“Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged of humanity”

Rabindranath Tagore said that…and I do believe in those words with all my heart and soul.

And yet I turn on the TV and listen to the world news for less than 3 minutes and I wonder what a courageous beings we are to bring more innocent souls to THIS world:

the world that now had become this horrible place where crimes were recorded every six seconds…and no need to go far away to see lack of kindness... after all so rarely someone gives up his/her seat on the bus to either the elderly or the pregnant.

the world that parents now HAVE to raise their kids in bubbles and guess what? Kids are coming out worse than before. ...

You know which world I am talking about…you live in it with me.

And then we live to make our own unique way in this world...that is our responsibility; that is our duty as human beings....

Yet I do worry for my child…I look at all the disasters that goes around in this world and I worry for my baby….

Sometimes the shocking stories are not even on CNN or BBC world news...go figure!

One of my closest friend’s son is adopted from one of South American’s countries and does not look like his parents at all. My friend is Jewish (not an orthodox one) and is raising her kids in that religion and with that tradition. Her son attends a privet Jewish school which Hebrew is the first language and then after that is English in the curriculum.

For a non believer of any monotheism religion like me, this can be a foreign concept: to raise my child only being exposed to one “religion” and “one set of belief and tradition”.

I mean generally speaking I do belive all the religion privet schools can create a higher possibility for less tolerable adults in the future.

At the same time I have a passion for reading about different philosophies, history and religions and through that hobby of mine, I am familiar with Jewish Tradition and especially with Kabala and I know of the deep need that they have in cherishing their Tradition.

Recently my friend told me about an incident that occurred in that Jewish Privet School. A little 7 years old girl told my friend’s son (which recently turned 7 years old himself): “It is really funny that you are Jewish. Are you sure you are? You don’t LOOK Jewish at all!”. My friend over heared the conversation word for word herself...Just imagine the look on her face at that moment!

She was telling me the story with so much sadness and anxiety for the effect of the sentence on her little boy. She was stunned of the reality that how “closed minded” people can be…and “that little girl must have heard the similar comment from her parents”…

I was stunned from another similarity. After all it was Hitler who said they do look too Jewish and therefore…we know the rest, don’t we?

I shared my thoughts with my friend and she finished my sentence that “now there are Jewish people who say: you do not look Jewish enough!”… After all it is just two sides of the same coin…Prejudice does not recognize any race, culture or religion.

Where I grew up, to toughen up the kids, we have been told many times “words can't hurt you”. Well my personal experience was so much different. My scars are the evidence of all the times that words wounded me so deeply, so irreversibly….and I have so many of these scares. Some of them are still bleeding uncontrollably.

How many of us parents, caught ourselves right in the middle of swearing?

I mean admitably sometimes saying “shit” out loud is just so relaxing!

I don’t want my kids to learn “those bad words”…but deep down I also believe there are no “bad” words, there are just “bad” intentions behind the words…and there are always alternative words that might make the message more readily received and accepted.

How many of us are very aware of not using the “S” words and the “F” words and so one?

And….

How many of us are aware of those seemingly innocent comments about people? Those casual judgmental comments I mean…. The one that our little innocent kids absorb like a sponge

Oh dear Tagore... God is not discouraged by humanity…not yet at least….but by God! sometimes we are so discouraged by ourselves….

May you be loved all the time....

If you ask me what I want the little boss to be when he grows up, I can not really say anything…there is not even an imagination there.

We all know the clichés replies to this question: For him to be healthy and happy and enjoy whatever he does….

Today in the playground, I thought about few things that I do wish him not to be but “to become” when he is a grown up…and hopefully even much sooner than that…

I like him to become a very kind and extremely loving man.
I like him to exercise generosity of the heart every hour of the day.
I wish for him to use his mind AND his heart every step of his life.

I also want him to make sure that NO ONE screws with his mind and heart.
I want him to always be absolutely sure that he is perfect just the way he is and there is absolutely no need for him to change in order to please anyone…

Today in the playground I had a glimpse of the adult world that one day my child might be playing in it…After all we are in our own version of playground everyday and we play in it just the way we live our daily lives!

