It is hard to believe that last time I posted photos on my blog was over a year ago.

I’d like to start taking care of this little place of mine again.

But it is damn hard. The brake was so long.

I wanted to come back couple of times, and it almost felt like getting back with somebody I broke up with. Than I started asking myself questions, a lot of question that remained without answers and I just could not. I still don’t have those answers and questions keep popping out in my head. I am unsure, mixed up, little disoriented and overall I feel like an elephant trying to feel comfortable in a tiny traffic shop.

Last year was very difficult. For me it was probably the most difficult year so far in many ways. I stopped blogging and doing almost everything that made me the person I was due to our life situation. I was fighting a personal crisis, we were trying to make our relationship work and there were times when all I could think about was to just keep it all together till the next morning.

When some things loosened up a bit I wanted to step back on the track and I realised it does not work that way. You cant just leave a train and than after 10 months jump on the same one like nothing happened. I felt like I am standing in the middle of nowhere without any idea where to go or what to do. And I simply could not figure out what kind of sense this makes.

Why should I be back and be back to what exactly. Why should I share my life, my privacy, my fears, my pain, my happiness with somebody out there. Why should I write these posts and show pictures of our life. I was confused, I felt like I owe that to somebody, some abstract faceless persona out there, and at the same time there was sort of my inner rebellion towards that senseless feeling telling me that on the contrary I don’t owe anything to anybody and it is just me and thats it.  How should I start doing that again and WHY.

So I did not force anything. I copied photos from my the card to the computer, many times without even looking at them, moved them into new folders, named them, categorised them, closed them and forgot them. There was no need to share myself. And many times I was also questioning my right to share bits of Leo’s world with anybody out there.

And where am I now? I still have no idea. But I guess that it is all part of some healing process and therapy, of moving forward.

I am here to see if that makes any sense or if I just have to move on with things in a different way. If this will make me feel OK,  if there is anything I have to say to myself and to incidental you, if there is anybody out there who wants to listen at all, and if that is important after all.

One year can be so short and so long, so meaning less and meaning full. One year can be a lifetime.

Or maybe I am simply strong enough again to stand the judgements of strangers who don’t know me at all and to whom I am exposing myself voluntarily.

PS: Last weekend we spent in a small wooden house in Witoszyn. When we packed on Monday morning and were about to leave, Leo hid himself in the corner and said he does not want to go back to Warsaw and he wants to live in the woods. That made me very happy. I think he also felt the magic of that gloomy atmosphere.

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Tłumaczenie: Weronika Makowska

We spent last month and a half in Warsaw. I suppose that was it for this year. There is couple more days left before we take off for a new adventure and than probably two more day days in september and thats it. Leo’s room will wait until little man walks in by himself next time he comes.

This past month was busy, very busy, intense in many ways, untraditionally social which in other words means we even met some people, I mean we actually set up meetings with a lot of different people not just met them by coincidence, and that is something quite new to us :). But most of all this past month was emotionally challenging, well at least for me it was, because I had to deal with tons of my own intense emotions, and that’s not my favourite thing to do.

We arrived to Warsaw at the beginning of July with little baby, we set up his own room, deleted “living room” from the map of our flat and moved our bedroom to where this fancy, bohemian and useless salon used to be. Things get a bit more functional once there is resident under three years living with you. Sometimes when I lay in the bed at night and can’t fall asleep after Little L woked me for third time I get this exaggerated idea that setting up his own room must have somehow speeded up his growth. Maybe he felt that he has to grow up and become responsible for his own place, his toys and all his possessions, or simply the fact that he has his own room like a big boy made him wanna be a big boy. Anyway that little baby that arrived to Warsaw is gone and there is little boy sitting in his room talking in some strange language to himself reading one of his four contrast books over and over again and if he is not reading he is vehemently demolishing his potty, because who likes to sit on the potty and be cheered up like a american football player if he can throw it around and make some real noise.

