Tag Archives: humor

first, second, third

Transformer-mom: first, second, third

First, second, third – this post is not about these brave moms who bring children with a very small difference of 1-2 years. My reality is different, I had had the time to taste the essence of motherhood with every child for a few years. And my way of accepting and rejecting has been changing dramatically as years flew by.

First things first

First child – take him, somebody, let me sleep. Please, I want to sleep. I want to do some shopping therapy. Make money. Blog, go out, be stylish, slim, pretty and fresh. Will my baby ever grow up? I want to do everything except being the 24-hour mom. This new mom uses every opportunity to sneak, evade and crawl away to get some fresh air. I look for nannies, private kindergartens, after-kindergartens activities – then I realize I want to be a good mom and it frustrates me even more. A vicious cycle with only one way out – understanding what I really want from life.

First child – there is so much hidden meaning in these two words. Lots of emotions, expectations, disappointment, frustration and joy. Rushing about between trying to be an ideal mom and wanting to escape to the nearest moon from the hassle. Asking myself – was I conscious when I made the decision to thrust myself into this spinning-wheel? Looking at the wheels of the stroller (pun intended) when walking and thinking that I must be somewhere on that wheel: being smashed and crushed every few minutes, getting up just to be crushed once again in a never-ending series called parenthood.

Middle Finger

Second child. O.K., this is hard. It is the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s not even close to what it felt like with the first one, when I could get some morning sleep and afternoon nap. I can’t handle this. I can’t handle two small creatures running, shouting, breaking things and driving me insane. All I can do is look out of the window and feel jealous of the young girls who can go shopping hands-free. Yoga doesn’t help: I still don’t like the way I look and I am not calm. NOT CALM AT ALL! I still want to make money, to look good, to have enough sleep, to have some time for myself. I want to stretch time. But it is impossible. And I’m going totally insane. It’s amazing I can still function, smile, talk, run tasks and even make some money. I spend sleepless nights sending energies into the monitor, pretending I’m making a career. Time cannot stretch beyond itself and even the horrible sleepless nights spent in working end. And I’m a sponge. No time or energy for the two sweetest individuals who crave my attention. The feeling of guilt is far behind me, I did what I felt the right thing to do at the moment. But…

Third time is magic

Third child – what a blessing! Every moment is a gift. How come I am so relaxed, confident and happy? Where do I find the time to blog, to take care of myself, to have enough sleep (ehhh?…) to look good and feel even better? I wish I had started with the third one right away. Is it the timing? The age? The experience? Life conditions? Different environment? Or is it me and my inner world, having changed so drastically, that handling three of them plus a million of other tasks seems almost a routine pleasure?



Absurd self-pitying helps mom survive the day

When I started this blog I had a vague idea what it is going to be about.
I knew there were a lot of things I could share with the world. But I wanted to be selective and not try to please everyone.
Most of the posts concentrate on how to be a meditative, happy and balanced mom, not to burn yourself on silly things, unnecessary tasks and hassle.

So, as a “balanced” and “meditative” mom the big question came up today was:

does mom always have to be happy? And what if she isn’t? Does she have to do something about it right away?

Why does the rest of the world put up with the hypocrisy, the need to put a happy face on sorrow, the need to keep on keeping on?… I don’t know the answer, I know only that I can’t.
Elizabeth Wurtzel


We are led to think positively, bad mood and fatigue is something not fashionable, not something you’d like to talk about in a social event, party or business conference. Because it hurts your image of success, your brand or whatever you are trying to promote. Successful people must stay cool, isn’t it so?
But I’m not trying to sell you anything, so I have the luxury to be honest.
In the past few days I haven’t felt particularly happy. There is no special reason for that other than physiological exhaustion and the desperate need to refill my energy.
I’m sure there are lots of mom who feel constantly drained out by daily tasks, but they (the moms, not the tasks), would reluctantly admit the fact that they want to drop everything. Just everything. The kids, the dishwasher, the laundry, the partner, the family holidays, the morning routine. And take a rest in a forest, on the beach, on the 30th floor of some luxury hotel or anywhere else you can think of (I, personally, choose the forest, what about you?)

The goal of this post is to remind us, moms, that it’s OK to feel bad and it’s OK not to do anything about it at the given moment. At some point you will have to do something, since you cannot drag yourself on autopilot forever (there is a high price for that in the end). But right now, in the middle of the day, just allow yourself to fall into the weakness.

What helps me in extreme cases of fatigue, when I’m on the verge of tears from my own helplessness, is to bring the situation to its very absurd.
Usually, I hate pitying myself and hate when others do. But in extreme cases, I do pity myself in a derisive way to make things look so ridiculous that it would, eventually, make me laugh.

You can find your own words for absurd self-pity, but remember the rules of the game: it must be totally grotesque, no real pity. For example: “..oh, poor girl, such a poor girl. She barely stands on her feet and she has so many things to do today…  Things she cannot postpone, cancel or delegate… Her babysitter has cancelled, her husband had gone on a business trip and she faces it all alone. What a tough world… time after time she has to pull herself on and never stop for a rest… at night she has to make the laundry, at 5 a.m. she has to milk the cows, then mend shoes and sue holes in shirts and pants… her bloody fingers cannot move from pain, and she also has to cut the woods to make some fire… it’s so cold outside… wild animals run around, she must keep on the fire… oh, don’t let her sink in the sea of her own tears. How sad life can be… Are there words strong enough to describe how much she wants to drop dead on her pillow, close her reddish eyes, let her hand dive into her hair and just stay still like this for about a century? Why, oh why, can’t there be a miracle to let things happen by themselves. Why can’t kids show up home by themselves, why can’t the damned laundry make itself, why can’t the dishes jump out of the dishwasher and settle themselves properly on the shelves. Why, oh why does she have to do it all? There is also some mental work waiting to be done… poor girl, her brain is not working well, she has memory leaks, she is going to lose the job and probably homeless since she is the one who earns all the money in the family… what a shame, and there is no way out…”

The most important part is the intonation. Even if you don’t say it out loud, the merciful song has to play inside accompanying every silly question. I assure you, that after these lamentations, if you work hard enough to bring it to an absurd, you will eventually laugh and find some bits of energy to continue through the day with more optimism. Life is not that hard, after all, and you don’t have to cut the wood to make fire.

Of course it cannot work like that forever. At some point, the sooner the better, you will have to regain the gas in a traditional way (read = sleep). But this surrealistic method has helped me so many times, that I can surely tell – it works! If it’s not new for you and you have your own anti-crush recipes, you’re welcome to share. I’m always willing to learn new survival techniques.