At the playground you see mostly three groups of adults:
The group of nannies that ALWAYS find each other and attract to one another like magnet.
The group of mothers that are either already friends or trying to become friends and therefore sitting on the side line and making conversation with one another while have an eye on their kids from there.
And then the group of the mothers that are on the fields. They are not far from their little ones and as the sisterhood of the playground rules, they have an eye on their kids as well as the kids in their section…trying to make their babies out of danger- the one that is caused by themselves or by the other kids.

I belong to the latest group. By nature, I am not the type of mommy to sit aside with other adults and chat. I do not go to playgrounds to find friends and I am perfectly Ok with not have any adult conversation during my time with little boss. I like to observe him with all my senses…and let’s not forget I want to make sure neither him nor other kids can put him in any danger.

Watching him in the playground today…it was such a fascinating insight into his almost 21 months old character.

He is not a follower by nature. He loves to explore and find his own way of doing things, and so far he does not mind to play and explore on his own. At the same time I noticed not only today but so many times before, that my little one has a very deep ability of observation. He observes any situation or any object from many different angles. This is why he needs to first observe everything and then use them or loose them!

This is why he has to first “become familiar” to any toy that we get him….The joke between me and better half is “let the new toy sit there at the corner for a while and this little man will assess it from far and if it is a keeper, he will figure EVERYTHING about it by the end of the assessment”.

Today at the playground, he ran from one side to the other, from one wall puzzle to the other (which are his favorites) and from the corner of his eyes he was checking up these “older babies”

– he call all the kids regardless of their ages “baby”. Currently we are working on the words “Kid”, “Child” and “baby” as well as gender categories. Indeed our adult world is such a complicated one –

He was defending himself very well. I was indeed very impressed when one kid pushed his hand from the wall puzzle and he did not give up, looked at her silently and brought his hand very calmly but extremely firmly right where it was and continued “HIS” play…the other kid, at least two years older than little boss, looked at my little one and gave up, ran to her mother and wept that the puzzle is hers alone and why others play with it….

We tried to talk about sharing…no effect…

Then he ran toward the “boat”, looked at the other kids that were climbing in it, went closer to the boat and stopped. I offered to help him to go in, he just turned and ran to the other direction…humming to himself “Les [ let’s] running”….less than one minute after that he ran toward the boat again and this time went closer and watched what is inside the boat. Two other kids were there.

One of the other “field mommies” offered to help him. This time I silently stood back and just looked. He looked at the kids, totally ignored the mother and turned and ran to the other direction….2 minutes after he ran toward the boat yet again….went right beside it. This time around the boat was even more crowded…he just chose the tallest side to climb from…Brought one leg up, the place was too tall for him. I pushed his back, he climbed in and went and sat right in the middle of the boat…the most comfortable position.

Another kid climbed in and slide right on my little angel’s legs. Little boss, just hold the kid’s legs up and pushed it to the other side. I whispered in his ear, “Are you OK mamma?”….no replies.

He was mesmerized by the fact that he is IN there and he is sitting right in the middle of the boat, not at the corners where the actual seats were but right in the middle of the boat…not moving, not answering….then he looked at the other mommy and for the first time acknowledged her existence…pointed at her Starbucks’ cup and said: “Coffee, very good, very good” (he said this with EXACT imitation of his Dadda)….All the adults start cheering that this little one recognizes coffee and say the word so clearly. He ignored all the cheers….and gave a big smile to me and pointed his finger up and said “TV mamma!”….I looked up…Oh you clever boy, you spotted TV even before me. Up there on the wall was the TV with little kids program….my little one chose the best seat on the boat to watch “Bob the builder”….I laughed and told him do you want to sit there? He said: NO…climbed out and ran again….

