What Can I Say?

Image by ashley rose, via Flickr

It is decided. I am having a shitty month, a shitty week and a hell of a life. So here I am, felling sorry for myself, as usual... Maya recovered from her puke bug but the bug evolved to a diarheea bug, so that's why everything is shitty at the moment. And my son had a motorbike accident and broke his leg...Yeah, I know, shi...I mean bad. Now you see what I mean.
What is to write about?
Moreover, today one of my "friends" asked me if I want to go out with the kids, she has a daughter, older than Maya (6yo) and even though I wasn't in the mood, I said, what the heck, what could possibly happen to make things worse than they already were. Well, you'll be surprised...I forgot that this lady is the "know it all" type and that we cannot have a civilized conversation because it is usually a monologue, her monologue. First of all, her kids are the best behaved kids in the Middle East (and Romania, she is Romanian like me). I remember that she was absolutely shocked when I told her that, when Maya was a baby, I used to prepare large batches of fruit and vegetable purees, freeze them in ice-cube trays and use them according to my baby's desires. She gasped and told me that she NEVER has fed her children food that was FROZEN and that she never has heard of such a criminal act as freezing baby food. And the lady is true to her word. She cooks for her kids every single day, every single damn day!!! Today, when I told her that Maya has diahreea and that I'm feeding her according to the BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast) she said that I am not doing the right thing and she recommended only water, no food, for as long as the diahreea lasts. I told her that she should take a look at Maya, she's so skinny that if I'll give her only water she's die of starvation. And the truth is, the BRAT diet works wonders for my baby, she is feeling much better, no emergency visits to the toilet this evening. So, I returned home feeling worse and now that Maya is sleeping, I am here, in front of my beloved PC trying to figure out a strategy for copying with my life.
The Jews have a saying "Change places, change your luck". Maybe my luck changed when I came to live here, maybe I should've stayed in Romania. The truth is, I was happy there, no matter what others say, no matter how bad things were there, I was at home, where my roots were, where I had friends and family. I still feel connected to that place somehow, because, at the same time, I feel root-less, suspended between two worlds, one real, that I don't belong to, and one imaginary, the world of my fantasies and memories, and I feel that I don't belong to that world, not anymore. Does it make sense? I hope so, even though I don't really know what I feel, not now anyway.
Another random thought now...thinkink about premonition and mothers. Yesterday my son went out at aproximately 8 o'clock in the evening. I went to bed somewhere around 11 o'clock, but I wasn't able to fall asleep. I am an insomniac, you know (but that is for another post). At aproximately midnight I was wide awake and went out to check if my son was at home. Strangely, he wasn't...strangely, because usually on week-nights he doesn't stay out late (he has to go to work the next day). I returned to bed and waited to hear his motorbike...and waited, and waited, and prayed saying "God, just help my son to get home in one piece". I felt that something wasn't right. I heard the door at 1 o'clock but didn't want to pry on him (he is 23 yo and doesn't like to be treated like a baby - his words, for me of course he is still my baby) and I almost instantly fell asleep, knowing he is at home... In the morning it was different, when I received the news that he broke his leg, but I knew that God listened to my prayer. It we look at it from the optimistic point of view, he broke a leg, it could've been worse, much worse...
The conclusion? I have to go now...To count my blessings...