Cities

An acquaintance of mine said to me the other day, that whenever she starts thinking about intellectual matters and sort of tries to train her brain, her head aches like crazy.
She made me feel better about myself for that's what I've been feeling last 13 months.
Sometimes I can't recognise myself, I get emotional very easily, my speech gets nervous and writing - worse. There are times when I re-read my posts (mostly in Georgian, because you shouldn't ask much from me in English) and they are so illogical. Not that I've ever minded logic, but still, I used to write well (at least to some taste).

Then one rabbi who is also our family friend, gave a class couple of months ago and told us, that somewhere in Talmud it states that woman continues to have her "pregnancy mind" for two years, especially if she's nursing.
When I was in the midrasha I used to say that Talmud isn't studied by women only because it's all about what men think and say, and we (wise girls) know that men never understand women, they are from different planet, so women will not bear studying a book which is only based on men's wisdom.
So now I really take back my words, Talmud is right. Pregnancy mind (rather lack of it) definitely continues for more than a year - I am living proof for that.

After couple of months we had Ezra, my brother-in-law came over for Shabbat and before dessert we decided to play some game. Since you can't write or use various muktzeh things on Shabbat, we started to play this very Soviet game called: "Cities". It goes like this, 4-5 people are in game; one of them picks any letter from Alphabet and says a name of a city (e.g. Leipzig), and second one says the name of other city beginning with the last letter of the city mentioned before (Leipzig - Glasgow), so it continues like that (next one will be Glasgow - Weimar). Time is also very limited there, VERY MUCH indeed, you should say the city names in one-two seconds, quicker you are, the better.
Now I'm trying to remember the suitable expression to my failure in that game.
I couldn't recall the cities of Georgia, let alone the worldwide. My mind was blank. All right I could've named some of them after thinking for couple of minutes, but not in seconds definitely.
So I got very upset, left the room and cried my heart out. My husband tried to calm me down reminding me what our midwife had said abour postpartum time + nursing = mini-dementia.
I was upset and embarrassed anyway, because I used to be quite good at that game and knew loads of cities.

My husband asks me every now and then if I'd like to try, but I am scared and always say, not yet.
You know what though? Having written this, I realise that I probably will play this Shabbat. It's time to overcome the embarrassment, it's my family after all and no-one will laugh at me if I fail again.
I can't let the pregnancy mind become me, if you know what I mean. Plus, I am not pregnant anymore and it's been more than a year since, I shall give it a try.

What a great mind-[en]lightening thing is blogging, isn't it?

Lie

Yesterday somebody tweeted this photo of a little Iraqi girl who drew her mum and then lied in her like an embryo. So moving and heartbreaking. I didn't think twice to retweet it.

Then suddenly it stroke me that I was influenced by media. By that very media I hate so much - prejudicial,Western, immoral and mindnumbing.
First, look at the drawing (especially the haircover bow, no way a child could've drawn it so accurately), I don't think girl of this age could have drawn that. It rather looks like a cartoon woman from Marjane Satrapi's books.
Second, this heartbreaking and moving shot is SO very Western, particularly American, that makes me sick. In American, I mean pseudo-emotional images that are pushed on us through Hollywood and media again. Things that have no value and still make us believe they do.

You know how tolerant I am and how I love people, but this photo was too much.
Such a lie.

If someone ever cared for this Iraqi girl (if she really is the one to have drawn her mum) they would never let the war break out - they would never destroy millions of people's lives. They wouldn't get billions from selling the weapon to kill people, to violate their rights and to make them homeless, helpless and orphan. They would never abuse prisoners, never break down the great antiquity of Babilon.
Now please, stop fooling us, especially emotional mums like me, because we can use our brains if/when we need to.

Better one

When I put Ezra to sleep millions of thoughts fly into my mind like colourful butterflies and they are beautiful. Usually my thoughts are beautiful or should be so if I try to think about pleasant things more. Sometimes those thoughts are little melancholic and nostalgic, mostly they are sweet and tender like my baby’s dreams.

