We are now in the process of putting out there via blogging our most secret or sacred thought of the day (or not) for anyone and no one to see. I am fairly certain almost no one will read this, and I like it this way. I am writing this for myself, but I am still putting it out these. Many aspects are attractive, it is one place, it is neat, organized (unlike my chaotic memory, or often house, for that matter- but I really try on the last one).
The mania for sharing has taken over many people and in some countries it means revolutions, but in some countries it means broadcasting what & where you ate. How banal. I have thought of Mark Zuckenberg as someone who sits on a throne and gently waves his arms from people's minds toward his pocket, mantra-ing come to me... meaning give me your thoughts, give me your impulse to be friends, give me your secrets, and I will turn them into money. For me and my lovely investors. But all is good. For those who want to "like" their friends' choice of whatever they are consuming, even spiritually.
I just read an article int he Times about a you tube comedian girl who has millions of teenage viewers. I wonder... what is happening to the world?
It was just Easter, I felt it in the blossoms, the hymn I remembered, the resurrection of nature called spring. I learnt about the Holy Fire, and how someone tried to bribe "it".
I moved my arms in the style of Cunningham today, feeling his touch of cool greatness, the nature more focused than a ballerina. He gave me an interesting correction- tucking during battment is basically teaching, but he gave it in a much nicer way... he was kind of intense too.
Then back to Dumbo, then a big thank you to a friend watching Ava, then home. Home. Home.
A flashback from earlier today creeps through.. a song came to me under the lilac tree, the same one that Misha's grandmother loved.
"If your heart is tightening, then give something of yourself, and it will be released from its own confines again". It is a really physical thing. I have let my anger out of its borders. I have been more than difficult. I owe a profound apology to my mother-in-law. I tried to give it. Maybe it worked.
But I am home now.
Thank you, Sveta Bogoroditsa, for preserving us all.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
thoughts on a mercedez benz
the science museum
the yoga to the people class
reading about a former sergeant who is now a peace protester
the mercedes nissan difference
it has been exactly two weeks and one day since we bought a secod car. it was a very fast but unusual transaction. mailman that is my husband's friend and former classmate told us that a few blocks away lives a guy that is thinking of selling his old Mercedes Benz. Now, when we say old, old it is, but it turns out it is also collectible and ince theman is a Mercedes lover he also was taking care of it. On our first meeting he described it to me as his my baby and that it will break his heart to see it go. I suppose I felt a little bad about that, but the man also had two other cars and his wife was nagging him to sell it. He is also about 70 and from Italy, a small central town near aghhh I forgot. My husband and I joked a lot about it, picturing his Italian wife saying over and over again, ahhh just sell it, just get rid of it, we need the parking space. so we ended up really ging tfor it. this was the only car that we looked at, and we got it for 26 hunderd. a 1990 300E Mercedes benz, with a twinkle in his eye and not a little irony, my husband said, oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedez Benz.... and here it was. Black, a little square looking, bigger than I thought, heavy, with leather seats slightly worn, but very very very strong. turns out they dn't make 'em like this anymore, turns out the engine is 6 cylinder and of a better built than today's engine. turns out it cost over 100 grand back in the 90s as brand new. Turns out it only takes premium (i later learnt you can put the middle type of gas in, that is what i call it because i can't remember the real name, althouh i was just at the pump), and premium is 40 c more expensive per gallon. turns out you really have to press that gas pedal to get it going, but boy, once you do, it is flying. turns out it can get to 15 miles an hour by inertia, without any extra gas, down the hill from our house to the stop sign. So, basically, this car is not ideal for the stop and go of suburbia, it is not the best to be trailed by the new fast cars, that can quickly accelarata e in between stop signs, and then well, stop.
This car is for the a-slower-going. It puts you back in time, and I like that, it makes you breath a little easier, tune to your favorite radio and basically take it a little easier. Which I do, to the frustration of anyone who is driving behind me, but so what. I am not planning to burn gas like crazy, just cuz someone behind me is doing 40, and they should be doing that anyway.
now the highway is a totally different story. To my surprise, this car is very good on the highway, it is stable and once accelarated, it glides securely.
