Daily routine of life

I am....

2009-08-17T01:04:00.003-04:00

I am just sad.

It is true that literally there is not a single moment of any day (or any night for that matter) passes by in which I am not busy with one or the other task. It is true that even as I am typing these words I can hear the squeaky sound of little boss’s bed and know at any minute his little angelic voice will say: “Momma, are you there?”. It is true that peaceful boss turned out to be anything but peaceful :)...I still think he is peaceful only a new definition of the word of course :):)
He is a little “extremely cute and utterly handful” baby; one of those that at 2:30 am wakes up just to make sure mamma remembers that sleep is not that big a deal but playing with his royal highness the prince of dimples are the priority over everything……

But none of the time consuming ordeals, none of the fatigue and exhaustion, none of anything in the daily routine of my life prevented me from visiting my blog. What prevented me was this utter sadness that is in my heart.

I am just sad. One of those sadness that makes one speechless....makes one empty inside... Don’t think that I am not talking during my days. On the contrary!

I talk so much that sometimes at the end of the day my facial muscles feel they were running a marathon. Anyone that is a mother of a toddler and a baby knows that words and conversing is endlessly delightful. Even if one is so sad. Well in all honesty that is what is the joy in this sadness, that is the sanity in this madness and the light in this darkens: My very bright and delightful, extremely curious and utterly adorable little boss as well as my extremely energetic, very demanding and attention seeking, unbelievably “cute - melting your heart” boss (well lets say that officially “peaceful” boss’s name should change to something else. The jury is still out on that one in my mind).

I still battle with PTSD…sometimes the battle is daily in my life. “Shadi”, my dear cyber friend, wrote me something in the comment section, which made me come back to my blog and write this post. She wrote: “How is the PTSD? you know, it still comes back to me but it is just normal. I am the host and it is a guest, visits me briefly and leaves”. Her poetic description made me think of the amazing possibility that human body has to heal one self….and the amazing taste of “hope”…hope that there will be a month in the future that my “peaceful” boss will become a month older and on that particular day I do not recall the memory of him in the Sick Kids hospital but instead I would remember the blissful memory of giving birth to him….

My little friendly balloon is still very much up there, or in there or is in there somewhere….and still I am possibly the only person that love it more than hate it….which is another stamp in my insanity among my close circle of loved ones…..

I still experience some excruciating painful physical symptoms that sometimes can take my breath away…literally and metaphorically!

But neither the big scary PTSD nor the little red balloon….neither the fatigue nor the lack of time… none of the above mentioned details prevented me from coming to this blog. This deep sadness prevented me from writing anything. The type of sadness that sucked away all the words in my vocabulary repertory….and believe me I am a person with many words in a few different languages!

I am sad at this world that we live in. I am sad by it, with it and from it….what ever the proper grammar combination can be. These days I even rarely visit my usual TV news programs. I mean they gave me the good dose of reality a few weeks ago:

In a world that people are dying from hunger or so many man made and non man made diseases, in a world that people are trying so hard to get back what ever left of their dignity as human beings, in a world that people are drowning and gasping for one breath of “free” air, in a world that people are being raped and tortured and killed all over the place, in a world that everyone are slaves one way or another…in this beautiful ugly world of ours…we turn on the TV and the top breaking news for days after days is no other than Michael Jackson!

Well what can I say?
Maybe sadness is not the correct word after all. Maybe what I feel is total detachment from “this” reality we call our world!

Sorry my dear blog. I know you were looking for a better update of my daily routin of life but….I am sad, I am mad and I am everything in between….

The clock is ticking….

2009-06-05T15:33:00.007-04:00

A personal note to my dear “Fire and Nava”:

I thought long and hard before writing this post, to share what I am about to share with the cyber world. This news is something that so far I only chose to share with my better half, my parents and one very close friend. I fully trust two of you and the fact that this will stay between us. That was not the reason for my contemplation….far from it! I was not sure whether I want to bring this pain to your doorsteps, and I knew you are going to read the post sooner or later… for making you aware of all this I am very sorry my dear dear friends…my trust worthy, kind friends in cyber world and in the other one….

In “Veronica decides to die” he writes:
“An awareness of death encourages us to live more intensely”.

Well I am experiencing this sentence in last 48 hours….In last precious 48 hours that I came to “know” that in fact my clock is ticking…..like all of us!

Living with PTSD put all the other ailments in back seat for me. The fact that I was experiencing very alarming symptoms in last few months was not really important to me. But my sweet doctor really was insisting that we need to do some tests…and one test lead to another and finally I ended up with an urgent appointment with a neurologist!

A series of nerve conducting tests and elimination of some possibly scary diagnosis…

And finally of course with the urgent requisition of both my family doctor and the specialist, I landed at MRI doorsteps…“MRI of brain”.

Other than my better half and my parents; my close friend was also involved in this process. She was the one that came with me for MRI as I did not want better half disrupt the night routine of the kids – did you know the hospitals do MRI sometimes 24 hours a day??-

On the way to the hospital we were joking that they are going to finally find out the truth…that there is no brain in my skull…we were trying to ignore the scary possibilities. After all we both are homeopathic doctors and very well aware of “what if”s…

The reality is that I went through all these process from the beginning to the end, with a detached feeling. A detachment that was coming from experiencing my personal hell called: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
I could care less doing any or all of these tests. I did it mostly to put my better half’s mind at ease. For me, I already had a hellish diagnosis that was eating me alive; minute by minute, day after day, night after night….

48 hours ago my doctor “needed” to see me urgently. The result of MRI was in…My immediate thought was “Oh shit! I guess it is serious”. On the way to her office I was only praying for whatever it is, may it NOT be MS. Few years ago I had a successful experience in treating couple of MS cases. They talked about homeopathy and me in their support group and as a result of that suddenly I had lots of MS patients as well as their families. The thought of making my loved ones going through life and seeing me deteriorate like that is truly the one of the worst fears of my life…The thought of them…the thought of them…

I walked into her office and she tells me: “well the good news is that it is not MS or a tumor”….and then she pauses…“Unfortunately it is something that we did not expect. There is an aneurism in your brain. It is at the base of cerebral, toward the right lobe….as you know it is a serious diagnosis. I want to send you for a MRA to get a better information of the type of aneurism, the extend of it as well as the possibility of developing it in other location of the brain…[the general rule is that when one develops an aneurism, that indicated fragile vessels in the brain and higher possibility of developing it again]

“Why do I have to get an MRA? I mean what is more to know? A cerebral aneurism is what they call “a ticking bomb”. At any second my “ballooning vessel” can burst and I die…as simple as that. I am very well aware of how serious the issue is. I am also aware that this balloon can get bigger and bigger as we are speaking. But let’s face it. Part of the seriousness is that the ONLY treatment that you can offer is surgery and as you yourself know, the danger of brain surgery is so high that ultimately the patient has to choose between the danger of dying as a result of rupture or the danger of dying during the surgery…or the danger of becoming a vegetable after surgery…”

She agreed with me…how could she not? But after a long discussion, I agreed to go ahead with MRA…to go ahead and “monitor” the situation….after all that is what “the procedure” is for brain aneurism…

Well I am aware of this little balloon in my head for last 48 hours and “I AM LOVING IT”…This sentence alone is more scary diagnosis these days than any other MD labels, ha?

I mean in this day and age being “crazy” and have different views is a serious illness. Isn’t it?

But I will tell you why I think this balloon is a gift from divine…
Miraculously, from the moment that I found about this, a heavy load was lifted from my heart. It is as if PTSD is away on a coffee brake. I mean I do have my physical symptoms and particularly the ongoing headache is excruciatingly painful – and very alarming for my doctor. I don’t mean life is now peachy…by no means. What I mean is this: last night little boss sneezed in his sleep and my heart did not jump out of my chest, I did not run to check his temperature. This morning peaceful boss had a stuffy nose. I just simply cleaned it and did not hear the alarming sound of the hospital monitor. I drove today to bring little boss back home from school and I was looking at the trees and their beautiful green color with a new sharp view, a crispy sensation….

I admit, I am scared that the PTSD will come back at any moment…that its coffee brake will be over and I will be in that hospital room again, frozen with fear for my loved ones…but what if the scary PTSD is scared of my balloon? Do you know what I mean? What if I finally realized what we all have to realize…:
“A miracle happened: another day of life”.

I mean I might very well die from a car accident, or live to be 100 and even then not die from the bursting of my balloon…but in any case, what would I answer to this question: “did I live, or did I LIVE?”

Maybe I am in denial…Maybe all this “sort of a truce and peace” will end soon and maybe I will get into the panic of “I am dying” and “what if I die now” and “what about my kids” and “why and why and why”…or maybe, just maybe this new found wisdom stays with me until I meet the angel of death…one way or another!

Well my dear cyber world…my clock is ticking…so is yours. I just get the blessing to know about it before it is too late. After all:
“An awareness of death encourages us to live more intensely”.

You asked me how I am... (Part 1)

2009-05-24T14:07:00.006-04:00

He asks me “where is mommy? Where is mommy?” and by now I know the rule of his game so well…there is only one acceptable answer: “I don’t know. Where is she?”…and that is when my little boss takes a deep breath, giggles loud, jump right into my arms and screams: “

“Here she is”…

I laugh with him, hold him tight and feel amazing while he makes himself comfortable in my arms with his legs resting on my hips, those adorable legs cradling me from sides, shielding me from the world around….while EVERYTIME that we play this favorite game of his (and it can be 10 times a day), I think to myself:

“Oh my baby boy, my sweet love, these days I really wonder where mommy is…”

I guess it is official….

2009-04-24T11:10:00.005-04:00

She says:
“I am afraid you are going through PTSD….all the classic signs and I know you are very familiar with it.” I can detect the sympathy tone in her voice, a tone that doctors don’t usually have time for it….

Of course she knows I am very familiar with the condition. After all she referred few of her patients to me in past few years, in order for me to help them with the exact same diagnosis….

We joke about the desire that all MD have to label conditions and categorize them…a security blanket of some sort I guess and then we look at each other in silence, me and this sweet doctor of mine. In last 10 years we came a very long way. We both came to trust and respect each other, especially as two health care professionals that by definition believe in two opposite school of thoughts.

The first time I walked in her office, head high and proud and told her I am there because I have to have a family physician in order to live in this society…at least for some annual tests and all. She looked at my chart and said: “Oh you are a homeopathic doctor I see!”….we joked about that initial contact many times after that. She came to respect my knowledge and expertise in my field so much to refer patients to me – something that MD rarely admit even if they believe in! ….And I came to trust her open-mindedness so much to make her our family doctor in every sense of the word…She became my precious angels’ doctor!

Now we sit in the silence of her office. She specifically booked me at her lunch brake and I am uncomfortably aware that she is spending way too much of her well deserved lunch brake with me. The office is totally quiet. She talks about the options and I talk about my opinions….

I walk out the office. I can feel the fresh spring breeze on my face. I look around. It feels like everything is in slow motion in the world that I live in. That is the world that I live in for some time now. I notice the fresh green leaves on some of the bushes and I have to mentally remind myself that I like this fresh green and this time of the year….

The sound of children and their laughter come from the green field beside the parking lot. I turn and look at them and yet I can not see them….I walk toward my car and later I realized the drops of tears were running down my cheeks. I am in this world and yet I am not….I am still in that hospital room, looking at the monitor and hearing nothing but the alarming beep of low oxygen level and the labored breath of my angel…..

It sounds like a broken record to everyone that does not FEEL what I am talking about. It is after all my broken record. Well I actually NEVER talk about what I am going through. Almost no one knows. I look the same to everyone except to my better half. He knows. He does not need words to know the deep hell that his love of life goes through….he knows….

Life goes on…does it? I wonder sometimes…..

Until....

2009-03-21T15:55:00.013-04:00

A Note: Words run away from me every time that I want to express myself. Words are no longer my friends in any languages that I know. I am still very much drowned in my memories and feelings. Sometimes very afraid to open any window to the daily routine of life....and yet daily routine of life continues and I go through the acts and carry the fear, panic and anxieties...carry the exhaustion and fatigue…carry the hidden tears and silenced screams...But I ALSO CARRY THE LOVE, THE NEVER ENDING LOVE...and that will bring me out of this cave...one day...one day....

Until that day (may it be in very near future or in very distant one), this is for you my peaceful boss...You also like me are in search of your peacefulness after those traumatic weeks...

You have no idea how much mamma loves you

Somewhere i have never travelled

By E. E. Cummings

Somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

any experience, your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me

though i have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens

(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and

my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals

the power of your intense fragility: whose texture

compels me with the color of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens; only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Wake me up…

2009-02-22T21:02:00.010-05:00

Less than 24 hours before all these events, I wrote a reply for Parinaz in my comment box.

I did not know how soon I will be tested in my belief in those words…

“Pleasure is a gift of destiny

That reveals its value in the present,

While suffering is a source of insight

Whose significance will become evident in the future.”

What a curse it is to know…what a curse it is….
…
…

He was refusing to be fed, the better half was blaming it on his stuffy nose that he had in last 12 hours and was trying to wipe off the anxious look from my face… my mother was trying to calm me down by telling me that “kids catch cold…as a mother you have to get used to it”…and I was like a bird in a cage hitting myself to the walls, trying anything and everything…in all honesty the mother intuition is something else. I knew something was not right. Don’t ask me why because at that point of time, he did not have ANY other symptom other than stuffy nose and bad eating….I on the other hand was checking his fontanels, counting the number of hours since his last wet diaper, checking to see any sign of blueness around his mouth and nose…

Then suddenly I could not breathe anymore. I was gasping for air… and that is when I stood up, put him in his cradle and started packing his diaper bag and told my better half with a factual tone: “We are going to the…hospital right now” (a very well known and reputable children hospital)…I ignored the look of shock on everyone’s face. My mother tried to protest: “but he is just having a cold” and my better half tried to calm me down: “That hospital is for serious cases and is in downtown, very far away. Do you want us to go to a walk in clinic considering that it is weekend and his doctor is not in the office? That will be quicker you know”…and I did not hear anything. I was not hearing anything other than his breath….. “I am ready. We go to that hospital. TRUST ME ON THIS”. My better half looked at me and right then and there I knew he got my anxiety. Anxiety is indeed contagious. He did not say a word after that. But he knew that I KNOW….
….
….

The drive to the hospital was LONG and peaceful boss was indeed peaceful. Just before turning into the emergency entrance, he opened his eyes and started crying, it was a weak and heart braking cry. I think he sensed the hell that was waiting for him.

Better half dropped us in front of the ER entrance: “You go in and I will park and come”…and I picked up the car seat and the diaper bag and looked at him through the mirror: “please hurry up”….
…
…
The triage nurse asked me his symptoms and I described them for her. Her first question: “Are you in medical field?” and my blank look….then she said: “It is probably just a cold” and I cut her right there: “It is not JUST a cold. You need to check him up immediately. In last 10 minutes waiting here, his pattern of breathing is changed. I need you to check him up IMMEDIATELY”. From the corner of my eyes I could see the shock on my better half’s face. I think my raised voice made both of them jump. She took my poor tiny baby and made him naked. Temp: 37.7 (the nurse said “it is not a fever” and I am thinking but he did not have this temp at home. Things were progressing quickly and that is not a good sign)…and then she hooked him to the monitor to check the vitals and the horrible alarm went off, the alarm that I heard its noise million times over and over in the next two weeks that followed and yet every time it induced the same initial shocking effect on my heart and soul…my better half asked me with a shaky voice: “what is happening?” and I with a face like a statue replied “His oxygen level is low”. And the nurse tried to sound reassuring “It can be because of the stuffy nose” and I replied “not when it is this low”…..

It is a curse to know…it is a curse to know….

…..
…..

They gave us a room in the ER, not a bed or a cubical but a room. The doctor walked in and I read her tag and said to myself: “not a resident or a fellow but the chief doctor in ER”….She started reviewing the case as the triage nurse had it half an hour ago. I stopped her and corrected few things as the symptoms changed dramatically in last half an hour. “I think you should check his Temp again. He is burning to my lips. Also his breathing is very irregular, he developed indrawing of the chest and head bobbing while we were waiting and he started coughing in last half an hour”….He indeed had a fever this time, a high fever. His Oxygen level was lower than before and his breathing and heart rate was extremely fast.

What came after was a series of nightmares one after anther. They took blood culture from his tiny hands and feet, nose swap for viruses, Catheter for urinary track infection, Chest X-ray three different times and LP test (spinal tap) to rule out meningitis. They put an iv on his left hand and in the process of next two weeks his right hand and his two feet went through similar fate.

I refused to leave the room for any of the tests. They told me it is difficult for the parents to watch and I stood there, kneeled beside his bed, touching the spot on his forehead that I knew calms him down, whispering to his ears and watched. Better half also did not leave the room but most of the time he had to turn his back and face the wall; he had tears in his eyes and clenching his fists. I on the other hand could not allow myself to cry. I needed for peaceful boss to look in his mommy’s eyes and see the strength and yet million times in the days and nights that followed I wondered “where is my River Piedra so that I sit by it and weep?”

….
….
….

It turned out that the peaceful boss got the respiratory track viral infection called RSV. He was admitted to the same well known hospital and that alone made better half and everyone else in our circle of friends and family realize what a serious condition we are dealing with, mostly because this hospital admits serious conditions and transfers the rest to other pediatrician wards.

I came to learn that apparently this is the nasty virus that is lingering around since November and caused the major prolonged cold/flu in community since then. The doctors told me that it causes a tough cold in adult, a nasty one in kids with prolonged cough for 2-3 weeks recovery and a deadly one in babies younger than 6 months old….peaceful boss was only 3 weeks old!

They told us that the chances are that we know 3 out of 5 people around us that had this nasty cold in past few months…and we did know. We were part of that statistic ourselves!

But my baby was only 3 weeks old….that was what I was repeating to myself…..

They told me he will get worse before he gets better (that is the course of the virus itself) and every time that a nurse or a doctor walked in our room and told me this, I shook my head and said “Worse than this?” and they looked sympathetic and said “unfortunately yes!”

They put us in the level 2 isolation. There was a procedure of walking in our room involving mask and gown and gloves….they gave me the option of having the mask inside or else, anytime that I walk out I have to have the wired looking mask on my face and mouth. I refused to have the mask inside the room. I needed for my baby to see my face in the middle of all this madness….and the reality was that the room had the washroom and shower so there was absolutely no need for me to leave the room. I was not planning to leave him alone even for one minute. I had the intense fear that if I do not watch him even for one second, he will go away and I will loose him….

So my very long days and nights began. I lost track of what time or date it is and the only connection to outside world was 5-6 times phone calls to little boss. In order to talk to him, I would go toward the window and look at the busy street of down town with my back to peaceful boss and I would talk to little boss, sing for him, laugh with him, make him laugh and listen to him repeating at the end of each phone call “Where are you mommy? Come mommy…I want mommy” and I would try to explain to him about his brother have a boo boo and we will come home soon…..and then hold my tears as I would listen to my little boss’s angelic voice or to my peaceful boss’s broken breath….

….
….

And then it was that dreadful night, less than 48 hours after the ER scene…when better half walked out our room to get some ice for us. I was trying to breath for my son. The doctor looked at me and said “I know you are in medical field so as one professional to the other I have to tell you tonight will be the worst probably….and if we have to put a tube for him to breath, I am not sure what will be his chances of survival”…I did not cry, I did not blink, I just looked at my baby. I gave birth to him only three weeks ago across the same street in another well known hospital. What would I have done differently then if I knew that three weeks from that blissful moment I will hear these words?

I replied “I will hold him. I will not move at all so this way no disturbance for your tubes and oxygen mask, but he will stay in my arms from now on”….I did not ask, I did not ask for permission, I said it in a matter of fact and she agreed with me in a matter of fact…..

That night was the worst night of my life….a worst hell in a middle of hellish days and nights that followed. I was so happy that better half was not in the room when she told me this. I talked about those words with him, only when we came back home…while we were bending over our son’s cradle and watching his peaceful face.
….
…
What followed after was one nightmare after another….I wondered million times that whether I was really awake or I was in the middle of a nightmare…I begged all the Gods in the universe that please wake me up, pleases wake me up…no answer. Indeed that nightmare was the reality of my days and nights.

Little by little he started to breath without oxygen mask. As a result of all the oxygen tubes and the tapes that kept them on its place, his amazing smooth skin developed rash on his cheeks. As a result of Epinephrine and Ventalin masks his face became puffy and his eye lids were swollen and red….and yet none of them matched his weak cry. He was tired. His cry was no longer loud or angry because of all the poking and pain…and that brought the fear of lifetime to my heart. I used to whisper in his ears over and over “I do not allow you to leave me. I need you to fight and hang in there. This will pass my angel”.
…
….
And it did pass. It is now little more than 48 hours that we are home. He is weak and lost a LOT of weight. But he is breathing and drinking….

I on the other hand….well still with every blink of an eye I have the play back of one of the many hellish scenes. Before these two weeks I always thought I had episodes of being in hell in my life. Needless to say that I did not know hell has many many levels and one of the lowest one is the fear of a mother fighting for her child’s life. In one of the last days of our stay in the hospital, the better half tried to make me leave the room I guess for my sanity. So he told me about the toy stores that are in the atrium of the hospital. He was explaining it to me that what a beautiful Shopping mall for the kids and their parents it is….my thought went to little boss and I thought it is better for us to get him something as a gift from his brother since mommy and peaceful boss was away constantly for two weeks. So I left the room for a total of 30 minutes. I think that 30 minutes gave me the lesson of life times. In the atrium they were kids with iv attached to them, lost hair and very weak with bright eyes; cancer patients, transplant paints…and I was thinking why I forgot about the pain of all the mothers? When did I move to la la land?...and then I noticed the face of their parents, being exhausted and yet so passionately looking at their children…and in all their eyes the terror and shock was obvious…and the face of the children believe it or not was happy. Indeed children are resilient.
…
…
We are home but I am still in that room. I wonder when will be the time that every cough or sneeze or loud breathe doesn’t make my heart go faster? I wonder when will I be free from those images or the sound of monitor alarming a low oxygen level, rapid heart rate or irregular breathing? I wonder when will I loose the numb look in my eyes? I wonder when will I smile and fear won’t be part of that smile? I wonder…..

I am scared, I am tired…there is only one tiny line between having someone and loosing them. There is only one second between peace and chaos. There is only one blink of an eye between hope and despair….

I wonder can writing this experience take some of my burdens away? Can I use this post as a therapy?

I think of the lesson in all that maddness....
I wonder what ever the lesson was, did I learn it?
I wonder….

I wonder….

The SHOCK....

2009-01-28T21:01:00.003-05:00

He was sleeping in his crib when we arrived from the hospital. They discharged us in the evening and the drive home was long and slippery!

We came in, bringing our little baby boy home for the first time....

I asked Oma “Is he sleeping?” and my mom replied “Yes, he is.” and I felt an ache in my heart. I wanted to fly to his room and touch him but little peaceful boss really was hungry and TRULY was patient during the LONG drive home. So I had to tend to his need first.

After that I still did not want to go to little boss’s room. I needed to take a shower and clean myself. That was possibly one of the quickest showers in the history – and trust me when I tell you that I learned to take very quick showers since I became a mother, something that was very difficult for me to give up as I LOVE water and its sensation on my body.

So with my bath robe on and water dripping from my body I walked into his room. The familiar aroma welcomed me immediately. I took it all in. It was the smell of my little boss. From the corner of my eyes I could see one of his favorite books on the floor and I could hear his delicate voice imitating the poem for me: “Mommy sing it again: Wynken, Blynken and Nod…”

I hold my breath in and bent down and looked into his crib. There, in the dark, was he, my first born. Tangled in his blankets, head on his favorite teddy bear and feet out…sweaty and all.

And there it was...the deep shock: “Where did my baby go? I was away for only couple of days and he is grown up so much?”

I had tears in my eyes. He was grown up. Was it possible that he was so changed in couple of days or the fact that I had a newborn baby in my arms for last 48 hours made everything looked bigger?!

A friend of mine wrote an email to me a week prior to this: “when you change your first newborn diaper you will realize for the first time that your toddler is no longer a baby and is grown up so much.” I read it and did not think of it that much. Now I had tears in my eyes.

Where did my baby go? I was not looking at him ONLY for two days of his life and look how much I missed!

I bent over the rail and touched his curly hairs, use all my self control not to wake him up with the tsunami of the kisses that was in my heart. Every muscle of my body was aching for a hug and cuddle.

I only looked at him and whispered to him in my heart.

I told him about the big surprise that he will have when he wakes up tomorrow morning, that his brother also brought him a present that I am really sure he will love, that mommy is so worried about the changes that he has to go through, that sometimes mommy asks herself that was this the right timing and is there any right timing for this type of lessons in life?

I told him that although he has a turbulent time ahead of him, giving him a sibling was the best thing that mommy and daddy could do for him...and he better trust me on that because I know what does it mean to be the only child....

...
...

And then the tears ran down my face. I was crying so intensely....I whispered to him that how I love him and adore him and how much I miss him. That how every touch of his brother cheek against my breasts brings a memory of him to me. That how every suck and newborn skin against my skin makes my heart burst with love for the peaceful boss and yearn deeply for the little boss.

I told him the story of the last 48 hours, things that I might never actually tell him…I told him about how he gave his little brother the best gift of all: a better version of his mother…and I told him that how much my love for the peaceful boss made my love for little boss grows and grows and grows….

…
…

And my heart ached for my baby, my little boss…..

...
...

I came out of his room and my red nose and watery eyes made my mother worried. I told her: “He grew up so much. Even his feet are bigger”…and Oma looked at me as if she is looking at a mad woman – although in all honesty she is really used to my madness by now – and replied: “He is exactly the same. Nothing is changed in last 48 hours”….and I replied: “Oh mom, everything is changed!”

…
…

He is still every inch my baby, a big baby but still my baby. In the quiet and dark of the night, he is no longer a toddler seeking for his independency, no longer a little boy aching to be a big boy, no longer a big brother struggling to share his mamma, he is only my baby….soft and vulnerable and in need of me…always in need of me.

Oh how I am thankful for him and his little brother….

The first lesson...

2009-01-24T16:57:00.000-05:00

He was in our bed. Some times around midnight my pregnant body did not allow me anymore to sleep under his crib and his fever was not allowing my anxious heart to leave him alone….so we moved him to our big bed. In the middle of our bed, his body looked even smaller than usual…a few hours after that his forehead touched my face and I kissed it and guessed that fever is broken…I vividly remember what I whispered to myself: “Maybe I can get couple of hours of sleep now”…and what came after that was a surprise to me: a sharp pain that took my breath away…

By now I am convinced that no matter how many times a woman went through labor, the initiation of the whole procedure is always a surprise and shock for her…and indeed it was a surprise for me. I tried to deny it just for the sake of some sleep, but no such luck!
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I was bending double with my contraction pains over little boss’s sleeping body to see my baby one last time before I go to the hospital…my body made a bridge over his tiny little one. …I knew the next time that I will see him, our lives as we knew and got used to it will be over and a new one will start….

The contractions were getting closer and the pain was sharper than ever and yet I could not make myself to leave his side. In last 48 hours he had fever and although the fever broke just before my contraction started, still I could see the exhausted state in his body’s posture.

At that time I did not know but when I came back from the hospital I saw the tiny sharp tip of the last second molar. My son was teething his last second molar. We had this teething discomfort for the last 2 months with each and every second molar…little boss who normally did not have any discomfort with other 16 teeth, went through a lot of pain with these last 4. It was really ironic for me. In many anthropology studies of different cultures, teething is considered as a right of passage. Little boss was going through the last step of one of his right of passages as mommy was going to deliver his little brother to this world. In a way he was maturing, body and soul!

Mommy on the other hand was torn apart. I knew very well that I don’t have that much time, especially with my record of fast labor and the long drive to the hospital. On the other hand, how could I leave him, even though I knew Oma and Opa will take the best care of him…still no one is a mother especially when you are in pain!

I myself called for my mother couple of hours after in my delivery room…indeed no one is one’s mother….

Right at that moment when I was thinking of how much more time I can stay at home, a sharp pain took my breath away. The angel on his way was giving me a signal that he also needs me…..

I kissed little boss’s sweaty head and swallowed my tears and left the room….
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Peaceful boss entered this world and the moment was extraordinary and magical. After little boss I never thought I will experience such an intensity of love and bliss…but I did. It was not like what I experienced with little boss and still it was equally magical and blissful beyond explanation. I was more mature than the first time, I already explored new depth of love and “in love”ness all thanks to little boss. In a way that is his gift to his little brother: a more mature and experienced mother, who knows much more about love and loving than the first time!

In those initial moments I was only consumed with my peaceful boss. The world around us did not exist. We were together somewhere in the universe and I could not hear, see or smell anything but him….and then I came down from heaven to our planet earth… still in the labor room and still swimming in the miracle that just happened and yet my mind and heart started to ache for the other one simultaneously. I was already missing my little boss and his delicate chat and also I was unbelievably worried for him.

It was such an ambivalence of feelings: the bliss and total happiness on one side and anxiety and achiness of heart on the other side. My better half, not knowing what is happening in my psyche, picked up the phone to call Oma and Opa to let them know all went well and I whispered to him: “First ask how is little boss? Does he have fever? How did he wake up?....”
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This is how I got the first lesson of being a mother of two….I learned that as long as I live my heart will beat in two places; that my soul will be spontaneously in two places at any given moment; that even if my body will not be with both of them or either of them still my mind, my heart and my soul will be with both….

