From the road

From the road

 

 

I thought I am never gonna do this post, ok maybe not ever but for sure not on this trip. Downloading photos, making a selection, editing them, uploading and most of all writing at least short text requires certain amount of concentration. I know it is not a work of nuclear physician but its a work that has to be done somewhere between 22:30 and 24:00 when I am still partly conscious.

OK this trip definitely does not belong to the easiest ones that we’ve done so far. At this point I could actually swore it is the toughest one. I know that once we’r back home and bad memories fade out to the point that they actually disappear and I will not recall them anymore I will be sentimentally coming back in my mind to places we’ve been and things we have done. Some of them might even be nominated to “the best of” and we’ll be laughing at situations that will have lost their sharp contures. But for now I am at this melting pot, inside of it, inside of this “supercamper” situation and I see things as they are, fresh and crisp.

We have been traveling with camper before. Our first trip with Sven was an adventure of three without any plan whatsoever, without any clue what we want and what we don’t want. Sven was fully loaded with alcohol and we were loaded with expectations. We were making decision on the road and those decisions made us drive poor old Sven all the way to north of Norway for no other reason besides the one of getting there. We spent most of the days driving hundreds of kilometres at highest speed of 80km per hour. We slept on parking lots by the road and by the time we got back down to Helsinki we were dead tired and from the constant driving I had a feeling that I am shaking inside even after week at home. I knew I never want to do it again.

But than one year later we got married and decided to spend our honeymoon – HOW? – driving poor old Sven through France and Spain. I always thought nothing can beat that trip when it comes to number of cathasthropies that can happen in such a short period of time. Everything that was possible went wrong. It all started with Sven breaking after first 200 km in Austria and by the middle of our trip we were driving a camper with broken fridge, not working gas stove, without air-condition. Driving whole days with opened windows, not talking to each other as it was really loud in the cabin, we were taking pain killers every evening which in combination with alcohol helped us forget about those terrible headaches from noise and air draught. Main goal of our days was to drive hundreds of kilometres in search of one free spot on the overcrowded campsites. We were lucky when we finally ended up sleeping parked by the toilets or showers as free camping in that part of Europe is strongly restricted. When we came home I was sure our marriage can overcome ABSOULTELLY EVERYTHING. Well almost everything….

Can somebody tell me why we did it again? This time not even with our beloved old Sven but some anonymous, ugly rented camper in combination with little crawling baby and the great idea of spending 5 weeks of beautiful summer on the road again. This time we can’t even get drunk in the evenings. And even if we could we would not have enough power to do it.

We got divorced at least 3 times a day during first week, and 5 times a day during second week. Mr. B suggested to throw us all out of the camper and drive down from a mountain, buy us an airplane ticket around the world and do the rest of the trip alone, leave me the camper and actually everything he owns and go hitchhiking around the world and I was thinking about regulated gas explosion that would catapult us on a trip in cosmos. Little L decide to sabotage this whole traveling idea and for the first time was giving us hard time while driving. Making even 80 km distance per day was a victory worth mexican wave. He started teething, but this time I am worried he is getting at least 24 teeth at the same time. Mr.T is so sick of us that he came to a logic conclusion that HE himself is his only boss. I personally don’t share the same idea and that means we find ourselves conflicting interests very often. I need him to go right but he ONLY goes left. When it happened for the first time I was worried that he lost his hearing due to his age, but this little smart ass simply decided he needs a break from this crazy family.

Our camper became an authentic kingdom of anarchy. We have broken all the possible rules, and I am happy we did not get to meet any police till now. There is NO WAY to keep things in place, clean and logically sorted for longer than 5 minutes. I am in constant search of socks, shoes, pacifiers, dentinox, clean cups, wallet and everything else. My brain is washed from listening to same baby songs over and over again and I have stopped cleaning floor in the camper. But we are still together in this car, neither of us has contacted a lawyer yet, it looks like we even love each other, little L loves to do “baran baran buc” everything, starting with his toys, table, my feet, window, plates, cups and the trip goes on….

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Myślałam, że już nigdy nie napiszę tego tekstu, ok, może nie nigdy, ale na pewno nie na tym wyjeździe. Przegrywanie zdjęć, wybieranie ich, obróbka, wstawianie na stronę, a przede wszystkim napisanie chociaż kilku zdań, wymaga odpowiedniej koncentracji. Wiem, że to nie praca fizyka jądrowego, ale muszę wykonać to zadanie gdzieś pomiędzy 22:30, a 24:00, kiedy nadal jestem choć trochę przytomna. OK, ta podróż na pewno nie należy do najłatwiejszych, jakie do tej pory odbyliśmy. W tym momencie mogłabym nawet przysiąc, że należy do najtrudniejszych. Wiem, że kiedy wrócimy do domu i złe wspomnienia wyblakną tak bardzo, że właściwie znikną, to nie będę już o nich pamiętać i zacznę wracać uczuciami oraz pamięcią do miejsc, w których się zatrzymaliśmy i rzeczy, które robiliśmy. Niektóre z nich trafią do zakładki “najlepsze” i będziemy śmiać się z sytuacji, które z czasem zatracą swoje ostre kontury. Ale teraz siedzę w tym tyglu, w samym jego środku i środku tej całej, „superkamperowej” sytuacji. Widzę rzeczy w ich prawdziwej postaci, kiedy są jeszcze świeże i kruche. Nie jest to nasza pierwsza podróż kamperem.