Above all, having a car and a toddler and living just beyond the edges of the subway system has meant that our world has truly opened up. We were not really able to get around before. I was absolutely resisting having a second car for my so called environmental views and for the fact that traffic in NYC can be a wonderfully stubborn monster that unless studied and cajoled with skill, can bring one's nerves down very very mercilessly.
so i made it with teenie weenie babe and then was making it with a very squigly toddler without a means of transportaiton of our own until very very recently.
but now here i am, with this car, able to go many many places. and we have been, we have not stopped. it seems an age since i did not have a car you see, because now we go places every single week day, until the weekend comes, and then i rebeliouslu leave the house leaving the little one with daaddi and ride the Nissan. Whis was a funny experience tis saturday morning, i got into the Nissan and pressed the gas so hard the car basically darted like a confused arrow until i realized i have to quickly retrain my calf muscles to not do that. The Nissan now was a different creature, much faster, much more sensitive, a whole lot lighter and likened to the Mercedes it seemed like a superior but a lot more fickle gazelle, unable to understand why is someone trying to ride her as if she were a heavy-boned tiger. I must have been quite the sight.
Oh, and did I mention, thanks to being the proud owner of an old car, I now know the following things:
- lights that come on the dashboard, those are trying to tell you important things that you must pay attention to;
- a circle with an interecepted line around it means that the front break pads are worn and need to be changed;
- the engine oil must be checked more often, and there is a long think metal stick that I pull out in oder to see the level;
- gas is expensive, there is a way to drive getting more milieage;
- a loud annoying beep comes on unless i have put on my seat belt; i dread hearing the beep;
And so it goes on.
Thanks to the freedom of owning a car, I took Ava to the NY Hall of Science yesterday. It was a meager 10 minute rider and following a brief confusion, we found free parking across from it and next to a spacious playgroun in Corona, Queens, on I believe 46th Ave and 111th st. The next few hours proceeded to be a most trying and education experience in the what seems to be new stage of toddlerhood of my little one.
She loudly and unearthingly cried upon being greeted and merely approached by my newly made mama friend. Absolutely refused to play and share with her kid and threw herself into my arms and cried even louder if such a thing is possible because I gave some magnets she had abondoned to the forementioned baby. wow. I flet as if someone had cut off my head, then levitated it to high ghigh above and giving it the opportunity to observe the scene without necessarily producing any good idea on what to do. My body meanwhile was still there, holding my screaming toddler, trying to comfort what seemed impossible to comfort.
This was very unlike Ava. So far, she has been to the MET (a much bigger, colder and more imposing museum where a toddler is hardly welcome except in very choreographed ways) at least 3 times, maybe more, she has been to many libraries, coffee shops and restaurants and has really generally been very very acceptably tolerable and even quite exemplary for a tiny human being.
but yesterday was probably what every parent dreads during a museum trip. I had to quickly act because I felt the mounting attention of parents around me and their probable suggestion, take her out. I should probably mentioned we were in the special preschool indoor sectioned off playground, a not very big space crowded with parents and kids and science inspiring gadgets. As soon as I took her out though, she stopped crying and became a bit more friendly. SHe held onto my hand tightly and then we walked down the hallway, and into the North Wing of the museum, which is full of absolutely amazing science demonstration stations- video, devices with physical demonstrations, hand manipulation stations to teach about experiments, little booths with technology simulation. i was absolutely taken by the space and so was Ava. The tears drying on her face, my 22 month old sat with me (she pushed the sole button) through a few replays of a video on live organisms in the geysers and hot springs of the Yellowstone National Park where these same organisms who can live in environments as acidic as a car battery and hot above and beyond boiling temps fossilize the same very moments they are born. My own brain, feeling the tickle of the information, yawned lazily and said this is AWESOME. Awesome is right. This was fascinating and somehow the little onw could feel it. Now it became clear to me and it all clicked. Why keep her in a closet of loud under 3s? Look what else they got here! We proceeded to spend almost 30 solid minutes at the ocean forming demonstration stations where little pieces of dry ice moved via a tiny conveyor belt and into a pool of water where they proceeded to impressively turn into gas. This meant to explain how a long long time ago, oceans formed on our planet thanks to comets coming into our atmosphere and proceeding to melt into the depressions of the earth's relief and thus raise the water level. That is one theory at least. The glass surface of the station had tiny holes that one could blow into, therefore creating massive atmospheric movemtns akin to perhaps stormy winds. I didn't know I'd be finding myself watching comets melt, and as I watched Ava patiently watch for each comet to "drop" and then Wow with fasination, I realized that my toddler is ready for learning far beyonf the confines of the supposed toddler world full of plstic toys adn stuffed animals.
the challenge is...