L simply went through some incredible transition and I feel like I woke up next to independent little person one day. And believe me that fact activates A LOT of strong emotions. He is not that sweet little thing that I can cover with kisses every half a minute, that I can squeeze in my embrace anytime I feel like, which is again every half a minute. He still is little and crazy sweet but he is in charge now, he shows me that he gets really bothered when I kiss him like insane, when I hug him to much or to often or when I do both at the same time. He pushes me away with his little hand and gives me a strange look of annoyed 10 year old. I am really glad he does not talk yet. He shows his personality, his need for his own space which is not constantly attacked by a crazy affectionate woman called his mama. His need for freedom is so noticeable and he is not even 10 months old, that it scares the hell out of me. Like he is gonna be four and he’ll be free solo climbing or what? I thought I have a baby and babies are supposed to be babies for a long time not only for couple of months. Litte L’s growing independence is terrifying me much more than finding a grey hair on sunny sunday morning or listening to good advices on parenting and life in general from women who raised their babies in times when cell phones did not even make it to sci-fi movies. I loved that obsessive kissing attacks when I could easily without any obstacles almost eat him up and now I have to ask this little man who possesss four teeth and his own mind for a permission. I am sure one day I will be able to appreciate an independent kid who can entertain himself for half an hour without my assistance, I will be over the top happy about it, but for now this change from baby that was external part of me to baby who is a complete separate unit is just way to shocking. Why nobody prepared me for this? People were giving me so many trivial advices but they somehow forgot to tell me that my baby will grow up over one night.

But having an independent nine moths old living with us was not the only fact that caused me some sleepless nights. We have hired a baby sitter. OMG. Baby sitter a word that in my pre-baby period connected in my mind with horrible quality youtube videos showing some big ladies with mean faces hitting little people, carrying them around the house in aggressive way, throwing them on the floor or letting them cry in their crib while they play FB games. I never thought I will have a baby sitter for L, at least I did not think about it when he was three, four or five months old. I was sure we will make it, just us and Little guy until he is at least one year old. But we did not. As he started to move around, change his position within minutes, as he showed his elevated interest in electrocity plugs, smashing chairs on himself and than on the floor, eating everything that does not run away and finding the most dangerous objects in house most interesting we capitulated. I thought I was busy with him when he was a little lying veggie. No I was not! Only now I truly understood the luxury of fearless one minute pee break. So we did what I thought was the last option, we called for help from a stranger, gave this strange lady the most valuable thing in the world in her hands together with a bottle of water and clean nappy, showed her the way to the park and felt relieved when we saw her back getting of our sight behind the next corner. First time this happened I did not know if I should cry from sadness, fear or happiness. So I cried from all of those reasons each at a time and some other as well. Like feeling of complete failure as a mother, feeling worried if L will not be kidnapped by some organised group infiltrating pensionary harmless looking ladies into the lives of young families. If this lady will not suffer from fatal hear attack during one of those tropic days in the park and L will be pulled away in his stroller and we will never find our where he ended up. I saw myself running around the streets of Warsaw in unspeakable panic, with long gray hair and thorn apart clothes for the next 20 years, becoming an urban legend. I saw many different scenarios and I actually still see them every time I wave to my little man and see his content smile as he is being driven to park with by his nanny.

Oh yes I had to fight a lot of crazy emotions this month and I know I am still at the beginning and there is much more waiting for me along the way. As for now I am happy we ‘r packing and hitting the road again very very soon. No nannies just four of us, one car and loads of plans, how positive does that sound :)

