I've been thinking lately that this blog isn't working anymore and I probably should be thinking of making something new, write often and more openly. I am not sure though if I am able to do that. Let alone that I don't have that much time and as Ezra grows older he needs more attention from me, he needs to be entertained all the time; second thought was, English is not my mother tongue obviously and I might not be expressing myself well writing in English; and last but not the least - I am not honest. I mean, I am sometimes but mostly I think I am not. No, I am not pretending or anything, I just omit many many things that are going on in my life, things that bug me a lot and I just don't write about them.
Should I be though?
The only annoying (all right, sometimes there are more) thing about Judaism is that you can't and shouldn't criticize people but work on yourself and if somebody really gets on your nerves, you should go and tell. You should not get angry in any situation because getting angry equals worshiping idols which is THE major sin of all. Unfortunately we are all idol worshipers every now and then, especially when this very idol happens to be our own ego.
Anyway.
That day passed and I think I won't leave this blog. I'll try to write whenever and whatever I can. I really wish I could write interesting posts here. I've been reading loads of blogs, but there are so few that I really like. I think there is only one actually. This young Australian woman, Talia, who must be somewhat of my age blogging about her family and cute 8 months son.
There are some other blogs too, but they get boring. But this girl Talia keeps it so simple and natural, you don't need to try hard to like what she does. She was quite inspiring for me to continue blogging in English actually, to be what I am, what I REALLY am no matter how hard it might be.
What about Sukkot, you'd ask me. I think this year's holidays have been very very hard for our family as my father-in-law almost died from terrible heart attack just before Shabbat that proceeded Rosh Hashanah. He's been in hospital since then and most probably he won't be able to get back. This is unbearable for his wife and sons, especially my husband who is so fond of him. I might not be able to understand that feeling exactly but when I see my husband so sad and blue my heart is breaking. What do you say in times like this when you are sure it is not going to be all right? Nobody wants to hear you saying that it's G-d's will and everything is for the best. You don't tell that to people who lose their beloved and dear person, do you? Because no-one needs your stupid consolation. So all I do is being next to my husband and his family, and Ezra, baruch Hashem, is the sun that makes his grandma and everyone smile.
Sukkot is such a beautiful time of the year when all the Jews come out, build up the sukkah (hut) and live in it for 7 days to remind themselves how they left Egypt, wandered homeless, and only G-d was above saving them from hunger and thunder.
Exactly 3 years ago Sukkot holidays inspired me to start searching for my roots, for my nation and my G-d that is actually not only mine but the whole wide world's if only they knew it. Many things happened in my life since then, I went through many things as name and homeplace changing... and now here I am, far from that Sukkah I went 3 years ago in Tbilisi, Georgia, my hometown; now I am in cold Europe trying to keep the sun on my windows as long as it is possible, totally changed as mentally so physically (well, you have to change when you give birth and nurse, and don't limit the food at all) and growing older (hopefully wiser too) day by day.
Why am I telling you all this?
Because it's Sukkot, the festival of joy, time to receive guests in your hut and recognize the might of Hashem: nothing in this world is yours, even if you own all the world luxurious villas and mansions, when it comes, it comes and you are out to wander again, homeless...
Jewish holidays are just wonderful, always reminding us where we were so we don't forget where we could also end up.
The Chol ha moed started today, couple more days and Shabbat again, then on Sunday night we will welcome Simchat Torah which is one of my favourite festivals. I'll keep you updated, bli neder.
(You see I am a master of hopping from one subject to other like Holden Caulfield. What scares me is that Holden was just 16 and I am 27.)
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Friday, September 28, 2012
Babies and mamas again
Seriously, sometimes I get sick of those mamas talking only about their babies and what drives me mad is when I read their letters. G-d!
How come everybody's baby is an angel?
How come others' babies sleep like lambs through the night?
How come they go to sleep by themselves, no rocking, no singing, just a kiss goodnight and there they go?
I just don't believe them.
My baby doesn't sleep through the night and I believe that's natural.