It is a strange kind of unity, a unity that comes from division. I guess that is the ultimate meaning of totality……

And this is what my peaceful boss taught me with his first breath….

Our baby angel arrived….

2009-01-18T16:23:00.001-05:00

He is here and he is perfect and he already taught me a big lesson in life…that one can be in love at every second of her life with all her heart and soul…with more than one person!

I never thought I will ever love anyone the way that I love little boss…well live and learn my friend, live and learn!

The moment that I hold his naked body on my chest, I knew I am head over hill in love with him…with a little baby so delicate and precious…so angelic…

It is totally beyond imagination the description of the two grate love that are equal and yet not equal because after all these two individuals are so different…and believe me they are.

It is also interesting how one can feel happy and joyful when every part of her body is in pain…a pain as if being broken in pieces…a kind of pain that only a natural birth can leaves behind for a while…..

Our new arrival is not even a week old and still one can see the mind blowing individuality in the two brothers, the difference in their bodies and personalities…

So while I am still searching for a proper cyber name for my new arrival, I am tempted to call him for the time being “peaceful boss”….He really is!

Little boss took my breath away with his amazing reaction to the existence of his new brother outside of “the belly”. It really is worthy of a whole new entry. But just for now let me say my kind and emotional little boss loves his brother and showers him with shy kisses…and then once in a while you see the dilemma that goes on in his tiny generous heart: “He would have LOVED to have peaceful boss with him twenty four seven, if only somehow he did not have to share mommy with him or with anyone else for that matter”…..He is learning a big lesson and I am learning it with him. The whole dimension of sharing is as new to me as to my little boss. After all I am the only child and do not know what it means to have a sibling with all its pains and gains……

But life is a good teacher….

Life these days is beautiful, lovely, chaotic, hectic, energy consuming, very confusing and yet blissfully magical in our little household….. I will write more when some time comes in my way in my daily routine of life…will I ever have a routine of life again? I wonder….

Me and a piece of clay

2008-12-26T20:40:00.009-05:00

A note: Dear “A reader”, you asked a question in your last comment and I thought instead of writing couple of sentences in the comment box, I better tell you the whole story. I appreciate you and everyone that come and visit me here…I especially appreciate all of you that leave your footprints behind. Thank you!

Little boss picks up one of the biggest pieces of his wooden blocks and put it on his shoulder and tries to keep it there with the help of his neck and little chin. He looks at me and says: “Mamma look, I play Violin”….and then he starts tapping on the block with his tiny fingers and starts imitating with his mouth part of the tune from Mozart Violin Concerto 5 and then somehow switches to the tune of “in the jungle the mighty jungle the lions sleeps tonight”….

He does not know what he is doing. He is not even aware of the two tunes being separate pieces of art in technique. He just likes both of them. He heard the Violin concerto on mommy’s ipod (and is on the list of his favorite and that means we listen to it over and over) and the “jungle and lion” – as he calls it- somehow was sang to him as a silly song by mommy and daddy since he was a little baby. He looks at me all the time and I am sure he can see the absolute delight look on my face. I tell him: “Do you want mommy to accompany you with the Piano?”…his immediate response: “No mamma, do it with Maracas”…and give me his Maracas toy. Considering the fact that I played Piano since I was 5 years old, I am very good at carrying any rhythm with almost anything, but you have to admit it is little amusing to add the touch of south American native instrument to the famous Violin Concerto 5!

The game is over and he moves on to the next object of his desire and I….I move on to one of the many choirs of the day while I am deeply occupied with my thoughts about the concept of “hobby”….

Have you ever thought of how and when a person starts picking up something that can be called his hobby?
You can say a lot about someone’s personality by the hobby or hobbies that they have….but every time that I use this method and line of questioning during case taking in my practice, I also consider and keep in mind that when and how they chose their hobbies.

I mean was it really chosen by them or for them?

I play Piano almost all my life. I still can remember being in front of the Piano with my legs swinging on the bench and far away from the ground. But one thing that I am certain of, Piano is chosen for me. My mother loves the instrument and apparently was her favorite all through childhood and teenage years….so somewhere in that love affair it was only natural for her to want that for her daughter….

Well while according to every instructor that I had – and some of them were famous names- I was really good and talented at playing piano, I have to say I hated it….I hated it until I was in my late teenage years when I realized I did not hate the music and piano only the performance in front of every one or anyone. So one day in my very early 20’s I decided “that is the end of that” and I ONLY play for myself…I think it broke my mom’s heart but that was not something I was about to compromise.

So can playing Piano be considered as one of my hobbies? I highly doubt that.

The same is with down hill skiing. That was my father’s choice (he is really semi professional in that one) and I was only 4-5 years old. I am really good at it too and I did not mind doing it although I was not really passionate about the whole ordeal. Somehow couple of years ago I decided that I really don’t want to go for down hill skiing and maybe I start cross country…..

The list of the things that can be considered as my “hobby” can go on and on…and in front of each and every one of them the influence of my parents (either their direct choice despite my resistance or high influence the type that only a parent has on a child) can be obvious….until a few years ago…

A few years ago I went through a period of my life that was incredibly difficult, hellish and painful. Now that I look back I can see the whole ordeal like an alchemical chamber where under sever pressure and heat the metals go through purification…
Purify? I am not sure how much I became purified but I can say with absolute certainty that I learned so much about my true self, life and love. Some aspect of me as a being totally got destroyed and I rebuilt it brick by brick…..It was truly a “Saturn return” in my personal chart :)

During that time I started some new adventures - Mythology, Astrology and Alchemy was part of that. Interestingly no one was surprised by my new choices of “hobbies” and apparently they were along the same line of their “perception” of me…..Until I stumble upon sculpting with clay…

Well it is safe to say that apart from my better half and my homeopath everyone was shocked that I am working with clay! I still can remember the surprise in my parents voice when they heard of “the new thing”, they were extremely supportive but never the less surprised…my dad even told me that don’t I want to try the pottery wheel instead of sculpting? I was actually not surprised by his suggestions. Pottery wheel is more within a boundary, which fits his personality so much better.

I still can recall how everything started. I remember in those days I used to see patients from 8 am to 8 pm and there was really not that much else to do. One day in a conversation with a friend, she told me she was working on a piece of sculpture and she really wanted me to see it considering that she believed it was in the line of her therapeutic road. I asked her about it and she told me about this place that she goes to work with clay and makes sculpture and she started it couple of months ago following the whole ordeal of her breast cancer and all that she went through. We made a plan and I went with her mostly to see her work and still I can recall my first encounter with the place and its energy.

It was a studio in the basement of a building with no sign or flashy advertisement. You walk in and the immediate feeling is damp and earth…“the raw encounter with life”; I vividly remember that was what I thought.

On one side there are rows of pottery wheels and on the other side the spacious tables for making sculpture with hand and clay. Not that much order, lots of dust, huge sinks and heating chambers for the works….
There is no class for sculpting in the sense that class is being known to people – there were regular classes for pottery with wheel. But if one wants, there are few artists that work there regularly and you can go and start your work and ask them to teach you some essential techniques and sort of hiring them as your instructor per hour on the side line…but they only teach you techniques and the real work is what you do and what you wish….You purchase the clay each time and a fee for using the equipments and utility. The owner was not really into business aspect of the whole ordeal and the place was more for the gathering of already artists as oppose to “classes” and all….

That was one of the quickest decisions that I made in my life. I decided then and there that half a day every week I will go there and work with the clay. I was not really attracted to the pottery wheel and the concept of free work was so much more alluring for me. At the same time I did not even know what am I going to do…what am I going to expect….what does it really mean to work with a piece of clay and create a sculpture?

In all honesty the whole experience was a very cathartic one for me, a therapeutic experience in a very fragile time of my life, in a time that I was building myself and my life piece by piece. I believe NOTHING is by accident and things come to one's road just at the right moment for the right purpose…I call it divine timing and divine reason…who am I to understand when and why it happens exactly at that time?!

Well that is how my Wednesdays started to become... The first day there, I chose a nice lady that was working on her stuff to guide me when and where I needed it. She was a very interesting Korean lady and just by looking at her you could feel the presence of grief in her being. Later on I came to appreciate her extremely silent being and ultra respectful manner in the choices of her circle of students. She would teach few of us the essential technique or terminology that one needs – like any other art- but it was really the whole trial and error method. In order for me to understand those techniques the first day was mostly creating some ordinary stuff….the usual and basics. But even with those ordinary pieces of bowels and vases (which now are in my better half’s home office like extremely valuable Venetian pieces) I had an incredible feeling upon touching the clay.

After that session I chose what I wanted to make and she NEVER, not even once, told me that it is beyond my reach or I am not ready for it. She was actually very interested in my very mythological choices of topic. There were times – many times- that I did not even know where should I begin and she introduced me to the concept of sketching of the vision….she would give few suggestions of where one can begin and then would go to her own station and work. There was not that much talking in the studio. When you are working with clay, the whole conversation is between you and that beautiful piece of raw material.

A piece of clay has a sensational feeling under ones’ fingers and hands. There were times that it reminded me of a horse and the rest of the times, it just reminded me of nothing that I ever knew before. Horses also need tremendous respect. In their presence you better remember the respect that their dignified beings deserve or without the respect there will not be any cooperation.

A piece of clay might bend under your wet fingerers and palms, but there is spirit in it that is present at all time, a spirit that needs your respect and cooperation in order to listen to you to shape….and even while it is shaping to your vision and perception, there is always his / her soul present every step of the way.

It is very interesting for me that among everything else in this universe, in Islamic Irfan and mysticism (not Sufism but Irfan), there is the mythology of “God created Adam from a piece of clay and then blow his holy breathe in it and it came alive”. This simple myth says so much about the belief in general. It always created a sense of respect in me toward that particular spiritual path.

Since little boss was born, I rarely had a chance to go there. It is truly difficult to make a set schedule when one is a mother of a baby or a toddler for that matter (especially when there is no relative living where you live!)…and with sculpting you can not just go one week and then don’t go for few weeks. The work needs some kind of persistency, at least each work in the duration of creation. I miss it very much; I miss the energy of that silence, the power of clay and the voice of people’s creation. There are times that I feel I just drop by and see what is going on and interestingly always something comes up….that place is not for “just drop by”….

Above all a piece of unshaped clay showed me how to have patience…the fact that life is so unpredictable even when you plan everything and use all the techniques correctly…especially when you think you are in control that is the moment that all things go out of control.

The unshaped clay taught me that being in control sometimes is the worst thing for the flow of creation and therefore flow of life, that most of the time one needs to shut the mind and let the heart just be….that the respect for every THING in this world is an absolute must….that life is beautiful even when things go wrong….that there are times that you make everything “beautiful” and “perfect” but in the heat of the heating station the fragile piece of beauty can not last and will be broken to pieces and there is nothing you can do…after all that was the nature of that piece. You can mourn the loss and time and energy but ultimately you can only start from the scratch and do it again and again and again…and that is JUST LIFE.

It is truly an awe moment when the final work comes out of the heating station (and especially if you are lucky enough that the work is not broken or damaged). The initial reaction is always “not exactly turned out like my perception”, or “the glazing is so much different from what I saw in other pieces”… and then you look and “see” there are aspect of it that is not you and still is you…The creation can never be one way street. I do believe even God considered the spirit of the clay when he made Adam…don’t you think so?

After all we are not exactly the mirror image of him…..

An open letter to parents…all of us out there!

2008-12-16T09:12:00.009-05:00

I wonder when did it all start…this “generation gap”, this “misunderstanding” between a parent and a child….was it chicken or egg first?

In last few months I am deeply sad and seriously in thoughts for the way that all of us, one way or another – make negative impacts on the most beloved beings in our lives. It is not hard to be shocked when you turn on the news and hear about all the abuse and murders that is being done by no others than parents. I remember in April / May the case of that Austrian man made me have nightmares and enormous sadness for weeks and weeks. So while in the one end of spectrum there are these unbelievable monsters, they are not who I am referring to here. I am referring to all of us, the ordinary people that bring human beings to this world with hope and joy and do our best to provide for them – physically, emotionally and spiritually I hope!

And then somewhere down the road, we are the sole responsible of inflicting wounds on their psyche….wounds that are so hidden and so deep that might not be healed and very well might be transferred to the next generation and the generation after that.

I was thinking of a particular example that I hear so often. When parents can not understand why their “grown up children” can not accept them the way they are….after all they are old, aged and no room for “change” anymore….
Well what do you expect?

Did you ever accept that child JUST the way she or he was?
Did you accept her / him with all the fears, anxieties, stubbornness, sensitivities, low self confidence…..?
Or did you try your best to “change” her / him? To make her / him a better version?

Do you even accept your child when she / he is no longer a child...is an adult with a life to lead and a role to fullfill?

And that is the big million dollar question…..did you try to make her / him a better version of “herself/ himself” or a better version period?

It is like sculpting with clay. A good clay artist always cherishs and honors the clay just the way it is. Then with love and respect to the “being” of the clay, she or he will start smoothing the edges…..

I mean becoming the better version of oneself means you already accept and cherish the clay that you are working with, even if the clay will not end up being your version of anything (ESPECIALLY if the clay does not end up like your vision!)….

But making someone the better version means the version that she or he is or will choose to be is NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOUR STANDARD.

So in the name of parenting, how many of us did or do that on daily basis?
How many of us want to “change” our children with the big excuse of “improving you and your life”?
How many of us are so disrespectful to their “being”?
How many of us are even aware of this abomination?

How many of us told our children “stop crying, you are a big girl/ boy now”…“Why are you afraid of everything?”….“Why don’t you have many friends?”…. “Why can’t you be social?”….“Why are you so sensitive….or have no self esteem?’’… “ You have to do this, because I say so and I know much better than you”…"too emotional, too this, too that, not enough this, not enough that".....shall I go on or does these sentences sound familiar to us?

Lately I seriously doubt and challenge the concept of “a parent is a self less being”…are we? What does that mean in your dictionary?…let’s just be clear of the meanings word for word.
Are we sure we are not selfish? I mean are we sure what we are doing is not the core definition of selfishness?

Well not only we try to “change” our children, we are not satisfied with the people in society, in our circle of friends or family. They also are not “good enough”. We also NEED to change them, to make them “improve” themselves…of course all is in the name of love and care and being a responsible human being….I mean come on!

When did we fall asleep and woke up in a parallel universe that everything has another meaning?

The reality is that we give / gave examples to our children all their lives, that nothing or nobody is GOOD ENOUGH for us….that everyone INCLDUING THEM (sadly, so sadly) needs modification to become “better” for our existance…and then one day that child is an adult and stands up to our face and tell us that she or he DOES NOT accept us the way we are…that why can’t we do this or that? That why can’t we change?

And what is the typical answer:
I am “….” old, I can not change anymore…didn’t you know that I am like this all my life? Why can’t you let me be?

Well of course the child can not accept us the way we are, after all she/he was an excellent student in our classroom. She / he learned that nothing is good enough unless it fits our way of thinking…..our way of life...our way of good and bad, right and wrong....strong and weak....

So welcome to the never ending fight between generations….welcome to rage, disappointment, sadness, hurts and wounds that never heals and ongoing saga of was it chicken or egg first?

This one is HIS story not mine….

2008-11-28T21:37:00.007-05:00

Somehow the time of the year that falls under Scorpio sign, does not agree with me!

For so many reasons that most of them are as old as my soul, I feel miserable in this glorious period of time. Either it is the strong aversion that I have to the influence of Planet Mars; or the mighty Hedas, the lord of the underworld, which does not agree with my shadow that much; or because of all the memories of doom and gloom that somehow echo for me in this month…or maybe, just maybe it is simply because of the lack of sunlight and all the grey days that come with this time of the year – after all not everything HAS to have a deep spiritual meaning, ha???!!!!!!

Scorpio came and passed this year and I survived it one more time - although it was a tough tough month for me. Somehow the energy of misery, even if it is just in your mind, can bring more hardship one way or another. Apart from being unbelievably busy day and night for many different reasons – which made me realize that I literally do not have as much energy as I had years ago (and lets not forget the belly that is growing and truly takes me off my balance every step of the way) - everyone in the household (including Oma and Opa that are visiting us) were sick with viral cold… not once but twice! So as soon as one round of cold was over the second round started and somehow I ended up being the last person in each series and with being pregnant and all, at the end my body just totally collapsed from absolute and pure exhaustion!

In all honesty the concept of physical exhaustion is not that familiar to me. As much as I am personally very familiar with mental and emotional exhaustion and somehow can write volumes of book about it, the concept of “body” gives up was very foreign to me. I guess it is time to admit it loud and clear: I AM AGED!

But this particular Scorpio time of the year brought another milestone for little boss and me!

Little boss started his toddler program. To say that I “agonized” for days and night in last few months over this milestone, is just putting it mildly. In all fairness the "agonize" part mostly had to do with the shadow that follows me personally since I was a little girl…..

The little boss’s program is the first step in the type of the education that my better half and I chose for our children. For now it is 3 hours in the morning and the first two weeks was supposed to be transitional. That meant, I had the “back to school” tune in my days!

Little boss and I attended the classes and I participated in his class – mostly like a shadow- so he will get use to it and all. By nature and by profession I did what I do the best in life: Deeply observe.

Looking at all these little toddlers and the way that they interact with their surroundings, how each and every one of them cope with the concept of “separation anxiety” and change in their daily routine of life, how the adults look at these little ones and try their best to assist them…and above all how the adults deal with their own shadows.

According to all the teachers and professionals in the school, little boss handled himself really amazing…so good that they told me the transitional period can be only 4 days for him. The class has a one way window that parents can drop by at any time and stand there as long as they want and see what is happening with their kids. That can give you a clue that how I did spend most of my days of the remaining 2 weeks. After all what the teachers were perceiving as “little boss is adjusting grate” was little bit different than what I was perceiving.

I am not sure is it a curse or a blessing - personally I think it is not a blessing even if it won’t be a curse....Little boss internalizes his emotions and only shows the raw form of it to me the most and then my better half and in some extend to Oma and Opa.

As I am typing these words I shake my head in sadness because I just hear the voice of everyone: “He is just like his mommy….OH MY GOD! How much he takes after you….WOW! it is like looking at little you….” And this internalizing part is exactly what comes from my glorious gene pool. I learned to internalize all my emotions (fears, anxieties etc.…) since the early age of 3 or 4. The little boss is doing it at least for a year now and God knows how much I am trying to teach and encourage him to “Let it out!”….

So not like most of the kids in the same boat; he did not scream, he did not cry, he did not kick and protest that he does not want to go in….they did not have to push the mommy and daddy out of the door and hold the child in. My little boss listened to me very carefully when I told him “is that OK with you to stay here today without mommy? Let me know if that is not OK with you…. Mommy will come back very soon and pick you up and we can go home... and until then you can play with Mrs…….”….

He stood up straight, squeezed my hand hard, pushed his head to my face when I was kissing him and whispering to him how much I love him… and then he let go of my fingers and went into the class with his teacher – chin up and body tensed. I ran out of the door and went behind the window that already became my best friend in the world…and watched.

I watched EVERYTHING….every time that a muscle in his body tightened, every glance that he threw toward the door, every time that he stood in the middle of the class in silence…. and I keep note of the fact that he did not chat AT ALL – my very very chatty boy!

I watched every time that one of the teachers with so much care came to him and tried to introduce him to a new activity…and I watched how my little boss most of the time followed the teacher and did his part in the whole thing…..and then when the time came for me to pick him up, I would go to the door and would watch him running into my arms and kissing me and chats all they way back home about the things that he did (mostly the highlights in his perception) – and he did not know that I watched every minute of it- and in between each sentence he would tell me “I Yove You SOOOOOO Much Mamma”!...and I would react as if this is the very first time I become aware of his daily activity and “OH MY GOD, how proud I am of you…such a good boy…I LOVE YOU SOOOOOOOO MUCH”…..

And the day after and the day after…and every day they told me “OH MY GOD! He is adjusting so amazingly….” And every day I saw the rule of the universe: we might control our fears and emotions at one place but inevitably it will catch up with us sooner or later.

Little boss would come home and from that moment on, he DID NOT want to let go of me. I HAD to be with him ALL THE TIME…he had to play with his toys and mamma had to sit there and cheer him or just simply breathe and be present…. The tantrums and nagging and cry over everything and nothing….The “I want this, I want that, I don’t want this, I don’t want that”… the 5 times during the night waking up and crying “where is mamma? I want mamma”….

And the morning would come and it was a brand new day once again….

On the way to school he is so happy and telling me what he will do again. It seems that he truly enjoys his school, I can not debate that part what so ever….and still the impact of all the changes in his routine of life and the influence of the steps toward becoming an independent being in the world, show itself in the afternoon and night….the total NEED to have Mamma close by, the absolute life line of “mommy hold me”, “In mommy’s arm”…

We are dealing with him going through all that as best as we know how. He is trying to process and cope as well as going through terrible two and the cherry on the top I guess is the nasty viral cold that somehow loves our household and for sure has the intense effect on his mood!

Above being affected as HIS mother, the whole ordeal punched my psyche and heart in the places that carry deep open wounds…

I attended daycare/ Kindergarten, very very early in life and through all my childhood. I would have given SO much to not go to those places. God knows how much I wished for my mom or a family member to take care of me…. You have NO idea.

One of the earliest memories in my life is crying so profoundly and deeply when my mom was dropping me at the daycare. I can remember her back toward me walking out of the door. I still remember it like it was yesterday. My parents carry a huge guilt for all that. I think I came to a peace with the whole ordeal but until 5-6 years ago, I was truly bitter by the whole experience.

I think the choice of me staying home after becoming a mom, was partly- not all of it but partly - because of this whole ordeal. When I was a little girl, I wowed to myself that I will not bring a child to this world, if that child has to go through that much loneliness and forsaken feeling that I felt.

I can tell you my experience during the whole kindergarten- or whatever name it had- was PURE HELL. I hated it with passion... Interestingly no one could ever understand me because everyone in our family and circle of friends was in the same situation and they seemed “NORMAL”!

So years and years after that when finally I opened up and showed all the wounds that I had and all the scars that I carried because of the whole ordeal, my parents’ feeling was the combination of guilt and the fact that they did not know what else they could have done at the time, with being both full time at work and no other alternative…

So the last few months I agonized of the prospect of my baby going through a similar experience. The thought of him crying in pain while I have to leave him behind and go, was a nightmare that I had and yet I knew I am doing the best at this time and choosing the most nurturing way to prepare him to stand up on his own….

What I did not imagine was his silent reaction, his choice of carrying it all within for that three whole hours…an eternity for two years old! What I did not count on was how to deal with my little boss trying so hard to face the challenge so bravely and with superhuman effort for his very young age and loose all his control for the rest of the day and night….

Now I wish he would have cried. There are still good number of kids in the same class that started their course in September and yet every morning they cry and scream from 30-45 minutes. I know because I am watching them from my beloved window! The better half teases me that very soon the school will charge us half of the tuition fee because of my amazing attendance behind the window! But it is only his third week and let’s not forget that it is not only the little boss who is going through the separation anxiety, mamma also has her share of this emotion at this time (and this time around, the separation anxiety is because of being separated from my baby)!

Now I know very clearly, all the worries and anxieties were part of my story not his. I, on my part, used all the superhuman efforts in the world to not allow my story influences his…to not allow him pick up on my fears and apprehension. For now, I am waiting for him to choose his way and unfold his story just the way he wishes. The only thing I can do is to try to smooth the harsh edges for him…and maybe, just maybe I make his experience in life more cheerful and magical than mine……or at least less lonely than mine!

One thing is very clear: his milestone; regardless of what it is; will always be a shining star for me in the month of Scorpio….any memory attached to him is something that I cherish with all my heart and soul…and this particular one had a voluble lesson for me. It showed me that some wounds will start to heal, even if many many many years are passed...just by watching him going through his days....just by watching him....

For "TÊTE-À-TÊTE" and her soulful post

2008-11-02T21:46:00.017-05:00

When we started to get to know each other, we used to stay on the phone for hours and not realizing what time it is, day or night….

When we started to get to know each other, phone was our best friend; the kind, loyal, trustworthy, keep it all to itself and warm third party that was connecting us no matter where we were and what was happening in the world around us….

I fell in love with the phone and he used to say – almost in every conversation- that how much he salutes Mr. Graham Bell!

Then the era of totally different time zones came along…and fax became as good a friend as the phone (yes, yes…. I am from Dinosaur era when emails was started to be just an item in conversations!)…fax became even better than the phone considering the heavy burden of the phone bills…and sweeter than that was the letters and the cards that we would send to one another….fax became the method for the daily reports and letters carried the luxury of deep conversations…. Pages and pages of handwritten letters….the papers that was bringing the touch of the lover…the perfume of his soul!

It was very obvious from the beginning that I am the writer in this relationship but in all honesty, for every letter or fax that I sent, he did send one immediately in return….so many times he was the one that would send a card not in reply to mine but just because… The tone of our writings was always different. I was what he calls “the deep, soulful” writer and he was what I call “fun, silly” one!

While I used to nag that why he is so silly in his writings and why can’t he go “deeper”, I came to cherish and be unbelievably dependent to the lightness of his being, such an amazing compliment to my unbearable heaviness…..

I brought him to the world of Prophet and he took me to the world of simplicity.
I talked about all that I knew in the books and he shared with me what life is really all about.
I played for him the voice of Charles Aznavour (the frequent background voice while I was growing up) and he played for me the sweet melody of silence.
The same silence that always used to make me nervous and anxious became an ocean of wonder and peace IF it was shared with him….

By chance I heard a song: “Is Your Love Strong Enough?" by Bryan Ferry (not a type of music that I liked or ever listened to) and for a while I used to whisper some of its verses for myself:

Just one step at a time
And closer to destiny
I knew at a glance
There’d always be a chance for me
With someone I could live for

Is your love strong enough

Like a rock in the sea?

The agony of all the physical distances between us was one of the most difficult things I ever went through in my life. It was taking all my energy, all my existence...it was eating my soul…and being such an unfair person by nature, I took it all on him. The bitterness in my voice, the anger in my writings…he was always my punching bag…the sadness now for me is that I think he also took all the blame on himself; while in all honesty there was no one to blame. That was life… that was the road that we had to go through, it was not right or wrong, correct or mistake, IT just WAS!

Years passed…I grew up so much and gained certain level of maturity and still remained as “heavy” as a lead!
His gained maturity did not touch his childish soul at all and God knows how thankful I am for this.

Life went on…the daily routine of life happened, the one that can consume you beyond belief, the one that can make your life passes by years after years and one day you open your eyes and realize you did NOT do ANYTHING and yet you DID SO MUCH!

Phone is no longer a necessity to connect us but I think both of us still reserved a soft spot in our hearts for this device.
We once in a while write letters for each other and cards are now mostly for special occasions…he leaves me quick notes here and there, one of those “post it” yellow, pink, green little squares, with funny words and smiley faces…and he does not know this but I keep every single one of them as if they are my most cherished possessions in life.

Now we do not need to talk via a device. We talk all the time…or shall I say most of the time I am the one that talks and he is the one that listens and comments here and there, and interestingly his comments are always deeper than life and more soulful than love itself…and there are those times that I fume over the fact that why he is not “talking more deeply and lengthily” and he laughs and jokes and makes funny faces and I remember what a blessing it is to have such a beautiful, innocent “depth” in being…

After the little boss came, my solo trips for my job are rare commodity. But he goes to business trips frequently and we find each other in different time zones once again…no time for lengthily chats and still those quick moments of conversations are what we enjoy so much…whether it is through quick frequent phone calls, emails- not more than a line or two- or constant text massages just to say where we are and what is happening with the life around us….

Life goes on, love changes…

I have a personality like a rock, changes do not come that easily to my doorsteps. If 20 years ago someone would have told me that “love changes”, I would have imagined that “it will be the end of my life as I know it”…today I think “life goes on, love changes and that is the most beautiful thing in the universe”…If this love is the one that “they” call it a “true love” then I have to say: any change is welcome as it only makes it more and more beautiful…It just might makes us go through HELL to cherish the result!

"IT" says good bye....

2008-10-27T15:15:00.012-04:00

I look at my little 2 years - old baby boy and whisper to myself in wonder: “So this is when all begins! This is when it “sinks in” one way or another….this is when human being starts to realize that all good things come to an end, that what they are enjoying so much unavoidably comes to an end”.

Little boss is struggling with this “reality”...whether it is his beloved bath time that comes to an end or the Thomas the train show says goodbye or when the play time is enough and we have to go for a nap….He protests so hard. He can not understand why Thomas has to suddenly go or why mommy is telling him that “it is time to come out of the bath”….

For me it is a mesmerizing subject. Maybe because all my life I dread with passion, approaching “the end”…In all honesty I rarely enjoy the moments fully and completely, mostly because I KNOW it will end and that sadness, that deep feeling of loss, prevents me from enjoying the blissful moments. I think I have only 10-12 specific blissful moments in my life that I did not think of the next moment when all comes to an end. So looking at my beloved little boss, I am truly amazed by how quickly it all begins.