Pierwsza wycieczka ze Svenem była trzyosobową przygodą, bez jakiegokolwiek planu, ani pojęcia na to, czego chcemy, a czego nie chcemy. Sven był przeładowany alkoholem, a my oczekiwaniami. Podejmowaliśmy decyzje w czasie jazdy i to one sprawiły, że dojechaliśmy biednym, starym Svenem aż do północnej Norwegii, bez żadnego innego powodu, jak tylko, żeby tam się dostać. Większość dni spędziliśmy jeżdżąc setki kilometrów, z największą prędkością 80 km na godzinę. Spaliśmy na przydrożnych parkingach, a kiedy dojechaliśmy do Helsinek byliśmy śmiertelnie zmęczeni. Od ciągłej jazdy czułam, że trzęsę się w środku, nawet po tygodniu od powrotu. Wiedziałam, że już nigdy nie chcę tego powtórzyć.

Ale rok później wzięliśmy ślub i postanowiliśmy spędzić nasz miesiąc miodowy – JAK? – jeżdżąc biednym, starym Svenem po Francji i Hiszpanii. Zawsze myślałam, że nic nie pobije tej podróży pod względem ilości katastrof, które mogą przydarzyć się w tak krótkim czasie. Wszystko, co tylko możliwe, poszło nie tak. Zaczęło się od tego, że Sven zepsuł się w Austrii, po 200 kilometrach, więc od połowy naszej podróży nie mieliśmy działającej lodówki, ani kuchenki gazowej, ani nawet klimatyzacji. Jechaliśmy całe dnie z otwartymi oknami, nie rozmawiając ze sobą, ponieważ w kabinie było za głośno, a każdego wieczora braliśmy środki przeciwbólowe, które w połączeniu z alkoholem pozwalały nam zapomnieć o potwornych bólach głowy, wywołanych hałasem i przeciągiem. Naszym głównym celem, przez większość dni, było przejechanie setek kilometrów w poszukiwaniu miejsca na zatłoczonych kempingach. Mieliśmy szczęście, jeśli udawało nam się zaparkować gdzieś przy ubikacjach i prysznicach, bo, w tej części Europy, rozbijanie się na dziko jest surowo zabronione. Kiedy wróciliśmy do domu byłam pewna, że nasze małżeństwo może udźwignąć ABSOLUTNIE WSZYSTKO. Przynajmniej prawie wszystko….

Czy ktoś może mi powiedzieć dlaczego znowu to zrobiliśmy? Tym razem nie wzięliśmy nawet naszego ukochanego, starego Svena, ale jakiegoś anonimowego, brzydkiego kampera z wypożyczalni, do którego dorzuciliśmy małe, raczkujące dziecko oraz pomysł na spędzenie 5, pięknych tygodni lata, w drodze. Tym razem, nie możemy się nawet upić. A nawet gdybyśmy mogli, to nie mamy na to wystarczająco dużo siły. Groziliśmy sobie rozwodem przynajmniej 3 razy dziennie, podczas pierwszego tygodnia i 5 razy dziennie, podczas tego drugiego. Pan B. zasugerował, że wyrzuci nas wszystkich z kampera i zjedzie w przepaść, kupi nam bilet dookoła świata i dokończy podróż sam, zostawi mi kampera i wszystko, co posiada, a sam wyruszy autostopem dookoła świata, a ja w tym czasie planowałam wybuch gazu, który wystrzeli nas w kosmos. Mały L. postanowił sabotować cały ten pomysł z podróżowaniem i po raz pierwszy przysparzał nam kłopotów w czasie jazdy. Sprawiło to, że przejechanie nawet 80 kilometrów było tak wielkim sukcesem godnym fali meksykańskiej. Zaczął ząbkować, ale tym razem boję się, że rosną mu co najmniej 24 zęby naraz. Pan T. ma nas tak dosyć, że doszedł do logicznego wniosku, że tylko ON jest swoim panem. Ja osobiście nie podzielam tego pomysłu, co oznacza, że bardzo często dochodzi pomiędzy nami do konfliktu interesów. Kiedy chcę, żeby szedł w prawo, on idzie TYLKO w lewo. Za pierwszym razem przestraszyłam się, że traci słuch z powodu swojego wieku, ale ten mały spryciarz po prostu zdecydował, że potrzebuje przerwy od swojej zwariowanej rodziny.