He's not an angel, thank G-d. He has a personality and in Judaism that matters a lot. Angels are considered as G-d's slaves who have no freedom of choice unlike humans. So, my baby is a real human - he cries, fusses, wakes up early in the morning and scratches my nose with his tiny nails and makes me happier than anyone can be.
He doesn't go to sleep by himself. He needs to be soothed and rocked, and cuddled and kissed and held tight to mummy's chest because that is the most safe place in the world.
We are not perfect, thanks to Hashem, neither me nor Ezra. I can't tell you whether we strive for it or not. I just want to be the mum that will always be there for her son and make him feel secure. I hope I shall be the extraordinary mum giving my child freedom and independence while setting some limits so he learns right from wrong.Well, I am my mum's daughter, can't fight it (I will always be amazed by how great she's been, may she live long and healthy life!!!).
And Ezra wants to be happy for this moment. He just wants to play with us, have fun, be cared, loved and nurtured as every other human being. Sounds like the Smiths' song, doesn't it?
I guess I lost the point.
If you really want to know, I take it easy. I shouldn't and don't judge those mums. They just seem superficial to me. How can they be so calm and happy with everything? Do not their babies cry at all? Have they never thrown up on them? Haven't they been hurt in the beginning of nursing? COME ON!
There are few blogs where I've read honest mums and keep reading them. They are great not trying to be the ones they are not.
And then comes the light when I tell myself, Sophie, why don't you relax and enjoy your life, I mean, get mad if you want to and be the kind of mum you like, forget others. But I am a human too, you know, and I tend to believe I might be better than others which is not nice at all, I know. Because no-one is better than other; we are all same. The difference is only in culture and geographic psychology as such. Just forget the religion and my soviet background in the upbringing. I am still the sunniest sun in the world that believes in green juicy apples and LOVE.
Good night, loves!
:)
How come everybody's baby is an angel?
How come others' babies sleep like lambs through the night?
How come they go to sleep by themselves, no rocking, no singing, just a kiss goodnight and there they go?
Lovely Emma Bunton (baby spice) with her baby boy
I just don't believe them.
My baby doesn't sleep through the night and I believe that's natural.
He's not an angel, thank G-d. He has a personality and in Judaism that matters a lot. Angels are considered as G-d's slaves who have no freedom of choice unlike humans. So, my baby is a real human - he cries, fusses, wakes up early in the morning and scratches my nose with his tiny nails and makes me happier than anyone can be.
He doesn't go to sleep by himself. He needs to be soothed and rocked, and cuddled and kissed and held tight to mummy's chest because that is the most safe place in the world.
We are not perfect, thanks to Hashem, neither me nor Ezra. I can't tell you whether we strive for it or not. I just want to be the mum that will always be there for her son and make him feel secure. I hope I shall be the extraordinary mum giving my child freedom and independence while setting some limits so he learns right from wrong.Well, I am my mum's daughter, can't fight it (I will always be amazed by how great she's been, may she live long and healthy life!!!).
And Ezra wants to be happy for this moment. He just wants to play with us, have fun, be cared, loved and nurtured as every other human being. Sounds like the Smiths' song, doesn't it?
I guess I lost the point.
If you really want to know, I take it easy. I shouldn't and don't judge those mums. They just seem superficial to me. How can they be so calm and happy with everything? Do not their babies cry at all? Have they never thrown up on them? Haven't they been hurt in the beginning of nursing? COME ON!
There are few blogs where I've read honest mums and keep reading them. They are great not trying to be the ones they are not.
And then comes the light when I tell myself, Sophie, why don't you relax and enjoy your life, I mean, get mad if you want to and be the kind of mum you like, forget others. But I am a human too, you know, and I tend to believe I might be better than others which is not nice at all, I know. Because no-one is better than other; we are all same. The difference is only in culture and geographic psychology as such. Just forget the religion and my soviet background in the upbringing. I am still the sunniest sun in the world that believes in green juicy apples and LOVE.
Good night, loves!