Obviously he got attracted to his beloved “Choo Choo” at the “Thomas the train” table. Beside him was an older boy, approximately 4 years old. Little boss had one eye on Choo Choo, trying to figure out how does it move, and one eye on the “baby”. Suddenly he looked at the boy and said “Hi baby, Are you good?”…the boy gave a “not very happy look” to my little boss and without any reply moved to the other side of the table….my baby followed him to the other side of the table and said: “Hi baby, how aee [are] you? Are you good?”…the boy really got annoyed. He turned his back to little boss. I went closer and said: “My love, this is a big boy, not a baby. You can tell him Hi big boy, How are you?”…little boss, still looking at the “baby boy” repeated: “Hi, are you good?”….

By this time little boy decided to forget about the “Thomas” and go somewhere far….My heart sank in…I looked at my little boss…he continued playing with his choo choo and with a big smile sang to me…Choo Choo tain [train]…Choo Choo…

I just pictured myself years down the road trying to answer little boss “Why he does not play with me?” or worse than that “why he does not like me?”

And I tired to hear my broken voice that “honey he doesn’t know you yet. When he knows you, he will play with you”…I could not imagine any other answer…

My heart went to 1000 pieces and at the same time I knew kids are like that. Even he is like that. When there are younger kids around, he tends to not pay attention to them and just do what he wants to do…or even move away. But still….

There's nothing to be done but hold your head up and move on.

My angel moved on for sure…heads up and actually full speed...he ran so much today that he was absolutely exhausted by the time that he reached his bed for his nap…While I was watching his sleeping face, I silently sang for him my usual made up prayer that I sang for him since he was born:
…
….
….
May God grant you health and joy!
May God grant you happiness!
May God grant you love to live!
May God grant you love to laugh!
May you become a very kind man!
May you become a very wise man!
May you learn to love people!
May you be loved in return!
May you learn to help people!
May you be helped in return!
May you be loved all the time!
May you feel loved all the time!
….
…..
….

My Dad, my security blanket…

So today was the Father’s day!

Little boss had lots of fun with better half daddy and I had even more fun just watching them…I belive my hubby is the best father I could have ever chosen for my children...He is the most emotional logical man I have ever seen in my entire life...

But that is not what I want to write about tonight.

I want to write about my own Dad, my safe haven, my always cautious Dad…the one that is the true definition of courage (and possibly in that area I disappointed him so much with all my logical and illogical anxieties and fears!!!)

My dad and I have the most interesting relationship. As I grew up and especially in the last 10-12 years, more and more he took the role of a friend, a very wise and truly experienced one.

It is very interesting for me to hear “the always presence protectiveness” in his voice, even in our most casual chats. I remember when I was a teenager it used to make me so irritated. I think at that time what I used to perceive – like any other teenager- was elimination of my freedom. Truly how delusional teenage years can be!

My dad is the one that taught me the definition of “freedom”. I always credit both my parents for it. But in all fairness, my dad was at the core of it. I think I was only 6-7 when he told me that in order to be “free” in mind; one has to know as much as she can…and to know as much as she can, one has to read and gather information with no prejudice.

At that time I really did not understand what exactly he was talking about. But I was very much used to my dad’s method of teaching, always lessons from 5 years ahead – OH the pure torture of math lessons when you are at grade 3 and your dad teaches you the stuff from grade 7 without even realizing it himself.

But I understood the punch line of his lesson: I have to read and I can read whatever I like to….and that became the biggest hobby of mine since the early childhood. Still to this day, with all the fatigue and exhaustion, I read books all the time. I became very fast reader and as I am blessed with a very good memory, I can almost repeat the favorite sentences of the book that I read.

All those reading were / are grate topics of conversation between us. One of my fondest memories of my childhood is our weakly trips with my father to “book district” in our hometown. We used to spend so many hours there, go up and down, pick up books, brows them, buy them and then come home. That was priceless….

In a world that freedom of thought is not so much valued; my father showed me the true value of it. He made sure his daughter question EVRYTHING and EVERYONE, even if that meant questioning him….a very pleasurable hobby of mine I may add!