Nasz kamper stał się prawdziwym, anarchistycznym królestwem. Złamaliśmy wszystkie możliwe zasady i cieszę się, że jak dotąd nie spotkaliśmy jeszcze na naszej drodze policji. NIE DA SIĘ utrzymać rzeczy na swoim miejscu, czystych i poukładanych, na dłużej niż 5 minut. Nieustannie szukam skarpetek, butów, smoczków, żelu do dziąseł, czystych kubeczków, portfela i wszystkiego innego. Mój mózg jest wyprany od słuchania w kółko tych samych piosenek dla dzieci i nawet przestałam myć podłogę w kamperze. Ale nadal jesteśmy razem w tym samochodzie, żadne z nas nie zadzwoniło jeszcze do prawnika, wygląda na to, że nawet się kochamy. Mały L. uwielbia robić „baran baran buc” ze wszystkim, co napotka zaczynając od zabawek, stołu, moich stóp, okien, talerzy, kubeczków, a podróż nadal trwa…

 

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Teething, self doubts and the rest

Teething, self doubts and the rest

 

 

I wanted to write this post for so long. I have tried to find the moment so many times and meanwhile the ideas passed by, the topics I wanted to talk about came and went, stopped to be accurate or just got forgotten. I was trying to hold on to my life really badly for past two months.

Before Little L was born I was sure that first weeksor months are the toughest of all. If we make it through first 3 months without any major loss on sanity we ‘r safe. And than things are only gonna get easier up to the point where it will be like eating bread with honey. OH my, how I was wrong. Last month and a half was really hard. We came back from Malta to Warsaw where we stayed exactly for one day. Half of it I was waiting for my lost suitcase and second half was unpacking and packing again. In the night we hit the road and drove to Klodzko to stay for couple of days, than we moved to Dusseldorf where my sister lives. Little L, Mr.T and I stayed there for 3 weeks while Mr.B was flying to work. Short trip to Amsterdam and than on the way to Slovakia we stopped at Klodzko again, stayed in Kraliky drove to Vienna came back to Kraliky. I feel like my whole life is packed in suitcases and all I do is unpack and pack. And during this whole time Little L was teething.

I thought first three months are the toughest, oh my how I was wrong. First three months were not easy for many reasons, I was not feeling well physically, my hormones were going crazy, Little L did not know what the hell is going on, he was shocked from where he landed, but I have to say he was coping with us – two strangers – his parents for rest of his live pretty well. Everything was new for him and for us. But that was nothing compared to teething phase. Teething means that Little man does not like anything for longer than 5 minutes, OK he likes to watch baby einstein puppets for about 30 minutes when he has a good day, scream like a hurt animal for quite some time every day but what he loves most of all is my breast, all day and all night. It also means that I carry his proud 12 kilos in carrier most of the days, we cook together, iron together, vacuum together, walk together, take photos together and that might be a lot of fun for him, but don’t ask me about my back. He started to move a lot lately as well so I can’t practically leave him out of my sight cause he is able to change his location quickly and without any prior notice.

Lately I’ve been hearing a lot from older women – older women meaning my mom and her generation of mothers – that we are raising him wrong. That it is wrong that he is used to being carried, that he sleeps with us in one bed and that he is vegan just as we are. And I have been going through a lot of self doubts. How does one know if she is a good mother ?

During my last month of pregnancy when I grew into monstrous proportions, I was all swollen and could hardly move and breath at the same time I had a lot qualms that I don’t work enough. Mr.B used to tell me all the time that I should not worry about it, because women have some magic ability and they manage to do much more after they give birth. Well I was waiting for that moment, imagining myself as a super woman who gets as extra a package of super powers during the delivery and does everything she was doing before plus much more with a baby stuck under her arm. And guess what I was terribly terribly wrong. I am not a super women, I am not a super wife and I am probably not a super mother even thought I try to be at least one of it at a time.
Little L is almost eight months old and there are still days when I am happy to find time for a shower, days that are better, days that are worse. But I am by far not doing what I was doing before and more. I am not drawing and I miss it intensely. I am not doing all those new things that I was expecting to do. No explosion of energy, no explosion of new ideas, no super powers. I did not sleep through one whole night since Little man was born, actually I have not slept longer than 3 hours for eight months. I am often tired and I have a lot of self doubts. I compare myself to other women and sometimes I even compare Leo to other babies and I hate that. But I kind of feel like I failed, like I disappointed somebody, don’t know exactly whom, but when it comes to the point it does not matter. I simply feel like a looser almost every evening when I go to bed and look back at my day.
I thought when baby is eight months I simply put her to some “safe area” – whatever that is – and she is gonna play by herself for hours, than eat and sleep and I can start doing my things. OK I really knew shit about babies until we made one. There is no such as safe area unless I don’t want to put Little L into some cage. He also does not play by himself for hours and he has two very short naps a day, if he has a good day :).
So I really really wander how those super women out there do it. What is the secret of their time management. How come they look great, feel great, they go to gym, take care of a baby, work and in the evening when their little treasures fall asleep they feel sexy enough to seduce their men and whats more they even have enough energy to have a wild sex. And they have my respect if they manage just half of it.