My better half and I mostly approach the subject by repeating to him that it will come again, he will have another bath, another Thomas’s show, Thomas needs to go and rest now, “Zoboomafoo” is going to eat his food, Bob the builder will build another project very soon, he can play after the nap…while all the time in my heart I feel this is really not a good way to approach this whole ordeal. So couple of days ago, while he and I were going through one of these episodes, I decided not to give him the illusion that “it will come back”. Because in all “reality”, “IT” the way that “IT” was, will never again come back. So I just held him tightly and decided to talk my points in his language as good as it gets – a little chit chat between mommy and son, something that we are already very used to it.

I told him: “Honey, I know how you must feel. Not feels good”.
Little boss suddenly became calm: “No good momma…I want that bath please!”.
Me: “But bath time finished. The end… You know: Bath time says good bye, “Tabooya” (His made up word for finish)”.
Little boss – in my total astonishment became Silence and then looked at me…: “Tabooya, goodbye….”
Me (putting my foot even deeper in my mouth!): “Tabooya, good bye….every thing says goodbye. Sometimes they will come back later and say hello again. But then they say Tabooya again”

(In my very stupid adult way I prepared myself for the big question of “WHY?” and instead my little boss in his absolute wisdom that only comes from the purity of his age asked me…)
Little boss: “Where go? Goodbye and where go?”
Me: hmmmm….Silence…
(And thinking: I heard about all the questions that will come and we the almighty parents don’t know the answers but I did not know it will be this soon!)

Me: “Well my love, I never thought of it this way. I don’t know”
Little boss: “Call it come mamma…“Bath” where are you? I am here.”
Me: “That will sometimes work but “bath time” will not come back right now. It needs some time”.

And this was when he decided that enough is enough and if “this bath time” is not coming back as soon as he wants, he will not wait anymore and he can go to his next project….such a healthy attitude really. Why should we wait for something that is not coming when we want them to come back!!!!???

I went through all the rituals that night. I sang and read and kissed and hugged endlessly and eventually put him in bed and walked out of his room….I went and sat somewhere in silence and in the dark. The whole ordeal touched so many things some where in my psyche….I travelled in time…to a crispy beautiful afternoon in June years ago…

Destination: A local ice cream café in the fairy city of Prague!
This particular ice cream café is a very small and clean place. One of those place that tourists are not aware of it. You can see local there as their usual customers. It is in “Staré Město” (Old Town) not far from St. Vitus Cathedral….in this little place I had one of my best ice creams.

I can truly say the only other ice cream that its taste stayed with me until now, is from a little Café in my beloved Italy and in the city of Balsamic vinegar; Modena. Some where hidden in Centro storico, there is this little warm place with the aroma of caffè espresso. No matter what season it is, you walk in and you feel the warmth of Italy – even if it is mid December or January. The owner, Luigi, gives you one of those famous Italian smiles and shouts “Ciao Bella!” and you feel you are indeed a “Bella” walking in this store. He tries very hard to make sure you are having his famous Cioccolato or at least Straccicatella Gelato and swears for you that his Tiramisù flavor is even better than the one in Treviso or Siena itself (the two cities with the claims that Tiramisù were their creation! What can I say, Italians really take their food seriously)… In all honesty there is something more than a Gelato or Tartufo in that small place. The whole experience makes it memorable, like anything else in Italy - not Tourist Italy but Italian Italy. By now I concluded that there is something in the soil, water and language of Italy that makes one believes whole heartedly in “La dolce Vita”. But writing about my beloved Italy can be the subject of another post all together….

Back to Prague….
In that particular afternoon, in the company of few of my loved ones, I had a truly “memorable” ice cream. Whoever knows me, knows that I am not an ice cream person – or sweet person for that matter. So when I almost licked my bowel of ice cream my better half smiled and said you really liked this one ha?…and I replied: I can not believe it is finished so quickly. He said: why don’t you order another one? Well, I was truly full….I sat there, looked at the old town with its fairy landscape and the life that was going on in the street and in the air…while I could hear the voices of the happy conversation of my company in the background. It was a combination of peaceful and exciting moment. One of those rare moments in time that you have the two extremes side by side and actually enjoying the contrast. I looked at the table and noticed everyone is done with their portions and the conversation was already about the plan for that night and let’s get ready to go….Suddenly I felt such a deep sadness in my bones. I could not believe my perfect moment was over. Why did it have to be so short? The rest of that day, that sadness stayed with me….In my mind, I wanted the taste of that ice cream again….

Few days after that, in another beautiful afternoon, I made sure the planning go somehow that we all go back there for another ice cream. We walked in and out of total coincident even sat on the same spot. Every one ordered ice creams and I was the only one that ordered the same flavor – did not want to spoil my moment by any surprise!

We had our ice cream, chat, laughed and looked around but in my disbelief, as delicious as the ice cream was, it was not as good as the first time…..

That day I went for a stroll on the Charles Bridge. I stood in the middle of the historic sight and leaned against the wall and looked at the Vltava River for a long time. I was watching the flow of the water and thinking about the memory of my ice cream.

No matter how many times you repeat an experience, it always is a new event. It does not matter how many times you push the rewind bottom and listen to your favorite music, it is not the same as the first time you heard it, as the first time it took your breath away.

There are times that you might even feel better, more blissful and happier when you are listening to that music for the 100 times. But is it really the music that you are hearing for the 100 times? It never is….it was not “the ice cream”, it was that moment, that spot in the universe and time where so many perfect roads came together and created the perfect experience….

“IT” will never come back my son. Another “IT” will come, sometimes even better and more joyful than the first “IT”…but that “IT” says good bye and goes and echoes in the memory of the universe where everything lives over and over and over again for the very first time!

When I was not looking…

2008-10-15T22:48:00.005-04:00

They say: “when you are not searching, you will find it”…they say: “the best thing happens when you least expects it”….
Well I think at least for once, “they” are correct!

I was not searching at all, I did not expect ANYTHING that day…I woke up to that very ordinary day and did my very ordinary things and went to that very familiar place…and there you were. I was among my "sister- friend"s and you were among your good friends. I turned around and met your eyes staring at me…your eyes that were blinking with stars in them…and somewhere deep down in my soul I knew I am at the presence of a miracle!

I was too proud to acknowledge what is happening. I resisted it for long time. You on the other hand, are always much healthier than me. Your pride is always more balanced than mine. You knew that there is no reason to deny the most profound love of all.

Surrender to loving you was indeed one of the most glorious moments of my life.
Your existence in my life is the highest miracle of all….
Any blissful moment in my life somehow originated from you…you are in the center of all that is blissful and magnificent for me.

You look at me and I know you are reading me inside out, no need for words, no need for explanations…no need to hide anything from you…you accept me with no condition, no judgment, no prejudice….and that was how it was from the first “hello”!

To be myself with you, with no censorship and hiding, is the easiest thing in my life…and “that” you know so well, does not come naturally or easily to me!

Indeed from the start I knew I am “home”, the only home that I ever know in my entire life. You are the one that I come to, no matter how far I run away in my wild searches in life. The stars in your eyes are the North Star that helps me find my way back to “home”, no matter how lost I am or ever will be…

Just a simple touch of your hand can free me from all the demons and self made prisons in my life.

You, my love, are the only one in the universe that gives me unconditional peace in life…a luxury that is so rare for my turbulent personality.
You lift all the worries, all the fears, all the frustrations and all my running away.
Ah how easily you take away my unbearable heaviness of being…

You bring hope to my heart, erase my sadness, and bring the deepest desire in me to be better version of myself: to exercise forgiveness more and accept flaws as if they are unique beauties in a masterpiece called human being. Your unconditional tolerance for people always amazes me….

And above all, you make me laugh no matter how sad or mad or hopeless I feel. You are possibly the only one in the entire universe that can bring out the deep, from the core laughter, to me…the kind of laughter that is with no boundary, the kind that makes one loose herself in the moment of life….I never know how you do it my dearest dear!

You came to “be” in this world, few years earlier than me and at that moment all the Gods in the universe were smiling upon my soul…you were the miracle, the beacon of hope and love that was coming to be in my life.

I cherish your being with all my heart and soul.
I go to the most sacred alter of my life, to pray to all divinity in the world and give thanks for the blessing that is your soul…

Thank you for “being” my dear love, my closest friend.

I love you more than any words in any language can describe…but then again my love, you know the depth of my love for you…no need to talk, no need to write….just to gaze in each others’ soul….

Life moves on....

2008-10-11T21:54:00.015-04:00

“And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself?”
He said that a lifetime ago, so casually and carelessly…

I told him: “Wow, where is that from?”
He replied with sudden seriousness in his posture: “Does it need to be from anywhere to make it more or less true for a person?”….

…..

It was the first time that I saw the face of a “loss”. I was too young to process the reason and too old to EVER forget the pain. It was the first time that I saw with my own eyes, it is not a myth when one’s hair becomes ALL white just over a night. It was the first time that I saw life can be so unfair. The unfairness was no longer in the books or the media or even the stories of the neighborhood…the unfairness hit unexpectedly, out of absolute no where. It was the first time in my life that I wondered about the big question of all: “and what is the lesson in this one? Does she need any more lessons after this?”

I saw her stunningly beautiful face collapsed under the unbearable heaviness of the pain. She stopped all the clocks, cut off the telephone line and let her life stops for eternity. For her the stars did not blink any more, the moon and the sun disappeared forever. For me, she being still alive is the unfairness of all….Death can be such a mercy sometimes….

It was the first time that I understood what did Auden meant by:
“He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest…”

Eventually for all his friends, life did move on. Surprisingly the force of life is stronger for youth. We carried his torch as much as we could. We, his “soul – brothers” and “soul – sisters”, flew away in different directions…each had our own cross to carry…as that is the definition of life. We experienced the bliss and sorrow of life, each in our own way and we continue to experience that in our daily routine of life.

I grew up so much in the years that followed. I aged beyond my years not by passing of time but by my experiences in life….I hit the bottom of my abyss and felt so many times life is not worth living even for another single breath…and I flew high on the wings of the most profound bliss and thanked all Gods in the universe for being alive just to experience those moments…..and like most of the people, most of the time I lead a simple life in between those extremes.

We lived and she lived "HIS" life through each and every one of us. She became our surrogate mother and our children became her grandchildren, the children of the one that she will never have…

…..

I called her yesterday… we both knew it is few days earlier than THE day. We talked; we even laughed…a progress for this time of the year…a progress that comes only when so many years are passed.

I could smell the familiar aroma, hear the familiar sounds, and watch the passing of the familiar autumn day from her window…that friendly window that I miss so much....

I could see the familiar pain…so far away and yet I could reach and touch her pain.

The pain that did not become less, no matter how long is passed…
The pain that is intensified by the hundred echoes of the memories…
The pain that is prolonged with the imagination of the life that could have been….that should have been…
The pain that only became more hidden by passing of a time that feels like an eternity…

And “That” pain is heavier than ever for me, “HER” pain that I feel more than before since I experienced “the heart of a mother”….

“There is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one’s own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels WITH someone…”
My thoughts flew away: where did I read this? I wondered….

And then his words, echoed in time “no matter where it is from, nothing makes it more or less true for one person”…I swear I heard the ringing of his laughter….

You were so right my dear friend; No one ever reads a book. He reads himself through books, either to discover or to control himself..…I smiled….

We were saying our usual goodbyes…don’t worry for me, I love you, I miss you…

And then her sudden seriousness, the mirror of that other familiar soul: “Promise you will take care of yourself, you have no idea how precious your life is for me”…and then her whisper in the phone: “Wish you were here...”

The silence that is pregnant with all the things that she wanted to say...

I said with hidden tears in my voice: “You will remember my flowers for him, won’t you?”
And her reply: “Always!”

To be or not to be?

2008-10-04T15:56:00.007-04:00

Have you experienced one of those moments in life that everything that comes to your road is pointing to one subject?

Some call it synchronicity, some call it pure coincidence...and a particular friend of mine thinks the whole thing is because a person is sensitive to that subject at that moment of time, therefore she notices it more frequent but the frequency of happening it, is exactly like always....

I do belong to the camp of synchronicity....but in all honesty most of the time I think "WHO CARES WHAT IS THE REASON. IT IS HAPPENING AND THAT IS THE BOTTOM LINE"!

So in last couple of weeks, I hear sentences like this so often:
"Oh you are pregnant with your second one, how brave you are!", "I am not sure how can I bring kids to this world. Look at the situation in the world, the recession, the genocide, Darfur...", "I think I have to have full self awareness before become a parent", "Kudos to you, you are really brave to put your heart for more anxiety, heartbreak and fear out there", "with this terrible world, I am so fearful to become a parent".....and so on.

Interestingly I hear these things from strangers in the grocery shop, patients in my clinic, my acquaintances, my friends and even read them in different blogs (mommy blogs and non mommy blogs)!

The whole thing put me in a loop, one of those that you think and think and think and then you realize you just went so deep that you don't even know which way is up and which way down?!

Today a patient told me something that made me come out of my loop and have an answer to it all...at least an answer for myself. She said: "I am always afraid if one day in the future the child will tell me: why did you bring me to life? What is so good about it when there is so much terrible things around us".

Believe it or not, I am not that much out of touch with disasters in our world. Not only by nature I lean toward pessimism - believe it or not! - but thanks to my profession I come in touch with unbearable individuals' suffering: from people as young as 3 years old kids battling with sever terminal cancer, to men and women in their prime of life going through blindness and so much more thanks to MS, to people that are hitting the bottom of the abyss of depression, to a wife that witnesses his husband disappears right in front of her eyes after 45 years of marriage thanks to Alzheimer's.....I see men and women at any age, healthy in body and sick in mind, go through many different kind of addictions and throw away what ever time they have on this earth.

I am not blind to the cruelty of our race, to the rape and genocide that happens ALL the time at one part or the other of this planet we call home. My heart aches for the children that are being sold right at this minute as I am typing these meaningless words. I go to a rage with the thought of child abduction and child slavery. I feel a sinking sensation every time that I think of the women that has to sell themselves to bring food for their children....

I am aware of the pressure that still is on women...no matter which part of the world they live in. Some are as obvious as in Afghanistan and Saudi Arabia and some are as hidden as in US, Canada and Europe.

It is a long time now that I realized that human race is the most cruel and senseless of all the animals...a race that can kill another human so merciless, or worse than that, a race that can torture and abuses another being in every sense of the word....

I also live in this world that the cost of life is going to the roof, that soon we will need a wheelbarrow full of money to buy a loaf of bread....I am living in the same world that politicians are talking sweet and acting cruel, in the same world that the word "patriotism" is being used so carelessly and as a mean for any action, in the same land that freedom is just a myth and deep down the fear rules us all....

I live in this world that "Machiavelli" would have been so proud of his "Prince" every day of the year. I am breathing the same dingy air of lie, deceit and corruption. I am living in the same society that the race to gain power is the highest nobility of humanity, a world that intolerance for the individual rights for life is nothing but poetry.....

Shall I go on my friends?....

Believe me, I am not telling you all this to persuade you to become a parent. I am as "pro choice" as it comes, for EVERYTHING IN LIFE. I believe people make choices for their lives and all of those choices deserves the highest respect of all, even if we disagree...especially if we disagree!

Most of the time I question the actions and not the intention. So I am the advocate of choice no question in it. Those that know me well, know that I actually believe, WITH ALL MY HEART, that not everyone needs to be a parent - or should be for that matter- in order to fulfill their lessons in life. We come to this world for a reason or two and not necessarily that means we have to bare children of our own or care for any child at all to fulfill our "destiny" - what ever this controversial word means!

But I am going through all these meaningless words one after another to ask you only one point:

Have you ever looked at sunrise? did a sunset ever took your breath away? Have you smelled a flower and felt mesmerized by it? Did you listen to the silence of the nature and think of the grandness of it all? Have you looked at "Botticelli's primavera", listened to "Moonlight sonata" and gazed in the vision of "Gaudi" and felt in awe of the ability of another human being? Did you think of mother Theresa and her unbelievable selflessness despite the deceit of the religion, the abyss of her depression and the darkness of the world? Have you looked up in the starry night and went to a silent prayer for the vastness of the world?

Have you ever fell in love? Did you feel the ache of every cell of your body in the yearning of touching the hands of the beloved? Have you gazed in the eyes of the lover and sank in there for all eternity? Did you ever feel love...even if it was supposed to come to an end one day in the near or distant future?

If the answer to any of these is "yes"...then my friend, do you think was it fair for you to miss this "life"? Was it better for you to not have been born? did you prefer to miss the feeling of LOVE in ANY shape or form?

After all:

"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain."

Just one of those days….

2008-09-30T21:07:00.019-04:00

Just one of those days….

My sister - friend gave birth to her first child very far away from me. Although a few of my frineds’ kids call me aunt, I feel I just became an aunt today. She gave birth very far away from me, in a totally differnt time zone and her husband called me less than 15 minutes after the birth, very early morning my time, and we cried and laughed and cried more on the phone…and then I called my better half that is on a business trip and is on totally another time zone…I woke him up and cried and laughed and chat and he was yawning for half of it and speechless from joy for another half…..

Just one of those days….

My sister- friend called me from hospital and after a serious cry and laugh and cry and chat….she told me about the night and day that she had and how all ended up in my nephew being born….and then she, being totally consumed with fatigue, adrenalin rush and good amount of Prolactin and “happy” hormone (the one and only: Endorphin) asked me the big million dollar question:
"Tell me something. The rest of the child rearing can not be as hard as my last 15 hours…can it?”

I laughed and teased and avoided the answer altogether….after all it is not that often that we, mothers, can be high on such natural happy hormones!!! Why spoil it for this sweet sister of mine?!

Then I put the phone down and had to deal with one of those toddler days…one of those days that if someone would have pulled out every hair on my head, would have been so much easier and less painful than going through all the tantrums, terrible twos pattern of behavior, whining, non stop talk and question, refuse to do anything that is being asked for and do everything that is a big NO NO NO!

One of those toddler days that Mamma did not say much other than:
Don’t do it!
Stop it there Mr.!
Don’t even think about it!
I know your trick my boy!
Where do you think you are going?
And what does that cry mean now?
Please be gentler
Watch where you are running to
Hello, mamma is calling for you
OK time for "time out"!

Just one of those days….

He is in his crib now and tries to fall asleep and I am sleeping with my eyes open, the irony of life...

I am typing these words and thinking of my sister – friend…Oh my dear sweet sister. The labor is so much easier than the child rearing. It is a tough role, it is exhausting, it will push your boundaries beyond anything in your life, there are times that you want to cry out of exhaustion and desperation, there are times that you are truly clueless and unbelievably out of any patience, there are times that you feel how can I go on one more minute and above all there is that good old guilt and second guessing of the mothers….and yet at the end of the day while you go through all that roller coaster rides and the three ring circus acts, while every cell in your body aches and the pain can be felt in every muscle and bone of your half broken body, you just smile…

Even when smiling is too energy consuming: you still smile!
Even if your facial muscles don't work anymore, you will still smile in your heart!

Just one of those days….

A lifetime of events, a blink of my eyes!

2008-09-25T20:41:00.005-04:00

I did not need any alarm clock to wake up much earlier than necessary!

My body’s alarm clock worked perfectly on its own. Every cell in my being remembers the exact hour and the minutes of the most important moment of my life.

I needed to be as close to him as I could physically be, exactly at those minutes. Call it mothers sentiment, call it woman’s logic of heart!

I tried very hard not to wake up my better half. I tipped toed toward little boss’s room, very aware of all the creaks and cracks sound…. walked in very slowly, breathing deep to take in his adorable smell and the peaceful energy of his room.

There, in the dark, is he… my first born baby.

Wow! In just few minutes he will be officially two years old and yet look at him… How tiny he is, this baby of mine.

As always, blankets all on one side far away from his body… his most beloved teddy bear close to his side.

I bend into his crib (as much as my growing belly allows me) and adjust his blankets and touch his hair…a gentle touch, as if only air brushed his hair.

He releases a loud and deep breath and I can see his peaceful face. My eyes can see so much better in the dark than in the light (the joke of the family) and I use this blessing right there and then to look deeply in every line of his sweet face and peaceful body.

His hair, damp with sweat - the sweat that smells like tuberose for me (and I am not kidding here. It really smells like tuberose – my favorite flower way before I had him!)….the little tiny drooling line beside his cheek….he is every inch a baby.

No matter how much he is grown up compare to two years ago…compare to that very first moment that they put his naked body on my naked belly and chest…compare to that moment that still the umbilical cord was connecting us together, one body, two souls!

My baby….my baby!

In a blink of an eye, I go back to that moment two years ago: my heart was in my throat, ready for my whole world to flip off its axis…and still I did not know what is going to happen. I was as ready as I could be for everything to change in my world, excited and totally consumed with fear and anxiety….I knew I was in for the emotional makeover of my life but as God is my witness, I never thought it will be this profound and this divine!

Becoming a mother is for many women, the time that they most mature. Suddenly the things that should have always mattered and never was in my horizon did matter…. and the things that once consumed me blew away like hot air balloon!

Two years is passed… a lifetime, a blink of an eye!

I kneeled beside his crib, put my face to its side, breath in and tried to take in every breath that comes out of his sweet body.

In this quiet and dark, he is no longer a toddler that climbs, runs, screams and throws tantrums. He is no longer the little guy that runs to mommy because of a “boo, boo” but does not have enough patience to stay still in order for me to make the “boo boo” better….He is no longer the toddler that tries to do stuff “myself, I, me”!

He is just he, my first born, my first baby, always a baby, always soft and vulnerable and in need of me, always in need of me.

I put my hand inside his crib, fingers toward his tiny hand but afraid to touch it in case it will disturb his peaceful sleep… I am thinking of that moment, the first moment of the most important encounter of my life… I looked at the clock and that is the exact moment…suddenly his fingers grab my index finger. My heart sinks in…I looked at him: he is sleeping…and yet his hand is holding mine…I am back to two years ago exactly this moment…

My baby, always my baby!

Je Me Souviens…

2008-09-21T22:42:00.000-04:00

Autumn is here…my bittersweet fall!

Already the last week was a prelude to the symphony of my emotions; an avalanche of feelings…

Like every year I become more silence, words can not carry the depth of the feelings and life experiences; words - in any of the languages that I know - can not do justice to emotions….

So I cherish the silence of my mind and dive deep into my being, go for a swim at the very deep end of the ocean….overwhelmed with bliss and sorrow…

Heart is such a mystery…one can carry the two extremes side by side, at every moment in life…

Oh how I love autumn…and every year I fall deeper in love with this season….

Memories…
That is what autumn brings back to me…year after year!
More than anything: memories…

Am I in love with this season or just consumed with my memories and experiences?

Those moments that made me who I am today!
Those events, emotions and lessons…for better or worse, they shaped me and re-created me over and over….

The best of my life, the worst of my life…and all in between…
A landscape of events and places which mixes and overlaps with one another in a manner more than perfection

Like a drawing that I can never see anywhere other than the deepest, most sacred corner of my heart

I can not forget anything
I choose not to forget anything….

Each year fall returns and I do return with it to the poetry of my heart.

I remember…

Remember my son...

2008-09-11T18:29:00.010-04:00

My dear "Little Boss",

In 2 weeks you will be 2 years old. Couple of months after that you will start your “Toddler program” and while it will be only for 3 hours a day; still I am anxious for the change that you will face in your daily routine of life. It will be your first step in the type of education that your father and I chose for you. In just a few months we will welcome your new baby brother in our life…another change in your world…you will need to share your kingdome my sweet king!

So many millstones are just ahead of you….so many changes, so many new challenges and so many new rewards. Lately mamma’s nights are consumed with all these thoughts, the happiness that these changes will bring and the unknowingness of it all….

Are you ready to deal with them? Am I ready for them? And above all, how can I make the changes less shocking for you? How can I help you to adapt and move on happily? It is so important for me to make your life happy, for you to realize happiness is so precious…

I am anxious and sometimes fearful for all the known and unknown things that are in your way, and yet from the moment that you were born, one of my promises to you was to help you to fly high with freedom, courage and hope….today more than ever I have the mixture of fear and courage…this day more than any other day!

On this day seven years ago, at 8:57am, our world, the way that we knew it, changed in so many ways. This day became one of those days in the history book that people would always remember where they were and what they were doing at exactly those minutes that tragedy happened to the “free world”.

Your knowledge from that day and the events that followed it will be from history books…and yet my history books showed me that the writers are the sole owners of the authenticity of “our history”!

Things undeniably changed from this day seven years ago…for a while after that people were nicer to each other, made decisions with more humanity in heart and mind, priority in life changed and kindness came to the society.

Then time passed on and the world found itself consumed with bitterness, prejudice and fear, in a war that seems never ending and above all everyone gradually accepted a very high price on their human rights as the necessity for “safety”.

Land of the free? Not anymore
Home of the brave? I am not sure

The fear of unknown, of the evil that we do not see; the type of fear that people of Middle East live with it daily and hourly for such a long time; became part of the daily routine of many lives. The “hope” vanished from many hearts and gives its place to fear, anger and hatred.

Mothers realized that no matter what they do to make sure their babies are safe and sound, still bad things happen to very good people…still anger and hatred can destroy lives, souls and even the future of the world….

Such hopelessness can easily come to the hearts…

My dear sweet love, I look at you today and I wish I could shield you from all the heartbreaks and dangers that are ahead. But my dear son, the reality of life is that our time here is brief and some of it will be tragic. There will be sadness for which we cannot prepare ourselves, and yet we have to embrace the lessons in them. There will be fearful moments beyond imagination and yet we have to be brave.

We have to; HAVE TO my son; not give in to fear or hatred. They WILL lead us down the wrong path, a path that will take us further away from our human soul and lead us closer to our animal side.

As anxious as I am (and believe me my son I am a very anxious person), still I want to tell you to take chances. Play in the sand, even though there are some very sick people in the world that hide infected needles in children’s sandbox. Play with the mud and get dirty…look around and take it all in. LIVE my son, LIVE fully and completely…and make sure to take precautious too as I told you so many times, life is precious...your life is precious beyond belief my sweet boy.

Look both ways before you cross a street, but cross the street.

Above all my dear sweet son, make sure to be kind, forgiving, considerate, compassionate and understanding…play fair my son!

Remember, there is ALWAYS two sides to every coin….

I love you beyond words,
Mamma

Doubts, second guessing, intuition and more...

2008-09-08T21:01:00.011-04:00

She is a dear friend, not so close to me but never the less “dear”. She is also expecting, one month ahead of me. This will be her third child, the first two being boys. When she heard my news, she was genuinely excited: “Now we share something that makes us even closer and closer than before”.

A month ago, she called me and with the first “Hello” I knew something hit her hard. My heart sank in. The thoughts always go to the worst scenario when you are talking to pregnant women in distress.

S: I just came out of my ultrasound.
Me: Everything is good and fine, Ya?!
S: OH yes, the baby is healthy... It’s a boy….
Me: OH MY GOD that is SOOOO exciting. You found out the gender.
S: Yap, It’s a boy! I will have three boys, no girls…I need you to help me to get over my shock. It must not be good for the baby…We wanted a girl this time…I really really wanted a girl!
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ME: “S” called me today. They are having a boy.
My better half: WOW that is amazing. What an energetic household that will make.
ME: Silence
HIM: BTW I think they wanted a girl.
ME: How did you know?
HIM: Blink, Blink
ME: I have a confession to make…Blink, Blink
HIM: I feel like a priest or something:):)
ME: I never thought of it until today…I think I will be a better mother to boys….
HIM: How do you know that? You never had a daughter!

ME: Logically that is a correct argument. But women “feel” these things….and let’s face it I never was a girly girl, even as a child. I was never into dolls and tea parties. People goo goo and ga ga over the outfits for girls and I look at it and think it is good for a doll but not for practicality of daily life…my daughter will be very disappointed with my not so feminine side! I am really afraid I will disappoint my daughter....

HIM: I forgot the famous women’s “feelings”…and while you are at it, let’s not forget “pink” is your least favorite color hahhaha

ME: I am serious. I feel our baby is a boy and I think I also WANT THE BABY to be a boy, don’t you think the two brothers with close age will be good for each other? You can argue that I really don't know that, being the only child and all...

Although “They” say “Girl will stay and boy will leave”. For my selfish side, daughter is better in the long run I guess….still I think I will be better suited as the mother of boys….Maybe at this stage of my life I still did not learn to be a mother to a girl, maybe it changes in couple of years…I don’t know!

HIM: OH sweetie, I think no matter a boy or a girl, they will leave us. Only you and I stay for each other….
ME: Blink, Blink

HIM: Well the good thing is that we want children / babies, not gender, who cares it is a boy or a girl:):):)…Keep in mind “they” also say: “Mama’s boy and Daddy’s girl”…so in that way boys will be closer to you….

ME: Deep down I agree, WHO CARES IT IS A BOY OR GIRL. If I could, I would have had a dozen of children, half boys and half girls…But still I have a feeling, an intuition. Until today’s phone call I did not think of it one way or the other…now I can not shake it off!
I think I can teach my boys to be kind men, the type that “feel” and “talk about their feelings” and don’t hesitate to show their emotions because they are “A MAN”, the type that respect, cherish and honor women. I think that is one task that mothers can help their boys the most with….

HIM: In that department, I totally agree with you. You will be amazing for this task. And as for the talking and sharing the emotions, look at the little boss, he carries a conversation with you longer than I do…:):):)
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“They” do say: “Mamma’s boy and Daddy’s girl”.