He equally engraved in me the love of history…and as a result of that my obsessive fascination with historical documents, monuments, museums, European cathedrals and even famous graveyards!!

I still can remember the many hours that I, as a teenager, forced my parents to walk with me in the streets of Paris because I just HAD to see every corner of that historical world!!!

I absolutely LOVE conversing and that is something that my mom could never understand – being a very silent person- and my dad could always cherish.

I think my ability of debate and the art of lively carry on a conversation for a very long time is the greatest gift that he blessed me with – both thanks to his gene pool and his training…

I have been told so many times in my life that I could have been a grate court room lawyer. I always thought that is a compliment with a danger attached to it – well I really do not have such a high regard for lawyers personality!!

I am a very good debater. I have a sharp mind when I talk and converse. I can feel the rush of adrenaline and my mind works like a grate chess player and can see different angles of the argument or the topic. All of it truly is in his gene as well as the extensive training that I got every single day when I was growing up.

My dad and I can talk…talk and talk. The topic can be anything from an article of Time magazine, a News from the BBC, something that a relative said, our latest readings, my mother and how she is always silent, our ideas about logic and emotion…well that one is a never ending debate.

You see, -we are in a tug of war there. After all my father is a logical being to the core and I am a sponge of emotion…or at least that is what I thought in my superficial observation…Oh how superficial I was indeed!

For the first time in my entire life, I saw my father cried when my son was born.

Possibly 10 minutes before the actual action began, he came in the delivery room and sat beside me and very gently rubbed my arm. My eyes were closed and my body temperature was dropped and I was shivering because of the shock of the pain. The nurses were trying to bring my core temperature up. So I was little bit out of it. The gentleness of the touch was so much like my mother’s touch – my husband and my mother were present for my entire delivery from the beginning to its glorious end.

I opened my eyes and I saw my Dad’s face, close to my bed, looking unbelievably worried. He told me one sentence: “I wish I could take your pain instead of you” and then he chocked and left the room.

The next time that I saw him, was possibly 10 minutes after little boss was born. The doctor and nurses were all done with me and I already forgot about all the pain. The room was almost dark as that was my only request about the delivery room and truly the staff accommodated me so much. They made the room as dark as possible and during the action used a few spot lights where they needed.

In that dark room with my son in my arms, my father sat beside me, brought his face close to my head and just cried…he mumbled some words that were not understandable. I think for the very first time in his life, my always talkative dad was absolutely tongue tide – so opposite of my mother. She was extremely chatty at that time. Truly I thought I am in a parallel universe.

I never forget that moment. Right there and then an “Opa” was born – Opa is the name that my son calls my father (which is German for grandfather and means “old papa”) and Oma is the name that he calls my mother (German for grandmother and means “old mamma”).

Opa is totally different with little boss. He turns to another human being. He is a ball of emotion. My father never was a person who shows his emotion, especially verbally. I mean it is only in last 10- 15 years that in response to my “I love you Dad”, he will reply his “Me too, me too”. Now Opa tells his grandson “I love you”, “My dear, my sweetheart”, “The apple of my eyes”, “the joy of life”, “My joy” and so many other loving phrases, in 3 different languages….I mean: Way to go Dad!!!!

Their interaction is priceless…needless to say that my son is absolutely, whole heartedly, IN LOVE with Opa….Opa is the ultimate fun…when there is Opa in the room, we do not shine at all!!!

Oma is also in a parallel universe with my son, considering that the ONLY PERSON in the entire world, that she is very talkative and chatty with, is the little boss. I mean Oma talks and talks and talks to my son (and my very chatty son carries the conversation for a long time in his words of course)....I sometimes wonder where were these people all my life?!

I heard about the miracle of grandchildren. Well this particular one had a genetic mutation affect on my Dad (and my mom!). When I tease him – which I do that a lot – he responds me: “Well my girl, I matured”!

Happy Father’s Day Dad!

You are the best dad for ME, a man with a deep wisdom, a never ending paternal love and above all, you are and always will be my security blanket…

His love affair with water!