I’m not joking here. I really am in a HUGE self doubts phase. But at the same time I am as happy as I never was before. I am happy at night when I feel his hands reaching for me in the dark and his face with closed eyes trying to find my breast – for the 5th time in three hours – looking for comfort. When I see him calming down and falling back to sleep while he nurses and while I am lying in a terrible inhuman position just not to wake him up again.

I feel happiness that can not be described when he looks at me and smiles looking already so aware of word around him. When his eyes search for me in the room after he looses me from sight. When he laughs and giggles laud on my attempts to be funny.

When he hugs me and snuggles his head somewhere between my breast and arm as if he wanted to be a part of my body for a while again. When I see him being curious and so eager to be discovering and learning. When he explores my face with his hand and always finishes with squeezing my nose for five minutes.

I love that he gives me a chance to have a look at the world that already got usual for me. I feel like blind who was given new eyes. I love his facial expressions when he experiences something new, when he feels new tastes, when he hears weird sounds, I love how his emotions are so pure and intense. I loved his toothless smile and now I love those two tiny teeth sticking out and even those two new upper monsters that are giving him such a hard time. Its a bitter sweet feeling to watch him grow and change every single day, but what it brings along is overwhelming.

I remember my mother always using a phrase “U will understand THIS only once you have a child of your own” which I of course hated from the bottom of my heart. Oh my, how right she was. Only now through him I can understand what is fear, what is happiness, what is humbleness, what is unconditional love. Becoming a mother is such valuable thing, it changes the perception of the world, it is a chance to be reborn and it is definitely a source of extreme emotions. So I guess self doubts are simply part of the journey and I have to learn how to live with them.

 

 

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moving pictures from Malta

moving pictures from Malta

 
Long awaited video from Malta. Its been already two months since we came back, but time is no longer a comprehensible quantity :)

I believe, ok I am almost sure a new post with photos will follow anytime soon :)

 

 

Leo and Malta from Bart Pogoda on Vimeo.

 

 

Pictures hunting in Malta

Pictures hunting in Malta

  

Our trip to  Malta was full of strong emotions.  It was first time for Little L to travel by plane, which was not as bad as I have worried.  In Malta his first two teeth came out and that was connected with A LOT of crying. We did not have even one meal where Bart and me would sit at the table at the same time. There always had to be one of us walking around with the pushchair trying to calm him down. I was feeling sorry for our room neighbours, as I can still very well remember how I did not have much understanding with babies crying in my “before Little L life”.

But there were also fun times, short moments when Little man forgot his teeth were growing. Moments of shock when he found himself surrounded by unimaginable amount of water in the swimming pool, which made an impression on him for 15 minutes and than he reminded himself those two teeth in his mouth and forgot the rest. Moments when he was overwhelmed by palm trees moving in wind, kids playing in swimming pool, or his newly acquired ability to sit by himself .

There were also couple of uninterrupted minutes when he fell asleep outside either in pushchair or in carrier, whichever he preferred :). And in those treasured priceless minutes of quiet we were hunting for the light and photos with Mr.B. Light in Malta was amazing and the place itself was quite a surprise. I’ve experienced loads of very powerful flashbacks while walking around. I felt as if I was in Tunisia, France, Italy, Israel, England at times even in Japan. Loads of amazing old shop signs, abandoned houses, mixed architecture, nice beaches, impressive buildings with touch of great details and everything within 20 minutes drive. It definitely is a place worth to go back and explore more.

I think Little L changed me in a massive way, I become partly a new person and there is no turning back to who I was before. I became much more emotional, I treasure  our love with  Mr.B and life we have together much more, I value every day events more and I cry way to often :). I cried a river when Mr.B left from Malta after one week. I cried a lot when there was small boy with two teeth sitting next to me in the airplane on the way back and I realised how much two weeks mean in Little L’s life, I cried when I said good bye to my mom on the airport in Vienna knowing last time I spent one week holidays with her was almost 20 years ago. And I have to say I enjoy this new emotional crying me. It seems as if my life was more vivid and more fulfilled….not to mention that I did not have 50 photos post in a long time :)

  

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hello Berlin good bye Flat head

hello Berlin good bye Flat head

  