I love when he falls asleep and I can see how peaceful he is, how innocent and miraculous. Every baby is a miracle, but I came to realise this only after a year I think. I never thought it would be so true when people used to say that you only feel real love towards your child after she’s one, because the circle of some phase is closed and you can see clearly what all that was about.

Those hard times of first months when I just started to nurse Ezra, the almost 4 months of colicky period, when he had terrible winds and I couldn't help him much, then those times when I tried to train him to sleep… I know more is to come, but this first year is unique, makes my heart melt, because I know this was about building the physical and emotional fundament for Ezra to keep growing up and becoming an excellent person.

Time has flown. I mean that’s how people say, but I don’t quite agree with that. Time has gone by just as I’ve expected – on its time. Time is wise. Rather Hashem is.

Now I just walked by the small sofa and recalled Ezra when he was two months old, he would fall asleep on my chest and then I would put him on that sofa very very slowly so he stayed asleep and I could go to cook dinner. Then I would come back on my tiptoes to check him and tried my best to walk so that our laminate floor wouldn’t make noise. Sometimes I succeeded, sometimes – not and he would wake up asking to hold him and comfort him. Then we would nap together on the same sofa – we had often napped there for three hours, which was great and I will always miss it. I am not sure if one gets as much sleep with next babies because first one needs so much attention, doesn’t he?

I’ve also grown a lot during this year. I look back and some days seem like a dream. As if they've never happened, but I only saw a dream and it faded away leaving little purple touch on my soul, if you know what I mean (well, those who know my love to Marquez). There are so many things in life influencing us, hurting us and in the same time motivating us to move on, never stop, never mind stumbling, just go on and on.

I learnt how to be patient, not to lose my temper as easily as I used to; I achieved being nicer to people that annoy me, not to get angry with Ezra when he refuses to sleep or eat, which still is something I keep on working and making myself not to explode, but smile to him and show how calm I am so he eats one more spoonful porridge. Still a challenge.

Life is all about learning anyway. I need to learn new things everyday in order to move on and become better person than I was yesterday -- better wife, better mum, better daughter and just better Sophie. Not always easy, rather hard, but achievable, that's what I'm here for.

Getting and deserving

I wrote a big "heartful" post yesterday and on last minute decided not to publish - it was too personal. Not that I was giving out some intimate secrets or anything. No, it was deeper - coming from the darker side of my soul which has been eating me lately.

You know this dark side comes out, when you feel most weak and tired; exactly then millions of disturbing reasons come to your mind proving that you are miserable and failed in something that was always so important for you.
Profession.
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The problem for my generation and probably for the whole world is the fear of being failure. Fear of not looking cool in others' eyes; fear not having things that others have; fear to be less successful than your university friends (my case); fear to be less beautiful and so on.
That's what makes us depressed - feeling that we don't get what we deserve. Don't we all believe we deserve the best because we are the best personalities of the world?
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Every now and then I get mad. And then I am so ashamed of it. You get angry when you have no control over something and things are not going your way, we all know, and it seems to me that things are not exactly going as I wish they were lately.
People irritate me, environment irritates me, even the smartest and loveliest baby Ezra irritates me and I start to cry. Deep in my heart I know I am happy and lucky for having all I have now and I should be acting more mature, but I can't help it. I pick on everyone and everything and only thing that saves me is going out for a walk and breathing the fresh air. Temporarily.

There are times when I doubt everything in the world and believe that it's all about money, power and fame :| I know it's my post soviet ghost haunting me over and over again, making me feel like a trapped animal and reading "Perfect Day for Bananafish" for thousandth time. Only Salinger can save me, I say.
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This too shall pass, but may come back again.

(This post was re-created/rewritten under the influence of Metallica's "For whom the bell tolls" live in South Korea)