I had / have more similarities with my father, similarities in hobbies, interests and above all in our personalities…We shared our books, love for history, philosophy, horses, skiing, never ending debates and so much more…everyone think I am a mirror image of him in personality. We share an especial bond even in my never ending discussions with him!

But deep in my heart and soul, I am and always was a “Mamma’s girl”. Our personalities are not the same - maybe except the anxious gene and the planning ahead….and yet I feel the most security in her presence, the most comfort and peace. I share the most hidden corner of my being with her. She never talks and I always like to have a discussion about issues. She never expresses her love and I love to show how much I love…. and still with the exception of my better half, I was and am “myself” the most with my mother.

From the outside everyone assume that I am daddy’s girl but to us and to the people closest to us the umbilical cord between my mom and I never stopped working….
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In the car, on the way there I tell my better half (trying my best convincing tone): “Let’s not find out what is the gender. You know they can not guarantee that they are correct and there are examples of them making a mistake in announcing the gender with the ultra sound”.

My better half can not control his laughter. “You can not even wait to open your gift for more than 10 seconds. Every time I have to go to million and one strategies to hide a gift for you and you make the house upside down to hunt it. I make a deal with you, if YOU choose to not find out, I am OK with waiting…but I make a bet, you CAN NOT do that”….he laughs all the way there…
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The technician finishes with all the technical stuff and goes out to bring him in and “Let the fun begin”. I sit up and bend to see the monitor. “OH he knows me so well…I can not control myself!”…

The screen is divided into the last 4 pictures. One shows the four chambers of the baby’s heart - priceless…the other is a little tiny hand on the face with the thumb in the mouth, I could recognize the nostrils and the lips - I have tears at this point....the third is the spine and the fourth….OH MY GOD, I know the gender!

The door opens. My better half and the technician walk in…he bursts into laughter, I look like a child with her hands in the cookie jar. “YOU COULD NOT WAIT, COULD YOU?!”….“Hey, I know what is the gender, It’s a ….”.

The Technician protests: “I did not tell you yet. How would you know?”…My better half: “Well the thing is that she is familiar with the ultrasound pictures”. She interrupts: “But let me give the tour myself…, “this is…this is ….look at…and this is….let’s move around…now here….and do you want to know the gender?”

My better half challenges me with his look. I reply: “OH YA, we do want your professional opinion on the subject”.

“Well you were correct. This “not so little thing” in there can only exist in BOYS. You are having a boy”.

My better half and I cheered… that kind of laughter that comes with tears... Excited, cheerful, no words to explain it…

“God willing I will be mother of two boys for now”…and as for the future and later on…it is in divine’s hand!

One more year...

2008-09-05T22:33:00.006-04:00

I woke up earlier than usual. Everything needed to be done and prepared earlier because of an appointment early in the morning. So the race started: wake up, shower, dress, prepare for our day ahead, pick the little boss from his crib, kiss him head to toe, hugs, chat, sing and dance and pretend it is all a big game when I am changing his diaper, washing him and putting clothes on his energetic body…In my mind there is no time for diddly doo…and still I am doing it just for his smiles and giggles.

Looking at my better half, he sneezes since last night, nose blocked, tired eyes…I am worried for him. I am tired, I am frustrated and no patience for any domino effects that his nasty colds usually bring to our households…. For me it is so much easier to be sick than witness the sickness of the ones that I love. But this time it is not me alone, little baby is moving in me. Hungry, impatient, like the little boss I guess…

Move on…move on….

I quickly look at the headlines: The heaviness of the world around me weighs on me, even if it is not necessarily MY experience but still MY WORLD. Sadness seems everywhere. So tough to search for hope and all…

There's so much misery around us; so much to fear and….I just put my hand on my little belly. My angel in there moves and I know hope does exist….

Multi tasking…that is what mothers do. While sitting not so patiently for my appointment, I check my emails with my i-phone. I really like my new toy but if I did not have it, then I could have closed my eyes and rest for a minute instead of responding to emails and all….Life is becoming even more complicated. Oh if only I could shut the world just for a little five minutes?

One email talks about some nasty things that happened to some good people.
My thoughts linger on horrible things I never want to face. I can't turn away. I can't shut them off. Worry. Worry. Worry. I can only worry.

Truth is I've always been this way. Anxieties and worries are my companion. I learned to live with them artfully; I learned to survive them skillfully but never left them behind.

The race of the heart, worries that are like the ripples from a pebble that someone tossed in my stream, my mind whirling silently in the space, full of never ending circles...on and on and on…

Daily routine of life continues…

It is toward the end of the day. Putting the last dish in the dishwaser, chatting with little boss from one side and better half from the other; trying to concentrate on what he is talking about: Democrat, Republican, Obama, McCain… while I am singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” for little boss…and promising my little baby in me that Mamma will sleep earlier tonight! I think! I hope…

Better half goes silent right in the middle of his heated talk. He gently stands behind me and his arms circle my body, hands on my belly….tries very hard not to breath in my direction so that his cold does not come to my doorsteps… my hands rest on his, I put my weight on his body, I am finally weightless, even if it is for a moment in time…both of us stand still in that pose, no need to talk, no need to move….looking at what is in front of us: little boss sitting on the kitchen floor and playing with all our pots and pans…banging them, laughing and chatting.

His gentle kiss lands on the back of my neck, he rests his forehead there and smell my hair…still avoids any breathing in my direction….and right there and then the lightness comes to my heart….even if it will last for a short few moment; I am thankful, I am free….

He lifts all the worries, all the fears, all the frustrations and all my running away.

He takes away my unbearable heaviness of being….just the same way that he did nine years ago on this day…just the same way that he did the first moment that I laid eyes on his cheerful face and sparking eyes all those years ago…a lifetime ago…Just the same way that he will do it for all my eternity… I know I am home!

Join me in my camp…by choice or by force!!!!!!!

2008-09-03T16:02:00.013-04:00

As good as I am in playing Chess, I stink in Backgammon!

My father taught me both of them – or taught me the Chess and attempted very hard for the Backgammon!

Both he and my better half are amazing players in the later one and I am always in awe in how can they do that.

Well I did not learn that much Backgammon from all those extensive training that my father had planned for me…except one sentence!

I think this one phrase stick to my grey cells because being a 7 years old kid; it was a strange sentence coming from my extremely logical father …

And that magical sentence is:
“Backgammon will teach you that 2+2 is not always equal to 4”.

He said that and he never thought in his wildest, very logical imagination that this simple sentence is what her daughter’s core life is made of, that this sentence is the most natural thing for her daughter…

Years passed and I grew up and heard the ABBA song “The winner takes it all” and fell in love with the part that says:

“The gods may throw a dice

Their minds as cold as ice

And someone way down here

Loses someone dear

The winner takes it all

The loser has to fall

Its simple and its plain

Why should I complain.”

We roll our dice and move our players and although luck, or synchronicity or whatever you want to call it, plays a role in the whole game of life, we still need some sort of strategy, some kind of planning… and ultimately we learn that sometimes no matter how much we plan and prepare ourselves for what is ahead in life, things will not work and go according to our master strategy…that our good old 2+2 is equal to zero or infinite or anything in between….

I learned that the hard way…that no matter what a good player I am in life, how much I prepare myself and plan and strategize, “The Gods may throw the dice” and there is NOTHING I can do other than modify my life and move on…..

The unexpected side of life, the unpredictability of it makes me shiver to my core and even right at that moment of fear an adrenalin shot of excitement develops somewhere deep in my being….

Does having a “faith” helps in dealing with all the unexpected in life?

Just by using the word “FAITH” in a sentence I opened myself for numerous prejudgments. I think, thanks to all the organized religions and specifically all three major mono-theist religions, the word faith is associated with some of the negative connotations….as if when you have faith you must be sitting on your "a…" and letting someone else lives your life….as if having faith is equal to being passive in life….

And in the same breath, there are some people that believe lacking faith is equal to doom and gloom…and is a major abomination for all the holies in life….

You hear a sentence like:
“Faith is one of the world's great evils, comparable to the smallpox virus but harder to eradicate." From Richard Dawkins.... and then you also hear one of my personal favorite quotes from no other source but Star Treck:):):)

"That's the thing about faith. If you don't have it, you can't understand it. And if you do, no explanation is necessary."

Regardless of what you think or believe about faith or lack of it for that matter, my problem starts when one person tries very hard to convince the other to join his/ her camp…..and the normal method of convincing is nothing short of verbal harassment….after all people mostly want to belittle each other's choice of life…to just tell them: “my way is better, is more correct, is right”…Oh that stinking battle of right vs. wrong!

What is it with us human race? Do we need the strength that comes from number? Does our personal belief and individual choices need some sort of “majority makes it more true”?

Sometimes I close my eyes and think all the wars that is going on in different corner of our world, happens everyday, over and over, in a smaller and sometimes spiritually nastier scale, between two people: being two neighbors, two colleagues, teacher and student, two paretners, two siblings, two friends, parent and a child, two lovers…..all in the name of “sharing ideas”, in the name of “giving you advice”, in the name of “teaching you”…..

What a nasty lives we lead sometimes….

And then we wonder why we do not have peace in Middle East!!!!!!!!!!

Love, change and beyond… Part One

2008-08-27T15:23:00.024-04:00

Note: Thanks to “Tête-à-tête / Parinaz” for re-opening my Pandora box….

So many times in any given week, I tell to myself if only everyone could be brave enough to take steps to know and live their inner dreams, we would have been living in a world much happier and considerably fairer.

Today, after many ups and downs in my life, I believe that we all have the ability to change the path that we chose to walk in, to change the life that does not make us happy, to recognize our most inner wish and dream….we just don’t all have the courage to act.

To exist is to change- whether this change is in a “maturing” direction or not.
I think to mature is to go on and create oneself endlessly…But the reality is that even the changes that we long for them the most, bring a certain level of melancholy…after all what we leave behind is part of ourselves. It is mourning for a death and the joy for a birth…in order to enter another world, we have to end and die in the previous one….and that needs tremendous courage.

But I also learned, in my not very calm life, that there is another element that is a “must” and a “necessity” for any change. Courage comes only secondary to that.

A need, a desire, a force…that is what is a “must” for a change. I think right there lays my dilemma. What does each one of us use as a force, in order to change? I wonder….

One of the scariest changes in my life came when I totally switched the course of my career. I shocked many people when I stopped being a student in a master degree program for molecular biology and started the road in a life time study of holistic medicine. I remember in a letter to a dear friend, I broke the news with the Robert Frost poem: “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I — I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.”

Today, years after that turning point in my life, I can not begin to understand the fear that surrounded my decision making moment. Was it abandoning the familiar and choosing the unknown? Was it the discomfort of starting from point zero? I don’t know…..But I remember very vividly what gave me the courage and became the force for that change: I was utterly unhappy and bitter with the road that I had in front of me.

One day the total lack of enthusiasm, hitting the rock bottom of unhappiness with my daily routine of life and never finding the answer to “why do I continue with this road?” made me JUMP….Jump from one side of the cliff to the other….and as Frost said: THAT MADE ALL THE DIFFERNCES.

I think the force there was the good old primal desire for survival. The bitterness would have killed me in a way that no “angel of death” could have!
Like any animal in this world, I had to survive….and to do that I had to change!

“They” say “love” can be a source for a change, “they” say “love” SHOULD be a force for a change….
Should it?
I don’t know….

Or maybe I should say: I am not sure I agree with the perception of majority of population about the love that brings “that sort of” change…and that always is a paradox to me.

All my life, the one constant point that kept me from drowning, was LOVE. Love was, is and always will be my North Star. I am an endless eternal lover. I love, love with all its sweet glories and bitter pains, with all the pains that comes from too much tenderness. I love, love with all the wounds that it brings me because of my own limited understanding of love at any given moment of life. It is a bleeding willingly and happily.

In the words of a sage: “love is a disease no one wants to get rid of. Those who catch it never try to get better, and those who suffer do not wish to be cured”.

As masochistic as it might sound, I do not regret any painful time that is caused because of love and longing that comes as a result of it. I bare my scars with honor, I cherish them like a woman that cherishes the pain of labor in order to taste that single moment of bliss of seeing her baby for the first time……

I have enough experince in my life to understand lust can be mistaken with love. I also came to understand and celebrate different types of love: from the roller coaster of Eros, to the safty and security of Philia, to the blissful, heavenly feeling of Agape….

To love so deep that you wake up and give thanks to be alive one more day, only to love again – that is the pure purpose of life….Loving on its own, in how ever shape or form it is, worth living in this world….

Does this make me too idealistic? If that is the case, so be it.

In all honesty, I gave up on the concept of ideal and real years ago…I am not sure anymore what exactly is realistic in this world, while reality changes so dramatically with each and every perception.

Having said all this about love, I do not belive LOVE brings any change other than making one person a better version of herself / himself. I am not sure love SHOULD bring ANY changes other than that….

And this is my paradox….

Should a lover be a reason to change? And if yes, does that change really a change? What if one day we will open our eyes to a whole new world, a world that does not “feel” that person any more? Should we get rid of the “changes” and move on?

We love, what the lover’s love. But do we ignore and abandon what we love as an individual?

I cherish the word of one of my all time favorite authors, Saint Exupéry, when he said “Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction”.

In all honesty I cherish more the gazing so deeply at each other in order to find each others differences, uniqueness and deep inner beauties and ugliness…to find, celebrate and love them is a heavenly dimension of love, a dimension that can add so much to the lovers’ “growth” and “maturity”.

I think more than anything I believe in what “Prophet” said – and hope to love like that before I take my last breath:

“Love one another, but make not a bond of love:

Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.

Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf

Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,

Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.

For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.

And stand together yet not too near together:

For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.”

To love or to hate?!

2008-08-17T22:04:00.009-04:00

Momma was sad in last few days. I am struggling very hard with the thought of how to teach you angels to be in love with our very beautiful ugly world.

So many times the ugliness can prevent any positive emotion toward the world that we live in and yet they are so many people that are in love with this world and when you ask them about it, they describe the world that they see through their rosy glasses...it is their version of the world, their reality which does not include the ugliness…

They say ignorance is bliss…that maybe so, but one can argue that ignorance can be a crime of conscious!

We live in a beautiful ugly world…what a paradox! Just like life itself.

While I am typing these words, think about how many war is going on simultaneously between different countries and nations; how many genocides are happening; how many children are dying from hunger; how many people are suffering from lack of freedom in all its shapes and forms; how many people are suffering from fast spreading diseases that one can argue being man made or not; how many little girls being sold for prostitution; how many fathers have to sell their kidneys so that they can use the money for their sick children; how many mothers have to travel across the world and be nanny to other people’s children in order to put food on their own children’s table; how many little girls have to be sold in very young age to marry to much older men in order to become slave to them in every means…

Watching a documentary about women in pre and post invasion in Afghanistan brought me into the state of uncontrollable sobbing and tears. Your daddy first tried very hard to calm me down and joke about all the pregnancy hormones but very soon he just looked at the TV screen with a sad look on his face and shook his head constantly.

With all these sadness, I still want you to never hate the world that we live in.

The act of “Loving”, on its own, whether it is in the shape of Eros, Philia or Agape, is one of the most beautiful scenes of our world….Just that alone, worth living…trust me!

Both time when I got pregnant, so many people told me how courageous I am for choosing to bring new lives in this world. I am not sure how much of it is the matter of courage and how much is the matter of hope.

I believe I am hopeful…Hopeful that new lives, the babies that are coming to this world, will one day make a change.

For you my son: I hope with all my heart that you become a man that respects women from all ages and backgrounds. I wish you become a man realizing that women are precious, unique and honorable. They are different from men but equal to them…after all we are all belonging to human race. I hope you become a man that doesn't hesitate to cry when it is needed and doesn't hesitate to show his love and compassion….and at the same time I hope you be courageous enough to confront evil with knowledge, wisdom and a strength that comes from humility.

And for you, my baby on your way: I am not sure you will be a boy or a girl. Either one of them is precious beyond words. I hope you become a human being that respects all beings from all backgrounds, to love life and to be a compassionate and honest adult.

And for both of you: I hope you not only become tolerant toward differences but cherish them in life…I hope you become adults that try to change our world toward more compassionate and loving place. Even if what you do will be some small tiny steps, it will be so priceless.

When my time comes to leave you, I will have such a peaceful moment if I realize that I helped you in any way in becoming kind, compassionate, considerate and honest human beings. What an easy sweet last breath that will be!

“There is a war going on out there….

2008-08-10T15:45:00.006-04:00

….and no one ever told me about it!”

That is what I told my friend when we were walking toward the car - I said the sentence with certain degree of surprise and amusement. I think she was more amused by my cluelessness.

Well the story begins when I found myself in a three - ring circus.

I was accompanying my friend to a causal, friendly (!!!) gathering between numbers of mothers that want to become “good friends” but in more accurate terms they are just acquaintances.

It was my very first attendance to such a “fun get together”(!!!), considering that my nature is not built in a way to find friend “this way”….truly no judgment or questioning for the people that can do this road. In all honesty there are times that I thought my life would have been easier if I was swimming with the other members of any “school of fish”.

When I had the little boss, a few good hearted moms suggested to me to join these “club” like gatherings that all the new moms are there and “the babies can be together” and mothers can be so at ease by sharing their stories and all….

My first response was that “but the babies are not going to be together…mostly they sleep or suck the breasts or bottles and even later on they will only parallel play until around 18-24 months”….and their response was that “but you need an adult company otherwise you will go crazy!”….

I really did not need one. To the surprise of the people that really don’t know me, I am really good and in my element when I am JUST with my baby (doing his type of activities that changes with his age). My adult company usually arrives around 6 pm in the shape of the better half or once in a while it will be my close good couple of friends for 2-4 hours.

I am a solitary person; I told you so, didn’t I?!

Anyway, against my better judgment I accompanied my friend….mostly because my dear friend did not want to attend this first “mom’s night out” alone (between semi strangers I may add!) – She nagged for weeks that I am much better in small talks and everyone naturally talk and tell their stories to me… and I can go with her and be a buffer zone for her…-

Well I went….I became surprised and even amused…but deep down I ended up being utterly disappointed and sad by our gender….

In the middle of all those chit chatting and birth stories and goo goo and ga ga…suddenly my radars gave me some alarming alerts. Like a good German Sheppard my ears moved!!!!

The heated “topic” which more and more sounded like an argument, was between two teams: Working moms vs. stay at home moms (Mothers that were studying were in the first category)….

And for the life of me, I DID NOT know that apparently this “war” was going on for a long while.

The issue was more about the subjects such as which one is better or more precisely which one is more admirable and which group has it tougher and works harder….and therefore is a better woman and a better mother.

Well, as usual, I decided to only listen. That is a homeopath hat which very naturally fits my head. If one does that type of listening – the type that is just takes the role of observation- an enormous amount of information about the personalities can be gathered.

Very soon, I just noticed how much this situation is important to each mother in the group. I mean they talk about it with such an investment of energy and emotion…I could see some degree of guilt, lack of self confidence and not being sure of their decisions were playing a role in this “boxing match”…

Oh guilt the good companion of women and let’s not forget the constantly questioning our decisions, that good old friend of mothers….

While my position was enormously amusing and comfortable, it did not last long. Two of the mothers, knew me in my profession due to few people that were / are my patients. So out of no where I realized the eyes are on me and I am being asked “and what do you think?”…the person that asked this question did not waste any time to “recruit” me in her group: “working mom”. She continued with the same breathe “well you are a working mom. I know how busy your practice is. You must agree with us”.

My friend chuckled. I exchanged a familiar look with her…the look that says “Well I guess I am diving in”….

I looked at the other group, the stay at home mothers. They were looking at me with some degree of hostility. Truly that is what I felt…and interestingly there was no need for that.

“In all honesty considering that I cut my hours of practice a lot and practice only in the weekend, I don’t think I fit your category well enough. After all during the week I am a full time stay at home mom (silence for few seconds)...and I am LOVING IT”!

Well I think that last sentence was a punch…not that I intended…well I am not sure whether I intended or not!

Suddenly everyone was talking at the same time. Among those sentences I could hear “no, still you are a working mom”, “you know you can bring a stay in Nanny and go back to work full time”, “I know a very good person that can take care of your child”….and so on.

So I had to just make sure my voice became loud enough when I talked again: “but you missed my point, I love it. I even consider totally putting my practice on hold for a while. Don’t get me wrong, I have a job that I love, but still I CHOOSE to be a stay at home mom. Not because my job was not successful, not because I did not like it or forced to give it up. I think if a woman has a blessing of making a choice then she can make a choice based on what she likes and suites her life….and believe it or not for this stage of my child’s life I like to be a stay at home mom and be with him. That is me. Not that I say everyone should be this way or not….”

Well apparently that last sentence was not forceful enough. The working mom felt attacked. This is when one of them said something that unfortunately brought me out of my “observation” position….I became engaged. Up to that point I was just there…observing….right at that moment I became “invested”…this is how easy it is to suddenly become part of a war!

One of the working moms stated that in order for a woman to bring up a “complete” child and make him or her better member of society, she has to work and “actively” be part of that society. Otherwise the woman does not have ANYTHING to contribute to the “education” and “mental and emotional intelligence” of the child. The child of working mother will always have a more mental and emotional stability….because he or she will have exposure to others and not be “pampered by mother all the time”……

Oh how that touched a sore point in my heart…..

The reality is that I have absolutely no doubt about the decision that I made, I am very secure in what I chose in my life as a mother.

While other mothers became offended as a mother and some of them became extremely emotional, that woman’s statement did not touch me as a mother but surprisingly it touched me as a child!

I had to collect myself…because what she said brought up a life time of memory, loneliness and pain.

Suddenly I found myself talking and this time very emotionally invested: “Did your mother worked when you were growing up?”

She responded that no but her mother always wanted to work and always complained that why her father was oppose to it, that she made sure all her daughters love working because that was HER dream and it became their dreams….and then she turned to me and asked: “WHY?”….

“Well, I am the child of a mother that worked full time. She had a very high prestige and extremely high demanding job. She loved it and never thought anything other than being a working mom. So as a result I am the child of a mother that worked full time and even more than full time. I can testify that there was absolutely no emotional stability for me as a child. I was always more mature than my age, I had to learn to be independent much sooner than my pierce, I had to watch my mother go through all the routine of household while she was so tired that she could not talk a single word… and I felt so sad for her that I had to make sure to not add anything to her chores…all of these while I was a toddler, a child and a teenager. My mother made sure that I was educated and trained in many different subjects of science, literature, arts and sports; but the reason behind her decision had nothing to do with being a working mom…mostly it had to do with her very perfectionist personality….”

Well the rest of that night was a history…at the end no one really came to understand anything about other person’s point of view. So sad…so sad….

I think majority of the women do not have the blessing to choose. Our ultra work oriented societies (especially the western, first world countries) demand working woman go back to work and sometimes the maternity leave is not even for one full year.

The job provides not only the second income but in some countries it brings the much needed health insurance for the family. Some women are single mothers and have to work to put the food on the table….so all these aside, a small percentage of the women have the choice: to go back to work or to stay at home.

Don’t get me wrong, a second income ALWAYS makes the life easier. No “if” or “but” about it.

So the choice comes when they can “afford” to survive and live with one income – not as easy as with two incomes but still can survive.

Right at that moment, the woman has to admit to herself that whatever choice she makes is based on her personality and preference….which was made by her childhood, her upbringing, her understanding of what kind of person she is and how she needs and wants to be in life, her feeling and perception toward motherhood, her parenting style, her relationship with her partner and so on….

Did my working mom have an influence on my choice in life? It had an influence consciously and subconsciously. I had no doubt about it. But so did so many other factors, including the awareness that I gained about myself as a woman and what I need and want in life, the type of parenthood that I aim to reach, as well as my relationship with my partner and some other aspects….

In my opinion, none of these elements has anything to do with other members of the motherhood society. Why do we need to attack other people’s choice in order to make ourselves more at ease with our choice? I always wonder that!

Let’s face it, motherhood is NOT a job, a mother is never off the clock. Whether a woman decides to stay at home or go back to work, each one will have 24 hours demanding duties, both have responsibilities that the other does not know anything about it.

None of them has a privilege over the other, non of them is a better or worse mom…they are just women, trying desperately to live their lives, the lives that contains the choices that they made, the choices that the society forced them to make and the choices that their gene and up bringing engraved in their psyche….

Oh life would have been much easier if the daughters of Eve would have been more compassionate to one another!

A miracle that we call LOVE

2008-08-04T15:09:00.010-04:00

I am a solitary person. Anyone that knows me well, can tell you that very easily you can categorize me as “introverted”. No matter how talkative I may “seem” to the outside world (which I do seem like that), I live inside my head and heart.

Let’s face it, we can talk for hours and not say a thing that is in any relation to “us” as an individual…

Maybe this is why I like this blog land so much. I mean there are not more than 5 people that connect my two worlds to one another….

I can be free here…what a freedom it is: anonymity…One can be much freer here than in the “real” world…that outside illusional land…

Every time I come to my blog land, I find such grate materials in “nothing” and they end up being “everything”…all these “nothings” that meant more to me than so many some things that I talked about in my daily routine of life…

My friends tell me that I am “close”, “keeping so many things to myself”, that it takes very long time for me to let someone come to my intimate circle. They are truly accurate in these descriptions.

In my book of life the term “friend” is being used very loosely in western society – and for that matter “word” in general is being used so carelessly by human race…no consideration for its deep hidden power.

Like Eskimos that have many words for the “snow”, I have different words for what society calls “friend”…I call a person a “friend” when they are truly a friend…. So my intimate circle for sure has only an entry visa for the people that are friends to my heart.

There is only one place that I am totally and completely my true self, free with no boundary: at home, with those I love the most in this world.

And this little home of mine became a whole universe, became bigger than universe… full of love, life, energy, activity, and passion….Life changed. The breath of life visited my little home and shook it profoundly, little more than 2 and a half years ago…

I, who once couldn't stand to sleep with anyone touching me, can only rest easy with a little toddler toes and elbows poking into my back.

I seek him out, this little creature of chaos, untamed energy, drool, noise and toddler’s sweat.

I pull him onto the sofa; he crawls onto my lap, move around to make his place comfortable over the spot between my knees or on my chest and under my chin.

He settles into me, cheek on my chest, soft curls tucked under my chin.

OH how he draws me out of my head and into his world. I am present and in the moment in a way I never thought I could be….no mastery in Zen, you just need an “in loveness”….

He is my everything….My work, my frustration, my exultation, my solitude, my energy, my rest, my bliss, my soul, my life, my heart, my peace.

I breathe his breath, the air that leaves his lungs…I smell his hair…I feel his body…and I wonder “can I ever love anyone like this?”….

And right at that moment I look down at the tiny little bump on my belly, the bump that is becoming more and more visible to the outside world…I get my answer right there and then….with no need to see the little one that is there in me, I just feel how much I love him or her….the miracle is not having one child or ten for that matter, the miracle is how love expands, grows, becomes a universe all on its own….and there is not a single split or crack in it…it just becomes more…more…an infinity….what a miracle LOVE is!

Three is passed…

2008-08-01T14:24:00.008-04:00

They say a picture worth thousands words…

Well for the glory of this news I will put up two pictures with one massage:

For those of you who can not see them clearly- from top to bottom it says:
Pregnant (OH YA!)
Positive (Hooray)
TWO lines (And that is yes and yes and thousand YES)

Got it?

By the way the first one is the digital pregnancy test. Since I saw the ad on TV, I was so eager to use it one day. They made it sounds so COOL…When I was pregnant the last time, this was not in the market (it feels like the last time was so many years ago...)...and I can testify that this digital one truly holds its reputation in the ads: it is the most advanced and sophisticated piece of equipment that you ever peed on:):):):)

I was speechless from joy when I found out….I had to hold back my tongue and sometimes bite it, so that I won’t scream the news from the rooftop (my better half and I stick to the tradition that does not tell anyone until three months is passed)…

Well my dear blog, three months is passed…

In all honesty before taking the test I just knew it…I knew it exactly the morning that my better half reported that the night before I did NOT wake up when our son called for me. He told me, for the first time ever, it was him that woke up without my voice calling his name.

The better half was highly amused about this whole incident, mostly because the only thing that works like magic and makes him jump out of bed –without even knowing why he is doing it or what time it is or what should be his next move- is my voice calling his name with a certain (hmmmm, well) force :):):)

His exact words to me that morning were “Oh ya, you were pretty unconscious”…and right there and then I knew it!

For a very light sleeper like me (who jumps out of bed with the slightest noise through baby monitor), only the fatigue of the first trimester can put me in the unconscious state (and for those of you who experienced pregnancy, you know which fatigue I am talking about!)…I knew that I am pregnant with no need for any test…but OF COURSE I took all three tests….Hello my name is “Obsessive” and I need to be sure and DOUBLE SURE and ….!!!

Saving all the glorious details of discomfort -which let’s just be on the record here and say: who ever named the stupid “morning sickness”, was someone without a uterus….Morning, shmorning….it can last 24 hours a day and I am not kidding about that….you wake up in the middle of the night to go for very much needed pee…and then you have to wonder whether to sit on the toilet or bend with your head down!

So even with all that and much much more..... I ABSOLTULTY LOVE, ADORE AND CHERISH being pregnant….I loved it with the little boss and I love it this time…

In my perception, pregnancy is such a primal sensation and in this day and age that unfortunately none of the primal sensation survived thanks to our fast paste technological life, I for one cherish any primal feeling that I can experience….it taps directly into that part of human psyche that is collective, universal, eternal and beautifully divine.