When Little L was born I could not see him during the first moments. Mr.B however was there to give me a sign if everything is OK and looks OK. The very first thing he told me with tears in his eyes was:”He does not have a flat head.” Even in such stressful situation I thought it was a very funny statement even more so because it was not meant to be funny, it actually was very serious. I remember how we were warned couple of times not to be worried when we see our baby for the first time as babies have really strange shapes of heads after the birth. But Mr.B knew that I have FLAT HEAD paranoia and he knew it was so strong that he even forgot that babies are normally not born with flat heads :).
Oh yes I had terrible paranoia of flat headed Leo possibility. This fear developed to its maximum actually in Poland. When we first met with Mr.B he had his hat on. The second time we met I was too drunk to notice that he had a really really flat head. At the point I discovered he is flat headed I found him to interesting and there was no step back :). But I truly like nice shapes of heads, and I like them even more now as they are really scarce commodities in Poland. Actually I have never ever seen so many flat heads as I see when I am walking streets of Warszaw. I don’t know where this comes from but its a fact. At one point I started doubting my own opinion but I was reassured that I am right when my sister came over. I did not tell her anything, I was just waiting. And it came. After couple of days she told me if I have ever realised how many flat headed men there is around. Mr.B know very well my flat head issues. He even asked a hairdresser once about a hairdo that would camouflage his head and the hairdresser told him he has a lot of men asking for the same thing :). So when Little L arrived we were only letting him sleep on the side. We were changing the sides of course and I was happy he had a really nice shape of head up to his two months. But than things started to change. No matter what I did he always ended up sleeping on his back, and his head was slowly becoming flat. Until one day when I looked at him from the side and realised that the situation is alarming and his had is as flat as polish landscape. I knew something had to be done. I goggled about flat heads on slovak sites and the only information I could find was “let it be, it will change as he gets older”. What a bullshit! Typical slovak, let it be and wait until things get done by themselves. Slovaks are truly very passive nation deep inside. Than Mr.B googled about flat heads on polish web and there was the solution. NO let it be, NO wait until it gets better but act and act now. This way we found out about cranio therapy which is a treatment of head deformities. Known in the world apart from Slovakia. We knew we have to do it so that Little L would never have to think about hairdos to make his head look good. We went to Berlin to cranioform clinic where they measured L’s head and suggested us to undertake helmet therapy for approximately next 4 months. I was not even aware of what kind of deformities of heads there are and how they influence facial and oral development of babies. Knowing what I know now I find statement wait until it gets better with age punishable. It would only get worse with time. And I was very happy to see how many parents with babies from different countries there were every day. Anyway we were leaving Berlin with a nice craniohelmet on Little L’s head /which stopped bothering him in two days if you wonder/ and some new plans for the future. New fresh place brought us some new fresh ideas. But I’ll keep those to myself until I’m not sure it will turn out the way we plan it. PS: And for those who think we are harming Little L to make him look good and we are some weird parents please note that flat headness – Plagiocephaly is a osteophatic condition characterized by an asymmetrical distortion of skull and can lead to problematic development of face, jaw bones and other oral problems. PS2: Those of you who might be interested there is a blog in polish on this topic and as far as I know there is as well place in Poland I guess in Krakow where they do helmet therapy as well. We decided to do it in Berlin because we wanted to visit Berlin, meet my sister who lives in Germany and because we thought they have much more experiences when it comes to therapy. PS3:Forum in polish
hello Berlin

  

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it took me 3 days to writ this post :)

it took me 3 days to writ this post :)

  

It is really difficult to write a decent blog post when having 4 months old person living with you, well at least for me it is. I know there are some super women out there who can handle it all but I have to officially admit I am not one of them.

First of all there is the well known not interesting “I have NO time” reason, everybody knows about IT, I knew about it before giving birth, well at least I thought I knew. And I was sure I will be able to manage without any problems, but THE reality exceeded my expectations. I really really have no time. 90% of my day I am a full time servant to his majesty Little L and the rest 10% is the time that I’d would like to spend spoiling myself by such a fancy treat as shower, maybe even drying my hair with hairdryer – what a luxury – or just a simple sitting staring to nowhere and doing nothing. But the list of to do’s is way to long and 10% is 10%. I have to set some priorities and writing a blog post is sadly not one of them. OK don’t get me wrong I am NOT complaining I am simply stating the facts here. But even when impossible happens like it did tonight and Little L, who seems to think that sleep deprived mama is FUN mama, goes to sleep at reasonable hour leaving me confused and lost with my laptop, I have a problem…WHAT should I write about. If I don’t want to bother you with small milestones of Little L’s everyday life than I would have to talk about my achievements in my own game called winning on dogs shit battlefield which basically means trying to step into least possible dog’s shit during our everyday walks in Skaryszewski.

But who would care about that? I can not turn this blog into “what I wore today” kind of blog because all you would look at would be photos of me wrapped around some blooming tree in the same sweatpants most of the week, and that is not a true fashionista style :).

I also can not run a food porn blog. I see myself standing in my pyjama with spots from leaking milk on my breast, here and there fresh traces of Little L stomach content, using only one hand to eat really quick while rocking Little guy who is sitting content in his chair, content unless the chair is rocked by me of course even though he can rock himself pretty well. Having a nice breakfast small talk with Mr.B is a story from different reality…But we did have a dinner together the other day, in the bathroom, Mr.B standing me sitting next to the bathtub eating soup that was not even warm enough watching Little L enjoying his evening bath…I do cook from time to time, and the food is even tasty but to upgrade this fact to a keystone on which food porn blog could be built is impossible as it is simply missing that final touch…so what else can a woman who is full time mother to her FIRST baby write about…/FIRST is in capitals because I do believe that by some miracle everything gets easier with the second one/.