Last night I was beyond tired. I could not even manage to sit straight, let alone write about “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn”!

My son has a love affair with water. For that I am greatly thankful….especially every time that I hear stories of mothers and fathers going through torturous bath routine.

The first time that I have been told about his flirt with water was when he was only 12 hours old, we were in the hospital and the nurse gave him his customary first bath, beside my bed in the hospital.

I started crying because he was, well screaming and crying and I did not know what to do and I felt he is in torture. The nurse told me it is because she took his clothes off and newborns don’t like that…and then she said: “OH you should be thankful. He is really good in water compare to all the other newborns”… And I thought: “Are you kidding me? Do you hear what I hear?!!”

Well then it was our very first bath at home…and then and there I realized the nurse was right. My baby cried when we took his clothes off and as soon as he felt the water, all was heavenly. He again cried when we took him out of the water…

My better half (as well as my parents) was not surprised that the little boss loves water mostly because I am truly in love with water (like mother, like son)…but in my opinion his fascination with water is even beyond the whole nine yard!!!

And there goes the beginning of a very blossoming love affair…

Now the little guy is 20 months old and running everywhere and finding 1001 different ways to, well how shall I put it, make momma’s days more adventurous!!!

He loves the bathtub in his bathroom where we bathe him every other night. For the last 2 weeks the little man demands to have bath every night. Lately he discovered something even more “delicious”…and that is Momma and Dadda’s “big bathtub” – which is bigger and wider than his bathtub –

During the days he cries , screams, bribes me with kisses and hugs, and do so many things (mostly involved high pitch voice) to let him go in our bathroom for what he calls "water play".

The little man stands beside our bathtub. He goes on tip of his toes, reaches for the water tap and turns on the water…thank God so far he can only do this with cold water.

Then it is for minutes and minutes after that he touches the water with such a mesmerizing look, try to hold the water with tip of his fingers, try to hold it in the palm of his hands and then splash it on his face, then dry his face and hands with the towel that momma gave him, sometimes hold the towel - or any other clothe items for that matter- under the running water, then turn the tap off, look to see how the water goes down the drain and then proudly announces "WOW!"….and let’s start from the beginning…over and over and over again!

I am always worried because he might loose his balance by being on the tip of his toes and also his hands and face become icy cold because of the cold water.

Well yesterday, he manages to surprise himself even more.

Some how he found a bucket, fill it and empty it no other place than Mamma and Dadd’s bathroom floor, not once or twice or even three times, but from the look of it I firmly guess it was very few number of times….This all happened in a matter of less than 3 minutes while I was trying to fix something that he…well…broke!

I turned and I saw a flood in my bathroom…and little man was fascinated with the concept of water “not going anywhere and staying right there”!

I just ran and the rest can be imagined…..

Exactly 15 minutes after I finished drying the whole place, while he was running from one room to the other and I was chasing him only four steps behind, he managed to end up being in our bathroom again (remember I am literally four steps behind)….and then I hear the scream of shock and him running in my arms TOTALLY WET from head to toe….well while I am trying to calm him down, I glanced curiously inside the bathroom and it is my turn now to be in absolute shock….

OH GOD, I DID NOT IMAGINE THIS ONE!

The little boss turned on the two taps of our Bidet at the SAME TIME, to the FULL FORCE. This was his very first experience with Bidet and he obviously did not know what this big toy is…and did not know that it has an option of water coming out of it upward!

So I was in total shock, and for sure the look of it was really funny because in the middle of all this drama the little man stopped his shock affect and burst into laughter while looking at me…and I…well really it took good 10 seconds for me to understand what is happening and to start moving…and to go in there and get wet myself and turn off the taps...a good 10 seconds of me staring at the fountain of water.

I ran toward the bidet, turned off the water and then looked at the ceiling….there was water EVERYWHERE, on the floor, on the walls, on the ceiling…

I had to run out again and first dry the little man and change every pieces of his clothes and then put him in the play yard (with lots of objections from your highness of course!) because I needed to make sure while I am doing the labor work nothing else will be on fire in the house -or shall I say nothing else will be submerged in the water!