:)
Friday, September 7, 2012
Yiddishe mama
I'm cooking Zimes/Tzimes, SO yiddishe, you know it. My husband is very very yiddishe man indeed. He was brought up in a family where his grandmum, father and uncle used to talk in little yiddish. And now that memory is so deep in his conscience that anything Yiddish means sweet and dear for him.
That's how I came to cook to him Zimmes for Shabbat. He mentioned couple of times there was this "Meren zimmes" (meaning german Möhre (carrot)) that his grandmother used to cook and he would love to taste it again. I found a recipe which goes this simple:
1 kg carrot
1/2 c sugar and 2tbs honey
50 gr raisins
100 gr butter or light margarine
Chop (I actually had carrots grated) carrots and simply stir all the ingredients in the pot at once. Cook it for 40-50 minutes on a low temperature. Oh, and before adding raisins, they need to be soaked in a hot boiled water for 15 minutes, then mix with other products in the pot.
Some people add nuts or other dry fruits to this dish, like apricot. Some even make zimmes out of sweet potatoes. Choice is yours as long as you enjoy making it and having your family happily fed on Shabbat. This is the main goal of every yiddishe mama which I think I might be becoming. But I promise I'll try not to spoil Ezra as every Jewish mum does - cooking and baking so perfectly that daughter-in-law has to work hard (really hard, I can attest to that) to impress her husband. I am a cool mum and should be even cooler mum-in-law, BS''D!
Shabbat Shalom, should say A GIT SHABBES!!!
(Just a week and little more before Rosh Hashanah! Man, so much to learn, work on and last, but NOT least, to cook loads for yom tov.)
That's how I came to cook to him Zimmes for Shabbat. He mentioned couple of times there was this "Meren zimmes" (meaning german Möhre (carrot)) that his grandmother used to cook and he would love to taste it again. I found a recipe which goes this simple:
1 kg carrot
1/2 c sugar and 2tbs honey
50 gr raisins
100 gr butter or light margarine
Chop (I actually had carrots grated) carrots and simply stir all the ingredients in the pot at once. Cook it for 40-50 minutes on a low temperature. Oh, and before adding raisins, they need to be soaked in a hot boiled water for 15 minutes, then mix with other products in the pot.
Some people add nuts or other dry fruits to this dish, like apricot. Some even make zimmes out of sweet potatoes. Choice is yours as long as you enjoy making it and having your family happily fed on Shabbat. This is the main goal of every yiddishe mama which I think I might be becoming. But I promise I'll try not to spoil Ezra as every Jewish mum does - cooking and baking so perfectly that daughter-in-law has to work hard (really hard, I can attest to that) to impress her husband. I am a cool mum and should be even cooler mum-in-law, BS''D!
Shabbat Shalom, should say A GIT SHABBES!!!
(Just a week and little more before Rosh Hashanah! Man, so much to learn, work on and last, but NOT least, to cook loads for yom tov.)
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
27 mirrors
I looked in the mirror this evening and noticed wrinkles on my forehead. It felt so old, I cannot even describe. I felt like I've lived thousands of years and still more coming while I am already old and wrinkly lady. It's funny actually. I am not that old, am I?
27 is the age of beautiful death, but no worries I do neither drugs nor rock'n roll. I used to wish I did, but now I think that is ridiculous. Everything is stupid but family. Nothing is worth in this life but loving and let be loved, have babies and spread more love.
Do I sound like John Lennon? Stop war make love-ish or something, I know.
I did not mean to post tonight at all. This blog has become just dwelling place for me where I could come and hide into its caves, you know what I mean. Few people ever read it so I feel like looking in the mirror and this time not feeling old, but strong and beautiful. All right, I still have some weight to lose after childbirth, have to buy some good creams to perish the wrinkles maybe, smile when Ezra fusses and let him know that I am his mum forever, and he can count on me anytime.
I responded the e-mails I had received over a month ago and realized that put my soul into them. Sometimes I wish I received the letters/e-mails as soulful as my own. I used to receive ones from one special girl from Osnabruck and then she quit because I could never find time to answer properly and now feel very bad about that. Isn't it sad that we usually forget/ignore/hurt people who deserve much more than others?