I could write about Little L’s achievements, but as he is in his teething period the biggest achievement is one uninterrupted hour of sleep during day. I remember reading somewhere in some smart ass article that good mothers know why their babies cry. What a bullshit! Or maybe I am not a good mother. Anyhow there are times when he screams so much that he is all purple short of breath and I am worried he is gonna faint, but even if I try to be the best mother I can, I really have no clue what is his problem. There are common symptoms for teething, for stomachache but what if your baby does not show any of those and still cries like insane and than suddenly out of a blue something happens and its quiet followed by huge smile from ear to ear. I wonder who writes that kind of articles and how are they supposed to help to anyone.

Good mother – what does that mean anyway. When I was pregnant and complaining that I feel as if my belly was a public property I was warned that what comes after the baby is born is even worse. People telling you what to do and how to do it and by people was not meant the closest family but complete strangers that don’t know you at all. That was something I could not imagine and I thought it must be some kind of bad urban legend, but guess what IT IS NOT. This shit happens for real and I am amazed how it is even possible that somebody who has never ever talked to you can judge you as parent. How does that happen that some people are convinced that they can comment on other people’s lives. I don’t want to sound pissed or frustrated by writing this because I am not and by far I don’t even want to sound like I am defending myself because thats again something I don’t need to do. I just want to say that I hate judgements and monothematism.

So to make things clear to those who are having concerns about Little L’s health or wellbeing. We take Little L for walks in his trolley  in a sling or a carrier. He loves the trolley and he loves carrier but he is not a fun of slings, and I love what makes HIM happy. Sometimes when I carry him for hours around the house I am happy my back can rest a little and we go for a walk with the trolley. Or I want to take photos and hanging a camera on your neck when there is a baby is quite impossible. There are times when he spends half a day in carrier because thats what we both want to do that particular day. I don’t understand almost surreal obsessions of some mamas over how to carry a baby. Common ladies take it easy. Our mothers raised 90% of our generation in the trolleys  that were archaic compared to what we have now and it does not seem to have damaged us for life or everybody’s family relationships. There are women out there who are on wheel chairs, women with back problems, women with other issues that bring some restrictions on the way they carry their babies but that sure does not categorise them to be bad or non carrying mothers. Women tend to become somehow militant when it comes to kids raising questions and that is freaky dangerous. Easy going mothers raise easy going people and easy going people are nice to be around.

…………….and some long forgotten photos from Vienna……….

 

  

  

moving pictures from Primorje

  

and little video from our trip….enjoy your sunday

  

  
Primorje from Bart Pogoda on Vimeo.
 camera, edit, colors – Silvia & Bart Pogoda
music Pink Martini – Anna (el negro zumbon)
www.bartpogoda.net
www.silviapogoda.com

  

Milky bar crisis in Piran

Milky bar crisis in Piran

  

During last months of my pregnancy when I looked like a whale abandoned on the shore by greenpeace I was dreaming, dreaming, dreaming about going for a road trip somewhere as soon as I could fit into the car seat. Mr.B and I planned all sorts of possible scenarios. Of course we knew there will be one more person with us, but we had no clue. Logically if parents love to travel the kid HAS to love it just as much.

Out of all the options we were thinking about, road trip to Brittany won. It is not that far, it has an atmosphere and there was a great house on airbnb to rent. I could see all the photos we would take, I could see Mr.T playing with a ball on the beach the only thing I could not imagine was Little L, but I was sure he will do fine. We planned to spend whole february traveling around north cost of France. That was until Little man did not enter our world. Yes we took him for 9 hours drive when he was three weeks old, and than again seven hours when he was six weeks old. I wont say it all went without problems. He made it quite well in the car, but he sure was confused when changing places. Than we drove to Vienna for couple of days and back to Slovakia and Little L was responding better to the changes of enviroment. But we still could not imagine taking him for 20 hours car trip….and so even though we love to travel and he sure loves to travel just as much we quit our idea and started looking for easier options.

First idea was Venice, there is always a good time to go to Venice…..well maybe not when you have a stroller to get around with and its carneval time. And so there was only one possible place left….Piran. We ve been there before and we knew it is always good time to go to Piran :). I could remember how much we walked, chilled, read books and how much I was drawing last time we took couple of days of and drove there from Vienna. It really seemd to be crazy close…almost not long enough for propper conversation and there was even possibility to survive being vegan and eating in restaurants.

So I packed my book, my sketchbook and we were ready to hit to road. Little L did well….he slept most of the time probably did not even realize we made a roundabout and stopped for one night in Plitvice in Croatia. That was supposed to be something new for us, so we would not only repeat what we have done before. And it was also our first big fail traveling with a baby. Plan was to sleep three nights close to Plitvice national park and show Little L a little bit of beauty of the nature. BUT the park was only partially opened, which actually meant 90% was closed – something they forgot to inform about on the web page – which did not stop the lady at the counter to ask us to pay for the full ticket. She offerd us to buy the tickets so that we could get to the place from where we can have a look at the road we would be taking if the park was opened. This information made Mr.B very depressed, he took it personaly and was fighting with his own dissapointment and professional traveler ego. And so we packed everything what we unloaded the evening and hit the road to Slovenia.