...to slowly understand the reasons behind strong passions, behind anger and to mitigate them on the beautiful valley of movement, of dance, of God's resurrection, of the benevolence of Isus Hristos to bear with me.
Yeli, Hristos Voskrese! Vuistina Voskrese. I hear these words as if in a movie, as if in shock that they are almost in my native language, for which I am so thankful. Because out of the millions around, who really knows them?
Yes, bring her, we will pick Stefan up from school and take her home. She can play here, while...
While mama speeds away through highways that pass by many many houses, schools, and all sorts of buildings I will never know, while mama worries about traffic, while mama's brains explodes with desire for learning the 4-D of movement, to re-connect, to explore what she had, what she lost, but not quite... While mama dances. Dances... While mama glimpses the city beyond the veil of cemeteries and it gives her its look of the day, the prognosis for the mood of the evening. And she marvels, and she marvels at those cemeteries.
While she parks on a tiny cobblestone block, Truxton St, I believe, under many levels of
While she zips in and out of the city, the fast incredulous miraculous Golgota, that is also Paradise and Hell and many other things. While she remembers the name of Chris Heller, who she will later try to pandora, while regretting she no longer buys dvds or records (though those she never really bought). While she finds a quiet moment to read on the subway and to sit amongst black people.
While she remembers, she has to run, run, run. She remembers the combination. She adores the teacher. She processes.
Upon returning, she receives 2 diapers, one with ako one with pipi. They are cloth. Cloth diapers are good for the environment.
Above all, she receives the love of gratitude for the universe, for a wonderful borrowed brother for a few hours, who read her books, and gave her chocolate, and showed her a new game, yes, a video game, but... excused.
Because mama danced. The grown-up dance of a child, for only a child at heart can dance.
With honesty.
Yeli, Hristos Voskrese! Vuistina Voskrese. I hear these words as if in a movie, as if in shock that they are almost in my native language, for which I am so thankful. Because out of the millions around, who really knows them?
Yes, bring her, we will pick Stefan up from school and take her home. She can play here, while...
While mama speeds away through highways that pass by many many houses, schools, and all sorts of buildings I will never know, while mama worries about traffic, while mama's brains explodes with desire for learning the 4-D of movement, to re-connect, to explore what she had, what she lost, but not quite... While mama dances. Dances... While mama glimpses the city beyond the veil of cemeteries and it gives her its look of the day, the prognosis for the mood of the evening. And she marvels, and she marvels at those cemeteries.
While she parks on a tiny cobblestone block, Truxton St, I believe, under many levels of
While she zips in and out of the city, the fast incredulous miraculous Golgota, that is also Paradise and Hell and many other things. While she remembers the name of Chris Heller, who she will later try to pandora, while regretting she no longer buys dvds or records (though those she never really bought). While she finds a quiet moment to read on the subway and to sit amongst black people.
While she remembers, she has to run, run, run. She remembers the combination. She adores the teacher. She processes.
Upon returning, she receives 2 diapers, one with ako one with pipi. They are cloth. Cloth diapers are good for the environment.
Above all, she receives the love of gratitude for the universe, for a wonderful borrowed brother for a few hours, who read her books, and gave her chocolate, and showed her a new game, yes, a video game, but... excused.
Because mama danced. The grown-up dance of a child, for only a child at heart can dance.
With honesty.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
The state we are in!
This morning I got up after a fun breastfeeding wake-up mamo session, then made oatmeal, which Ava proceeded to eat by herself with a spoon from her bowl while learning to say the number 5. That brief moment of hearing her pronounce fffaaaaif and catching a glimpse of her properly hold her spoon while very properly sitting amidst my usual zig-zagging frenzy made my morning. She is today 22 months and 2 days.
It was a grey morning, and it is now a grey day, but luckily we had the morning planned so there was the impetus to get out which I have realized is crucial for a smooth day. I managed to shower, do my hair and make-up and dress with thought. If you know me, you will realize what a wonderful Everest of an improvement that is.
Ava refused to get dressed before putting on her shoes, so after some ignoring that fact, I did manage to get her in presentable clothes... She looked adorable nevertheless in last year's red jacket top and jean overalls. The puffy winter coat was the last fight before jumping in the car where her baby-doll was dutifully waiting for her to distract her from the fact that she is being strapped into the car-seat. A fact she dislikes, but manages to ignore for me. A sigh of relief.