I wish I was a good, altruistic kind of person. Or maybe I don't wish it honestly and all I really care about is to look in the mirror and feel good about myself and only. Don't we all want that actually? Feel good about ourselves? That's when we're happy expressing what we are or what we want to be.
I guess I need vacations. I need more time with my husband. I need the sea, and the starry night that makes you forget everything including mirrors and 27 wrinkles on one's forehead.
Last mirror and I am gone.
27 is the age of beautiful death, but no worries I do neither drugs nor rock'n roll. I used to wish I did, but now I think that is ridiculous. Everything is stupid but family. Nothing is worth in this life but loving and let be loved, have babies and spread more love.
Do I sound like John Lennon? Stop war make love-ish or something, I know.
I did not mean to post tonight at all. This blog has become just dwelling place for me where I could come and hide into its caves, you know what I mean. Few people ever read it so I feel like looking in the mirror and this time not feeling old, but strong and beautiful. All right, I still have some weight to lose after childbirth, have to buy some good creams to perish the wrinkles maybe, smile when Ezra fusses and let him know that I am his mum forever, and he can count on me anytime.
I responded the e-mails I had received over a month ago and realized that put my soul into them. Sometimes I wish I received the letters/e-mails as soulful as my own. I used to receive ones from one special girl from Osnabruck and then she quit because I could never find time to answer properly and now feel very bad about that. Isn't it sad that we usually forget/ignore/hurt people who deserve much more than others?
I wish I was a good, altruistic kind of person. Or maybe I don't wish it honestly and all I really care about is to look in the mirror and feel good about myself and only. Don't we all want that actually? Feel good about ourselves? That's when we're happy expressing what we are or what we want to be.
I guess I need vacations. I need more time with my husband. I need the sea, and the starry night that makes you forget everything including mirrors and 27 wrinkles on one's forehead.
Last mirror and I am gone.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Becoming oneself
Yes, pregnancy is hard, but being mum is harder. Forget the sleepless nights and early morning wake ups, forget the sore nipples in the beginning that make you scream and mad at the baby, never mind changing diapers with funny consistency in them; it is also you that changes when you become mum. Your life is never going to be the same. You will never be the same (thank G-d, don't wanna be either). The self of yours will change.
Every girl dreams about marriage, rather they dream about beautiful shiny wedding, princess gown, lovely guy that looks his best that day, people who came to watch and cherish the couple... all that cliche, you know.
Last year I was the main character of that cliche thing actually.
Got married in June 2011.
It was beautiful, I admit. There were my dear friends and people who I love, respect and wished to be there. It was a tiny dreamy day. Really.
It was about time, yes, I was no toddler definitely; at my 26 I had realized I was ready to tie the knot (boy, sounds this funny!) with this good man making me melt down like Amelie. So I did.
Even in my wildest dreams I would not be having traditional (orthodox actually) Jewish wedding with loads of charedi rabbis. I used to think I was a wild flower - to be sunny, funny and witty all the way.
Now I don't think marriage did any harm to my wild flowery character. It might have even improved me in a way one does when gets married and changes its life. I told to one of my closest friends that marriage is a huge challenge and being mum - battlefield :D it is, isn't it? True values have price to pay - change yourself, fight the demons that might be your inner friends and calm yourself down when baby cries so hard you have no idea how to soothe him.
Thus, it's been a year since then and we had a baby boy in April 2012, little prePesach wonder of ours. Ezra's his name and he's got my blue greyish eyes. He smiles as seldom as his dad, very much ashkenazi indeed.
This year has been quite a year. We've had some ups and downs as everyone does. We had hard times and we overcame them; this year made my post-feminist spirit realize that I belong to someone and actually like it;
I do cook, clean, do all the housewife thing, sometimes get mad (that's all media putting pressure) that women are never appreciated as they deserve; I am becoming one of those Jewish mums always having a cake or two in the fridge.
I can't really tell you where I stand now. I do not have much time for thinking, I have to do all as fast as I can, get some sleep, be a loving wife, take care of the baby, and only then I look in the mirror and see the familiar face of that post-feminist wild flower having found her true self. Oneself.