So far in my life being pregnant is the single experience in the world that can make me naturally feel unbelievably close to another being and close to divine at the same time…so close to another soul that there is no beginning and no end, there is no boundary that separate us for that nine months…it is pure bliss of heaven….

That sensation of being “ONE” with another soul, “ONE” with universe and ultimately with divine is beyond words…to be the holy alter for creation…it is magical…it transcends time and life…it is living in eternity every single minute for 9 glorious months…

So no need for any more words...they just clutter the feelings...only one more thing:

Thank you God for granting me this bliss one more time…
I am beyond thankful to God and to this soul that chose me and unbelievably humble for the opportunity to accompany another angel in her / his journey from the start….I hope I will be worthy of this gift and the blessing.

Mirror, mirror on the face!!!

2008-07-28T15:53:00.019-04:00

I had a surreal experience during the weekend. The experience brought a scene back to me…a scene from many many years ago!

You know how it is… you can live your daily routine of life, go to your work and talk to people, respond very intelligent responses, cook, eat, do the laundry, play, laugh, even cry…and still somewhere deep in your brain or heart or subconscious or where ever it is (!!!), something is playing over and over like a broken record.

But let me take few steps back….

Have you read Demian from Hess? One of my very favorite authors….
There is a paragraph in that book:

“The things we see are the same things that are within us. There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life…”

Well, sometimes something is so deeply rooted in our psyche that years and years will pass and we do not even know about it…and one day something happens and BOOM! You will be hit with the memories, sensations and what they represented to you ALL YOUR LIFE!

Saturday night, my little boss was running…as usual full force, not really paying attention to any obstacle on his way…more like: “Oh you are there…I am sure by the second that I reach you, you will disappear or I become Hercules and take care of you somehow”…I swear, I sometimes have to close my eyes to save myself from heart attacks that I might get just by sheer panic of “WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN IF….”

Anyway, the little man was running full force. Somehow the prospect of bed time charged his battery more than usual and in his P.J. he was chatting and running from one room to the next and his path was so close to our stair case with its wooden carved rail…so obviously it is not his problem that the wooden rail is there or if he hits that, it might hurt him!!!!!!!!!!!

As I am walking toward him to somehow calm him down for “nighty night”, I just saw the whole thing in slow motion…he hit the side of his head and face to the rail while he was running in my direction full force…He screamed, ran into my arms…I kneeled down and was trying to sooth him from one hand and assess the trauma from the other hand…

Well he had a little red bump that would become a bruise in few minutes…nothing that a dose of good old Arnica could have not helped…I started to instruct my better half to hold him and put some gentle pressure and ice on the site of the accident while I went downstairs to bring Arnica (and by this time little boss forgot all about the “boo boo” and was more annoyed that why we are not allowing him to run or play…)…

I was walking downstairs that it all hit me…I almost got buried under the avalanche of a memory…Me being 13 years old, the parking door bounced back and hit my head with full force…I could not see anything because of the blood flow running down into my eyes, the shock numbed my system so much that I did not feel any pain and yet I saw my parents kneeling in front of me…their faces were HORRIFIED…their faces were so unbelievably shocked and scared as if they were looking at the most scary scene ever….those pairs of horrified eyes brought me out of my shock and I screamed “I want a mirror!”…

Think about it: I recall so well that I did not feel any pain at that moment, but I was so scared of what I might see in the mirror…well I ran to the car to use its mirror and I was shocked. My face was all blood and the only thing I could see was the open wound in the middle of my eyebrow…the rest is just foggy memory of my parents rushed me to the hospital and I do not remember a single memory after that…Oh but I do recall my sensation: “I look terrible, I look deformed!”…

I am not sure was this because of my parents shocking faces at that first moment that they looked at me or because I looked at the mirror or for any other reason…well the wound healed, I have a scar in the middle of my eyebrow that with passing of years it is truly much less visible and with minimum make up it is totally invisible…but in reality it took 19-20 years in order for the scar to become invisible to MY EYES. I don’t think of it or feel it anymore…

I think my perception of being beautiful changed that night. I was always being told that I was a beautiful baby and a stunning girl. At age 13 while puberty starts to show its sign with awkward facial features and body growth, I still remember being praised a lot for my beauty. But after that night, whenever I heard someone telling me I was beautiful, I would feel utterly disconnected from those words. They were shallow words with absolutely no meaning for me. The words did not make me sad or happy…they were just white noises.

The reality was that I never felt beautiful from that year on. The only time that I felt totally and absolutely beautiful was on my wedding day. I was truly a stunning bride, everyone said that and more important than that I felt it so deep. I did not need to hear others or look in the mirror to know how gorgeous I looked. There was nothing wrong with my face, makeup, hair and my smile!

I remember after the wound healed properly one day my mother gave me my very first piece of make up equipment: an eyebrow pencil. She showed me what I can do with it. I mean for a person like me that really is not into make up – and do not have patience or any interest for it what so ever (I talked about it in one of my earlier posts) - that eyebrow pencil became part of necessity….

My mother and I never talked about it after, until couple of years ago. By that time I really did not have an ugly perception of my wound. A subject came up and I brought the story of my first eyebrow pencil to my mother’s attention. She looked at me with sad eyes and told me she was so afraid that people might tease me and this is why she thought the best way is to show me how to hide it.

We do the best we can in situations. Those “best” come from our own perceptions…but still it is the best, especially if there is a noble intention behind it. I now believe it with all my heart.

But I wondered so many times that the alteration in my perception happened because of those shocking, horrified faces in front of me…or was there any other reason? The story could have unfolded another way and I might have been teased or not…and if I would have been teased, I might have taken it to heart or not…well we never know, would we?!

The memory showed its face exactly the moment that little boss hit the wooden rail…But this time it was not the memory of the sensation of being ugly or deformed. It was the memory of a parent’s eyes…

I am a parent now. Accidents will happen…we all know that whether we are parents or not…mothers will skip heartbeats with every wound and scratch…and now I am so aware of my face, the face that will look into his eyes when he has a pain…he will look into my eyes and use them as a mirror and this mirror will tell him so much… He will ask this mirror consciously or subconsciously: “mirror mirror on the FACE…” and this mirror can change his perception for a very very long time…..sometimes for a life time…

Special Delivery

2008-07-24T22:48:00.006-04:00

My dear little boss,
Tomorrow you will be 22 months old. Soon it will be your 2 years birthday. How can another year have gone by so quickly? Where did time fly my boy?

OH I remember your birthday so well…For me it was just yesterday that I gave birth to you, in a hospital's room that was as dark as possible due to request of your ultra sensitive Mamma….

It was just yesterday that I hold you for the very first time and whispered in your ears how much I love you, how thankful I am that you chose me to be your Mamma and how gorgeous and adorable you are….It was just yesterday that I kissed those tiny fingers and toes endlessly….It was just yesterday that you peed on me for the first time (and let me tell you that it was not the last time my dear boy)….

You cry and I melt. You laugh and I melt. You make me crazy with your constant running, “disobedient”, tantrums and your mischievous acts …and I still melt.

I am always afraid of forgetting all the little details that are just there for mothers to see and feel.

I've wanted to note all the things you've been doing… all the things that change from week to week, month to month, year to year. I've wanted to record them down somewhere before I forget. But life keeps getting in the way.

It's a tight ship we're trying to run, especially with the fatigue of the end of the days that carries on to the next mornings, day after day….

There is all kind of things that must get done, all kind of not very important but never the less necessary in life: Cooking, Cleaning, Laundry. Doctors' appointments…Mundane tasks and everyday chores…Daily routine of life…. It is so easy to forget what really is worth cherishing and remembering.

I know I will forget when was it exactly that your hair started to become curly…but I will remember how thrilled I was with the sight of those familiar curls, mirror of mine.

You showed your personality to me from the very first night that you were out of me. I say that and people give me strange look of “impossible”…but it is true. Even the nurse in the hospital told us that….There are certain qualities about you that are so unique and so persistent…you my boy, knew what you want from the very first night. You did not want to be in that hospital bassinet from the very first hour, even though the bassinet was right beside my bed the entire time. You made sure that your opinion be heard….thus you spent the entire first night in Mamma’s arm…Whole night, you were calm and at peace, in my arms….while I spent the night looking at you – and did not sleep even for one minute- you spent your first night content to sleep in my arms…I had to wake you up to breastfeed otherwise you were very happy with your warm and soft “bed”!

Indeed you are a wise, curious, chatty and sympathetic soul. You are in love with water all your life and can become very naughty when you want to play with water at ANY cost…

From very early on I realized that you are very sensitive to sudden noises. You were only 2 months old that I realized you do not like it when I play piano…that is still a mystery to me considering that you absolutely LOVE music and are very tune to rhythm. Still after 22 months, the fear of piano is there. People tell me; maybe it is because I played Piano when you were in my uterus. But interestingly in the whole 9 months I only played piano 3 times….

You are a stunning child; a watcher and a mover. Your ability to observe amazes your father and I…and more stunning than that: you can be a non- stop mover and an observer all at the same time.

In past month you started to show a very delicate sense of humor. I am amazed by how profoundly humorous are the subjects that make you laugh.

You are a toddler now. At least that is the correct use of vocabulary. But you will always be MY BABY.

Memory is a tricky business my love. We humans have a tendency to remember the many challenges but few of the rewards….But I know there was absolutely no challenge in last 22 months that was not rewarded to me 10 times more.

I know there will be times that as you bounce and run and chat and play tricks, I just want some quiet. I know there will be times that I will beg for an instant of peace…I know there will be many times that we disagree and go head to head…but that is OK my love. That is ebb and flow of life…change will come and as sad as they make me, they also bring joy to my heart.

Life can be such an interesting thing…I pray for you to be in love with life. To remember that life is a blessing and should not be wasted….I pray for you to live to the fullest of your dreams…But all those wishes can be left for another letter….

Memory…Memory is a tricky business my sweet….a tricky business. But I know for sure that I won't ever forget the kisses you started giving me with great exuberance….I will never forget the very first time that you told me “Mamma, I Yove you!”…How could I ever forget that?

Oh my boy, each day since you came has been another in which we all seem to wonder what we did without you.

You are a delightful soul my dear. It is a pure pleasure to spend time with you….I never knew the depth of joy and love, until you came to my life….

Remember, I will ALWAYS love you…and I try my best to make it unconditional...

Mamma

Let me out…I don’t want to play the game anymore!

2008-07-20T15:46:00.013-04:00

Do you think it is anything out there more difficult than relationships? I mean no matter what type of a relationship it is, whether it is between two lovers, parents and child, siblings, friends, colleagues, neighbors or two strangers in the bus…what ever the rule of the game is, it comes down to being a game….

I mean more intense the relationship is, more emotionally you are invested in it, more energetically you will be consume by it. Each participant in the relationship have his/ her own set of rules for the game (and the politic of the games sometimes brings the desire in me to just CUT…a sharp, clean cut of the knife and NEVER look back)…

Each player in the relationship has his / her own set of backgrounds, emotional baggage, memories, hurts, wounds, and perception of the world around him / her…OH PERCEPTION!

Couple of you, commented few times that I love the concept of “perception”. I really do. The more I live, the more I realize that ALL is perception.

This weekend, thanks to a series of hurtful personal events, the intensity of my daily routine went few hundred Richter higher than usual (and physically it was really not good for me but what can one do other than go through them)…. and like any good chemical reaction, when that kind of energy being released it can generate a “snap”…for me, the snap was more inward…as that is more my style. I dived into myself, went “to my cave to lick my wounds” as one of my very good friends will say…or I went for a time out to “feel”, “dwell”, “analyze” and “contemplate” as my better half will say!

Well if we allow the shock and hurt (and all range of emotions in between) to pass – then we might let ourselves dig deeper into the meaning behind all the “stories” and “games”….or at least in a healthier situations, one will do that eventually.

For me, when a day, a week, a year or sometimes a life time passes, and the hurts fade away (and as I said some of the wounds bleed for a life time so no chance to deal with it this time around…bummer!)…then what always mesmerizes me is how there are recurring scenarios in ones life that triggers such familiar and strong emotional responses.

Really in a bigger scheme of one’s life, it is like scenes after scenes are being played by different actors but the story line is exactly the same.

In reality, the situations that the most feel like a thorn in your side are those that pose the greatest potential growth in your life. But most of the time, the hurt is too much, the cut is too deep and the shock of the event is too intense that the recovery time takes a long time, even a life time…and of course in the mean time, life continues, and another scene sooner or later comes along with the exact story line only different players.

Of course let’s not forget, the more one is “attached”, the tougher it is to disconnect and “just observe”….

Harmony is the key word that everyone hopes for in any relationship…and yet look around you!

How many times per day you see a non harmonious relationship? No matter how deep or superficial that relationship is...granted, the less attached you are to the participant of the game, the easier it is for you to walk away…and relatively much less deep the cuts are at those times….

But then there are those individuals in our lives that are as vital to us as our lungs or our hearts…attachments are being formed so early in life that the concept of walking away is not even comes in the dictionary of those relationships. The cut comes so much deeper in those scenarios. I have a good number of bleeding wounds in different part of my soul, thanks to those beloveds of my life….and yet without them, life as I know it will cease to exist.

Is it possible that expectation plays a role in inflicting those wounds? I believe so.

I mean we expect a certain emotions and actions from our lover, our parents, our children, our best friends…and what happens most of the times is that those expectation is so unreal…they are based on our own perception of life, based on our “games”…they are so far from how the personality and the character of those people are…it has absolutely nothing to do with the other party in these dances.

How many of us “accept” unconditionally? And love is nothing but unconditional acceptance…so how many of us love UNCONDITIONALLY?

I am contemplating this concept in last few days. I came to a very very sad discovery. I don’t think anyone – or anyone that I know- accept unconditionally…me included. The degree of acceptance is more or less in people, some more accept with less condition, but the key word is that “less” condition….sometimes that “less” is really “less” and those are the times that we are truly lucky…but with NO condition…well I am searching the world now with a flashlight in my hand…

I was looking at my son when I realized this very very sad truth in my life. Right there and then in my heart, I promised him that I try my best to love and accept him UNCODNITIONALLY. I shivered…because to reach to that degree of evolution, one is almost back to Garden of Eden!!!
But I promised I “try” and that is the best I can do.

P.S.: Have you watched “Love Story”? I always weep so hard when it comes to this sentence:
“Love means never having to say you're sorry.”…
How do YOU perceive it? I mean it can mean different things to different people. Do you perceive it as:
“You love each other so much so there is no need to apologize here. Becuases you know the other person didn't mean to!!!”
or does it mean
“if you love me, why did you hurt me?”….
WHY DID YOU HURT ME?!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not a happily ever after...

2008-07-18T15:16:00.021-04:00

A note of caution: This is a LONGGGGG post...Reading this post may cause discomfort, frustration and boredom....after all it is not being considered a juicy subject...it is just about our creation....!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Once upon a time there was a man – which apparently was unbelievably clueless and gullible- and there was a woman which came from the man’s rib and was very naughty…and there was a serpent that carried the mission of seducing the woman…and then the woman obviously in her naughtiness seduced the man…and the little gullible man listened to her and they both ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge that made them be aware that they are naked head to toe…and right then and there the SHAME was born….OH THE SHAME!!!

Then the man, the woman, all their children and the children of their children and so on, and of course the serpent for that matter, were condemned to doom and gloom…

Well that is really the gist of the story…that is what became the basis for so many blames that was upon the women through the generation, that is the foundation for why the human race has to go through hell all the time and this whole little not so happy ending story is why we are plagued with death and disease…one should wonder that for people that ate the fruit of tree of KNOWLEDEG, our race ended up being more clueless than before, more dumb than ever…

This little “not so much fairy tale story” always tempted me…I never forgot the “condemned” look that I got from my religious teacher when I asked her why we are not celebrating Eve? Didn’t she show enormous amount of courage? She was a curious woman and pushed the boundary and wanted to KNOW…so what is so sinful about it?
Well I think that day I also learned how to censure myself from that moment on….Another grate religious lesson….

Years passed by, I became the student of mythology and through that I came to encounter the “Goddess” worship in the history of humanity…the worship of “Mother”... and then I started to learn how "all" got twisted…Some where along the road mother became this evil force that could be seductive, destructive and easily tempted and father became the poor little man that was just listened to his little wife and was mislead….It is amazing how our “Goddess” worshiper race suddenly became such a patriarchal beings….

Well you can read this little story in very well known resources. After all, all three “holy” books talk about it. They refer to this little “happy couple” as “Adam and Eve”…You can find their not happily ever after life in the Torah, the Bible and the Quran.

If one really is into researching, he or she can find so many references in Genesis, the Talmud, and Gnostic texts. Jewish tradition sometimes has some references to other wives of Adam’s. But Eve is the heroin of this glorious story!!!!

Among all the monotheism religion, Islam is the only one that regards Adam as “the first prophet” for the rest, Adam is just the man…the first father….

But the main gist of the “story” is the same…poor Adam, naughty Eve, the blissful garden of Eden, the serpent and the fall…oh the fall…the eating of the forbidden fruit.

In so many sculptures and paintings, you can even find the Edenic serpent being pictured as a “woman” and sometimes being referred to as “Lilith” (Hebrew לילית).

For me the most interesting one of these art works is the sculpture of Adam and Eve and the very visible (female) serpent at the entrance to Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. It is truly a work of art and a work of “MAN’s” perception….but I am getting ahead of myself here….

The interpretation of the Female Edonic Serpent refers to the seductive nature of that particular serpent (seductive and logically should be more feminine!!!) as well as emphasizing on its relationship to Eve.

In Jewish tradition they even take it one step ahead and interpret that Hebrew word of “Heva” is not only the name of Eve, but in its aspirated form is a female serpent.

In Islam there is not any direct reference of Eve’s creation, it is not recounted in the Quran. Some Islamic philosopher talked the biblical tale of her creation, that she was named because she was created from a living thing (her name means living).

The Torah gives an etymology for woman, or rather the Hebrew equivalent (ish-shah), stating that she should be called woman since she was taken out of man (ish in Hebrew).

In Christianity the story of Adam and Eve had the major impact and became the basis of the doctrine of “Original Sin”. Saint Paul even talks about the fact that “death” is the result of “that” sin which “that” one man committed “and so death spread to all men because all men sinned,"…. (and don’t ask me how this generalization should happen…one man sinned and therefore all of us did / do / will be held accountable…whatever!!!)….

Even the origin of Baptism is thanks to our little story of Adam and Eve…as a mean to “wash away” the “stain of the hereditary sin”…In all accuracy the whole idea of “Original sin” is no where to be found in either old or new Testament.

Although both of them very frequently talk about the sinfulness of humans but neither talk about “original sin” and even “ancestral sin”. This whole idea – like many others “doctrine” in the Christianity – is there thanks to the “Paul the apostle”!!!!!!!!!!!

The Quran blames both Adam and Eve for eating the forbidden fruit and as a punishment they were both banished from Heaven to the Earth and were forgiven after…and because they got the punishment for it there is no ancestral sin.

Interestingly (and surprisingly) Muslims interpret that this even does not pose a problem of women inferiority to men. The concept of “Original Sin” doesn't even exist in Islam. But again there is so many “equivalent” to “Paul the apostle”…the ones that became more Muslim than the original Islam (so to say) and thanks to all those gentlemen (and all of them are gentlemen) we have a lot of blame on female gender….

The whole idea of Eve coming from “the rib” is specifically comes from Jewish tradition. According to the Torah God is described as causing a deep sleep upon Adam and then removing part of his body -usually this part Is being interpreted as a rib though in all accuracy the literal translation is non-specific, referring to "side".

I have to add this here that in another Jewish tradition God originally created Adam as a hermaphrodite and in this way the “human” was bodily and spiritually male and female both at the same time. God later decided that "it is not good for Adam to be alone", and therefore created the separate beings of Adam and Eve…somehow the whole idea of two people, from two separate spirit and body joining together to achieve a completion can be trace back to this one….You know what I mean: YOU COMLETE ME!

And then we have the FALL OF MAN…or what is simply being stated as “THE FALL”:

In Genesis, the first book of the Jewish and Christian bibles, God creates Adam and Eve... God forbids Adam and Eve to eat fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil.

The tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil was a tree in the middle of the Garden of Eden and God directly forbade Adam to eat from it and Eve at that time has not been created.

Life apparently going on blissfully in the Garden and I can imagine how bored Mamma Eve was. So….One day…

A serpent persuades Eve to eat fruit from the forbidden tree. Eve tempts and seduces Adam to share the fruit with her AND they immediately become ashamed of their nakedness….Actually that is the ONLY DIRECT result of eating the fruit of "knowledge" tree…makes one wonder: Ummmm the only knowledge in life is related to “nakedness”??? WOWWWWWWWW

Well what comes after that is very interesting.

The short version of the ending is that the couple and all their children and the children of their children were banished from the Garden. Apparently the whole reason for banishing them from the Garden and sent them to the Exile of hostile Earth, was to deny them access to the Tree of life (and, hence, immortality). So one can see where the theology got the idea that the death and disease is part of the punishment.

The detailed version of what comes after is little bit more interesting:

To the serpent God said: you did this and because of that you are cursed among all animals and wild creature. You shall be always on your belly and eat dust…and I will put enmity between you and the woman and between your offspring and hers

To the women God said: I greatly increase your pangs in childbearing. In pain you shall bring children and your husband shall rule over you and yet your desire shall be for him.
[Did anyone out there is starting to get some feeling of conspiracy theory here? I mean some how this can be a classic case of abuse]

And to the man God said: Because you have listened to the voice of your wife [Do you get this part? The man is apparently so dumb that only listened blind fully to the voice of little wife], and have eaten of the tree, curse will be upon the ground because of your sin [and this part for the life of me, I never got!!!!!].

The ground shall bring thorn and thistles for you and you shall eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground… you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

Considering that “the ground” is actually the “mother earth” and is the domain of the “Goddess” from the start of time with cave men AND having in mind that Goddess, the mother, was responsible to give blessings to “earth / ground” in order for any agriculture purpose, this whole little twist of punishment is even more interesting to read. So Agriculture "by the sweat of [their] brow” is a punishment….

Actually this whole “earth becoming part of the punishment” for the couple is also stated in Quran. But in actual text it does not says that first Eve got mislead, then Adam. It says: Iblis (Satan) misled Adam and his wife Eve to eat from a tree that was forbidden for them by God. Due to their disobedience, God ordered the removal of Adam and Eve out of paradise and down to earth. God promised that “the earth will be a dwelling place” for them and their children for a limited time (Until the Day of Judgment)….and it goes and says: If men and women obey God, they will lead a successful life on earth and be admitted into paradise as a reward.

I was fasinated when I found out that similar trees appear in other religions. The most relevant comparison of all is the iconic image of the tree “guarded” by the serpent which appears on Sumerian seals. The tree is the central feature of the Garden of the Hesperides in Greek mythology where again the GUARDIAN serpent has the name Ladon. In Buddhism,the Buddha became enlightened under the Bodhi tree.

And the most interesting link…the biblical tree is usually interpreted as representing sensual pleasure, other references to THE TREE in mythology and other poly theist religions talk about pure transcendent knowledge when there is a refrence to THE TERE.

In Hinduism, the Tree of Jiva and Atman is usually interpreted as a metaphor (yes you read it correctly: A MEAPHORE) concerning the soul, mind, and body.
There are a group of scholars in Christianity that do believe the Bible is filled with parables and the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil is actually a library or some other form of educational writings.

So somehow this little story became the base for knowledge, morality, judgment, shame, guilt and eternal stain on human race…. And then it starts: the war between him and her….

For me, this little story represents a very powerful woman. A woman in search of “wisdom”… a wisdom that had nothing to do with knowledge of nakedness…she wanted to know, to find out possibly what so many of us want to understand one day… that who are we? What are we suppose to do? Why are we alive? Is there ANY purpose, any dream, any responsibility toward ourselves and others we have to fulfill?

She pushed the limit…Did the punishment fit the crime?…well I am not sure she was punished. I think “men” punished her….is punishing her…the same way that wise women was burned on the fire for being wise, for being different, for being unique and daring…for being so much wiser than men….

I truly don’t have anything against wise men. I am a daughter to a wise father; a wife, lover and best friend to a wise husband; and above all I am a mother to an innocent boy which I hope one day becomes a very wise man….so I love, cherish and admire this creatures with Y chromosome. I just have to laugh when with these “stories”, with this wrong interpretation of myths, they make themselves so gullible and with no mind of their own.

Well who are we to say anything when men make themselves LOOK less wiser than they can be…

But again my God is a gentle, loving and forgiving one…my God is mother and father and anything in between….My God….

Complete me...

2008-07-15T22:58:00.014-04:00

As usual, right after my better half came home from work, I ran out of the house to take care of some tasks that I had to accomplish without a “toddler’s tornado"…

By mistake instead of turning on my CD / iPod, I turned on the radio…there was a music on with lyrics about loneliness, desperately searching for love and with hope to be completed one day….changed the channel, there was another music with a melancholic melody and lyric of being dumped after he mistakenly believed that he indeed found his other half and his soul mate…changed the channel and this time in my mind I made a bet: “there will be another desperate soul in search of a soul mate to complete her”...Ladies and Gentleman we had a winner!

My mind started wondering around. I am not sure was it the effect of that powerful moon or just the lyrics….I went down my memory lane…painful, happy…all mine…

Years ago thanks to Joseph Campbell, I fell in love with mythology and symbolism and like any other love of my life, I dived into it with whole body and soul…I started to study it very deeply and methodologically. The journey took me (and is still taking me) through anthropology, astrology (both western and eastern), mysticism and ultimately alchemy (...the journey is still going on in those roads slowly but steadily)…all of them acted like an “Emerald Tablet” and forced me to transmute and gain a new awareness about myself…Part of that awareness was understanding how superficial and in fact selfish my understanding of love was / is….

Well I came to understand that there is no such thing as “another” person or a soul mate completing us…I think the whole idea is the illusion of “Hollywood” – let’s not forget the “Ahhh moment” of “Jerry Maguire”: “You complete me!”…..

Or possibly the whole ordeal is a desperate attempt of our psyche and a survival mechanism to numb the deep painful longing of our soul…

Even if one be lucky enough to find the “perfect” match (whatever that’s suppose to mean), still the need to become complete one day, will be there…

As long as I remember I searched for “THE” soul that complete me…that was my “Holy Grail”…And like “Galahad” or any other mythological hero in search of the grail; I knew that I must prove myself worthy before being able to unite with that soul….

Well I was in my very early 20’s when I met the person that became my best friend, my sole trusted companion in life, who later became my beloved husband…

I did find that “perfect” match, I refer to him in this blog as my better half and indeed he is my “better” half…

Our encounter for the first time was nothing short of pure synchronicity. When later on we went through all the events that came together in order for our path to join for that moment in time, we both were amazed in all the powers that were working somewhere behind the scene. Like any other couples we went through growing pain and still once in a while we go through them – after all life is not standing still and nor do we, we are changing and growing and pain and bliss are both part of that…and through all the ups and downs I believe he was and is my “perfect” match…

In my very superficial definition of love, for such a long time, I thought we are going to “complete” one another…well years passed, he brought so many other dimensions to my life, he took my soul to the most magical and supportive trips of lifetime and above all he made me laugh…he is possibly the only person in my life that can make me laugh whether I am very mad or very sad or both at the same time….and still I had the longing in my soul…I did not know why I do not feel complete?

How come I had the “love of my life” and I was still feeling the abyss of loneliness every time that I was diving deeply into my soul….

Oh that deep loneliness that was there since I could remember it…well what can I say? “Loneliness” was one of the demons of my life. I think I battled with it since I was in the womb of my mother and for sure it is one of my earliest memories in life...

We all have our own demons. Their names and shapes and subjects are different…and more important than that how we deal or not deal with them, will affect the course of our lives…

I came to believe that this particular “need” of my soul will be there until the end of time and nothing can be done about it.

Until few years ago when after a good painful period of my life, I came to a turning point and an epiphany…part of that epiphany was a deep change in my perception of life…and of course a change in my perception of love….

I came to realize that expecting to be completed by someone else is indeed a very selfish act…In my belief it is the ultimate dependency and like any other dependency ultimately it can cause so much pain and regret…

A love is suppose to free us, it is defined as the force that should make us brake all the boundaries…and yet we, with our actions, enforce boundary on it the moment that we “expect” something in return from the other party…and wow the highest expectation of all is the “need” to be completed by someone else...what a heavy responsibility that must be on the other person’s shoulder….

I came to understand that no one can fulfill that task for us…we need to become completed all on our own. The road to that destination is unique for each and every one of us. It is indeed a work in progress and sometimes the pain and discomfort of it makes us want to run to the other direction and give up the whole ordeal all together….

It is difficult, painful and maybe it takes all our lives to accomplish half the task…But does any one out there have a better idea? I mean why else do you think we are “living” at this moment of time on this particular universe that we call “home”….

Swiftly I turned into our driveway….turned off the engine and sat there in silence. My hand went toward the radio and turned it on again…it was the angelic voice of Enya, singing a song that I know by heart – ironic that with these verses I will end my trip down my memory lane:

“Forever searching; never right, I am lost
in oceans of night. Forever
hoping I can find memories.
those memories I left behind.