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Ostatnie półtora miesiąca spędziliśmy w Warszawie i chyba to koniec na ten rok. Pozostało jeszcze kilka dni zanim ruszymy po nową przygodę i pewnie ze dwa dni we wrześniu, ale to wszystko. Pokój Leo poczeka, aż następnym razem, on sam do niego wejdzie. Zeszły miesiąc był bardzo, ale to bardzo zabiegany, pod wieloma względami intensywny, nie tradycyjnie towarzyski. Nawet poznaliśmy nowych ludzi i umawialiśmy się na spotkania, a nie tylko spotykaliśmy ich przypadkowo i jest to dla nas coś nowego. Ale ten zeszły miesiąc był przede wszystkim trudny pod względem emocjonalnym. Przynajmniej dla mnie, ponieważ musiałam radzić sobie z ogromem moich silnych emocji, a nie jest to moje ulubione zajęcie. Przyjechaliśmy do Warszawy na początku lipca, z małym dzieckiem, któremu urządziliśmy własny pokój, zamazaliśmy “pokój dzienny” na mapie mieszkania i przenieśliśmy naszą sypialnię w miejsce tego luksusowego, ekscentrycznego oraz bezużytecznego salonu. Rzeczy przybierają bardziej funkcjonalny charakter, kiedy mieszka z tobą człowiek poniżej trzeciego roku życia. Czasami w nocy, kiedy leżę w łóżku i nie mogę zasnąć, po tym jak Mały L obudził mnie trzeci raz z rzędu, zaczynam myśleć, że posiadanie własnego pokoju sprawiło, iż szybciej dorasta. Może poczuł, że musi dojrzeć i wziąć odpowiedzialność za swoje własne miejsce, zabawki oraz resztę rzeczy, które do niego należą, albo po prostu to, że posiada pokój, niczym duży chłopiec, sprawiło, że zapragnął stać się dużym chłopcem. W każdym razie, małe dziecko, które przyjechało do Warszawy zniknęło, a w jego pokoju siedzi teraz mały chłopiec, który mówi do siebie jakimś dziwnym językiem i ogląda w kółko jedną ze swoich czterech książeczek, aż do znudzenia, a jeśli nie czyta, to z zacięciem demoluje swój nocnik, bo kto lubi siedzieć na nocniku i być dopingowanym jak jakiś amerykański piłkarz, jeśli może nim rzucać, robiąc przy tym niemożliwy hałas. L przeszedł niesamowitą przemianę i czuję się, jakbym pewnego dnia obudziła się obok zupełnie niezależnej osoby. I uwierzcie mi, wyzwala to we mnie WIELE silnych emocji. Nie jest już słodkim dzidziusiem, którego mogę obcałować co trzydzieści sekund, którego mogę wyściskać, jak tylko mam na to ochotę, czyli również co trzydzieści sekund. Nadal jest mały i szalenie słodki, ale teraz to on ma kontrolę i daje mi do zrozumienia, że przeszkadza mu, kiedy całuję go jak opętana, czy za mocno lub za często przytulam, a co gorsza, gdy robię obie z tych rzeczy równocześnie. Odpycha mnie swoją małą rączką i patrzy na mnie poirytowany, niczym dziesięciolatek. Naprawdę cieszę się, że jeszcze nie zaczął mówić. Pokazuje swoją osobowość, potrzebę własnej przestrzeni, która nie jest wiecznie naruszana przez szaloną i zbyt czułą kobietę, zwaną jego mamą. Mimo iż nie skończył jeszcze dziesięciu miesięcy, jego potrzeba wolności jest tak zauważalna, że aż mnie to przeraża. A co jak będzie miał cztery lata? Będzie się wspinał bez zabezpieczenia, czy co? Myślałam, że mam dziecko, a dzieci powinny nimi zostać przez długi czas, a nie tylko przez kilka miesięcy. Rosnąca potrzeba samodzielności Małego L przeraża mnie bardziej, niż siwy włos znaleziony w słoneczny, niedzielny poranek albo słuchanie dobrych rad na temat rodzicielstwa i życia w ogóle, od kobiet, które wychowywały dzieci w czasach, w których telefony komórkowe nie pojawiały się nawet w filmach science fiction. Uwielbiałam te chwile, kiedy mogłam rzucać się na niego z pocałunkami, jakbym chciała go zjeść żywcem, a teraz muszę prosić tego małego człowieka, który posiada