We drove to the McGoldrick library and parked and walked in. Toys and puzzles and floor mats were all set up for the free 5-week TLC program we are attending. I like the puzzles because they are from 1984 and they are totally crude and look hand-drawn. Also, I believe they are from some kind of chipboard and not plastic.
Today's topic was "nutrition". How awesome! Even more awesome was the fact that this friendly mama I met last time came and brought her 3 boys. I jumped on the chance to speak to the children's nutrition specialist, ask her questions and pick her brain. I learnt that toddler's stomach's are tiny. That kids can well self-regulate at this age. That yes, if you leave them to eat by themselves they will eat as much as they need. No need to fall into the i must stuff my kid frenzy, in which even the nutritionist admitted she occasionally falls into. That yes, offer new foods, offer different vegetables, but don't expect them to eat it right away, they probably won't. Continue offering though. Without much fanfare, but with the air of this is your food my dear and this is what we eat. Rolemodeling is the biggest thing, she said. They will watch you and if you are eating fried chicken and offering them grilled, they will not fail to notice that fact and sooner or later get it, and perhaps develop a habit for it too.
Which is not the worst thing in the world, but it is not the best thing either. It all depends how it falls into the bigger picture and the balance of one's specific life. Meaning, fried chicken once in a while is not bad if you have some nice fresh or cooked veggies at dinner. And same goes for chocolate and other type of food for the... satisfaction of the cravings.
But there is something else too, there is the whole effort to train the will to be able to help one avoid foods that are not necessary, to be able to help one go through lent and to maintain optimum health. We did not talk about this because when it comes to toddlers, there is one truth that became apparent today, a truth that made me grateful for the effort to attend the seminar and grateful that i am in the presence of a wonderful toddler being- they know how to eat better than adults, because they will not stuff themselves willingly and with a little gentle reminding and no more cookies in the house, they will eat the healthy food in front of them. For me to achieve that, I would have to reprogram my brain. But for that another time.
Morning turned into lunchtime, and talking about food got us all hungry. Ironically, the friendly mother I mentioned asked me if I want to go to McDonald's. My pitch for Korean Bi Bim Bap did not go far. I had to quickly weigh my perceived grossness of McDonald's against the awesomeness of the fact that a mother of 3 asked me on a quick lunch date. I said (drumroll) yes. I had to quickly override my absolutely no McDonald's rule with my absolutely make new cool mama friends rule. Because let's face it, what restaurant or coffee shop will be happy to accommodate with no hassle 4 small children ranging from 7mos to 5 years old? Not many, or maybe not any. So anyway, Ava did not really like the chicken nuggets, jumped on the fries, finished her milk and generally was really just on best behavior. The boy toddler squirted some water on my face while his mama picked up a work phone call (yes, she works and makes $! i am in awe) and the rest of the time one could have barely noticed that there were 4 kids at the table. Except maybe for one older Korean lady who gave us a good long gaze, waiting to see if we let the tow toddlers climb on the table. We did not.
This particular McDonald's is nicer than most, full of Koreans and Chinese, stupidly expensive, but pretty clean and well, fast. Cheap for what you get- mmmm, no, no way. But none of that mattered, what did is that I got to hang out with a new mother, someone that automatically gets a ton of points for having the guts to come out with her 3 kids, one of them a little baby, one a cranky toddler and one yes, a helpful student. I saw us laughing, sharing, scolding and most importantly, connecting. On our way home, as we each got into our separate cars and we each headed for our direction, we happened to pass each as I turned away from Northern Blvd. and she was turning onto it. And in that moment, as I chuckled and waved bye, I wasn't just a confused young mama trying to navigate a whole new neighborhood and a whole new world, I was just a local who recognized a familiar face, a friend, a familiar face willing to recognize and be recognized for the simple human that they are- a mother, a woman, a face, smiling behind the windshield.
It was a grey morning, and it is now a grey day, but luckily we had the morning planned so there was the impetus to get out which I have realized is crucial for a smooth day. I managed to shower, do my hair and make-up and dress with thought. If you know me, you will realize what a wonderful Everest of an improvement that is.
