Random things that (I might have been responsible for) happened today:

1. My dog (yes, got one of those now as well, and it deserves and it will get its own post) woke us up twice barking at the door. I am not sure what time it was the first time, it was 4:25 the second time - and this time it was because the cats were fighting outside. 
2. I remembered I forgot to twist the tree's top branch so that the thingy on top would be at a weird angle and would make Santa laugh like crazy (my youngest had that idea). He forgot as well so I escaped being the worst mother ever by promising him to take care of it and then not doing it.
3. My oldest left a note yesterday for Santa to sign, cause he knows our signatures and he can therefore check if one of us is Santa. I signed with "Ho, ho, ho. Santa" and he was deliriously happy that Santa exists, as it was definitely not one of our signatures.
4. I woke up and went quickly to brush my teeth before my kids would wake up and check the gifts. After the dog & cats concert during the night, my right foot ended up in my cat's water bowl, splashing the bathroom, my pj's and my slippers.
5. I tried to brush my teeth while dressing. Especially changing my pj's and slippers, as you can imagine. I ended up sneezing with my toothbrush in my mouth (tightly closed,hah!), and half naked. Pretty weird.
6. I had no coffee before 10:30 a.m. as I had to put together a Hot Wheels garage, then play baby foot and whatever.
7. The above was extremely obvious when I poured cat's (initially) solid food in its water bowl - yes, a freshly filled one due to no. 4 above. This turned up to look like breakfast cereals for cats -  my cat did not appreciate. She's not into Cheerios with water, I guess. She just looked at me like 'are you sh$%@# me??'.
8. I was so happy to finally have time to make - and drink - coffee, that I also made tea and got some fruit juice at the same time. I think I drank from 3-4 glasses and cups all day long, just because I could. And yes, one of them was a wine glass.

Nope, I kid you not. Just another day...  Merry Christmas to you all!

Today I am a frog

Do you know the Elephant and Piggie books? If you don't, you should!
The two characters - you guessed it: an elephant and a pig - are quite opposite of each other. The pig is carefree, funny and impulsive, the elephant is everything but.

And in my favorite (so far) book, the pig decides to be a frog. The elephant is shocked. The pig explains it's just pretend. The elephant doesn't even know what that is. And the dialogue goes something like this (not exact quotes, as I don't have the book near me):
Piggie: "Pretend is acting like something you are not"
Elephant: "And you can just do that?!"
P: "Yes, everyone does"
E: "Even adults??"
P: "All the time!"



 I can not agree more.

I come in layers. You remember Shrek? Yeah, I know I only have references from kids books and cartoons, but I am not worried. So give me a break.
Coming back to Shrek, I am an onion. I keep thinking there are so many layers of pretending that I don't even know if there's anything left under them. I feel like I am pretending to be an adult, pretending to be confident, pretending to know what I am doing, pretending to be calm, pretending to manage everything and anything that comes my way...
So today I might be a frog. Or an onion. I just wonder what's under it, if anything at all.

Note: if anyone wonders, in the end Elephant decides to be a cow and Piggie is extremely proud of him.

The voice

A few weeks (or is it months already??) I had a conversation with my boys to explain the concept of a voice inside our heads that could tell us mean and untruthful things.

I don't remember what examples I gave them, but it might have been something like "my mean voice tells me I am not nice, not a good mother for you, etc.". They listened and I am not sure what they understood. The idea was to let them know that it is normal to 'hear' something like that in their heads, but to know the voice tells lies and it is there just to make us feel bad.

Then yesterday evening, out of the blue, one of them asks "what is the voice saying?"... It took me a while to understand what he was talking about. So I thought about the voice and what her nasty messages have been in the past days. And I told them that she was saying I am not useful, I am not fun to be with, and so on. These were my feelings from past week-end, basically, when I was quite depressed that I can't seem to enjoy and engage with my kids without fights and desperation on both sides.

And when they heard that, each of them in turn told me to come closer, cause they wanted to tell me a secret. And each screamed in my ear "hey, the voice, go away and leave mom alone! you're just saying stupid things".