Every girl dreams about marriage, rather they dream about beautiful shiny wedding, princess gown, lovely guy that looks his best that day, people who came to watch and cherish the couple... all that cliche, you know.
Last year I was the main character of that cliche thing actually.
Got married in June 2011.
It was beautiful, I admit. There were my dear friends and people who I love, respect and wished to be there. It was a tiny dreamy day. Really.
It was about time, yes, I was no toddler definitely; at my 26 I had realized I was ready to tie the knot (boy, sounds this funny!) with this good man making me melt down like Amelie. So I did.
Even in my wildest dreams I would not be having traditional (orthodox actually) Jewish wedding with loads of charedi rabbis. I used to think I was a wild flower - to be sunny, funny and witty all the way.
Now I don't think marriage did any harm to my wild flowery character. It might have even improved me in a way one does when gets married and changes its life. I told to one of my closest friends that marriage is a huge challenge and being mum - battlefield :D it is, isn't it? True values have price to pay - change yourself, fight the demons that might be your inner friends and calm yourself down when baby cries so hard you have no idea how to soothe him.
Thus, it's been a year since then and we had a baby boy in April 2012, little prePesach wonder of ours. Ezra's his name and he's got my blue greyish eyes. He smiles as seldom as his dad, very much ashkenazi indeed.
This year has been quite a year. We've had some ups and downs as everyone does. We had hard times and we overcame them; this year made my post-feminist spirit realize that I belong to someone and actually like it;
I do cook, clean, do all the housewife thing, sometimes get mad (that's all media putting pressure) that women are never appreciated as they deserve; I am becoming one of those Jewish mums always having a cake or two in the fridge.
I can't really tell you where I stand now. I do not have much time for thinking, I have to do all as fast as I can, get some sleep, be a loving wife, take care of the baby, and only then I look in the mirror and see the familiar face of that post-feminist wild flower having found her true self. Oneself.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
State of mind
Happiness is just a state of your mind,
Keep searching who knows what you may find...
The Spice Girls "Something Kinda Funny"
Have you ever looked at yourself from the other side and asked a question: are you happy, darling? I have.
Have you ever looked in the mirror and haven't recognized the face there? I have.
Have you ever lived somewhere and felt that you were not actually there? I have.
Have you ever loved yourself so much that almost started to hate? I have.
Have you ever danced tango at the Rio De La Plata in Buenos Aires? Me neither.
Have you ever met Salinger? I wish I had.
And this is none of those famous post-partum issues that one might have. I think I have passed all that already. It is all just Leipzig Sunday weather making it blue.
Well, thing is that I am a big fat or real slim shady or whatever mum now. I have two months old baby. I hardly sleep at nights and in the morning, which starts at 5 am, I try to be smily and happy for my baby.
G-d, is life hard!
Happiness is hard too. I mean to keep being happy is. My point is we all have dreamt about happiness not even knowing what that could have been.
Suddenly I feel so exhausted I tell myself, Sophie, just hold on, this too shall pass (not my copyright definitely), just take it easy and GROW UP! Yes, I keep telling myself to grow up and stop being this wannabe Drew Barrymore character.
I try to be calm and good. I want to be calm and good as a matter of fact. I want to be happy and satisfied with life, I want to be tuned in with the environment around me which doesn't always work. It has never worked anyway.
I was reading "Franny and Zooey" to my baby boy the other day. He did not really seemed that interested for he fell asleep soon on my chest but I kept reading and reading, feeling for Franny and later for Zooey too. Isn't it crazy that no matter what these guys are always there on my Ikea bookshelf to cherish me and stand by me? IT IS!
Keep searching, Soph. Please go on.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Since then
I decided to open up all curtains after pocketful of rain and get down to blogging. Literally. There was quite a rain today in Leipzig.
It's been more than a month I've blogged and since then our life has changed for good.
Last post was published on 2nd of April and two days later, after all that water breaking story you have seen in movies, I gave birth to a tiny baby boy at Leipzig's Uniklinikum.
So that makes me a brand new mum.