Ava refused to get dressed before putting on her shoes, so after some ignoring that fact, I did manage to get her in presentable clothes... She looked adorable nevertheless in last year's red jacket top and jean overalls. The puffy winter coat was the last fight before jumping in the car where her baby-doll was dutifully waiting for her to distract her from the fact that she is being strapped into the car-seat. A fact she dislikes, but manages to ignore for me. A sigh of relief.
We drove to the McGoldrick library and parked and walked in. Toys and puzzles and floor mats were all set up for the free 5-week TLC program we are attending. I like the puzzles because they are from 1984 and they are totally crude and look hand-drawn. Also, I believe they are from some kind of chipboard and not plastic.
Today's topic was "nutrition". How awesome! Even more awesome was the fact that this friendly mama I met last time came and brought her 3 boys. I jumped on the chance to speak to the children's nutrition specialist, ask her questions and pick her brain. I learnt that toddler's stomach's are tiny. That kids can well self-regulate at this age. That yes, if you leave them to eat by themselves they will eat as much as they need. No need to fall into the i must stuff my kid frenzy, in which even the nutritionist admitted she occasionally falls into. That yes, offer new foods, offer different vegetables, but don't expect them to eat it right away, they probably won't. Continue offering though. Without much fanfare, but with the air of this is your food my dear and this is what we eat. Rolemodeling is the biggest thing, she said. They will watch you and if you are eating fried chicken and offering them grilled, they will not fail to notice that fact and sooner or later get it, and perhaps develop a habit for it too.
Which is not the worst thing in the world, but it is not the best thing either. It all depends how it falls into the bigger picture and the balance of one's specific life. Meaning, fried chicken once in a while is not bad if you have some nice fresh or cooked veggies at dinner. And same goes for chocolate and other type of food for the... satisfaction of the cravings.
But there is something else too, there is the whole effort to train the will to be able to help one avoid foods that are not necessary, to be able to help one go through lent and to maintain optimum health. We did not talk about this because when it comes to toddlers, there is one truth that became apparent today, a truth that made me grateful for the effort to attend the seminar and grateful that i am in the presence of a wonderful toddler being- they know how to eat better than adults, because they will not stuff themselves willingly and with a little gentle reminding and no more cookies in the house, they will eat the healthy food in front of them. For me to achieve that, I would have to reprogram my brain. But for that another time.
Morning turned into lunchtime, and talking about food got us all hungry. Ironically, the friendly mother I mentioned asked me if I want to go to McDonald's. My pitch for Korean Bi Bim Bap did not go far. I had to quickly weigh my perceived grossness of McDonald's against the awesomeness of the fact that a mother of 3 asked me on a quick lunch date. I said (drumroll) yes. I had to quickly override my absolutely no McDonald's rule with my absolutely make new cool mama friends rule. Because let's face it, what restaurant or coffee shop will be happy to accommodate with no hassle 4 small children ranging from 7mos to 5 years old? Not many, or maybe not any. So anyway, Ava did not really like the chicken nuggets, jumped on the fries, finished her milk and generally was really just on best behavior. The boy toddler squirted some water on my face while his mama picked up a work phone call (yes, she works and makes $! i am in awe) and the rest of the time one could have barely noticed that there were 4 kids at the table. Except maybe for one older Korean lady who gave us a good long gaze, waiting to see if we let the tow toddlers climb on the table. We did not.
This particular McDonald's is nicer than most, full of Koreans and Chinese, stupidly expensive, but pretty clean and well, fast. Cheap for what you get- mmmm, no, no way. But none of that mattered, what did is that I got to hang out with a new mother, someone that automatically gets a ton of points for having the guts to come out with her 3 kids, one of them a little baby, one a cranky toddler and one yes, a helpful student. I saw us laughing, sharing, scolding and most importantly, connecting. On our way home, as we each got into our separate cars and we each headed for our direction, we happened to pass each as I turned away from Northern Blvd. and she was turning onto it. And in that moment, as I chuckled and waved bye, I wasn't just a confused young mama trying to navigate a whole new neighborhood and a whole new world, I was just a local who recognized a familiar face, a friend, a familiar face willing to recognize and be recognized for the simple human that they are- a mother, a woman, a face, smiling behind the windshield.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Бяло, Зелено, Червено
This past week I took my little one to the annual 3rd of March Bulgarian Concert to note the Day of Bulgarian Independence (think the Bulgarian 4th of July). It was in a high-school auditorium across from the Bulgarian Church on W 50th St. The program was varied, folk, popular, classical music as well as lots of folk dance.