Even though I leave will I go on believing
that this time is real - am I lost in this feeling?
like a child passing through, never knowing the reason.
I am home - I know the way.
I am home - feeling oh, so far away.”

The journey…The destination

2008-07-10T22:11:00.007-04:00

If you go for a simple walk around your neighborhood with your toddler and if you are patience enough to ditch the stroller, you will be amazed at the little curious explorer that is walking beside you...

He will stop to check almost every small object on your way:
All the rocks which apparently are different from one another and apparently are one of the wonders of the worlds; then there are those dead leaves, sticks and simple dirt on the side walk and let’s not forget about ants…

The trip can be VERY long…and you have to remind yourself many times that not go crazy and this whole dawdling is just amazing…and if you allow yourself to be aware of “here and now”, somewhere in the middles of saying WOW for the 100 times to the smallest dirtiest rock on the road, “it” hits you

It hits you that for this little wise man the journey is as exciting as the destination…and the small details of the world are unbelievably irresistible…and precisely that is when a little “ZEN moment” happens…

I had those Eureka sensations most of the times that I had the pleasure of accompanying my little boss in these little trips…

But especially these days it is really easy to get out of the “adult” world and go into a little “Power of now” workshop when your mind is numb as a result of pure exhaustion and your heart has to take a coffee brake from all the mundane anxieties of life after few intense sick days that your little boss had…

I do not recall “Eckhart Tolle” says anything about above mentioned elements in his never ending pages of his famous book (or his practice guide for that matter!!!!)…well I am little judgmental of all the self help books in general!!!! – Another entry all together!

Somewhere in the intersection of life and necessity my body took a leap to Buddhist “stillness”….

Then the “Zen” moment ended – unfortunately – and as always busy mind took over…when this happens for me, I always experience a withdrawal sensation…and in this particular one I started to think when did “this” happen to me or shall I say to all of us?

For a second I wanted to say to all “human race” but I truly think there are many places on this earth that people still live there in a condition that we – the first world nations- consider as primal state….and I do not believe they go through “this”….

I truly believe that it is “us”…the people that are consumed with the self imposed rat race…the fear that comes with it, the sensation of duality and split that surrounds us as the result of all that "need" to survive in this “jungle”… and the abyss of loneliness that eats our soul every silent moment of our day and night….

Most of the times when I drive back from my clinic I think of these thoughts. I see patients that are NOT happy…not because of any and all physical ailments that they have…as a matter of fact for a long time now I came to this conclusion that not being happy, not “live” your life, happens way before the ailment on the physical body…

I mean everybody in some shape or form is in search of “peace”…of some kind of “salvation”…Let’s just face it, mostly that is the main reason why we get in the loop of possession…and when consciously or subconsciously we realize the fatality of all these attempts, the flood of depression hits hard…

Years ago, in my very personal and privet journey, I hit that place…that dark and bottom less abyss…at one of my lowest points a very wise man (who I know him as my dear “alchemist” and my “magician”) told me:
“This moment is that dot in time and space that you are one step away from despair and one step away from enlightenment….”

When I look back to that moment of my life, I can feel the rush of energy in all different directions…. I can feel that “dot”, the potent energy of it, the heaviness and lightens of the air that was going through my lungs and was coming out…as if that “dot” in the universe was the intersection of many different parallel universes that “my character” was playing parts in them…

Believe it or not, I still can recall the exact moment that I made the “jump” from one universe to the other…the moment that I “chose” one road over the others….

But it is so easy to reach to that point in life no matter which parallel universe you are choosing to live in…I see that every time that I take a patient case…I see how much people are sad, dissatisfied, depressed and braking down…people are poisoned with the bitterness…it is sometimes so potent that after those session I have to take sometime off to “spit it out” from my system…

Most of us live with no enthusiasm, no curiously, no love or even hate…there is a deep lack of passion that is ruling the daily lives…and then what happens is that there is absolutely no “desire” left…no desire to live or even to die….

We lost “peace”, we exchanged that with a life that we are leading, and we exchanged that for such a bargaining price that it is heart braking…

We treat our life in the compartments that we made in it and then we are wondering why we are loosing the sense of unity…

Somewhere down the road, most of us forgot that the journey is indeed as magical and wonderful as the destination…and that is what I mean by: “this” happened….

When did we let that wisdom slip away?
After all, once uopn a time all of us were toddlers, looking mesmerized at all the rocks in the road….weren’t we?

Vacations are so over rated!

2008-07-07T21:26:00.009-04:00

So little boss does not feel good since Saturday night….close to midnight. Why is it that all “hell brakes loose" when it is close to midnight and especially when it is weekends? I wonder!

So it was the good old fever first and then in the morning the bowel went crazy and loose and good old fashion diarrhea. He is 21 months old and since the first spoon of solid that went into his mouth, I am the one that cooked for him and prepared everything myself… in last few months he is eating what all of us eat (or I better say we are eating better because of him as all his food is organic and I prepare one meal per whole family - less salt in the food, no hot spices and NO SUGARE...not yet!)….So I am sure of the fact that it is not any food poisoning or any strange and unhealthy food…but when the baby goes to playground and touches everything... let’s not forget the very much cherished way of “put hands in the mouth…especially when you show signs of teething”…well all kind of things can go in there…and then come out one way or another!

I spare you from details of how it is coming out….you can imagine any shape or color that you wish….The fever is down since last night but we are working to heal the digestive tract…the grand HWY of life!

But that is not why I came to you tonight my dear blog…I came to your doorstep because of the conversation that I had with someone today….about “Vacation”….what an incident…to constantly change colorful poopy diaper, worry about his little body’s electrolytes, try very hard to maintain calm and cool when anxiety is consuming your heart and fatigue is consuming your body head to toe… and talk about vacation!

Well someone said “OH, how I wish I could go to a vacation..., I bet you do too?” and my automatic response was “NO! I don’t!”…my friend was familiar with our last get away (just the two of us - my better half and me)…and let’s just say it was a DISASTEROUS experience top to bottom…everything went wrong one way or another…and even my very optimistic hubby can not stop laughing when I tell him “find one good thing in that whole 5 days?" - well he still says: “Come on! Even all that hellish experience was funny!! and we were togeteher...that was so sweet and nice!”….really I am not sure he is optimistic or delusional!!!!

To be totally honest the one good thing is that when all goes wrong you feel very close to the one that is going through that whole ordeal with you...so he is right, we enjoyed being closer to each other by being utterly stunned and sometimes miserable by our vacation experience...

Still...optimistic or delusional??!!!!

So being familiar with all that, my friend said: “OH, I can understand…of course you don’t want to go anywhere”…

Later I thought about my answer and I realized I did not think of my glorious disastrous vacation when I replied to her…I though of what sensation the word vacation brought to me…

The sensation was this:
Vacation is just a code word for our adicted generation to work, work and more work…a code word for “lets spend unbelievable amount of energy (even more than our daily routine of life) and do all kind of different things and just pray and hope that we will have fun and…oh ya…lets not forget lets pretend we are independently wealthy and we are not worry for the bill that we will get after we come back home….

COME ON!!!!!!! Lets admit it….the truth is most of the people need another one of those “vacations” to get over the first one….

So when did this happened? I mean am I so sleep deprived, utterly tired and unbelievably beaten up by my days and nights that can not see any rest even in a so called vacation?

Well I am!

Why to pretend otherwise?

Let’s just say at this moment in “time”, right here and now – where the heck this here and now REALLY is?! – my ideal vacation is a hotel room with a comfortable bed and a good curtain to shut the light out…and I will lie down on their good mattress – preferably with my own water pillow- and sleep for god knows how many days and nights….

Well I can dream at least that I will do that…because the reality is that my gene defect personality will not allow for me to sleep for days and days…my ultra anxious nature will not allow for me to not think of all that goes on in that busy mind of mine…and above all I WILL MISS LITTLE BOSS SO MUCH THAT MY HEART WILL YEARN FOR THE POOPY DIAPER….

Welcome to motherhood!
It is messy, it is smelly, it is energy consuming, it is like living in a fog most of the time, it is an out of this world experience, it is heavenly, it is divine…no argument there! NONE WHAT SO EVER!

Please my little boss…feel better very very very soon…Mamma misses your constant running and all the mischievous acts that come with it…

Happy birthday Canada!

2008-07-01T15:07:00.002-04:00

I am proud to call myself Canadian… for many reasons and one being that I chose this country to belong to, on my own and not just by some twist of faith or accident or whatever you want to call the process of "being born" in a land!

With clear conscious and deep belief I can sing our national Anthem especially the line that says:
“From far and wide,O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.”

While more and more I am convinced that human race has a serious genetic disorder with the topic of tolerance to “individuality”; Canada is one place in this globe that I know, where all the people from different cultures, religions, languages, back grounds and life styles come together and LIVE... or at least try their best to live and let others live FREELY…WOW…the depth of possibility for human race!!!

My dear Canada, may you be showered with blessings today and everyday, the same way that you showered all of us that proudly call ourselves Canadian!

May God keep you “Glorious and free”.

May you always be healthy and wealthy…and while we are in the process of birthday wishes…may you never see any recession:):)

With all my love...

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

2008-06-30T23:05:00.011-04:00

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....

2008-06-24T22:14:00.003-04:00

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…

2008-06-15T23:04:00.013-04:00

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!

2008-06-12T22:20:00.008-04:00

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?

2008-06-07T14:55:00.007-04:00

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!

2008-06-04T21:05:00.008-04:00

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...

2008-06-01T14:29:00.009-04:00

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!”

“Was it a chicken first or an egg?”

2008-05-29T15:26:00.014-04:00

I am the type of person that when tired, I look as bad as I feel. I was passing a mirror and just happened to glance at it and “WOW! I REALLY do look shi…y”.

To accomplish anything these days seems impossible. I wonder where the energy did come from? Where has it gone- if there was any there to begin with?

There are so many things I don't want to do. Never cared to do… And yet these are the things that make us feel a part of the daily routine of life: planting the garden, cleaning out the crap and starting fresh…; all things that give us purpose and satisfaction.

Someone told me once: “In expending energy, we get energy in return”. Do we really? These days I don’t seem to feel anything but exhaustion, maybe because I am not “expending” any energy…But if I may ask dear universe: “Was it a chicken first or an egg?” – I mean shall I first get the energy from somewhere and then try to expend it…or…? No there is no “or”…It seems I don’t have ANY to start expending!!!

Most of the time these days, all I want to do is sleep, even if I rarely do. I mean I can not sleep a lot…that is not my nature, not in the gene pool…and yet I still want to. It is really a paradox on its own. I just want to crawl back under the covers and close my eyes….even if the sweet state of sleep does not come.

I am starting to think the life that we created in this first world countries, with all the advance technology and all the high and mighty things, is nothing but a rat race...

Oh STOP IT!…I became one of those people…the ones that complain all the time.

That is really embarrassing. Because after all what is it to complain?!!!!!!!!!!
One has to just look around to all the disasters (majors or minors) that is happening right at this moment in the world (or no need to go too far, we can just choose to look at all the pains that probably exist in our neighborhood!) and then realize that if we choose to do anything less than being thankful, it is highly disrespecful to whom ever or whatever we believe in...

So I better "suck it up" and just move away from the "mirror, mirror on the wall"!

Life can be a cruel joke sometimes…only nobody is laughing!

2008-05-27T21:45:00.004-04:00

One of my closest friends is going through her second adoption process with her husband. At the moment they are at the final stage of their process…the final leg of the journey so to say and they finally received a hopeful and good news last week.

But I have to say, the whole thing is a very excruciating ordeal. There is an obstacle after an obstacle, one heartache after another, one uncertainty after another…and one day you realize that the process took longer than an elephant’s pregnancy (22 months).

While I totally understand the tough process for the adoption considering all the child trafficking and child abuse in our world, still my heart goes to people like my friends. My heart aches with them as I go through the ups and downs every time, as every time my friend calls me in tears of agony or in tears of hope….and the only thing I can do is to pray…pray and pray and pray hard….

I pray for her to get her child in her arms very soon. I pray for myself to be worthy of motherhood and I pray for all of my other friends to be able to become happy with their choices….

I am in a very surrealistic situation at the moment. I am “swimming” in a number of pregnancies in my daily life. I was talking to one of the expectant mothers today and telling her the heart aching story of my dear friend.

As I was telling her all the not so entertaining stories, I happened to mention that we do not appreciate enough how lucky we are to be blessed with our babies this way (through our own pregnancies I meant). She responded: “Are you sure? I mean I myself am truly scared of all the loss of freedom and the responsibilities that comes at the end of my pregnancy”…

I mean don’t get me wrong. The whole process of pregnancy is nothing short of a miracle:
Such a slim chance for a Sperm to meet an Oocyte at the right time at the right place – after all this is one thing in life that REALLY “timing” is EVERYTHING for it…..and if you really think about the physiology of the whole nine yard, you realize that almost everything in the “environment” is against this “happy union”:):)

And then the hard work begins!!!
The “little one”- truly little one- starts his/ her journey down to the correct destination which is uterus and no other place (otherwise there will be the misfortune of ectopic preganncy)…. then starts to “hang in there” – quite literally!

And then goes all the “what if” and “Oh my God” and “please, please, please…”….and lets not forget about all the obstacles and glorious pains and aches of the nine months….and then finally the labor which is truly a dangerous path for mother and child….

All these in mind still I believe that we are really blessed…and I also think that my expectant friend’s remarks was also a valid issue for lots of women….they are especially the issues of the first time mothers….

But unusual for my personality – almost always, I come back with a response very quickly!!!! - I went little dumb at that moment. What could one respond? “Well honey, it is little too late now for these thoughts?!!!!” “Didn’t you know these things are not returnable even with your receipt?!!!”

I am a type of person that think EVERY THOUGHT and ALL THE ANXIETIES AND FEARS are valid. There are reasons for them in our psyche….some are obvious to see and some are buried very deep. They have roots in something and as long as those roots do exist, the thought, anxiety and fear are just a second layer of the issues.

So I am not going to say that these thoughts are not valid. But for a moment I thought of my friend, the one that is going through so much, and very soon will travel literally to a place that can be considered “the end of the world” (!), to be able to get her child….and then I thought “she would have given her right arm for a chance to become pregnant”….

Life can be a cruel joke sometimes…only nobody is laughing!

What a wonderful day...

2008-05-25T21:09:00.006-04:00

I am tried. In fact I am EXHAUSTED.

It is that kind of tiredness that you can feel it in your bones and even somewhere deeper than that....and if you tell me "OK buddy, go to bed and sleep", I will shrug. Not because I am not sleepy, in fact I am really really sleepy. But to be sleepy and to fall asleep are two separate things…at least in my repertory of life. I just can not sleep….at all.

This is me, when I am so “beyond the word” tired and / or when I am excited and / or when I am extremely anxious and nervous I can not sleep....So what can I say? I am all of them at the same time...what a kettle of emotions?!

I am "let's invent another word" tired, as well as, “unbelievably, out of this world” excited, as well as, can not stop my usual and unusal anxieties.....:):(:):(:)

I had a wonderful day. It was nothing out of the ordinary and it was beyond ordinary. How can I explain a non explainable?

My little guy, the king of my heart and our house, turned 20 months old… AND...I got magical, dreamy and wonderful news. As the result the very ordinary day turned out to be non ordinary one.

So I am here only to drop a note to the big guy up there...or if you are big gal I don't mind really:):)

Thank you God for all your blessings, the ordinary and extra ordinary ones!

Thank you God for taking care of us, little whinny humans. I know you have so many other important things that you have to deal with...and still you made sure that little prayers here and there get answer, a perfect ones I am sure.

Despite all my anxieties, despite all my worries and thoughts (good and bad), despite all my neurosis and nervousness... I am going to enjoy this day (the remaining of it) and of course the memory of it...just the way it was: a very ordinary extra ordinary day!

Loving the flaws almost as much as the fortes...

2008-05-22T21:31:00.015-04:00

The better half said: “He said the word elbow tonight while I was changing him”

I said: “Oh, he is saying that word for couple of months now”

The better half said: “Oh, I am teaching him that word for couple of weeks now”

I said: “Didn’t you hear me? He is saying that word as well as, forearm and arm for couple of months now. I thought him that. It is the game that we play when I am changing him.”

The better half said: “Yes, but I thought him that. I started that game”

And so it begins (or shall I say it continues) the endless “hidden” competition.

Man vs. Woman
Padre vs. Madre
Him vs. Me

I look at my better half and my heart bursts with love...I love his flaws almost as much as his fortes....

I deeply belive that if you love only the good things about a person you are destined for disappointment. You have to admire some of the weirdness and not-so-lovable traits as well, otherwise you spend your life wishing the person was someone they aren't, and may never be....and that my dear blog is so not fair to that person....

So I hope he loves my flaws alomst as much as my fortes....after all I can say with all my heart and soul that he indeed is my BETTER HALF!

I look at him and I know he is missing a lot. Mostly because I am the one that is blessed to spend all day and sometimes even all nights with our little boss. But still my gracious nature and loving heart does not manifest itself into words. I do not want to loose my ground. I want to make sure that he and all the world with him knows that MY boy is MINE, first and foremost….

How silly of me? I know so well, he is his own little man and I am just there for the ride with him…

But still let everyone knows that I am the person that knew him before anyone else....that he was IN ME for 9 months….HE WAS ONE WITH ME and NO ONE ELSE!!!!

Is it out of fear? It must be.

I went to a little panic mood when we were flying back home on the weekend.

There was a cute baby boy, 9 months old, sitting behind us and my big19 months old son, was playing a peek a boo game with him: “ Hi baby, Bye baby”.

Then I noticed that the baby was not talking yet and I remembered my little boss was very chatty since very early and already had a vocabulary of a good few words by 9 months old.

But then I tried to remember more detailed memory of that month and I noticed the memories are not sharp anymore. I went to a panic mood in my heart. I do not want to forget. I do not want to EVER forget a single moment of my time with him.

I remember so well many hours before motherhood when I would feel the time is just standing still. There was some joys, some sign of responsibilities and some accumulation of subjects that had a hold on me, but nothing had the effect of quickening the passage of time. There was so many days that was just dragging along from one to the next.

Time is just flying by much too fast now. Weeks are flowing like minutes. He will be 20 months old very soon, and if I'm not careful to pay attention, I miss so many details.

More than ever I had this feeling of time is passing by and speeding up while I was pregnant. Nine months did not seem long enough for some intimate oneness between me and him.

I spent a lifetime planning who I was and who I wanted to be, only to have a 3 Kg and 490 gram baby boy show me who I really am and who I really want to be.

I did not want to loose my identity after I married and keeping my own family name always was a good way to emphasize on that. I passionatly corrected everyone that called me by my husband's last name.

My better half was always supportive of this….so much that he asked me to choose the last name for our baby. When he told me of his decision I had tears in my eyes. The last name could have been mine. I decided as a gift to him, the family name be his. No hyphen, no two names, just my better half’s name. I don't regret my decision, not for a single minute.

But still and forever I take so much pleasure to remember that during his first days on this Earth the name on his wristband was mine. For those two and a half days in the hospital at least everything about him was mine….

My friends tease me endlessly that I will be the worst mother in law. I do not protest. I might learn to love the daughter in law, I might learn to be her friend…but I never forget that "A daughter is a daughter the rest of her life, a son is a son until he takes a wife."

That is so sad…and it is so true... No matter how much we deny it. My mother is the one that denies and protest my harsh view on the subject. She is the one that would have been the best mother of a groom…she just became the best mother of the bride. I look at her relationship with my husband and see the deep closeness and love at both sides and in my heart and soul I know it is because both of them share so much in their personality. They are so similar from so many aspects.

We humans are strange creatures. We get hung up on things because they are tangible. This is why we hold on to a memory so dearly. That is why we are keeper of the memories. We hold some stuff that has such a sentimental value for us and we expect to pass it to our children.

Maybe it is my own harsh perspective of gender, but I “assume” girls become the keepers of their family's sentiment while the future wives of boys become the unwanting collectors of "junks" that has no meaning for them….

Well….I am nothing if I am not honest, both in my real life and with my blog

I know so well that it is stunningly greedy of me, yet I felt he was a part of ME; someone I knew better than anyone even if it was only for a moment in a lifetime...even if it was only for 9 very very short months….

When we left the hospital, I left the person I always thought I had been…I became a mother, HIS MOTHER… and he left with a new name on his birth certificate.

"Journalism": fact or fiction?

2008-05-21T13:46:00.024-04:00

Someone said: “The news these days are what the news companies want it to be. What they want it to be and how they want it to be”…we live in a sad time, indeed a sad time.

Yesterday evening, after listening to evening news, I started to fume…and unfortunately the fuming continued well through today…

They had a “special report” regarding vaccination. They were “shocked” by the new awareness that in the country like Canada, 1 out of 3 kids is not vaccinated…and then they continue to talk about the “FACT” (whatever that word means obviously) that how dangerous it is for those kids that do not get vaccines as well as the other kids that do get they regular shots.

The report continued to show an elementary public school in one of the provinces that had to “suspend” more than 30 students and few teachers for 20 days (that is the duration that it will show whether they got the measles or not) because following a case of a measles they found out all these people did not have the vaccination or the booster shots against measles….Then the report got even better!!!!.

The reporter started to talk to the parents of the kids that had their “proper vaccine” and they were so proud of their “law abiding” personality – never mind that vaccination is not mandatory in Canada, so “choosing” to vaccine your child has nothing to do with the law!- and were unbelievably angry and abusive toward the “Irresponsible” parents that did not follow the same line of thinking – [like sheep I guess!!!]- and (listen to this part) how unbelievably dangerous these people are because they are putting other kids that had their vaccine in danger!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So while I am biting my lips and telling myself that like any good journalism, now this professional reporter will go and talk to the other “camp”, suddenly the reporter talked to few members of the board of schools and they were “demanding” that schools should start NOT accepting the children without proper vaccination….

Finally the reporter went to the representative of health Canada and that lady in a very submissive voice replied that “while we “strongly” encourage the parents to vaccinate their children, still it is not forced by law in Canada and it is totally the parents’ choice to do that. Therefore the only thing that is required from the parents according to the law is to sign a waver that admit that they take responsibility and this is their belief and also they agree that if there is an outbreak of any disease they are Ok with keeping their kids at home and do not send them to school”…..- just a side note: if there will be an outbreak, won’t you rather keep your child at home regardless of how many vaccine they had or not had?-

Still nothing from the other “camp”…I still optimistically told myself: “Wait it will come!”....then the anchor started questioning the reporter that: OH it is so dangerous for the other kids isn’t it?” (Keep in mind at no time they mention why it should be dangerous for the kids that already had their “proper vaccine”!)…and then the anchor mentioned casually that there are some fear of the fact that vaccines are causing harm to the kids and reporter replied: yes but it is not proven completely! (and no one replied “yes but it not disproved either!)

On to the next topic…..yayyayya

I screamed…I literally screamed. Don’t get me wrong, I am not opposing a report about vaccination. What I am oppose to is the one sided report.

Obviously you can imagine that I do belong to the school of thought that does not believe in vaccines and vaccination. I do believe that there should be selective vaccination if and only if there is a need for it, based on the age, the percentage of exposure and other factors…. most of them are not necessarily for everyone, at all ages, especially living in the first world countries.

Let’s forget about the amount of Mercury (Thimerosal), Aluminum and Formaldehyde that comes with the vaccine into the body. We, adults, go to dentist to take out our Mercury filling but who really care about injecting our babies at that age with it! We protest over the pollution of the sea food with Mercury…but who cares really about the drugs. After all the big pharmaceutical companies are the one that subsidizing EVERYTHING in the government!

Let’s totally forget about the suggestion of existing of a relation between Aluminum and Alzheimer and dementia.

Let’s forget about all the strange GENES that we are pushing into our babies blood streams while we do not have ANY awareness to how it will affect them in the long run.

Let’s completely forget the scary rise in the number of cases like Multiple sclerosis, Parkinson, Cancer and Alzheimer in last half of the century.

Let’s totally ignore the “FACT” that there is absolutely NO LONG TERM STUDY on the affect of vaccines on HUMAN BEINGS.

Forgetting all that, how can we forget what happened in March 2008 while all the major news companies talked about it?

The result of Supreme Court in US in March 08, which was in favor of the parents with the child that developed autism after MMR (measles, mumps and rubella) – the same measles as the one in the “special report”!!!!- put a huge damper on pharmaceutical companies as well as Allopathic medicine.

After that huge victory, the doctors are divided into two groups: the one that think MMR should not be given at the young age (12-18 months) and the rest that think it is totally necessary to be given at that age.

It is widely accepted that MMR vaccine is very dangerous and in a specific group of children it can develop Autism. Still it is unknown that exactly what are the indicators in those kids that can be triggered by MMR. But the reality is that no parents will know- at the moment with this level of science- that whether her kid is susceptible or not.

So I guess the reporter missed this huge news- it was even part of the CNN and Larry King live in early to mid March 08.

Then we reach to a very logical argument toward the “complain” that “if you do not vaccinate your kid, it is dangerous for other kids that are vaccinated”….

Tell me something: if a parent vaccinates his/her kid that means they “believe” they make their kid “immunize” toward that specific disease for long time. It means if the kid gets in touch with that disease, he or she should not get it. Yes?

So in that case why is it dangerous for them if the other kids are not vaccinated? Their kid is immunized anyway, isn’t he?

The fear comes exactly from this point. In last 10-15 years there is huge number of measles cases reported (not from public news cast but within medical journals – the ones that general public will not read of course!- in England, US and in last few years in Montreal.

The peculiarity of the outbreak is that the cases appear to be among College students (please pay attention to the age group) and among the people that already had ALL the measles vaccine…..So it brought the huge tornado in the Allopathic community. They had to admit to the world that the vaccine (any vaccine) does not give immunity for the life and while so far they thought it will, now with measles they will reach to the conclusion that it will not.

The only thing that gives full time immunity is to get the disease and fight with it. After that the immune system is set for life. So the geniuses are now recommending that there should be yet ANOTHER booster shot let’s say around the age 16-18 years old!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The baby does not develope a fully active immune system until he/she is one year old. This is one of the reasons that all the advocates of breast feeding use to make the mother breast feed her baby as long as she can. So what happens when we put so many vaccine in those tiny bodies when they do not even have an immune system to develop any long term immunity or not?!

The argument against Vaccination is as powerful as the argument pro vaccination. I do not think one should be forced against the other. I am a full supporter of the freedom of choice. But the choice should come with education. Unfortunately most of the time you will not get that education in your doctor's office. The more open minded one of them now, after the Supreme Court ruling, advice and “highly recommend” that the vaccine should NOT be administrate all at the same time, at such a young age.

The education has to come from more “neutral” sources…and one will think a good “journalistic report” should be more neutral…should talk about pros and cons of the both sides of the argument.

If one looks closely in the number of the vaccine that they administrate in the first world countries, at such a young age, one will be in total shock.

I mean think about it:
The schedule is that the baby at ONE month old, get his first Hepatitis B vaccine. The fact is that Hep B is primarily a sexually transmitted disease. Other common sources of transmission include exposure to infected blood, injected-drug use and occupational and household contacts. The infant can contract Hep B from his mother, if the mother has the disease.

All the women get tested for this disease during pregnancy. So IF the mother has Hep B THEN AND ONLY THEN the child NEEDS the vaccine and can get it at birth as well as immune globulin (considering that he does not have an immune system to begin with).

Otherwise if there is no need for blood transmission, can someone tell me when the one month old baby will have sex????

But NOOOOOOOO we have to give this vaccine right after the baby is born or within his first month!!!!!!!!! Then we have to repeat it at 4th month, 12 month and 11-12 years.

You realize of course that all these repetition (which is called booster) are because the immunity is not permanent!!!!!

Then let’s not forget, at age 2, 4, 6, 18 months and 5 years the child has to get DPTaP: That is of course Diphtheria, Pertussis (whooping cough), Tetanus and Polio.

Do you realize all these vaccines are at the same time? All these dead or semi alive viruses or viruses' toxins will go into blood stream of a baby while there is no fully developed immune system....no wonder the doctors advice the parents to look for a series of ailments from fever to diarrhea and rash for a period of 7-10 days after this memorable event....they call it harmless short side effect!

I mean let’s be realistic here…the child can not even hold his head at the age of 2 months and we are giving him Tetanus shot. Tetanus is one of those vaccines that have the least complication but I fully believe that it should be given to the child when he starts to walk and even at that time it has to be given as a single vaccine and not in combination with so many others.

The diseases like Diphtheria and Polio do not exist in the first world countries since 1960’s. How come we are no longer administer small pox vaccine in the first world countries? Because there is no need for it. So what is the difference here?…and there is a huge controversy around Pertussis (Whooping cough) vaccine after the number of death occurred within 48 hours after the vaccination as the result of the “short term” side effects…

Every fall / winter the doctors scare people from Flu and everyone rushes for their flu shots. It was interesting that in January this year the outbreak of flu showed that the vaccine is ineffective because every year’s vaccine is for the Virus brand of the last season and the Virus (being smarter than human) mutates and becomes stronger toward the vaccine. This is how the “Super bug” is developed. The one that Media was alerting about it in last 4 months, the one that “NO antibiotic” has any affect on it. Why do you think that is? Can it be because of extreme unnecessarily use of antibiotics?