And I thought how silly I was when the first time I thought what a hard work it is to dry the place….really one does not clean a bathroom unless she cleans the ceiling and yesterday dear blog that was what I did!

Obviously our day did not end with this story…he had more things to brake, more things to hide, more mileage to run, and more memory to create.

He had his bath time tonight. He splashed the water, talked to the beloved water (I am not kidding he says “Hi water, are you good water?”or “Hi rain, are you good rain?”) and played almost in a trance state with his few different size buckets and he does not mind how many times I pour water on his head and wash his hair…he can stay there for an hour I think…I never tried though!

Today compare to yesterday was a calm day…compare to a non toddler day, it was lots of adventures one after another…

Now after all that hard work to dry and clean the place, when I look back, I have a smile on my face and can not stop my giggle especially by remembering that exact first 10 seconds…

Well, that was my day yesterday. Was yours as “water full” as mine?

Do you see what I see?

Sooooo, do I have a blog worthy material here? OH YA!!!

You know how people, that English is their second language and just started to learn it, talk?

In my opinion they talk HONEST, especially when they are learning the particular forign language in their mid or late life.

Mostly because they don’t have enough vocabulary to “hide” the truth or put a nice outfit on it….This is why I always enjoy hearing their plain and straight forward talk.

So a very nice sweet lady (who is one of my acquaintances and English is her second language and is learning it in her late 30’s) told me something very “honest” today….

She saw I am going for a haircut – I know it is a record for me to go only after 6 weeks. The reality is that I was a good girl and made the appointment last time…and to be totally honest with you, forgot to cancel or reschedule it:):):) -

Anyway, she, in her totally honest way, told me: “Oh, you should let your hair be long. You are more beautiful long hair. Like those pictures that I saw you with long hair”.

I, being little confused, asked her: “What pictures are you referring to?” and she so innocently said: “ Oh those pictures that you are so thin and beautiful. You are now BIG”…..and then she made referral to few pictures that she saw from my wedding or the time before that…let’s say all 10-15 years ago…

But did you get the punch line – and I really mean it literally “THE PUNCH LINE”?

“BIG”…

I went to a little “OH!!!” and told her “Am I big now?"

And she, getting a little confused, repeating herself so innocently and then says: “Bigger. Oh no you are not fat. You are just not thin like those pictures. You are bigger now. Don’t worry.”

So…dare I write more?

Well, one of my closest friends got an earful about the conversation and God bless her heart, in an attempt to rectify the situation, she told me: “What do you expect? It is all your fault of course. You always wear all these “shloppy” clothes [is that even a word?]. They are all so loose. You never go for something tight. You have such a beautiful waist line…but NOOOO never show it. Of course no one sees your figure”….

I know what she says is true. That is my taste...or my fault (whatever you like to call it!). Once in a while, under the influence of my gorgeous Yummy Mommy friend, I go through a mini short lived revolution and wear fit clothes that show my curves, but that lasts…well not so long!

I decided to go to my very best and closest friend, which will be my better half. Knowing so well that he will be in a conflict of interest situation – being the husband and all he can not do the highest crime and tell the wife: OH ya honey, you are fat! – But at the same time I knew he is extremely honest person.

So he, upon hearing the comments word for word, told me: “No you are not BIG or fat or whatever.” Still I could not settle the case...

I looked at the mirror (Not wise, I know!)….I could not see myself BIG really…I cannot say I am fat…but then I glanced at those traitor pictures….well I did look beautiful in all of them. What do you expect? I think everyone is gorgeous on their wedding days and well any 20 years old girl is just stunning…that is the age factor…period!

Then I looked at my hubby and his pictures on our wedding day and the pictures from the very first night that we met…the time line is almost the same, 10-14 years ago…Well I have to admit: he is “Bigger”…

I told him about it and aksed him what is his thoughts and he with a confused look replied: “ I think I put on some weight compare to the first time we saw each other but is it really that much compare to the wedding?”...YAAAAA buddy….it is!!!!!!!!!