Piran was cool as always, no bad surprises, no problems, easy going place where you know exactly what you ll get…but this time we experienced it differently. I unpacked my book, my sketchbook and my computer and that was actually the only time I touched them….Little L enjoyed sleeping in the stroller while we were discovering Isola, Strunjan or Portoroz…but he sure did not enjoyed sleeping in the night. The aircon in the room that served as heating was killing him. He litteraly slept on my tits, like a true hedonist…every hour having a little drink and falling asleep again…Nights became my nightmares for the first time in his short life. But appart from our sleep deprivation we had a really really good time, eating great food, walking at least 10 km per day, taking photos, enjoing ourselves in our new situation ….On Valentines day I reminded myself how I freaked out exactly one year ago when I took a pregancy test in Japan. It was something I could not imagine, and I did not even want to. We were in Japan, traveling around, planing what we ll do in sommer, we had no responsiblity for anyone, we were free and we liked it. And there was this strange writing telling me it is actually already three of us. I freaked out so much that the first thing I did was that I smoked two cigarettes in a row. This year on the same day I pushed the stroller with sleeping Little L the muddy road of Strunjan national park…I could breath without any problems, I did not smell like an ash tray and I was happy. I am my biggest surprise :)

Now we r ready to unpack, wash the clothes, pack again and take Little L for a next trip to Klodzko and than one week later take him to the place which is his home but he does not know about it, because last time he left it he was just a small blind veggie…now he is a 8 kilo little man :)

Warning: If u dont feel like looking at loads of photos of two cuties Little L and Mr.T dont scroll down! But hell even though Little L is tought subject to photograph as he lays on his back most of the time, its nice to shoot somebody else not just Mr.B’s back for a change :)

  

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home is wherever I am home

home is wherever I am home

 
 

Last week we went for a short trip – “vacation” to Mazury. We would love to make a longer trip to some more exciting destination but even those 3 hours in the car were not the most pleasant experience of my life. For some time now we were trying to find sort of an “escape” place not far from Warsaw, where we could easy drive (not for 6 hours) to spend couple of days. A place that would fulfill our – I don’t think hight – expectations, which means privacy, nice surroundings, lake or river, apartment with kitchen, not to many people which in reality means from 2 to 0 :), and of course place that does not look like stuck in 90’s super polish design mode. We were not very lucky so last year we to do a trip to Mazury with our beloved Sven….And that truly was something! We came back after 4 days and 3 nights, exhausted, pissed and in a really really bad mood, but that is a separate story. This year I somehow accidentally came across place Masuria Arte and we were sure that is the place. And IT WAS THE PLACE. Everything was perfect. Private lake, loads and loads of space around for walking, only three apartments which meant very few people, nice design, small veggie garden….ideal. BUT that ‘s it. Driving to get there was terrifying – well for me. Before each time when I came to Poland I sort of was taking things easy here, or at least I was trying to (when I forget about our robbed flat and some drunk sick bastard beating me up on the street). Polish adventure was always just an adventure for limited amount of time. I knew I was coming to Poland just for a period of time and I knew I was going back to Vienna. unconsciously this fact was sitting there in the back of my mind and was letting me take things easy. Easy in the sense that I was just overlooking them, taking them as part of “adventure” in this “exotic” country. This year things changed, and they changed a LOT. I know now that I am not packing myself by the end of september and I am not going back to Vienna. I know I am staying here, and next year, and next and next…..This is now the country that I am going to live (if some sort of miracle does not happen and we will not get an offer of well payed jobs somewhere else), the country that is supposed to become my home. And this fact scared the shit out of me in such a way that it even surprised me. And yes, I realized that drive to and back from Mazury. I was thinking if I should write this post at all and not just skip it post the photos without any comment. I hate to cumulate negative energy, as there is enough of it around anyway…and making statement in the virtual space is even more tricky, as people tend to take things more personally and have less distance. But I just have to get it all out no matter how many of those who will read it will think I am a sucker. Whatever you might think, Poland is one of the visually most depressive places I know. Driving through Lomza gave me one of the most creepiest feelings, almost claustrophobic, as if I was closed in a small dark room without air and possibility to get out. That is probably because I realized that these kind of views are my reality now. Since I came here in July I was more or less closed at home or walking around in Saska Kepa. I did have a strange feeling of some sort of agression among people that was kind of hidden under the surface but you could just sense it almost everywhere. Kind of tension, people are not nice to each other, they give u bad looks, they are pissed about something most of the time, talk together in a very provocative way and explode easily. Yes I did feel that around and even tried to explain it to Mr.B who I think is so used to it that he does not see it anymore. But visually I was in a bubble, disturbed by amount of broken glass from bottles along Wisla, or trash that people for some strange reason put in the car and drive it to the wood to drop it. But it still was a bubble. As soon as we left central parts of Warszaw and drove through the outskirts and small towns the bubble just deflated like a truck tire and I was staring around me in shock. What happened in this place should be punished. I remember having a separate post on my blog about how much I love and admire polish poster design. But that is a past….polish design is past. What happened to that craftmanship and mastery of using types, of lettering, of working with colors and space? Where did it all go? Who let this dehonesting situation to go so far. Enormous amount of posters, advertisings, billboards create a separate space within a space. They cover everything that can be covered,using the most awful fonts, and colors and shadings and photos, there is no creativity it is just a plain horror that attacks your sight and gives you headache. Your eyes have no place where they could stop for a minute to rest, it is one attack after another. Billboards covering buildings that have nothing to do with architecture and in between there are these huge gypsum statues of horses, bulls, spiderman, buffalos and I don’t know what else sticking out as some kind of proud figurative masterpieces, together with plastic palms covered in dust. It looks like if somebody delibrately decided to screw up everything that can be screwed. There is zero feeling for any kind of aesthetics, zero feeling for the nature, for combining architecture with the actual space, zero respect for the country and for the people as well. Driving couple of hours through places like this surely must provoke agression. There is no other way. It is like turning on TV and switching the channels really fast for 3 hours, your eyes and brain get so exhausted and besotted that you start to be really nervous and easy irritable which is only one step away from either depression or agression. Now I can say that I really admire people who live here and are still able to create any kind of beauty whatsoever, who remain positive and creative, because I was not positive at all, and even less creative as we arrived to our place, where we literally locked ourselves for one week without any attempts to drive around and discover. I am not gonna try to make this sound any better than I mean it. It really is horrible and something should be done to stop this ridiculous and punishable devastation of the country. And instead of people start being sensitive on it, and start seeing those things trying to change them they get to read even more ridiculous article in one of the most opininon-forming newspaper. An american writer Jenn Pelly visits Poland for music festival and writes and article about it. Besides all the positive reactions to the music scene itself she is so “impertinent” to write also something negative about the place itself. AND SO WHAT. She was right. How come people are only able to accept the glory but reject completely critic? The fact that anonymous readers, frustrated haters and dickheads were insulting her on internet is nothing unexpected or new, but that the text in Gazeta Wybiorcza with master title “Ratunku, naszych bija!” was a true shame. Whoever wrote it probably does not read well in english, does not see, or has some other problem with accepting reality. But the polish reality will not change unless people will not be able to be critical about themselves and have a bit of fucking distance. OK that is about all I wanted to say :) ….. I am not Jenn Pelly and I am not writing an article for american paper….I am coming from postcomuinst country as well …. from country that is FAR away from being perfect in any way just as other countries I know. But that does not mean I can not have an opinion on Poland and that this opinion can even be negative in some aspects. And now I am gonna take Mr.T for “fakir” walk by Wisla and think about black storks……