That was just - Perfect. I love you, little guys, and I would be so much less without you.

There is still hope...

We've been watching - with the kids, especially the 6-almost 7- years old one, The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. So now it's daily that I hear "the age of Men is over, the age of Orcs is beginning" or something similar. But another phrase in Lord of the Rings that I prefer is: "there is still hope".

Really not related to LOTR, I was remembering yesterday something that made me think there is still hope.

Some context around it, first. I love my kids and think they are the best. All the other kids are weird - or not as great, of course.
I especially have a hard time accepting that kids can be mean for no apparent reason. And I don't know a cure, so I have no suggestion, I am just complaining in a totally non constructive way.
I don't like others' kids when they whine, cry, shout and are being mean just for the fun of it. Mine can do those things, but they are mine, you know what I mean?
So this means that I especially don't get teenagers - boys and girls, but for different reasons. Anyway... It happens that I see teenagers and pray that my boys will never be LIKE THIS :-) That they won't wear weird clothes, behave as if no one else existed, be loud and inconsiderate... yup, I am an old bitchy lady, apparently.

Now back to hope. One of the afternoons I spent with my kids I brought them to a fast food with a play area. I let them play, argued with them it's time to leave after two hours, etc. Once in the car, about half way home, I realize that the favorite stuffed animal of my youngest one is missing. He lost it in the play area, of course. So after bitching about it, I make a U-turn where I am not supposed to and go back to the fast food restaurant. The so-called stuffed animal is not really stuffed, and it is in a very bad shape, because it has been very loved by my son. So it's an ugly and smelly thing, I was pretty sure no one would take it.

Once we arrived at the fast food, we went straight up to the play area, and we explained the situation to the staff and to the kids there. One of the staff actually went through all the slides, balls pools and games to look for it.
What gave me THE hope I keep mentioning since the beginning is that all the kids did the same, shouting "Diiiidiiiiiii" (the name of the beast is Didi), as if the monster could answer. It became a treasure hunt adventure and all joined in. This made me forget the annoyance of doing the U-turn, losing time and my post-fries crankiness.

Everybody was trying to help my kid retrieve something important to him. There was no question asked, it just seemed obvious this is what they needed to do.

There is still hope.

Friend who knows me

ME

"The tool must also allow for year-on-year, month-on-month, etc." - is it weird I read that as 'mouth-on-mouth'?

I need holidays.

FRIEND

no, it's fine

all it shows is that you are perturbed

ME

so just my regular self

FRIEND

Exactly

Saint Nicolas

Today is Saint Nicolas. Yes, we celebrate this in the family. Basically it means kids get sweets and gifts in (or around) their boots.
Strangely enough, I only remember one Saint Nicolas from my childhood. And it's not the usual "I got up excited and found many presents in my boots" kind.
When I grew up I spent a lot of time at my grandmother's apartment. My father was (he's retired now) an engineer on ships, so he was away often - for months at a time. During his absences, my mother and I were spending a lot of time at my grandmother's - she lived with one of my aunts, and it was quite fun being there all together.
So this one Saint Nicolas we were staying at their place. And I don't remember how old I was, but I already knew there is no Saint Nicolas who brings gifts and stuff. So what I did is that I took oranges & sweets I found in the house, and put them in all the shoes I could find. My mother's, my aunt's (and she had plenty of shoes!!) and my grandmother's. I am not sure what they really thought when they found oranges and in their shoes, but they seemed surprised (duh!) and quite amused and happy about it.

I think since then this is what brings back "Saint Nicolas spirit" for me: oranges and sweets in and around boots.
Yup, this sounds as if I had a "slightly" weird childhood. I actually think it was pretty awesome...

What are you afraid of?

After months (really, months!) of things coming up at the last minute, I finally managed to go to a 30 min massage session several days ago.

I thought I would get the relaxing, essential oil, etc. type of massage. It ended up being a shiatsu one.
After chatting with me for five minutes the lady said she recommends shiatsu. I figured it had more to do with her liking it better than the other one, than the vague "you need it" thing, so I said why not.