Just there and then I lost the argument against myself…

You see of course my body was different 10-15 years ago. Forget about the pregnancy and all…Forget about the fact that in last few weeks I am unbelievably exhausted and my skin reflects it the worst…forget about the fact that in last 2 weeks alone I look really “shitty”( I think I touched that base in another post)…still the age alone does it all.

I can never ever have that slim, gorgeous body, the same way that I can not have that radiant skin or those lively curly hair. That is the reality….no wonder everyone is running after the fountain of youth!

But for all this time – and even still now- how come I can not see myself “BIG” or “BIGGER”?

I mean do you see what I see?
Are we looking at the same object?

I still wear the same size pants as my pre-pregnancy…so does that mean I was even BIG then?

I guess I am back to my very favorite topic….Perception, Percoeption, Perception….There is no way out of it. We look and perceive a delusional world…really!!!

I am even tempted to scream sometimes and ask out loud: “Hello, does anyone live out there?”….

Well my delusional world, my illusionary image, whatever you want to call it, just broke today….

I am a woman in my mid 30’s and did age... and apparently got “bigger”…whatever that means...

I better not tempt to look for all the lines on my face…one shock per day is enough!

He said it today for the first time...and that makes it all worth it!

From time to time, mothers think about the things that they sacrificed when they had a child and became "a mother". The items on the list is different for us... it can be long or short…but nevertheless, let's not fool ourselves, all of us will think of it….some frequently and some very rarely.

We can think of the things that we never be able to do, now, for a long time or forever again. Some of us might think of different body shape that we might have had, we might think of some of our friendships that has changed, some will moan about the freedom that is gone forever no matter what age your child is...and some is bending double under the heaviness of responsibilities...

The list can go on and on and on….there is no denying it. Life will change profoundly, unmistakably, with no return point.

Sometimes, with all my heart, I wish for all the mothers to enjoy these changes…but the reality of life is that not all the mothers cherish the changes…not everyone look back with no regret....I have seen a good handful of these examples in my adult life.

The life of a mother (and a father) is no longer belongs to her (or him). Free time becomes a strange concept (and most of the times if there will be a free time, you fill it with things related to the kids); the conversations with husband and friends have so many traces about the kids and sometimes becomes all about them (you really wonder how was it before they arrived?!); the money is no longer so easy to spend, there is so many other priorities to consider, so many other plans for “their” future or their present; the nature of trips changes until one day kids grow up and they decide that they do not want to be with mom and dad...OH what an irony!

This evening, as soon as Daddy came home, Momma ran out the door.

In my list of "to do things" one was a visit to the post office. I was waiting to mail a letter. In front of me was a cue of three ladies in their late 20’s – early 30’s, all dressed up extremely stylish and up to date from head to toe, with extremely beautiful manicures.

From their conversation one could guess they are indeed single. They were planning to “grab a bite” and “ run to see Sex and the city”…My imagination wondered….I remembered 3 years ago when I wanted to grab a quick bite and run to see the latest movie ON SCREEN with my gal pals!Now I can not remmber when was the last movie that I saw on big screen...WOW!

Then I thought of my wardrobe, it is very classically stylish with emphasize being on "classically" - and by that I mean the last major clothes shopping for me was pre pregnancy.

Considering that my taste always leans toward classical items and the fact that I returned to my pre- baby weight very quickly, I really did not see the need of any shopping spree! -- and let's not forget the money could have been used for some cute clothes for much dearer person: my little boy - And right there at that very moment out of no where my mind jumped to the list of things that I need to buy for my little boss and when can I go to my favorite children boutique for shopping?

Then the three ladies talked about their upcoming summer trips to Europe…and my mind wondered to the fact that how, for a while at least, we can not go for our annual summer trips to Europe or my yearly trips to my beloved Italy….and again it happened: totally out of my control, my mind thought of Disney trip and when can it be possible for us (when will it be good for our little boss, when will it be suitable for the budget…)….