To my immense delight I ran into many Bulgarian friends and there were many young families with children and no restriction on kids playing, so Ava got to run and dance inspired by the singing and dancing she was captivated by on stage. She really enjoyed her first live classical piece, a wonderful viola, cello and violin trio that she watched from beginning to end. That gets me thinking...
I also heard some pop songs from the 90s that reminded me of songs and so I have been singing all week reminiscing about my country, immigrant memories and things that past some years ago, years beyond which there is no returning ("Бягство" от Авеню).
I had forgotten how much I love live performance and how stimulating I find it. I promised myself to go to as many concerts as I can in the months to come. Realistically, it's probably not gonna happen, but it's worth to aim that way with warm weather coming and with so much offered in this city.
A giant horo snaked at the end of the concert powered by the awesome brass band Slavic Soul Party (saw them in concert many times, nice nice nice) through impossibly narrow spaces and men, women and children forgot for a moment that they were in the middle of a foreign metropolis. No longer busy New Yorkers with busy lives, all were just Bulgarians in the village square, doing what they always do, dance horo hand in hand to seal joy and togetherness. There is so much wonder in seeing that, and Ava was hands down, amazed. Girls just a few years older than her were doing the steps perfectly and with a ton of sparkle and I wished in my heart that she will know those steps and more herself one day and feel all the joy that comes with dancing.
From your own mama that is a dancer, know Ava, movement is wonder, dancing is hard, and every single second of it is so worth it.
To my immense delight I ran into many Bulgarian friends and there were many young families with children and no restriction on kids playing, so Ava got to run and dance inspired by the singing and dancing she was captivated by on stage. She really enjoyed her first live classical piece, a wonderful viola, cello and violin trio that she watched from beginning to end. That gets me thinking...
I also heard some pop songs from the 90s that reminded me of songs and so I have been singing all week reminiscing about my country, immigrant memories and things that past some years ago, years beyond which there is no returning ("Бягство" от Авеню).
I had forgotten how much I love live performance and how stimulating I find it. I promised myself to go to as many concerts as I can in the months to come. Realistically, it's probably not gonna happen, but it's worth to aim that way with warm weather coming and with so much offered in this city.
A giant horo snaked at the end of the concert powered by the awesome brass band Slavic Soul Party (saw them in concert many times, nice nice nice) through impossibly narrow spaces and men, women and children forgot for a moment that they were in the middle of a foreign metropolis. No longer busy New Yorkers with busy lives, all were just Bulgarians in the village square, doing what they always do, dance horo hand in hand to seal joy and togetherness. There is so much wonder in seeing that, and Ava was hands down, amazed. Girls just a few years older than her were doing the steps perfectly and with a ton of sparkle and I wished in my heart that she will know those steps and more herself one day and feel all the joy that comes with dancing.
From your own mama that is a dancer, know Ava, movement is wonder, dancing is hard, and every single second of it is so worth it.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
These past few weeks...
Every time I attempt to write my thoughts present themselves in a jumbled mess, the notable events worth sharing suddenly blending and refusing to speak to me in a clear voice.
I don't think it's because my first language is not English. It's probably because I am an inexperienced writer and a relatively new mother and the art of clear thinking has left me for the better part of two years now as pregnancy brain molded into mama of baby and now mama of toddler brain.
The past few weeks were notable for the incredible snow we got, finally, its quick melting, the big big deal it was going to be and the fact that it really wasn't.
They are notable because of the intensified search for some sort of a nursery school for Ava (0 results so far), the realization those cost cats and dogs, and the incredible amount of fantasizing after affordable amazing babysitters that must exist somewhere within reach (have not looked for them) or the insanely shocking affordable (by U.S. standard) "ясли" of my native and very very far away Bulgaria.
In his State of the Union address Pr. Obama mentioned that affordable and perhaps government subsidized nursery school is really necessary in this country. It gives a headstart, teaches socialization and separation and is, all around, a good thing. Even a preferred thing. It is also, in my view, expensive. I really feel my little daughter is ready for it. She shows all the signs that she is. She is eager to learn the movements that accompany songs (the bus, bean bag, happy if you know it, tea-pot songs), she is rapidly expanding her vocabulary every single day now, and she is also incredibly interested in other children. I am spreading myself thin running to catch buses and subways and sometimes walking for miles to take her to whatever "mommy and me", "toddler time" and other age-appropriate activities there are in libraries and a local church schools.