So for the next half of hour something unexpected happened. I felt like I've gone to see a fortune teller. In fact, I never saw one of those, so I am not sure how it would go, but this lady kept asking me questions about myself (more like making statements, really) and my answer was basically always Yes.
Like "you are anxious", "you like to control everything", "you never let go", "you don't relax", "you don't take time for yourself", "you are tired"... and on and on.
Fine, so maybe most mothers of young kids are tired and don't have time for themselves, but I am not sure how many are ... control freaks. I just had to admit she guesses well.
And then she asked me an open question "what are you afraid of?".  Huh... I said (surprise, surprise!) "I don't know". And I don't, really. OK, I am afraid something will happen to my kids or my family, but that is just normal (I hope so). What I am deeply afraid of? No clue.

I started thinking about it in my second home (yes, the car), going through the sports I would not want to do. The massage lady asked me if I am claustrophobic, if I would do speleology and stuff like that, so I thought I could continue that train of thought.
What I came up with was: I think I am afraid of falling. The sports I would not do are those that imply falling: bungee jumping, parachute jumping... and I am not totally comfortable walking on cables across a deep valley (like in some more 'extreme' hiking in the mountains we did several years ago).  But what scares me is not height in itself, I don't feel dizzy or afraid of looking down, as long as I have my feet on the ground. Falling, however, is a totally different story.

So now I am stuck thinking if falling & failing are the same for me - not only because the words are so much alike in English. I have no idea what do to with this. I know what you think, but there is just no way I will do what scares me just to get over it. I need to find something else :-)

I wonder if weirdness runs in the family

Cause it might explain ... stuff. Today is my mom's birthday. I was just thinking I am not a very nice daughter as the only present I planned to give her was a phone call. So I thought hard what I could give her and came up with nothing. Long story to explain why, so I am not going there. Anyway, during the famous phone-call-as-a-present, I asked her. She says "a skirt". And I am like "huh? What for?" (She does not leave her couch house ...) I can bet with any of you people reading this that you will not guess the reason! "for my funeral, cause I don't want to be burried in jeans" Is she for real? She wants as a BIRTHDAY present a skirt for her funeral?! Yup, that is my mom. I am young and stupid but can't figure how wearing jeans would be such a horrible thing. What if you are cremated, are you dressed when they turn you to ashes? Or on top of having a horrible job burning the dead, they get to see you dead AND naked? Yikes!Why am I thinking about these strange things now? Ah yes, thanks, mom. Happy birthday.

What is this bitchiness that just hit me?

I was in a bad mood. For no apparent reason.

I have been pretty bored at work, as I am still new to my job and I need to complete some training to do any kind of useful work. So yes, I was bored, with nothing very interesting to read on the Internet any more. Or I just suffer from lack of imagination. Anyhow, no reason to be pissed. But I was.

Then next morning I finally understood why. Or the beginning of the 'why'. Because when I woke up I instantly started looking for excuses to not go to work. It was not supposed to be a boring day at work, as I had a training scheduled. But it was that training that put me in such bad mood.

The training was called "Maximizing your personal impact".

Why would a training like that depress me? Well, I am not sure I have all the 'why's, but I have got some of them. Last year I got interviewed by several people to get a promotion that would have reflected the job that I had been doing for more than two years. To put it that way: I had a job, been doing it for couple of years, then HR realized the job was at a higher level than I had on my contract and said I should go through a formal promotion process. Hey, I didn't like it, but it's France - and either the country or the company (or both) have their way of doing things that sometimes is surprising.

The feedback I got after the interviews was extremely annoying. It said that I need to work on my assertiveness (whatever the heck that is - just goes to show I don't have it), my "voice" (yeah, getting better and better), my personal impact (thus the idiot training), etc. Basically everybody thought I was a very nice lady, doing a good job - but too "nice", shy, whatever, to be promoted. Because no director (being a man, you see) would ever take me seriously. For a job I have already been doing. Well - or very well - according to my yearly reviews.

That pissed the hell out of me. Like you wouldn't believe it. I didn't care about the promotion - I had not asked for it, nor for the money or whatever. It was the principle of it.