  

 

please hold the line

please hold the line

  

Ok this being pregnant thing is getting more and more serious each day….I was kind of lucky avoiding all the horrible scary pregnancy symptoms and was hoping for Mr.Little to stay inside at least for half a year longer…..It took only two weeks to change my mind…NOW I’m hoping for him to get out as soon as possible (of course as long as he is well, healthy and happy ). Last week I started to have a small pain in my tooth, by the afternoon it was a bigger pain in my tooth so we googled closest dentist to our place and went….after not very professional treatment I ended up in emergency at night with huge pain in my tooth….they did what could be done at the moment and advised me to my dentist next day :)….so a search for “my dentist” begun….and I ended up at third dentist in two days with a huge pain in two of my teeth…yesterday I went to see my dentist again with third tooth and this thing does not seem to be ending any time soon…It is getting worse and worse…my teeth treatment will last until Mr.Little is born and most probably long after he is born. As I am not taking pain killers I’m really not happy about this situation, actually I was very unhappy yesterday…SO unhappy that I cried from pain for half an hour without stopping…and such thing has not happened to me since my childhood probably. SO yes the scary pregnancy symptoms got me as well…and I am not talking about sleepless nights when I can’t change my position because I fell like a huge bug fallen on the back chaotically waving my four limbs in the air…the most awkward, clumsy way of walking which makes me look as half paralyzed whale in the circus and never ending sweating day and night….My body is no longer ME or MINE … it is occupied by this little man who is moving around almost non stop…turning my belly into some horror like looking mass changing shape and size…this little guy who is simply adjusting everything to his needs…and I am like a big cabinet with small head, legs, hands and huge ass walking around waiting for him to open the door and step out to our lives….In the mean time I ‘m trying to work on a illustration of theater play and I’m really looking for our coming one week holidays in Mazury…AND I have the best ever husband…when he saw me crying from pain yesterday he wanted to make me happy so he went through my old photos from Israel and made this small compilation of those which were not published before…I think that is sweet as hell :)

PS: if u know about any exciting illustration project that my work could fit in ( book cover, cd cover, magazine article, kids book, t-shirt design, wall paper design whatever that might be ) please let me know…I’d be very happy to start working from home for the next months :)
  

  

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I don't want my life to be a reason for other's life to be a suffering that is why I am vegan and that is how I want to raise my son. I love my little family, birds, rainy days and life on the road. I believe in life before death :).


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