There was a time that when a child had a chicken pox, all the mothers took their children there so they will get it at the young age (which will be mild with rare complication) as oppose in their adulthood while the complications are sever and the disease is very difficult at those ages. But not now…at this day and age we hear a child has chickenpox and we ran to the doctor office for vaccination…and God help us in 50 years if we find out about the long term reaction of it.

Now they have vaccine against cervical cancer and how many of us asked the very reasonable question: What are the tests and researches regarding the long term safety of the vaccine? I mean even if I will not get the Cervical cancer, is it possible I will screw up something bigger in my life?

We need education. Only with education freedom of choice and freedom of thought come to life. Only with education, freedom will have a meaning. Otherwise, if there is only one set of “news”, how can people “choose”? What are they suppose to choose from?
To vaccine or to vaccine????!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Ass-u-me" not!

2008-05-19T22:41:00.007-04:00

The first thing they teach us in homeopathic college is to never ever ever "assume" anything about a patient...nothing is for assumption. Their perception and their story can be a world apart from our assumptions.

Well I remember how difficult it was for me to brake the habit of assumption in my students, it is so engraved in people's psyche, beyond belief...so I started to make a joke of the word when I was teaching my students there. I used to tell them: You assume and we all know what happens to those who "ass-u-me"... so “ass-u-me” not"!!!!

I think this is where I started adapting the sentence "I don't want to assume so correct me if I am wrong...." in my daily conversations. My friends always give me the look after that. But really don't you think this is where half of the problem of communication starts?

We just simply assume. We assume this is what the other person means...we assume they mean negative or positive while the reality can be so much different.

What is even more interesting for me is how the assumptions work in people's lives. I mean almost entirely everyone’s assumptions are mirror of their inner world. This is how they see the world, this is how they assume the world is and of course, this is how they react to the world they assume exists out there....

So truly what is the "real" world out there?

Every time that I get into these loops of thinking (and it is very frequent that I get into them!), I come to one conclusion: that the world out there does not exist and all there is, is an illusion or a delusion or a reflection or an assumption of our mind and psyche...and then what happens is that I feel very omnipotence AND nullipotence both AT THE SAME TIME.

It is Master Zhuang’s - Chinese philosopher- lesson after all: “I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man”.

Let's not assume either one of them!!!!

Was ich nicht weiss, macht mich nicht heis!

2008-05-18T22:33:00.015-04:00

Oh how much I love this German proverb...

The English equivalent for it is "Ignorance is bliss"!

But I think it does not do the justice to the German version....The word for word translation of the title is: "what I do not know, won't burn me"!

I have the curse -or maybe it is not a curse but a gift with a danger attach to it:) :)-...the one that makes me itch to "know" everything possible about the subject that is in my life at any given moment. I am one of those people that can become a walking encyclopedia about a subject, when that subject somehow sneaks into my life...You can easily see that from the pattern of the books that I start to read at any given time.

While this was such an amazing blessing when I was teaching in the college, it is an unbelievable curse when one needs to live a simple daily routine of life...especially for a person like me with many many many neurosis and anxieties!

A friend of mine is pregnant with her third child, somewhere around 6-7 weeks. 5-6 weeks ago she had the casual talk with me and told me that she might be pregnant - they just “decided” that they want to “start” trying...and I laughed with her and said "Oh…how I’ll envy you...I miss having a newborn and more than that I miss being pregnant".

Then a week and a half after that she told me that she had tooth extraction and had an X-ray for it as well as a course of many days antibiotic and many Advil....

I hold my breath for few seconds and then told her: "Didn't you tell them you might be pregnant?" and she casually replied "I did, but they did not react"....So weeks passed by and the result was that she is indeed pregnant. She asked her doctor what does she think and the reply was "hope everything is OK!"...and that is how my friend's state is...ALL is OK! Which hopefully and very well might be....but OH my GOD?! Can you imagine if the role were revered?

I would be out of my mind. First because I knew what might not be OK and second because I would search to know even more what might not be OK!!!!!!!

Last few weeks, after we for sure found out that she is pregnant - she is not sharing the news for the first 3 months with everyone and just close people and family - (as she puts it herself: "Lucky winner after first try"), I went to a loop...the loop is on me not on her though!

Why am I like this? Why am I being cursed with this itch of needing to know...and mostly keeping in mind the most negative of all.

I could have been the type that needs to know but keeps the positive in mind (the one and only my hubby belongs to this category. Although I secretly believe he also keeps the negative in his mind but pretends that he only believes in positive...which to this "accusation" he laughs loudly and tells me: "Again you think negative of a given scenario"!!!!)....

OH NOOOOOO! God Forbid! I am the one that only and only keep the negative outcome of any given scenario on the front line of my mind....and as if keeping it there is not enough(!!!), I repeat it over and over like a good old song!

Well what can be said?
Now that I can not be optimistic, I wish I will become ignorant....as what I do not know, does not burn me and my daily routine of life!

My laptop, my pillow!

2008-05-14T14:31:00.017-04:00

Are you one of those people that get use to their own pillow? One of those that just can not get a good sleep when she/he is away and has to sleep on another "alien" pillow!

I have a friend that even takes her own pillow every time that she goes to a trip. I am one of those people that is attached to her pillow but I do not take it away with me- mostly because my laziness overcomes my desire for comfort!

I mean I like my water pillow. I can even detect a major change in my mood, with the degree of the water that I like to have in my pillow. Once in a while I want more water and once in a while I need to make it less.

My chiropractor also thinks this is a good pillow for me, considering my life long weakness in my poor neck area...

So while the case of attachment to ones pillow is very normal in our society, I came to realize I developed such an attachment as well to my own laptop...

For the last two weeks, we are away, across the country, visiting my parents while my better half has to go around for few business trips. I did not bring my laptop with me...let's face it when one is traveling with a toddler, there is absolutely NO space for anything else but many different toddler related objects...

3 sets of change of clothes - and last minute I shoved an extra T-shirt for my self because I remembered on the previous trip, Mr. Son peed on my hubby’s shirt and poor man had nothing to change to!

Well half an hour after the take off, we already had to use one of the set of clothes for little man, because he decided that he wanted Tomato juice, not from his sippy cup but from mamma's cup...

Well the punch line of the story is this: he decided he does not want to listen to mamma and there is no need to sip slowly but he just wants to gallop it all down in one big sip....and then came my loud "OH my GOD NOOOO!!!!"

Well the rest can be easily imagined....I had a little ecstatic boy, laughing his head's off, with the whole body from top to bottom in RED!
There goes the first set of extra clothes and still 4 more hours to go...and by the end of the trip I had to use another extra shirt and so on!!!!

On top of that, I had to pack many dippers (because I am so neurotic that I think what if I need more!) and related dipper changes stuff (which are so many items on their own), different first aid homeopathic remedies, all the stuff to clean his stuffy nose (the souvenir from his cold), Bottles of milk, water, sippy cups, his homemade lunch with accessories, fruits, crackers, a DVD player with couple of DVDs (the better half's idea) and couple of his favorit books and toys...That last item was totally useless considering that he really wants to play with everything that is NOT a toy!

We bought the portable DVD player the night before the trip and the hubby was so excited that this will be the jack pot....well I guess it was the jackpot for Mr. man and not for Mr. son!

The little toddler decided he liked to play with the DVD player and push all the bottoms CONSTANTLY and that watching those boring stuff is just simply BORING!

My hubby had his laptop in his computer bag and a carry on because he had a connecting flight for “back to work”….
So as you can see there was absolutely NO ROOM for my poor little laptop…

I did not think much of it first. My parents have several computers and laptops, some are from pre dinosaurs era (considering that they NEVER throw anything away- OH GOD FORBID!) and couple of computers top of the line…I think the only thing more than computer in their home is books!

I thought, “Well, no need really for my computer”….

My poor mom and dad tired so hard to make me very comfortable. They offered their laptops and desk tops, whether for me to take it anywhere in the house or be in their office and use it for as long as I want to...
The first couple of days I checked my emails, facebook, blogs…and then I start avoiding computers all together. Every other day I checked my emails and no entry in my blog or rarely checked my facebook!

WOW I realized I am just too used to my own lap top…is it possible? Really is it normal or is it one of recent additions to my never endings illogical habits?

So I decided to take a sabbatical from cyberspace…well it wasn’t so bad. It was actually nice to be able to do that. It made me realize how addicted I become to internet and what a sense of freedom it is to be able to take some time off…. In last couple of days I felt I had enough of this sabbatical and “come on big girl, don’t be just totally crazy!”…and here I am...

So dear blog, sorry for deserting you….I just miss my own “pillow”!

I thanked him today…

2008-05-11T18:42:00.007-04:00

I am sure you heard the famous question: "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Ever asked your kids what they want to be when they grow up?

I hated that question when I was a child. Thank God my parents were sensible enough to never ask me that.

But I still remember when a teacher in 2nd grade asked me that question for the first time in my life. I remember I answered: I don’t know….and then she said: You must know what you wish to be….and I thought hard for probably good 10 seconds and then said: How can I know? Do you know what you want to be when you grow up? And that was when the whole class burst in laughter.
Interestingly despite my extremely sensitive nature, I did not feel embarrassed….just surprised at my teacher's reaction. Because she did not laugh. She just looked at me and said: don’t you know I am already grown up?…….Truly in my eyes that silly question could have come only from a silly kid!

How can anyone know what they want to be tomorrow morning… let alone years down the road? We might know what we will do and what job we will fulfill tomorrow because we have to, but we might change our desires as well even if we HAVE to do what we are doing…at least for the time being…

Don’t get me wrong I understand the lesson behind the question: to create a desire, to give wings to imagination….

But really is that what adults do when they ask that question. Seriously if the child answers: I want to be a garbage man, what are we going to do…. ???
At least from where I came from all the answers were trimmed to be a doctor or an engineer….

Today I remembered something that happened during one of my case taking few years ago. The patient was a little 5 years old girl and the mother told her to tell me what she wants to be when she grows up? The little girl told me: “I want to be a mom and a wife” ... the mother replied immediately with no hesitation: “Yes, but you can be so much more. Didn’t you tell me the other day you want to be a police woman?”

I know many people would give that answer: “Yes, but you can be so much more.”….myself included was one of those people. I used to think that a girl can be a wife, she can be a mommy, too, but she can also be a writer or an artist or a lawyer or a banker or a politician or a nurse or a doctor as well if that's what she wants…

Today though, I think “why?”
Why should be such a mind set in our society?

Is this strange standard the result of the feminist movement because of the repression of females in all societies? Maybe…but if that is the case, shouldn’t we; the women, start breaking any new rules that is being imposed on us, this time by our fears??

If a girl tells us she wants to be a writer or a lawyer, do we reply back: "yes you can be those but also you can be a mother"?
Why there is such a double standard?

Motherhood is not a job…Period, no but or and…..Motherhood is a state of being and if a woman chooses to be that, she can dedicate her entire day and night to fulfill that state of being and if she chooses or needs to, she can do other things aside that…that is her choice…or the reality of life that she has to do other things to be able to make a life for herself and her family….

All I'm thinking is being a mommy is huge. It's perhaps the biggest thing a woman ever be, and to many, many, many people -- perhaps even herself one day -- it won't be enough.

The reality is that anything that we love to do, should never be “not enough”….

I am a mother, first and last and all in between.

Anyone that knows me, know that I love, love, love homeopathy and I am very good at it. I have been told many times by many different people that I have a gift in me for homeopathy…but since my son was born, I gladly cut my hours of practice significantly and lately I am thinking seriously of closing my practice altogether…

Maybe one day I choose to walk in another path, one equally less walked in like homeopathy.

Maybe all these thoughts are because of my personality: when I am so “in love” and “passionate” about something, I put myself in it full body and soul.

I don’t know (and really I don’t care) what is the reason for these thoughts. The reality is that I “just” want to be a mom…that is all I want, that is all I wish for, being “just” “mom” is more than fulfilling for this life time and possibly many more to come!

Today is mother’s day. Not that really anyone can forget it thanks to all the commercials and sales pitch…

It is my second mother’s day – third actually counting the one that my baby was in me (the best one of all)…

I can not say I do not love the day. I love it but truly not because of the celebration or the gift. Let’s face it, regardless of what day of the year it is, the duties do not get less for the duration of 24 hours. So it is not really a holiday. At least not when you have a baby or a toddler….

I like the day because it makes me celebrate what I love the most to be in this world: “A mother”.

When a baby is born, so does a mother. That can be a cherished blessing or not a cherished one. Either way I believe it is a blessing, both for the baby and the mother.

This morning when I woke up with my favorite alarm clock, my son’s voice calling “Mamma”, I went to him and went through all the routine of hug and kisses, word games and name calling – he likes to repeat his encyclopedia of knowledge first thing in the morning, as if reminding me or himself or both, how much he knows already.

And let’s face it for a toddler there is nothing worse than braking his routine. So after all the routine… I sat him on my lap and thanked him. I thanked him for becoming my boy and made me a mother.

I really do think today when a child celebrates his/her mother, a mother should also celebrate the reason that she is a mother…and that of course is the child. Because let’s face it we are who we are because of them…..

So thank you my boy. I deeply thank your dear sweet soul for choosing me to be your mother. I love the role more than life itself…it makes my small life bigger than all the galaxies.

I love you and all you bring me….yesterday, today and forever.

The big black monster in the middle of the dark room!

2008-05-01T01:17:00.006-04:00

We never talk about our fears…I mean it is not that we don’t have any…let’s face it, all of us whether we want to admit it or not, have a list of fears (sometimes longer than we want to admit even to ourselves)…

Why do you think that is? I know ignorance is a bliss but come on! We really are not ignoring anything! Who are we kidding here?!

We are just pretending the act of “blissful ignorance” and in the back of our mind we are thinking and re thinking our fears over and over again like a good old song that we play backward and forward for hours and hours.

It is a disease, an unhealthy choice, a habit, an act…whatever label you want to name it with. It is one of the deepest suppression in the psyche and the start of so many pathologies….

I can always see the start of this disease in the children when I am treating them. Children are normally very open about their fears (or at least in a healthy circumstances they should be): about that black monster that is hiding under their bed - the same one that has to be vanished every night before going to bed, about the dark room that is full of monsters, about the spiders and snakes, about this and that and the other!

When a child refuses to talk about his fears and nightmares, as a homeopath I know I am witnessing the birth of a “dis-ease”.

What happens as a result is the sensation of extreme heaviness in our soul which never goes away and every time that anything remotely brings that fear to our mind, we want to go and hide under our heavy blanket and just call for mommy or daddy and scream that the black monster is back… come and vanish it….hurry please!!!

And then we realize there is no mommy and daddy to vanish this one…unfortunately we grew up and this dreadful duty is now on our to do list…but we are paralyzed with fear and do not have any shield against it…Ahhhh except that super power of course: IGNORING!

The heaviness is unbearable, it is killing us, eating us cell by cell from inside…and we are still ignoring!

I guess old habits die hard...especially when they started early at childhood, at those innocent ages that you were suppose to cry out loud and knew that in a second the hero will come….at those innocent ages that you were not suppose to know the meaning of “you are on your own”…

Ignorance is a bliss…if only we could really ignore….If only….

My "philosophical debate" haircut!

2008-04-27T21:17:00.002-04:00

I had a haircut yesterday…FINALLY!

The haircut is exactly my usual hairdo…but I think after the “bushes” that was growing on top of my skull, everyone that saw me today, thought I have a “new” hairdo…

I received a good number of compliments and couple of them were from my friends that see me regularly!!!

They looked at me with “wow!” and “hey you cut your hair short”…which I answered: “OH! I finally trimmed it. But it is the usual length after all my haircuts”….and they said: “Really!! Isn’t your hair normally longer?”…and at this point I gave up the debate.

Because the irony is that from one perspective they are correct….cnsidering that it took such a long time for me to find a time, schedule and actually keep the schedule for the haircut…

So while in my mind as well as every time that I looked at the mirror, the usual length of my hair “was” and “is” shorter, in reality and in the eyes of others, it “was” and “is” longer…after all who am I kidding, the duration that it was longer was much more!!!

Isn’t that funny? Our perception of the world I mean…

I am always mesmerized by the concept of the perception especially every time after I have consultations with all the members of a family in one day. It happens that they all talk about one single event and when I listen I can swear that it is many different events.

Because each one has totally different perception of that event….Sometimes I even find myself in the middle of the sentence asking them: “are you sure all of you were at the same place, at the same time?”

And then it is the perception that we have of ourselves and the perception of others from us….

Let me use the same haircut story…
I have a curly hair and my son also has curly hair just like me - although in my opinion his curls are much more beautiful than mine but it is obvious where did he get this gene, considering that my husband and his family have straight hair-

He had the haircut last weekend with the same hairdresser. After his haircut (which was a major tantrum story!) he looked so handsome, more mature looking and truly beautiful…granted that it was only haricut and no blow dry and obviously no “product” (Thank GOD!)

After my haircut and blow dry, I looked in the mirror and saw who I always see after an hour in a hair salon…
Well I looked like a poodle, a very well trimmed one though….

When I voice that to my hairdresser (he is my hairdresser for 8 years so he knows my perception very well!) or my husband or any of my friends, they are shocked. They think I am really crazy….

I very well might be; no argument there. But after the blow dry and the rest of the hoopla, my perception in that mirror is still a very well trimmed poodle…

This is why every time after a hair salon visit, as soon as I come home, I wash my hair and make it my “ordinary” curly hair….my husband can never understand why I do it. Because in his perception “it looked SO beautiful”….

As you can see, we can “hear” each others’ perception, but we can NEVER “feel” each others’ perception….

So the big question is: while we can not “feel” each others’ perception, do you think we can “understand” each others’ perception…and to take it one step forward: Can we understand each other at all?

My shocking discovery

2008-04-26T06:01:00.022-04:00

It is 5:00 in the morning. I can not say I did sleep at all last night and in about an hour from now, I have to "wake up" and start my daily activity. So while all night I tossed and turned in my bed and thought about what was bothering me, I finally realized I am writing in my blog all along….so why try another hour of the torture of tossing and turning?!

Something happened yesterday that inflicted an enormous emotional pain to my heart. Well I can not say the subject happened yesterday as more accurate term is that the last drop fell down in the bucket that was getting filled in past month, or past few months or maybe all my life…who really knows about the accurate measurement of time for creation of a sour spot in the soul?! Who really cares?!

The bottom line is that something happened that made the whole issue unbearable enough for me to go to my “black and blue” cycle…. And as always, out of that pain another one was born... a shocking discovery….like so many other times the focus shifted totally after that...it shifted to this new pain and discovery…

I think this is actually an attempt of the heart: to shift the focus to another pain in order to survive, to a pain that is maybe more bearable…after all we all need to survive….

So dear blog, I found myself talking to you all night long about this discovery…and here it is…

The original pain came yesterday and I longed so much to pick up the phone and talk to someone...somebody that I feel close enough to not feel judged, embarrassed, being jinxed by (and this last one is the newest discovery in my convoluted repertoire of personality!!!!) or any other negative feeling....someone that I can trust and do not think all the time that one day she will use all "this" - whatever this may be- against me....someone that I can be free enough to not censor myself for any reason what so ever...

Alas....I do not have that person in my life. The discovery was this reality...that despite my delusional belief that I have at least 2-3 very close friends, when push comes to shove I do not have ANY friends…when it is the judgment day like yesterday, I do not feel comfortable enough or safe enough to pick up the phone and cry on any of those shoulders without any hesitation….That discovery was beyond shocking….

I cried on my husband shoulders. I know I have to be thankful enormously for the blessing of having a husband that I can talk to…and belive me, I am thankful beyond belief.

What I am talking here is not any attempt to undermine that blessing. But the reality is that my husband is a man and like any other man there is a genetic lack in emotional talk even though he would be categorized as an emotional man.

He is a very good listener, he listens and then nods and then tries to hug or kiss or crease but all the time there is that confusion look in his eyes that says: “I am here out of my league, what am I suppose to say? I hope she does not ask me to say anything because I am not sure what word should I use?”

I can always see this inability of using words to talk about emotional issues just there in the back of his eyes. In best of times I joke about it and we laugh together at the defective Y chromosome…in the worst of times, I see that…logically I know it is not his fault but there is NOTHING logical about the pain that I have so why should I be consoled by logic?...I end up being more alone, sad or angry or all of the above…and he ends up more fearful of what should be the proper response to the pain that I have and he does not really understand and can not trace its origin back to anything…

It is interesting but truly that is man’s defective nature…I am starting to believe it is the case for all of them and that makes me sad because I so much wish for my son to be able to listen like a woman…and that means to listen with heart and response with heart through words….maybe that is only a wishful thinking after all…

My father can not understand the logic behind the need of a talk about an emotional wound…he will patiently and kindly listens to you and all the “facts” and then brushes the subject to the side with an attempt of changing the subject all together…and if you be a stubborn daughter like me and bring the subject back again, he will tell you that there is no point in poking a wound and talking about it over and over...and this way the wound will not heal…and one should leave it to be and why “regurgitate a subject of pain over and over”….so with a father in one extreme of logic and the husband at the other extreme of emotions FOR MEN, I came to the conclusion that to have someone to listen and console me during any emotional pain I needs a woman….

My mother can listen but after all she is a mother. She does what a mother does the best, she rushes in the scene with her heart wide open and tries to take the pain away…totally and completely. Tries to not even leave a trace behind…and in an attempt to do that she will belittle the emotional pain that exist…I used to be so angry by this action and take it so personal. But then I became a mother and truly felt and understood why she does what she does. Today I love her for that ten million times more…

A mother needs so much to make sure that her baby is pain free, body and soul. In order to breath, we need that to be true -- even if we know from our own experience in life, that the concept of pain free does not exist….but for us to survive we NEED to see the apple of our eyes be happy and free of any pain, especially free from the wounds of the heart and soul….So what my mother does, while comes from the purest source of love and emotions, does not console me in the desperate times of need...a need for someone to listen and talk to me…

So I need, I want, I long for a woman, a girlfriend, some one that I feel totally and absolutely free with to be able to open up my heart and not feel embarrassed, judged, or as I said above be jinxed later (don’t ask how I came to this latest discovery of my wired feeling!!!)…or not be afraid of any consequence of my decision to talk....

Someone that does not analyze my pain with tough logic....someone that I know will keep the talk just to herself and not even repeat that to her own ears...someone that I can talk to and just KNOW she will listen with her heart and respond just the right response….a response that does not belittle the pain, does not ignore the pain, does not refuse its existence but sheds a light and a comfort on the issue that caused the pain….someone that will talk to me about the pain until the dawn of eternity - if I need to...and does not think that we talked enough or there is no need to talk more about this pain or why are we repeating it over and over (because sometimes what one needs is to just repeat the same subject hundred times, thousand times, only to throw the bitter poison of the hurt out of the heart….)

In my adult life I started wishing for a sister. In my imagination, a sister would have filled that role for me, that a sister would have listened and consoled and would have been there no matter what…that I could tell a sister anything and everything….I think this delusional idea comes from the fact that I do not have a sister (or a brother for that matter)…

I say delusional because when I look around no one - and I really mean NO ONE THAT I KNOW - has this type of closeness with her sister. My mother which by default is the example that I looked at while I was growing up, claims that she is at least very close to one of her sisters… and I emphasize on the word, “claims”. Because the reality is that when push comes to shove, being an ultra reserved personality – just like me or maybe little less than me!- she does not confide her pain even to that sister….she has her reasons of course. They might be from the range of "why bother her" and "why put her in pain" to the range of "this is private"...

I think - or I like to think- that she came to that point of comfort more or less with me…it happened as I matured and became a woman. I am not sure how deep she will share her pain but I still think I, as her daughter, took that role in some degree…and I am so happy and honored that she gave me that role in any degree…but what am I going to do if I never have a daughter? or what am I going to do if I will only have one child and he will be like the rest of the men?

What if that is it for me…loneliness beyond belief?

Couple of my friends claim they found the above described person in me. I am not sure they did, I really don't think so. But I am happy they feel they did. I am really not sure such a person does exist, but never the less I am longing for her.

I am shocked that I do not feel any degree of comfort in that level to pick up the phone and talk to somebody….That is truly and utterly a pain…a shocking discovery that cuts like a knife to the core of my bones….

Well what else can I say? It is 6 am now and my life calls for me...becuase whether I like it or not, whether I have energy for it or not, whether I have heart for it or not, the show MUST go on!

Hello Mr. Boss...

2008-04-25T14:02:00.002-04:00

OK! It is official…the bug is in the house…

While my little boy still has a running hose coming down his little nose, my husband started his journey in the land of “having cold” two days ago and now battling with cough (and let me tell you that he is one of the WORST type of people with getting cold, I mean he will go DOWN)…

So poor sleep deprived mamma (that has to take care of two boys!) started to have extreme fatigue and muscle aches with a lingering sore throat…I already gave an ultimatum to this bug that I neither have time nor the energy to get into any short or long term relationship with him / her!

So I am pushing sore throat back and trying to imagine that all the muscle aches and fatigue is because of my normal condition of being sleep deprived…..

But come to think of it, if my husband wishes, he can take sick day from his work (never mind that for a workaholic person like him this will be unheard off!!!)…

HELLO! May I remind the universe that I am NOT workaholic?

I rather like to be categorized in a lazy group if that means I can get some time off…I don’t mind take few sick days!!

But can someone kindly tell me where can I put the application for my request of “time off”, let’s say for 2 hours?!

Although my boss, Mr. Toddler, is not that keen these days in allowing mamma to even go to the washroom for very much needed bladder work!

It is very obvious now that the bug had one major affect on him: he wants mamma 24 hours in his visual field!!!!!

Well I guess that sick day application has to be put back to the pile of unopened letters that are accumulating on my desk!

Back to work…obviously I had enough blog brake!

Thankful for the ordinary moments of life…

2008-04-24T14:50:00.008-04:00

Have you ever felt that what we really do in life is to distinguish between the real from imagined?

I lead a small life, very valuable and extremely meaningful, but small. Today while I was going through same old routine of my day, I thought of the time that I planned my life very carefully to be anything but daily routine and “ordinary”. I wanted it to be a grand adventure, to go around the world week after week, to not be anywhere more than a month…to be someone very special, someone very well known in the field that I'll choose....

Looking back now, I have to say I am so thankful for the life that I have. Somewhere down the road I realized the value and depth of the routine of a daily life. I think I changed my plan gradually not because I was not brave enough for some kind of an adventurous life (although I know so well that I am NOT a brave kind of a gal!)

The reality is that “real” life happens when we are trying so hard to plan “the imaginary" life….what ends up to be is that we miss the “real” life and cry over the “imaginary” one.... and then before we know it we are on the final moment, regretting that why we did not live…DAUGH!

The reality for me is that I had the blessing of learning a very valuable lesson: that there is a value and deep meaning in a daily routine of life….that there is a happiness in the moments that we have whether they are same as the day before or different. But that happiness can come to us if and only if we want to accept it…

I came to appreciate what we commonly call “ordinary life”…there is such a beauty and grandness in the ordinary moments of life…I came to realize there is nothing “ordinary” about an “ordinary” life….

When I think about the fact that how close I came to miss all of this, I get shiver down my back…I believe I made my “ordinary life” an “extra ordinary” FOR ME and THAT is all that matters…

Today I have the unbelievable pleasure of being no one “special”, to be a common person, leading a common life…Except in one aspect: I love with all my heart and soul and I help someone becomes whoever he is going to turn out to be….if this will be the only adventure in this life time for me, then I thank divine with all my heart and soul because that is more than enough for sure….God knows it is enough lesson hidden there worth more than one life time!

Happy Earth Day!

2008-04-22T21:17:00.012-04:00

Well, I can not say – with clear conscious- that I am a “nature” person. I mean, the closest that I can get to a camping area will be if and only if there is a “Marriott” near by….I know it sounds terrible! But come on, give me some points for my brutal honesty here... it is really not in my “nature”…Not that I don’t wish it would have been different.

But I somehow managed to be in touch with one aspect of nature in my daily life… and that is really MY "nature", full of tug of wars - as my dad would comment precisely):)

I live in a suburb of a major metropolitan city. From my house to down town is little bit more than an hour if you drive in HWY’s and if there is no traffic….two big “IF”….

The neighborhood is surrounded by horse ranches and I think that was what sold the area to me (being a big fan of horses). I mean there are acres and acres of ranches just for horses – belong to a very well known family.

The ranches are sometimes separated by fields and sometimes just separated by authentic looking fences…I remember when we moved here there were acres of corn fields around….It was really magnificent…

As much as I can, I do not choose to drive in HWY. I don’t like the sensation of driving in a HWY. It gives me anxiety and it makes me feel I am really living in a jungle and it is the law of “who eats who” and “who will survive”….

Most of the time I can drive different roots other than HWY and frankly speaking all the alternative roots are much more beautiful to drive through, in all four seasons. There are fields of greens, horse ranches, a little lake….all on my way to my clinic only if I wake up earlier and get out of the house earlier (my clinic is only half an hour away from where I live)…I think it is worth it.

Today I thought about all of this…
Mostly because in last year or so, good number of those corn fields are sold to a development companies and are being made to different subdivisions…row after row of match boxes…houses so close to each other that you can open the window and put your head in the other’s bedroom and say “How you doin there?!” (Joey in “Friends”)

The other day I was driving around the neighborhood and showing the horses to my son. He was really excited because now he can see them not in the snow but in their green fields, having their “lunch” and “playing” with each other….and “look, look, that one is running and laughing” and then he makes the sound of the horse….