And I finally nailed it 6 months later, the morning I realized I am being bitchy because this training was just a reminder that I am not good enough. FOR.A.JOB.I.HAVE.ALREADY.BEEN.DOING.VERY.WELL.
Is it a wonder I thought "what the f$%&?!"

I've been reading a lot of personal improvement books and so on lately. Bored at work, remember? All - or most of them - try to tell us we are good enough as we are and until we are happy with who and what we are, we will not be able to progress.

And my company/HR/colleagues (pick your favorite) keep telling me I am not good enough. Of course, it is my choice how I take this whole business - and let me tell you I did not take it well at the time. It's still a sore spot, even if I changed jobs since then. Human mind (or weird mind, seeing that I am talking about mine) sometimes works in mysterious ways :-) I hate not getting something even if I didn't really want it. I am happy I did not get this promotion, as it would have meant my career had to be in a place I do not wish it to be at this time in my life. But... I was already doing the job and they said I am not good enough for it.

I reserve my right to be bitchy. In general that is true, but even more when others judge me and label me as 'not good enough'. Does this mean I actually think I am good enough? If yes, good for me!

On the road to madness. Or boredom. Or both

Disclaimer: You need to know that I spend around two hours a day in my car, driving to and from work. Ocasionally school and day care are in the schedule as well, and then it gets more like three hours.

It's not to complain (because I do that a lot anyhow) , it's just to explain I get bored. Like really really bored. Close to a coma bored. So then I find funny things to observe on the road. You can imagine that my notion of funny is not a standard one at that degree of boredom.

These two are from a few days ago, on my way back home.

First one is about publicity on cars and how it can go quite wrong. 

See the  QR code? Yes, the one kind of hidden behind the ladder. Let's say you're weird enough to want to scan it. And you go (a bit like me): Don't move, truck. OK, got my phone ready. Now stay like that. A bit to the left... no, not working. Maybe to the right? Riiiight... I get it now: what I need to do is just to squeeze the phone between the truck and the ladder. THAT makes sense.

Worst publicity ever.

And this guy (or gal, no idea). What is that sticker?
No, seriously, for the 5 minutes I had the car in front of me I kept asking myself that question.
Okay, I get the skull. Fine. A skull. Not a big deal. Then what the what is on its... head? Is that a tree? Oh, no, it kind of looks like a crocodile. Or not. It's actually a... bird. Is that a crow? Why? I mean, what are you trying to say? Look what I just had for dinner? Admire how much of a thorough eater I am? Worst of all, the crow looks skinny, so not sure it had enough to eat anyway.

I don't know what you're having, but maybe you should not drive.

About reading, sex and survival

This is IT. This is why I read like an obsessed person and I couldn't have said it better.
The quote is from a romance book, of course :-) 

"Reading, for me, was like breathing. It was probably akin to masturbation for my brain. Getting off on the fantasy within the pages of a good novel felt necessary to my survival. If I wasn't asleep, knitting, or working, I was reading. This was for several reasons, all of them focused around the infinitely superior and enviable lives of fictional heroines to real-life people.
Take romance for instance. Fictional women in romance novels never get their period. They never have morning breath. they orgasm seventeen times a day. And they never seem to have jobs with bosses."
(Penny Reid)

PS: I don't knit, I bake cakes.

Remember to wake up on Mondays

Yes, today is Tuesday. And this just proves my point. I need one day to wake up at the beginning of the week.

How I realized that recently (as in yesterday)?

Well, you know how ladies like to wear nice shoes? Those with medium to high heels? Old news that I discovered not so long ago: those are not good shoes for driving. So after watching my shoes get more and more wear marks on the heels, I finally did what every sane woman does: take a different pair of shoes in the car for driving, then switch once arrived at your destination.

For this, what you might also need is this little thing:

Like a very organised woman - which I totally am, 4 days a week as an average! - I have those in my car.

