video games.

"Mam, there are some things you can do better and there are some things I can do better", Jip said.

"Like, I can do all video games better and you can do everything else better."

This is true, of course.

On the rare occasion I am handed Jip's nintendo, Mario always ends up walking, walking, walking, against a wall.

"Ugh", Jip will sigh, and with a flick of the thumb, Mario will jump and run again.

Now, this was a long introduction to where I am in the resettling process.

This week I felt like Mario walking walking walking against that wall.

I have heard this is not abnormal after three months.

The logistics do not run smoothly, I have been overbooking my children, constantly on the bike to a friend, from an activity - street-dancing to fencing to dutch lessons and in between the kids are killing each other at high volume in an open playing field. Somewhere in there I lost my helicopter view and I dare not go in and get it.

There is a faint smell of sewer that keeps popping up in the bathroom of our high design flat, with built in coffee machine and wine fridge, it lingers, and all the machines have been tuned to beep when they are finished with their cycle, which is never at the same time, and continuous, it seems, making me a nervous person.

My main characters are whining on paper.



But other than that, all is well, spring is in the air, which makes all that cycling very pleasant if I should take a moment to enjoy it.



Beside Justin Bieber has penetrated these walls, and has given my children hope for a better future.

I have rushed out of bed in the morning, thinking I heard one of my children moan with pain, but it was only Jip singing along to the i-pod with the headphones on.

Taking street dancing lessons is obviously part of a bigger plan.



Rosie drapes herself over the table in adoration whenever they play this video.



Do I look like him, Rosie?, Jip asks. No way, Rosie says.

And this is how we come to sing Baby, baby ,baby, all day long.

Love S1,