Watching him being so excited by seeing horses, every time that we pass through the area just beside our house, made me think of “being more friendly with nature”…I mean I admit, it will take a major genetic engineering on mamma’s part but then again that is a small price to pay for watching him be amazed by the Big Mamma Nature!

The whole experience also made me sad, knowing that piece by piece the beautiful golden fields are being replaced by match boxes…the little houses that are really ugly…and still those little ugly houses will become so beautiful to the people that live in them happily…a paradox really, just like anything else in life…

We will still have our horses around, mostly because the privet owner is a wealthy family in love with horses….

Happy Earth Day to the big Mamma Earth…May I enjoy your natural side more and more!

little blocked nose...

2008-04-21T14:30:00.013-04:00

Last night, close to midnight - as I was preparing myself to go to bed - all hell broke loose….what’s new really?!

Through the baby monitor I heard a sound that was not suppose to be there. My alert look and jumpy body made my husband smile. He thought our little one is snoring…I knew it is not as “funny” as that.

As I was rushing to the room, my expert ear told me that he is not breathing fast enough for a fever but heavy enough for some serious nose obstruction….

Well sad to say the diagnosis was correct - I mean half sad and half relieved. I entered the room, hold my breath and dove in…the forehead had normal temperature- NO fever. I allowed myself to breath again.

Contrary to the population's perception fever is one of the best friends to the defense mechanism and suppression of it is not a help in order to fight whatever is going on in the body!

As a homeopath I know it very well, as a mother I dread its presence very much.
As a homeopath I look for a fever especially lower than 39C as a sign of active immune system, as a mother I am scared of any degree of fever like a plague!

He did not have a fever. But the nose was totally blocked and runny at the same time…I knew major coryza is on its way. Understandably he had difficulty breathing and that made him very restless in sleep. I picked him up and while he had his eyes half open / half close, I tired to whisper to his ears that mamma will clean your nose now, OK?

He was a champ. He allowed us to pour the saline spray and then clean his little nose with nasal aspirator…then I gave him some water and rocked him to sleep….

Needless to say my very well organized plan for the night, which was a good night sleep after a very busy and full day, was gone with the wind.

I migrated to his bedroom floor to save myself from frequent trips between ours and his bedroom.
The whole procedure was repeated 5-6 times during the night – and in between he was just plain restless in his sleep. Sometimes I had to use Q-tip to clean the little nose. He was really good and helpful about it. He is used to using Saline spray to clean his nose, since he was one month old. So that is a familiar friend. But no matter what is familiar and what is not, when one is going through an illness, everything is more bothering….as the evidence of this, since this morning he is refusing any attempt for anyone to get close to that runny nose….

So he woke up early in the morning. Yes the good old fever was there…moderate but still fever. I became an expert in the measuring the fever with kiss method…a light kiss on the forehead and I am very close to actual degree…As I checked his temperature with my motherly device as well as a thermometer, I had the panic of a mother upon arrival of THE fever….Now he had a full blown runny nose….and the rest is just what comes after….

He can not be satisfied with anything, he knows mamma is listening to his every breath and is milking the situation so well.

He makes miserable cries if he does not get what he wants when he wants it….and so cleverly tries to do whatever is normally a big NO / NO…he does not want to have a nap and his eyes are falling asleep…he does not want to eat "that" but wants something else., NO! CHANGED MY MIDN, NOT "THIS" EITHER!

How cleaver are these little ones?…already know so well how to take advantage of the situation…WOW!!

And I…well I am tired and need to just take a breath and some how numb my rushing mind….I think I am using this blog for this purpose!

My mind rushes through all that I know as a health care professional and comes up with nothing….I think of all the things that I know - and I wish I did not know, that how a simple cold can turn to something else....My heart beats fast, my solar plexus is heavy with anxiety and I am just trying to keep it all together…OH, ignorance is such a bliss...No wonder that the first thing they teach you in any medical school is that you can not be the physician / homeopath for your loved ones….

I mean I know it is a plain cold…but GOD he is just miserable and that is so painful to watch….

How come as a homeopath I treat many little kids with different ailments with so much calmness and gentle mind but as a mom I am a mess?
No need to answer that….Logically I know the reason, but there is nothing logical about “LIFE”….

The mother of a toddler

2008-04-19T20:53:00.012-04:00

These days being the mother of a toddler is equivalent of having a lesson in comprehension, composure and just total and complete self control.

I can pretty much rest assure that at any time and place, in a blink of an eye, the situation can be turned into a three-ringed circus.

The problem is that I can never predict when these moments will arrive and that unpredictability is a disaster for my personality…in most of the situations, for me not even be able to vaguely prepare myself for a move from my opponent is truly unbearable.

But believe it or not, I am learning to adapt….After all it is the Darwin's law and I DO NEED to survive here!

The reality is that we can always trace “the doom and gloom” back to ourselves- one way or another:
We kept him out too late, it passed his nap time, didn’t feed him on time, didn’t understand his words and therefore responded to a different thing (after all the poor mom and dad do not have a “Rosetta stone” for toddler talk and at the same time his repertoire of words growing by the hour), didn’t entertain him enough and forgot his very short patience range …. and my very own personal favorite: we got into his “personal space” – especially without his permission (which of course needs to be taken in advance)…

I am not joking about this last one.

Years ago in preparation for a lecture that I was suppose to give, I read about this whole toddler’s personal space hoopla somewhere – especially while they will go through “terrible two” (don’t let the name fool you, it can start any time after 12 months!)

I confess this shamefully: At the time I just rolled my eyes and moved to the next chapter. Now I know how delusional I was…IT DOES EXIST!

Apparently a healthy toddler develops the sense for his personal space sometime after his first year, something that believe it or not all of us have. The difference is that we, the adults, learned somewhere down the road that we HAVE to adapt, bend, forget, disrespect and let others disrespect our personal space.

While toddlers of course, DO NOT tolerate ANY disrespect to their very own personal space.

So this can range from the time that mamma has to change his diaper, or if the doctor examines him without any pep talk or warm up, or if the dad wants to trim his nails without any “let’s do this together” talk, or if the poor hairdresser wants to give him his haircut!

The problem arises when you actually try to be aware of this concept and do the pep talk and the whole nine yard of taking the “permission”….and then your little toddler looks at you with an iron will and just tells you plainly “NO”!

You have to hear that “NO” to know what I mean. It is forceful, it is hopeless…..and then you are back to square one yet again…

In case you forgot, the power of logic does not work here. So what comes up is either some kind of a trick or bribery –
which in my case it is totally useless as my little one is truly stubborn and very focused when he sets his mind on something that is his “will” (and believe it or not he showed us this side of his personality from the VERY FIRST NIGHT outside of my uterus)-

or the other option is that you will end up holding your breath and jump in the pool of scream… and the rest you can imagine….

No matter how many times you just whisper in his ears that “it will pass quickly”, “we are almost done my dear!”, “I know it must not seem fair to you” or “you will understand and agree with us one day”, “I feel your pain, this just has to be done my dear!” or even “I am sorry for your discomfort, sorry Mamma”…still the scream is loud and the cry is tearing your heart...tears come down, face gets red, the breaths become shallow and rapid…

Meltdowns are inevitable. I used to feel so much embarrassment. I don’t feel embarrassed anymore but I still feel a total failure as a mother when I have to deal with tantrums in public…those piercing looks from strangers, the ones that clearly have no idea what is the life of a mother with a toddler….or even those sympathetic look of the people that means “been there, done that” or “thank God I don’t have to go through that one again”…all of it is unbearable for me. I feel as if I missed reading a big chapter in Toddler’s handbook and it shows what a clueless mom I am.

Once a patient of mine told me that she reached to a point that feels carrying a screaming toddler through the maze of a Wallmart in search of an exist is strangely liberating. I truly wish for that liberation sensation for myself!

But I can see that in the last 6 months after his first birthday, I moved so much ahead in dealing with these unpredictable situations. I am much calmer and at ease, both inside and out (to the surprise of myself and the others), I am more in charge and above all at least I look as if I know the end will be soon (even if I am not really sure when will the end be!)….I “look” the part to the perfection!

I also learned that one can handle everything with some degree of grace, even if one can't solve the problem right away… believe me it is quite an empowering lesson to learn.

One thing is for sure, when all goes well at the end, a parent is part detective, part linguistic, more respectful human being and a big part superhero!

What day is it today?

2008-04-18T20:56:00.007-04:00

I woke up today with my son’s voice calling my name to pay attention to all the members of his vocabulary repertoire!

I looked at the clock and thought: “He woke up earlier than he should and that means the rest of the morning will be a tough one starting from 10:30 am….he will be tired and whinny….will not be satisfied with anything and poor thing even he won’t know what he wants”.

Still I was in a very foggy daze.

Lately my sleep pattern is worse than before and the responsibility…well the responsibility is on the bad dreams. I have all the crazy, scary, running away to no where land, having the worst argument of your life with your loved ones with no end, witness terrible horror- kind of dreams. No idea why…I mean the reason must be very well hidden deep in my psyche and I do not have any time or energy for going down that rabbit hole.

So I wake up many many times during the night and eventually in one of the times that my son calls to have water or just to see me and then go to sleep…I go to his room and end up falling asleep on his floor. Some how sleeping closer to him while I had such a terrible dream, feels more reassuring... You see how the role is reversed already.

Obviously the result of the night sleep is a failure because I wake up with a body more tired and a mind more numb than the pervious night….

So back to the story... the little nightingale's voice sang to his mamma that was sleeping in a fetal position on his bedroom floor. He wanted to play our usual word game…this is this and that is that and the rest of the hoopla with voice up and down…

I stood up, engaged in the game while in my mind I was in a dream of some sort. So In that dream phase I started the daily routine….and then I passed our bedroom window and saw the garbage and recycle bins (all the colors of blue, green and the rest) in a row in front of the neighbor’s house…"Oh my God, Tomorrow must be some sort of a holiday that we are unaware of and this is why today is the pick up day", I thought to myself….

I ran to the bathroom and called for my husband that was under the shower and was getting one step closer to go to his work land...I, in an excitement, telling him that it must be a mistake and I haven’t prepared every things and did not do my end yet… is tomorrow a holiday? – You see the job description is that I gather things and put them behind the door and he will carry them outside - …

My hubby looking at me with a stunning face from behind the shower curtain: “what do you mean? I am not following you”…and I reply in my hyperventilating / excited voice: “Well Friday must be some kind of a holiday that we don’t know about. Because everyone prepared their garbage today”….

He now replies in his wise, know it all voice: “Well since today IS the Friday, I think everyone did a good job!”…And now it is my term to have a shocking voice: “TODAY IS FRIDAY….WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IT IS THURSDAY?”

I was really serious. I thought- all through the week I have to add- that I am living the previous day. My poor body had a bad reaction to this unexpected discovery. There was this heaviness in the arms and legs, major numbness in my solar plexus and start of a nagging headache…and all these sensations got worse by time...

Because let’s face it with all this “time” business that we, the almighty human being invented, we entered ourselves in some kind of a rat race…and what happens when a sleep deprived being like me, get it all wrong?

I did everything this week with one day delay. Thank God I did not have a major appointment.

During the day – which as I predicted correctly, became one of the chaotic days for this week- I, in the back of my mind somewhere, was thinking about why did I made such a mistake?

As I told you in another entry, “time” and I have an ambivalent relationship and I really have to dedicate one entry totally to it. But even I do not get a day wrong and continue to do so for the entire week.

In some kind of a psycho analyze thing, was I trying to avoid the prospect of my very busy weekend?

Most of the weekends I am extremely busy especially that I see patients in my clinic during the weekends and that adds to the whole routine of life…and since those are the only time I see patients since I became a mother, I have even more than usual busy clinic days when I do book patients.

Or was I simply trying to hold on to the minutes and hours and do not allow them to pass quickly?

You see the other option is that I am loosing my mind…which in my professional mother, wife, daughter, homeopath and woman opinion that sounds closer to the reality!

I saw my reflection in the window…

2008-04-17T15:48:00.016-04:00

Yesterday I had one hour that I could run out alone and do some shopping therapy. I admit I ended up only being in children clothing stores…but still it was a therapy!!

If you are a woman and really honest with yourself, you will admit that it is THE BEST type of therapy…yes you will feel a pain when the credit card’s invoice knocks your door later, or maybe you are the guilt feeling type – like me- and feel the pain past midnight….but at least you had your absolute therapy during the bliss of shopping.

I don’t have my regular visits to this therapist since I am a mother and especially since I am a mother of a toddler. Let’s face it, shopping with a toddler is the equivalent of taking a giant elephant to a china store….after such a trip I will for sure need a real therapy!

So me, the mother, blissfully ran out the door the moment that him, the father, walked in from work…I was happy to see my two men getting ready to go for a stroll around the neighborhood in what was a grate weather…I drove and got to the mall (still blissful) and parked the car and toddled toward the door....when I saw someone’s reflection in the glass door...OH IT WAS ME!

For the love of God, What the heck was I wearing?

Don’t worry it was not a PJ or a track suit – which I heard is the Mother’s uniform!- but come on….

I had a brown pants and a pink sweater and had a brown shoes and a brown purse…I guess I can say color coordination comes to me naturally even when I am walking in a daze!

But the look of it…it was hanging from my body. My hair was in a bundle on top of my head – I need a haircut like yesterday, but I can not get a free time yet…so for now this boring hairdo is what my curly hair can handle…

I did not have any make up on– which is not that unusual for me as I rarely put on any make up. My mother used to constantly remind me that AT LEAST I could have a lipstick on my lips….Which one day I found the magic of lip gloss and that became part of my routine…but in this particular day I did not have ANYTHING!

In my saving grace, I did have a shower and I smelled really good (which even in the worst situation I smell very good because I am extra sensitive on the nose department!)

So let’s go to the point: I looked BORING! Make it capital and underline.

I even had that boring ugly walk… I was toddling with shoulders forward…you know what I mean? No gliding, no grace in the steps…blah blah blah….

I was shocked. I had so many nice things to wear in my closet. I can say honestly I do fit in almost all of them as I got back to my pre-pregnancy weight within four weeks after the delivery with no extra effort other than sleep deprivation and breast feeding!!!

I don’t have a body of a model but I have a one that can carry a suitable outfit nicely…

And then running after a toddler helps you to be in an OK shape, up and down a little in the weight department…except for my arms of course that now have muscles thanks to carrying my little one here and there…so little tights on my usual sleeves!

So how come I became like this? When did I stop caring?
Because if one looks at my closet, it is very obvious that I did care about what I ware… what accessories I put on and how to be out and about?

I always used to dress up comfortably but elegant. I mean my personality does not sacrifice comfort for beauty…but during the years I found a place on the fashion map that has both elements….Especially I love accessories and used them a lot…notice the verb there: “USED”

It is very obvious to any observer – they don’t even need to be a fashion consultant- that these days I put on clothes just to cross something off my “to do list”!

Majority of my friends are mothers to the preschooler and first grader – which means they will have more time for shower and the rest of the hoopla!

They look OK and sometimes nice. I have particularly a very good and close friend that looks AMAZING… ALWAYS. She is what the term Yummy Mummy was created for….and she looked like that even when she had a newborn and a preschooler at the same time!

I mean no matter what time of day or night you go to her house and no matter whether you called first or just knock her door; she opens the door as if she came out of a fashion magazine. For crying out loud, even her track suit is gorgeous!

And let's be clear here: she does almost everything by herself. She does not have a nanny and cook all the ingredient from the scratch - what can I say, I am friend with the superwoman:):)

We travel together once or twice a year for our work and I spend day and night with her for 7 -8 days…those times I am amazed of the simplicity and yet absolute elegancy of her wardrobe…. and more important than that of how artistic she is in her make up application and how quick she puts on her makeup even while she is driving! Truly less than 3 minutes!

God knows in order for me to put on any make up, I need a meditation of some sort just to be able to not mess it up!

How come it takes many many many minutes for me to put on make up…and the result is not as gorgeous as hers?

In last 18 months, every time I come back from those trips I pay little more attention to “how I carry myself” – which is her sentence…

I pay attention to what I wear and make sure I have an accessory for the occasion, a nice shoes and a nice purse…and I have to admit majority of my supply in my make up drawer comes from the inspirational shopping after those trips….

And then within a month I am back to where I was…a boring looking woman….then she gives me her usual pep talks that looking nice makes one feel happier (and I admit she is right)…and that it is easy and absolutely OK to include little “me time” in my daily schedule (which I whole heartedly agree if only I knew when and how to include it)…and even once in every season she tries to take me out for shopping trips (which are only fun to watch her because with every pick I shake my head that “when am I going to put this on?” or “it will not be comfortable enough to run after my little one”…and then she will shake her beautiful head that “grow up girl, a woman needs beauty not comfort…and you can have comfort in your PJ’s”….which let’s drop this note here, in my expert opinion in comfort, her PJ is much more beautiful than comfortable!...she laughs so loud and proud when I tell her this!)

I mean I don't want to be like her...my personality was not, is not and will not be like that...I just want to be little less boring, little more gracious.

So I am here, in my blog, crying out to the world….how can people do it? Because there are people that do this…dress nice, look nice, carry all the baby stuff nicely and elegantly, walk beautifully and have that "interested about the world" look when they walk...and still manage even a busier schedule than mine.

How can they do it?

Other than defective “friendship Gene” do I have also defective “looking elegant” gene?
OK, I gave up!

Love is not just a concept, it is tangible…

2008-04-16T14:02:00.009-04:00

…. My baby showed me that!

My son is 18 and half months old (and for the record he will always be my baby)... and he already thought me a lifetime of lessons…

I was going through some of my enteries in my diary for the past 18 months. I came across this one for Dec 2006 (he was just three months old):

"....We talk about the fact that motherhood will change one's perspective of life but living and feeling it is totally different concept.

Now I am proudly a mother... and NOW I can fully comprehend the aura of love, energy, constant giving, exhaustion of physical, emotional and financial resources, and above ALL pure ecstatic connection to an innocent soul and a procreative vision of the future that makes my days fundamentally different from before.

My son is teaching me many things every second of day and night and what a good teacher he is. He teaches me the art of loving unconditionally, helps me to learn the depth of forgiveness and force me to practice an unlimited patience for EVERY task in life.
....

Every time that I look at him, every time that I feed him or change his diaper, every time that I bath him or wash his bottles and fold his never ending laundry, I think to myself: I can imagine NO ONE BUT HIM. I believe that “my” God also could not imagine anyone but HIM for me.
......

So every time I look at him, I am praying at the most sacred alter of my life. I take a smell of his pure, innocent soul and think "maybe I did SOMETHING good that I am not aware of, because divine granted me this gift and I am thankful and humble for this blessing. May God make me worthy of him!"

We – the almighty adults- believe that we are shaping our little ones lives. That we are the creator of ALL of it....that we are suppose to teach them this and that and the other…

Don’t get me wrong. I am a full believer in all the responsibilities that come with parenthood – the ones that were in the “handbook” and the ones that were not :):)

But I for one think there are many more things that we are suppose to learn from these little angles – if our arrogance and pride let us of course!

I also believe that we are suppose to "accompany" them in their path of life. We are suppose to share our experience, our wisdom- how deep or superficial it might be-, to protect them with all our heart and soul and to guide them when it is possible for us.

The reality is that they are “children of the future” and we belong to the past.

These verses of “Prophet- by Khalil Gibran” can say it much better than I can:

“Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves the bow that stays."

So my dear boy...
I want to thank you for choosing me to be one of the many souls that will accompany you in your life.

I pray that your life be full of love and laughter...that you be healthy, wise and strong...that you be brave in heart.

I pray for you to realize that our time here is limited and some of it will be blissful and some of it will be tragic and mostly it will be somewhere in between...but that is OK my sweet!

There will be sadness to which we can not always prepare ourselves for...but still we need to be brave and accepting.

I wish you always accept yourself just the way you are...to love yourself deeply and wisely....to accept your fears and demons...to love your shadow and not run away from it...

But never give in to your fears and demons as it might lead you to the path of hatred and that is my boy not why we are alive....

I want you to realize that life is precious and a gift...and that we are worthy of having it...and we should make the best of it...

I want you my love, to take chances...to take chances that I never allowed myself to take because of fear or anxieties...to take life in - all of it my boy...dance like no one is watching you…let your laughter be loud and blissful

Most certainly take precautions, as your life and health is so precious beyond belief.

But don't let cautiousness take over....I read somewhere that "look both ways before you cross the street, but cross the street"...

And above all, remember that acceptance, kindness and compassion are part of the things that make us human.

I wish for you to learn the art of loving and become a compassionate man....be ALWAYS kind to everything in the world, after all this is not your playground alone, that we are here to love and share and care for life and for the world...

And for me my sweet:
I pray that I will be worthy of the blessing of being your mother. I want to make few promises to you: that I will never force my will on you, that I never assume I know the best or even better...that I try my best to “hear” you, to “feel” you, to "understand" you and to “see your point of view in life”….

And ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS remember: Mamma loves you NO MATTER WHAT!
My love for you is not a concept, it is tangible my dearest!

The imaginary friends that I fell in love with...

2008-04-15T15:32:00.022-04:00

I am starting to be excited about this “Blog thing”…

I have to say my quest for the holy grail on internet started few years ago with one and only "Wikipedia". Like anything else in my life, it took a long time for me to “warm up” to a new thing (I can feel my husband's sigh and nod now!)….so after a while I moved to Amazon.com, amazon.ca and amazon.uk!!!!

Then I moved to other sites that I needed for all sort of information about pregnancy and baby – lots and lots of baby pages and one in particular babycenter.com…then I moved to sites from which I could order stuff that I could not find in my hometown…and let’s face it shopping on line did it for me. I was hooked my dear!

Then it came the obsession with Facebook….and then as I said in the little “about me” section of my profile, out of serendipity I became a “Blogger”…the little scared me that was always a writer but more preferred old fashion way of writing (diary book…)

So I developed my new life on a place without walls – how significant for me, a person that needs lots of walls in life for her privacy and protection…a life online!!

Think about this “life online”…It is really a strange phenomenon…at this day and age we don’t know our neighbors but make what feels like deep philosophical and soulful connections with strangers that are across the country or around the world…

People who you know would have been such a close friend if they were living next door…and not in imaginary land of cyberspace!

Because let’s face it, we meet in a virtual playground...whenever we can steal a minute or two from our busy daily schedules…either when the kids are having a nap or mostly in the middle of the night…midnight when “most” of the “to do” list for the day is done, when the kids are bathed and in sleep and most of the chores are completed (or hopeless to be completed!)…especially for a person like me that is a night owl living in East coast…so I can have my imaginary friends in West coast or in Europe…

It works perfectly for me considering that I always think I have a defective “friendship Gene”…I mean I have a handful of grate and amazing friends that I am very close to…but it took such a long time to be at this point of closeness (and still except my husband no one knows about my Blog- or not yet!)…and I have a personality that makes it difficult to be close to anyone (with my perfectionism, the ultimate feeling of “being not understood” and extreme privacy and all the rest…)

So without even realizing it, on the land of no walls, strangers and I become friends because we are as different as we are alike.

I was a person that used to judge the “Blog” or “chartrooms” harshly. Because let’s face it I can easily be categorized under “cynical” personality….But let’s be honest here: there is wisdom out there for those who care to see it. Internet as a medium has such an amazing ability to allow thoughts and fears and hopes and struggles of human lives come out in the open.

So now I go through my day and realize I am wondering “what does that Blog post today?” or “Oh I have to write about this on my Blog”….

It is such a paradox….With this “life online” my world just got smaller and at the same time my world just expanded beyond imagination…

So far my “life online” is just a mindless escapism of an anonymous Internet browser and every Blog or web site that I check (and sometimes check daily) are just my 'imaginary friends'…I do not exist for them….I post my opinions for some of them under “Anonymous”….I visit them sometimes even daily but in any conventional term they are strangers to me….maybe I am afraid of the judgment on my writings and thoughts….maybe the knowledge of them knowing me – in any capacity- will make me not be free enough to be myself on my blog – and this is one place that I choose to be as free as my personality allows….

Or maybe just maybe, it is too sweet to have only imaginary friends…the ones that are always there…. and no trouble will be in the land of imagination…EVER!

There is no greater order than disorder....

2008-04-14T15:19:00.019-04:00

I get anxious when there is no order to life.

Such a simple sentence, such a profound meaning….

I admit to this truth with sadness and disappointment....

Somewhere in the core of my being I yearn to not be like this. I envy people that take “it” easy and let life roll as if it is a wind and a breeze. I envy so much those people that swim so artistically with each ebb and flow of life…those amazing extra ordinary people that have so much to deal with and still manage to not be anxious about it and just bend skillfully without braking.

Still loosing control of what is happening in life, brings so much anxiety to me. I think about all the things I can't control. The anxiety starts to build up in my core. Then in order for me to move on with the daily routin of life I have to shake my head, hoping to shake all the negatives away, but they always find their way back.

Deep down in my soul I do know that life is all about braking the orders...after all that is what we can see every second of the day around us. I believe with all my heart that I would be so “alive” if I was no so anxious about the disorders and unpredictable changs (or shall I say the fear and apprehension of disorders) in my life....but if only I knew how to brake the pattern without braking myself and being absolutely in a verge of a panic attack..

Any unexpected change in the prepared order can bring the flood of stress to my heart….so I try even more to expect the unexpected and prepare some kind of imaginary orders to all the “what if”s…After all I am a very good chess player and can prepare myself for a few moves ahead!!!

Where does this desperate need to have control over my life and bring some order to it come from?
I don't know!
Isn't it possible that it comes from the deep fear of making a mistake?
Maybe…I don’t know!

As a parent I think I spend so much energy worrying about things within my control as well as beyond it.

I look around at other families around me; mothers with children -some families with more than one child and some mothers are working full time - I hear their stories about their life and their children and then the comparison between them and I as parents will begin. There is not a single day that I do not tell my husband "but how do they do it?"

He sometimes repeat his usual answer: "You are too perfectionist"....as if being perfectionist is not "heavy" burden enough, I am "too much of it"....He is right though! There is no running away from it.

I wonder am I making a mistake as a mother. Is he missing out on something because of my personality?

Then I push those horrifying thoughts to the furthest corner of my mind. Because there is so much to do and there is no time to be paralyzed with a self assessment that will possibly end in a shocking terror.

Let's face it in the most ordinary day there is always so many things that need to get done before any time to self reflect (if that time comes even in 24 hours!):
Have a shower(maybe if there is enough time, otherwise it will be sometime in next few hours!!), get dressed, change my son, get him dress, prepare breakfast and feed my little angle (and possibly forget mine), getting the dishwasher emptied (which I dread), getting the laundry folded and put away ... all while playing with my son, sing for him and dance my silly dance and try very hard to keep him out of any harm that his curious nature can bring to our path...and try very hard to remember the stuff I know I forgot already!
And all this before noon!!!

As a mother I understand this aspect of my emotions so well....and to be totally honest here, I do not think what I described above is out of proportion for a mother. But who am I kidding? I was like this when I was a child...so let's not put the entire burden on the tiny shoulders of motherhood....

I am happy, I am sad...

2008-04-13T15:08:00.020-04:00

Oh God, doesn’t it fly, time I mean?
And soooo fast…

I have such an ambivalent relationship with “time”….I am sure it will be the topic of many more enteries in this blog.

But since I became a mother I HATE its pace. I just want to freeze every single second that I have with my son and make it last for eternity. I am REALLY serious about this. I don't mind even going through many more labors if that means all can start from the first second over and over and over again...When I say this, my mother think I am absolutly out of my mind (she was in my labor room and remmbers every second of "its" pain...I on the other hand remmber how amazing it was. I do remmber every second of it too but for some reason I just love all of them and especially the minute that the doctor put my naked baby boy on my body....)

One minute mashes into another and before you blink your eyes, your baby that just came out of your warm body has gone from “goo goo, ga ga” and "adda, atta" to a full sentence and I guess then off to college…

I feel it was yesterday that I was having his warm body next to mine and looking at those adorable little toes and that gorgeous wrinkly face and thinking:

Very soon he will have his full eyebrows and eye lashes
Very soon he will hold his head
Very soon he will smile
Very soon his toothless grin will be gone…will be full of pearls
Very soon it is time to start solid
Very soon we move from mesh to “real food”
Very soon it is time to sleep in the crib... no more in our bed
Very soon those chubby feet that I can kiss for eternity will hold his weight and off to go…we are toddling

My baby is not a newborn, my baby is not even a baby, and the correct term now is a toddler as he is 18 months old and running...
But for me, he is my baby, he will always be MY BABY - emphasize on both “my” and “baby”:)

Like every mother I worry for arrival of milestones on time…
Gushed over “roll over”, giggled with his “laughter”, clapped for him “sitting unsupported”, made the loudest sound of cheer when he said his first clear word: “Mamma”, checked for his “teeth”, went mooshed with his “crawling”, tried not to be so scared with him “standing” himself and hold my breath with his first steps of “walking”….

I was happy for arrival of each and every milestone…I was sad with arrival of each and every milestone…

I think you can only feel the intensity of this tog of war if you are a mother…

That joy and pride for your baby for moving forward and his achivment....that enormous sadness that you are leaving the dearest moments of your life in the trust of a memory box….either the box in your mind and heart or the box in the closet.....