Labour is tough. Even though my delivery was so quick you wouldn't believe; it still was painful and took me several weeks to get over it. I used to have nightmares and emotional outbursts such as crying about everything and feeling very tender. Some call it babyblues, some may call it postpartum thing and I call it - Sophieish nerves.
Chronologically:
on Wednesday morning (04.04.12) when my husband and I were to go shopping after breakfast and get a buggy, I woke up with terribly swollen feet and water flowing underneath. Not usual water as we all know from the movies, but different and much less than that.
I was due 20 days later and never in my mind did I expect baby to come so early, especially two days before Pesach. Not suitable time at all while we were not done with the festival cleaning. I did not want it to happen like that, I wanted to control my body, but ironically nobody can do that even me (man, this self-confidence is killing me!).
Even at the hospital when midwife was smiling and calming me down I did not believe I would give birth so early. Even then when baby stuck out his head and I thought this would never end I still thought it was too early and I would push him back if I could. Insane. I know.
Well, baby did not think so. He definitely had his reasons to break away and spend Pesach with his parents. It was difficult, but with G-d's help we managed it. My husband did his best shlepping all the yom tov food to the hospital (for food all the credit to Emma Chandalov and Tora Zentrum von Leipzig), we had our fresh family seders there and I would say it was the best time I have ever had.
Leipzig's Uniklinikum is very recommended to everyone who thinks can handle many people and keep nice to the medical students who come in and out checking baby's and your blood pressure, smiling and being very nice all the time, almost every hour. Everyone was so friendly and smily there, you would forget you're in Germany. It did not feel very hospitalish, let me tell you, rather homely.
Now it's been almost 6 weeks we've been home and break away baby's name is Ezra, giving tribute to Avraham Ybn Ezra's father and to Ezra haSofer that's been so inspiring all the way.
What else can I say?
Being mum is so personal. Everything is very private, sometimes hard, but still very sweet.
It's been more than a month I've blogged and since then our life has changed for good.
Last post was published on 2nd of April and two days later, after all that water breaking story you have seen in movies, I gave birth to a tiny baby boy at Leipzig's Uniklinikum.
So that makes me a brand new mum.
Labour is tough. Even though my delivery was so quick you wouldn't believe; it still was painful and took me several weeks to get over it. I used to have nightmares and emotional outbursts such as crying about everything and feeling very tender. Some call it babyblues, some may call it postpartum thing and I call it - Sophieish nerves.
Chronologically:
on Wednesday morning (04.04.12) when my husband and I were to go shopping after breakfast and get a buggy, I woke up with terribly swollen feet and water flowing underneath. Not usual water as we all know from the movies, but different and much less than that.
I was due 20 days later and never in my mind did I expect baby to come so early, especially two days before Pesach. Not suitable time at all while we were not done with the festival cleaning. I did not want it to happen like that, I wanted to control my body, but ironically nobody can do that even me (man, this self-confidence is killing me!).
Even at the hospital when midwife was smiling and calming me down I did not believe I would give birth so early. Even then when baby stuck out his head and I thought this would never end I still thought it was too early and I would push him back if I could. Insane. I know.
Well, baby did not think so. He definitely had his reasons to break away and spend Pesach with his parents. It was difficult, but with G-d's help we managed it. My husband did his best shlepping all the yom tov food to the hospital (for food all the credit to Emma Chandalov and Tora Zentrum von Leipzig), we had our fresh family seders there and I would say it was the best time I have ever had.
Leipzig's Uniklinikum is very recommended to everyone who thinks can handle many people and keep nice to the medical students who come in and out checking baby's and your blood pressure, smiling and being very nice all the time, almost every hour. Everyone was so friendly and smily there, you would forget you're in Germany. It did not feel very hospitalish, let me tell you, rather homely.
Now it's been almost 6 weeks we've been home and break away baby's name is Ezra, giving tribute to Avraham Ybn Ezra's father and to Ezra haSofer that's been so inspiring all the way.
What else can I say?
Being mum is so personal. Everything is very private, sometimes hard, but still very sweet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)