But to put her in a regular nursery school would mean I would have to make the extra $, and that would mean I need to get a part-time job while she is in the school. Could the timing ever work for that? The programs I like are usually 3 hours in the morning... for a few days a week. That would make 9 hours a week. What would that free time give me and could it ever be $ earning?
Talking about free time. I could really really use some. I need a haircut, I want to get back to dancing, I fell in love with a Yoga class, I have the high high ambitions to organize a summer monastery-building camp in Bulgaria with volunteer Americans, I want to make this blog cute and I want to stretch. I want to call my girlfriends and start the farming/gardening planning. Oh, yes, I want to finish the upcycled toy I created the Pod-House and draw and design and make clothes. But most of these wishes remain, on a daily basis, wishes only.
I am intensely curious to find out what exactly the schedules of other stay-at-home mothers are. It seems that with us, time just flies away and even recent planning, memories and determination to accomplish the tasks down the to-do list liquify and swirl just past my reach.
Which leads me to consult my calendar and a few brief notes and to remember that:
- On Feb 2nd was Dragi's babyshower, which I hosted for her at my place. It was a lot of work, but it came together beautifully with a fancy cake I made, decorations (first time shopping at the super party store ever) and entertaining lots of people I've met only a few times. Ava was pretty amused and at times a little stunned to see so many strangers in her living room ;). But there were kids too!
- On Feb 9th was the big snow blizzard that was even given a name, which turned out to be just lots and lots of puffy snow and snowman making opportunities.
- Between Feb 10th and today, we went to 2 mommi & me, 2 toddler times @ libraries (West Village and Queens), St. Nicholas 3 times (the Sundays), visited Anja and baby & Sisi for playtimes, got visited by them for playtimes, visited Grace Playschool Open House and basked in the sun at noon the days that were sunny eating hot soup from the old-school Italian gourmet deli.
Playing at home, I discovered that Ava can stand on point by pulling herself up onto a kitchen drawer, is learning an incredible amount from playing Zoo Train and I See Ewe on the i-pad (words, letters) and is totally in love with her best friend's new little brother! To the point that she recreates her observations of his mama and him by addressing her stuffed clownish like doll as baby and proceeding to swaddle, rock, feed and put it to sleep. She will also sometimes quite unceremoniously ask Sisi (baby's mama, my mama bestfriend) to hand baby David to her by outstretching her arms and saying baby, baby. But we can't quite trust her with a real baby yet, can we?
We can and do however trust her with a ball and she is starting to throw and catch and even shot at a hoop. Go 22 months!
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I don't think it's because my first language is not English. It's probably because I am an inexperienced writer and a relatively new mother and the art of clear thinking has left me for the better part of two years now as pregnancy brain molded into mama of baby and now mama of toddler brain.
The past few weeks were notable for the incredible snow we got, finally, its quick melting, the big big deal it was going to be and the fact that it really wasn't.
They are notable because of the intensified search for some sort of a nursery school for Ava (0 results so far), the realization those cost cats and dogs, and the incredible amount of fantasizing after affordable amazing babysitters that must exist somewhere within reach (have not looked for them) or the insanely shocking affordable (by U.S. standard) "ясли" of my native and very very far away Bulgaria.
In his State of the Union address Pr. Obama mentioned that affordable and perhaps government subsidized nursery school is really necessary in this country. It gives a headstart, teaches socialization and separation and is, all around, a good thing. Even a preferred thing. It is also, in my view, expensive. I really feel my little daughter is ready for it. She shows all the signs that she is. She is eager to learn the movements that accompany songs (the bus, bean bag, happy if you know it, tea-pot songs), she is rapidly expanding her vocabulary every single day now, and she is also incredibly interested in other children. I am spreading myself thin running to catch buses and subways and sometimes walking for miles to take her to whatever "mommy and me", "toddler time" and other age-appropriate activities there are in libraries and a local church schools.
But to put her in a regular nursery school would mean I would have to make the extra $, and that would mean I need to get a part-time job while she is in the school. Could the timing ever work for that? The programs I like are usually 3 hours in the morning... for a few days a week. That would make 9 hours a week. What would that free time give me and could it ever be $ earning?