The bad luck is that I work in an office that has an unusual policy for entering the premises with your car. Even if we have a barrier with a badge reader - so in theory it should open once you put your badge next to it and it identifies you as a simple stupid employee and not a high tech spy... well, as I was saying, even if we have that, we also have two people before that aforementioned barrier who are asking to see your badge. Because, for unknown reasons -at least to my tired brain cells- the barrier is open in the morning. Yup. Just like that.

Anyway, back to my bad luck. Yesterday I was not very awake. And as you can suspect by now, after all this, it led me to showing the poor guy this:

See the problem there? I hope he didn't. I felt like an idiot anyway, but I admit I also felt relief that I don't have other type of clothing in the car that I could have picked up and shown to him by accident.

(Almost) perfect moments

I am usually the one putting the beasts kids to sleep. I used to think (and still do, on a regular basis) that those moms who say how wonderful it is to put kids to bed and give hugs and kisses and so on are full of it. For me it's more like this book my friend introduced me to.

Anyway... So I have this "quality" time with my kids which is mostly filled with 'stay in your bed', 'no need to drink milk for the 10th time in the past 5 minutes', 'shut up and let your brother sleep' - in all degrees of voices, from whispers to shouts and back again.

But I admit that it also happens that we have interesting conversations, some become my favorite moments. Or my almost perfect moments.


                       ************
(still) 5 years old: You know, mommy, before I die...
Me (thinking): huh?
(still) 5 years old: ... there is only one face I would like to see...
Me (thinking): hmm, that's so cute...
(still) 5 years old: ... my girlfriend's.
Me: What?!!

                       *************

(still) 5 years old: Mommy, I have a secret to tell you. You should not say anything to daddy.
Me: Ok...
(still) 5 years old: In fact, I prefer you over daddy.
Me: hmm... are you sure? Daddy tells nice stories and plays with you more than I do.
(still) 5 years old: Yes, but I really like you better.
Me: Ok then, that's unexpected...
(still) 5 years old: It's because I did the "eeny, meeny, miny, moe"* and you won.


*Equivalent in French is "la plouf" (for my friend who has no clue of what it is, but has great taste in books) and in Romanian it's "ala-bala-portocala"...

Jokes

• What does a tomato say when crossing the road?
• "Ketchup!"

•  What does a 5 years old kid tell his mom after she tells this joke?
• "That was so lame "

I had to agree with him.

Animals' cruelty

I love cats. And dogs. And bunnies and all nice fluffy, cuddly animals.

The only one I currently own - also known as The (Stupid) Cat - is a very welcomed addition to my household. That is my opinion, and for sure not my husband's.

Despite this, in many occasions I get to philosophize - usually this happens between 2 and 4 am, so bear with me, the quality of the philosophical part of my internal monologue might be slightly questionable:

• Is the clock showing the right hour or I am dreaming?
• How many times did The Cat wake me up already? Is The Cat inside and wants to go out or the other way around? What door should I open - it's f... dark outside and I only hear some scratching, no idea if from upstairs or downstairs?
• Does The Cat realize it is asking to be nicely kicked out of the house at -5 degrees for no reason whatsoever?
• What does The Cat try to express when climbing on my curtains at 2 am? 
• Why don't I wear any slippers so that I can throw one towards The Cat's head? Maybe I should buy some and just keep them next to my bed?
• Should I finish the beer I still have in my glass because I was too tired to finish it last night? Oh, it's 5 am so might not be a good idea to start the day with a beer. Or would it?...
• Does The Cat communicate with the children on a hidden channel and only wakes us up at 5-6 when the children sleep later than usual?
• How come when the children wake up at 6, The Cat seems abnormally tired and it's not even moving from the bed - making it difficult for me to go and stop the screaming kid from waking his brother?

All this brings me to the idea that there is such thing as animal's cruelty.

Might be a stretch, but what if they just hate our guts and find ways to show it to us and we are too dumb to get it? Or they just want to get even. Either way, it's working.

Five years old wisdom: love and kids

My son has a girlfriend. Here is a sentence I hoped I would not write (or think about) for the next 10 years or so. Because he is five and a half. And because he is practically going steady, as they have been friends for more than 2 years now.

They are planning on living in a house in the trees. He recently told me that they want to have only one child, as it is too difficult to deal with two. I wonder how he figured that one out :-D

Then things got weird.

