I Don't Need Much...

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I don't need much to feel good. Not happy, but content...
Maya is finally asleep, after a day of much running and coughing. My husband watches TV, my son is in his room (nothing new here) and I am alone in the living room, with my new laptop and a pot of strawberry yogurt. As the forecast for tomorrow is rain, rain and more rain, I've put my laundry to dry here, in the room, on a drying rack and the room smells deliciously of clean clothes. I sigh with content as I anticipate the few hours of reading I have ahead of me. I intend to start the fourth book of Jim Butcher's "Dresden Files". And maybe later I'll drink a cup of ginger and hibiscus tea. What else could a mortal like me ask for ?

Adventures in Lala...sorry, MayaLand

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I thought about an appropiate title to my post, and I hesitated between the current title and something along the lines of "Motherhod, Poems and Other Household Chores..." or "Motherhood, Writing and Cooking Doesn't Go Together"...But in the end it was Maya that won, well, mainly because she always wins over whatever other things I have to do.
I agree that I gave up my "brilliant" teaching carrer because I wanted to stay at home with my baby, at least for the first three years of her life. I didn't know it will be so difficult and time consuming and energy-sucking...well, even if I knew that, I would've done the same. When Darie, my boy, was Maya's age, I was caught between being a single mother and a student and afterwards a journalist, very young and thirsty for a career, for money, for a better future. I'm cured now, but that's another story.
Anyway, some days I just have enough of being a housewife and mum and I try to do other things as well. As I regained my inner voice I started to write and I work on other projects as well...I mean I TRY to write and TRY to do other projects, you know what I mean. During the day I can hardly concentrate on anything else, whenever I try, it is a recipe for disaster anyway (I burned a few pans when I tried to cook and write at the same time).
For example, my day today looked like this:
Maya woke up at 7 o'clock and asked for her milk and her daddy. Fortunately, daddy was still at home, so they cuddled on the sofa and watched some television until I managed to open my eyes and ask for a cofee. Then, daddy went to work and we started our morning routine: toilet, bathroom, shower, teeth, breakfast, more cofee for me. I was able to check quickly my mail, blog and other stuff, then we played for a while. Maya is into puzzles now, so we have to do a few in the morning, for a better start of the day. Then, we went out to do some shopping (when we don't shop we go to the park), returned home, I started on cleaning the house a bit, I tried my eliptical machine for 15 minutes (I try to return to my prehistorical shape, and for now I am able to do 15 min on the damn machine), during this time, as I listen to very loud music to "motivate " me and to keep the rhythm, Maya danced like crazy. Then, shower, luch, some TV, some drawing, played with the cars, played a spelling game. Tried to do some work (I have begun translating my poems) but Maya cried "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..." and tore away the pages I was working on. Explanations, some tears (from both sides). Started on dinner, but forgot about it, remembered suddenly when some strange smell emanated from the kitchen and Maya screamed "Stinky!". Re-started dinner, meanwhile gave Maya her bath, finished dinner, fed Maya and myself while watching "Little Einsteins". Finally, her daddy came home at 19.oo, so I gave her milk, she brushed her teeth with daddy and...BLISS...daddy put her to sleep. Wait...I had to iron some shirts for Tibi, took out the dog, fixed my husband dinner, cleaned the kitchen...And here I am, dead tired, I mean dead-dead tired , it is 9 o' clock in the evening and I have a few hours only for myself... And what am I doing? Blogging? No way! My books wait for me, calling my name. No work this evening, I am going to read until I drop...I discovered a new writer (new for me, of course) - Sergei Lukyanenko, absolutely fantastic, he writes the sort of urban fantasy I like so much...And I want to start reading his books - well, what is translated in English.
One more thing. This is a compressed version of our day in Lala, sorry, MayaLand. I also have an old dog to take care of, and feed, and walk...and other small things, like a big apartment to clean, clothes to wash and iron...Aproximately a month ago (or more, I think) I started going to the dentist...I am still going, and believe it or not, I enjoy it. I walk to her cabinet and on my way I listen to audio books, and there, while she does her thing, I have time to put my thoughts in order...Could you believe it.
Gotta go now. Books to read, dreams to dream. Big day tomorrow...

(the picture in this post is a stamp with the Bee Maya, you know, the cartoon character. I think the original cartoon was German, therefore the German stamp)

My Disfunctional Family

Image by santacrewsgirl via Flickr

I never ever have had what one would call a "standard" family. You know, the one you see in those framed pictures, with mothers, fathers and other relatives all over the place...My mother got herself divorced when I was 2 or 3 years old, and for a few years I remember being happy, having a sort of 2/3rds of a family, that's being me, my grandmother and my aunt (my grandmother's sister, that is). I don't know if there were other men in my mother's life during that period, but good as it was, it didn't last for long...My mother got remarried when I was 6 years old and after a year, my sister came along, then my brother and then the other brother...And after that, life has never been the same... I felt I didn't belong in that family, my stepfather made it pretty clear he didn't like me around, so I was sent to live with my aunt (and so I lived, on and off, until I got married). My mom and her husband never got along, so she divorced him also. Life got pretty hard after that. My mother had to work to earn enough to feed and dress us all, I was the one that had to entertain the kids and my grandmother was the one that cooked and cleaned and washed and cared for us. We all loved her very much, I think in a sense she was like a surrogate mother for us.
Meanwhile, our mother was busy looking for another step-father for us all. We saw an interesting assortment of guys in our house, from a former priest to a married guy, until mother settled to the worst of them all, the crazy, alcoholic Willy. When mother married Willy I was already married, with my own family problems to solve, my own demons to hunt. But I know that life was crazy back at mother's. And things went from bad to worse and it culminated with mother leaving everything and going to Germany with Willy. At that time I was already divorced, living in another city. I didn't get along with Willy, he made it very clear I am not to set foot in their house anymore, so I complied. I didn't have any choice, he was crazy, and it would have made my mother's life worse that it was.
What happened after mother left it is a mistery to me. My sister was already married and went to live in her husbands home town, and my two brothers were left like that, after my mother had to sell the house to pay the debts they had. I never asked them how they managed...WE don't talk much and we don't keep in thouch, only sporadically. The one I keep in touch with is my sister.
This is, in short, the story of our family.
Now, my mother is a widow again (I like to call her "the Black Widow" because all her three husbands died) and she is living in Germany. I live in Israel. One of my brothers lives in England, the other brother and my sister live in Romania, but it different cities. So, can we call this a family???

After I got divorced I swore I would't get married again...I didn't want my son to go through the hell that I went through will all the different "fathers" that I had. I was alone for aproximately ten years and only then I gathered the courage to get married for the second time...Now, no matter what happens, you'll have to drag me out of this marriage, because I am staying...I had enough marriages and relationships and men to last me a life-time. And two children from two different fathers is enough.

We go through a pretty rough patch righ now and I hope to God that I'll have the strength to go on, no matter what, because I made enough mistakes in my life and I had enough of paying for them...