Talking about free time. I could really really use some. I need a haircut, I want to get back to dancing, I fell in love with a Yoga class, I have the high high ambitions to organize a summer monastery-building camp in Bulgaria with volunteer Americans, I want to make this blog cute and I want to stretch. I want to call my girlfriends and start the farming/gardening planning. Oh, yes, I want to finish the upcycled toy I created the Pod-House and draw and design and make clothes. But most of these wishes remain, on a daily basis, wishes only.
I am intensely curious to find out what exactly the schedules of other stay-at-home mothers are. It seems that with us, time just flies away and even recent planning, memories and determination to accomplish the tasks down the to-do list liquify and swirl just past my reach.
Which leads me to consult my calendar and a few brief notes and to remember that:
- On Feb 2nd was Dragi's babyshower, which I hosted for her at my place. It was a lot of work, but it came together beautifully with a fancy cake I made, decorations (first time shopping at the super party store ever) and entertaining lots of people I've met only a few times. Ava was pretty amused and at times a little stunned to see so many strangers in her living room ;). But there were kids too!
- On Feb 9th was the big snow blizzard that was even given a name, which turned out to be just lots and lots of puffy snow and snowman making opportunities.
- Between Feb 10th and today, we went to 2 mommi & me, 2 toddler times @ libraries (West Village and Queens), St. Nicholas 3 times (the Sundays), visited Anja and baby & Sisi for playtimes, got visited by them for playtimes, visited Grace Playschool Open House and basked in the sun at noon the days that were sunny eating hot soup from the old-school Italian gourmet deli.
Playing at home, I discovered that Ava can stand on point by pulling herself up onto a kitchen drawer, is learning an incredible amount from playing Zoo Train and I See Ewe on the i-pad (words, letters) and is totally in love with her best friend's new little brother! To the point that she recreates her observations of his mama and him by addressing her stuffed clownish like doll as baby and proceeding to swaddle, rock, feed and put it to sleep. She will also sometimes quite unceremoniously ask Sisi (baby's mama, my mama bestfriend) to hand baby David to her by outstretching her arms and saying baby, baby. But we can't quite trust her with a real baby yet, can we?
We can and do however trust her with a ball and she is starting to throw and catch and even shot at a hoop. Go 22 months!
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Friday, February 15, 2013
hey there, crazy legs
My legs are hurting so much.
I have to keep my mind incredibly busy to not think about it. It is a constant pain that starts behind the knee and spreads down to the calves, and vice versa.
I think about food a lot. The moment I want something I almost instantly am repulsed by it too. A good example would be going down the list on Smorgasbord's Brooklyn website. Brooklyn bangers? Sounds yammi. Ugh, actually, the meat inside those hot-dogs is probably gross. Bombay sandwich co.? Interesting. Oh, mmmm, no, I could never eat those spices... they will make me puke.
At the end of the day, I very carefully devour salads, sweets and meat, and feta, tons of feta, and crackers, hoping all the way nothing triggers the nausea. It works.
Ak-mahk and Finn Crisps are the absolute best crackers floating me on!
If anything of this sounds familiar to you, be warned- you are probably pregnant. Days are a string of nauseous moments and they start and end with impossibly thin whole wheat crackers.
Oh, and last night at a restaurant I almost threw up smelling a friend's freshly polished nails. She must have stepped out of the manicurist right before meeting me.
Those are the days!
I have to keep my mind incredibly busy to not think about it. It is a constant pain that starts behind the knee and spreads down to the calves, and vice versa.
I think about food a lot. The moment I want something I almost instantly am repulsed by it too. A good example would be going down the list on Smorgasbord's Brooklyn website. Brooklyn bangers? Sounds yammi. Ugh, actually, the meat inside those hot-dogs is probably gross. Bombay sandwich co.? Interesting. Oh, mmmm, no, I could never eat those spices... they will make me puke.
At the end of the day, I very carefully devour salads, sweets and meat, and feta, tons of feta, and crackers, hoping all the way nothing triggers the nausea. It works.
Ak-mahk and Finn Crisps are the absolute best crackers floating me on!
If anything of this sounds familiar to you, be warned- you are probably pregnant. Days are a string of nauseous moments and they start and end with impossibly thin whole wheat crackers.
Oh, and last night at a restaurant I almost threw up smelling a friend's freshly polished nails. She must have stepped out of the manicurist right before meeting me.
Those are the days!
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