*Disclaimer: the opinions that follow are in no way my own - especially since I suspect the girl's parents might be reading this*

He said that the child will be a boy, but should not be like his little brother - hey, I get you, dude, your brother is at times a major pain in the a#@ - and so are you, but who's judging?
Anyway, back to the weird part: he proceeded to tell me that he wants a boy because boys are more intelligent than girls. To my utter disbelieve accurately described by a "huh!?" he explains that girls believe in princesses. So I am still in my WTF moment and say "but princesses do exist, unlike Transformers and dinosaurs'. That might have been my mistake as he ended the argument with "but dinosaurs existed and Transformers might exist, what do you know?" and moved to another topic.

I conclude that:

1. I am stupid because I read romantic novels and some might mention princes and princesses; 
2. I am an inept mother who convinced her kid that two children are too difficult to manage; and 
3. I failed miserably to prove to a five year old that girls'/women's IQ is not below men's. 

Despite all this, my son has a girlfriend and he tells me he loves me, even if we are both - me and the girlfriend - inferior human (!) beings, so I still believe that all is ok in the world. Just one more proof that love is blind and hopeless.

"How do you know" series: Tiredness

To follow the "how do you know?" series I was not aware I started here (that time it was 'how do you know you're losing your mind') - I'm now trying to understand how do you know you are too tired to function.

I knew I was in that case on day when I was taking a nap in my dorm room at the University (how wonderful we had time to do that back then!). When I woke up I remember that while I was sleeping, someone dropped by, I had gotten up, opened the door, talked to her, then went back to sleep. It was awesome that I remembered that part, ‘cause I had no freaking idea what we had talked about. At least I remembered who the person was and went to tell her I had been basically sleep-walking when talking to her.

Then again, during my University years, I had joined a summer course with a student association and the organizers were actually killing us. It was a two weeks course, with real classes at the University in the morning (starting from 9, so wakeup call was at 7!) & in the afternoon, and then... the fun began. All evening and night it was party time. You know the 'work hard, party hard' thing? They lived by it. You had no chance in h@$% to go to sleep before 3 or 4 am (and they cleaned after that! I don't know how they did it). After one week in this rhythm I remember I did not know what language I spoke (we were students from all over Europe, so it was supposed to be English), I did not remember much of what I was studying and probably I made no sense at all. I know that at the end of the two weeks, during the exam - yeah, we had one of those - I just finished it as fast as I could so that I could get some sleep right there in the classroom. Those were the days!

Back to current times... why did I bring this on? Of course, I have two active sons and blah blah, I am so tired... but it's actually not that. It's stupid, really. For no specific reason, a couple of days ago I realized I have reached the bottom again: after waking up (if we can call it that), I went to get my toothbrush and then got back to bed to brush my teeth. 

QED

Conversations with a 5 years old (aka Innovation, as good as it gets)

Him: I want to invent a machine that works when the electricity fails.
Me: hmm... what would it look like? (thinking: oh boy, the innovation gene strikes again)
Him: like a box with a green button... and a red one...
Me: ok... (thinking: I can zone out now, should be safe enough, just keep agreeing with him)
Him: ... .... (blah blah I don't listen to...)... and then there will be a white button
Me: ah really, a white one?
Him: yes, right next to the yellow one!
Me: oh. Right. (thinking: wtf? there was a yellow one I missed somewhere?)
and this goes on and on...
... and I zone out again...
Him: and then the problem is to put a sign saying we have a box that saves you when there is no electricity.
Me: Riiight. (thinking: so now I'm selling boxes to save people from lack of electricity. And I need a marketing plan)
Him: Yup, we'll just put a sign to say this. But then I think the bubble is a better one.
Me: What? What bubble?
Him: the motorcycle bubble!
Me (remembering THAT conversation): Oh yes, so it won't rain on you.
Him: yes, it's a better invention, don't you think?
Me: I totally agree. (thinking: Note to self: throw away every other sock from his wardrobe so that he can match the mad scientist image - my sister in law figured him right)