The ladies left the post office…and I finished what I needed to do in a half daze, half sleep manner….

I came home and my pride and joy screamed with happiness and ran toward me. I picked him up and he said it for the first time ever – a full sentence with verb and all:

“Mamma, mamma, I Yove Yoo”!

My heart melted.
My heart skipped a beat…
My heart felt something that it never had felt before…


And so this is the reality of my life…
I am no longer free as we define freedom in our society…and yet I never felt more free in my entire life…a freedom that can only happenes as a result of a profound and deep unity.

I am past all the “could have been” and “wish I would have”…
He is in my life, he is MY LIFE…his presence, his love, his laughter and even his naughtiness and terrible two’s makes it ALL WORTH IT!

Lately...

Babies....

They are like little old souls despite their awkward way of holding head and their half smiles, and their lack of motor control and almost total absence of articulation...not counting the screams of course!

It seems like a lifetime ago that I looked into his eyes, smelled his hair, kissed every inch of his body and wondered how he was going to be like when he will be older...

But lately not a day goes by that I'm not clenching every muscles in my body and trying to hold back a rising flood of voice:

"Don't touch that. Please put that down. Be gentle, be very gentle my love. How about sitting still for a minute? You need to eat more, maybe one more bite?! OH NO!!! that Block is not for eating. Don't put that thing in your ear. How about not chewing on a paper? Don’t open your diaper please. I just made sure it is in its proper place. OH GOD! Be careful when you run. We look ahead when we walk. Don’t walk backward. You are going to hit the wall sweetie. Did you ask daddy’s permission before touching his cell phone? Mamma’s computer is not for you…and while we are at it, for sure garbage is not for touching. Hello there Mr., is that the letter “S” from your daddy’s keyboard? How did that happen? OK, it is time for TIME OUT!"

....And he just looks at me and gives a nutty smile and then pretend he does not hear me… or in the best scenario either he runs to the other direction faster than before or turns his adorable face and says “Who did this?” and then he wants me to “play” this game of “who did this?” and call all his stuffed animal friends and ask THEM who did this?…or just bring his finger up and says: “NO, NO, NO” and then laughs and runs!!!

Every night I just go through how many times I said:

DON'T DO THAT!

YOU MUST BE GENTLE!

NO! NO! NO!

STOP THAT NOW!

BE VERY CAREFUL!

THAT IS NOT A TOY!

TIME OUT!

And I lost count….and then I am filled with love, regret, guilt and LOST!

I read all these books, the ones that are suppose to be “THE BIBLES” for toddlers' behavior and their challenges…the ones that recommend this type of talk and that type of discipline…the ones that talk about “Terrible Two” and that it is not a myth and it might even starts from 12-14 months old…and at the end I realize most of them says nothing practical…

I mean it is in toddler’s nature to be curious and unpredictable and free…it is in their nature to just be attracted to ALL THE DANGERS…and I am not kidding about it.

What ever is a BIG NO, my little guy just loves it. We can enter a room and he can just pick all the danger spots for us within one minute….

The better half and I thought we were such a smart people when we paid an expert to come and go through our house up and down and let us know where we need baby proofing…and then we thought what an amazing investment it was to pay so much and do all that recommendations….and of course it brought down the element of danger - that's for sure, I am not denying it….but OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!! Leave it to my little boss to make a danger out of a simple walk!!!!

I am not kidding at all when I tell you that my son already knows the homeopathic remedy, "Arnica" - both the cream and the granules- so well....he even calls for it "Atia"!

I've heard it a million times: "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure."….Not that I do not agree with it, but in order to “prevent” a toddler, how many times a mother has to say “NOOOOOOOO” and how often the voice just goes one or two or even three volume up???

And then the cycle continues…the nightly guilt of: “What a bad mother I am?! Is there a magic way that I do not know about? I bet there is another way! I bet I am just not good enough!”