cztery zęby i własny umysł, o jego pozwolenie. Jestem pewna, że któregoś dnia docenię niezależne dziecko, które potrafi się samo bawić przez pół godziny, bez mojej pomocy i będę nawet super szczęśliwa z tego powodu, ale teraz ta zmiana z dziecka, które było zewnętrzną częścią mnie, w dziecko, które jest osobną jednostką, jest dla mnie zbyt szokująca. Dlaczego nikt mnie na to nie przygotował? Ludzie dawali mi tyle błahych rad, ale z jakiegoś powodu zapomnieli mi powiedzieć, że moje dziecko urośnie w jedną noc. Ale fakt, że nagle mieszka z nami niezależna, dziewięciomiesięczna osoba, nie był jedyną przyczyną moich bezsennych nocy. Zatrudniliśmy opiekunkę do dziecka. O mój Boże. W moim okresie sprzed porodu, opiekunka do dziecka kojarzyła mi się z okropnej jakości filmikami na you tubie, w których występują grube panie ze złośliwymi twarzami i które biją małych ludzi. noszą je po domu w agresywny sposób, rzucają o ziemię i pozwalają płakać w łóżeczku, podczas gdy same grają w gry na Facebooku. Nigdy nie wyobrażałam sobie, że będę miała opiekunkę dla L, a przynajmniej nie myślałam o tym, kiedy miał trzy, cztery czy pięć miesięcy. Byłam pewna, że nam się uda, tylko my i nasz Mały chłopiec, przynajmniej dopóki nie skończy roku. Ale nie udało się. Kiedy zaczął się ruszać, zmieniać pozycję w ciągu kilku minut oraz okazywać wzmożone zainteresowanie gniazdkami, wywalać krzesła na siebie, a potem na podłogę, jeść wszystko, co nie ucieka, a w końcu, kiedy najbardziej zaczęły mu się podobać najniebezpieczniejsze przedmioty w naszym domu, skapitulowaliśmy. Wydawało mi się, że miałam z nim dużo pracy, kiedy był jeszcze małym, leżącym warzywkiem. To nieprawda! Dopiero teraz naprawdę doceniam, jakim luksusem jest móc pójść w spokoju na siku. Więc zrobiliśmy to, co uważałam za ostatnią opcję, poprosiliśmy o pomoc nieznajomą, powierzyliśmy tej obcej pani najcenniejszą rzecz, jaką mamy, podaliśmy ją jej do rąk razem z butelką wody i czystą pieluchą, pokazaliśmy drogę do parku i poczuliśmy ulgę, kiedy zobaczyliśmy, jak znika z naszego wzroku, za najbliższym rogiem. Za pierwszym razem nie wiedziałam, czy mam płakać ze smutku, strachu, czy szczęścia. Tak więc płakałam ze wszystkich tych powodów po kolei oraz z kilku innych. Na przykład dlatego, że czuję się okropną matką albo boję się, że Mały L zostanie porwany przez jakąś grupę zorganizowaną, która podstawia młodym rodzinom starsze panie, wyglądające na nieszkodliwe. Bałam się, że ta starsza pani dostanie zawału w parku, a w tym czasie ktoś zabierze wózek z Małym L i już nigdy go nie odnajdziemy. Wyobrażałam sobie, jak biegam po ulicach Warszawy w niewyobrażalnej panice przez kolejne 20 lat, z długimi, szarymi włosami i podartym ubraniem, stając się miejską legendą. Widziałam przed oczami wiele różnych scenariuszy i, prawdę mówiąc, nadal je sobie wyobrażam za każdym razem, kiedy macham do małego mężczyzny i widzę jego zadowolony uśmiech, podczas gdy niania zabiera go do parku. O tak, muszę walczyć z wieloma pokręconymi emocjami w tym miesiącu i wiem, że to dopiero początek i jeszcze tyle mnie czeka po drodze. Teraz bardzo się cieszę, że się pakujemy i za chwilę wyjeżdżamy. Przez jakiś czas żadnych niań, tylko nasza czwórka, jeden samochód i mnóstwo planów, jak to pozytywnie brzmi :).
 

It is almost one week since we celebrated Little L’s first small anniversary. I have never been aware of time passing as much as I am now. Past 6 months have gone so fast and so slowly at the same time. My own perception of time has changed so much. I’ve experienced minutes that seemed to be hours, and days that seemed to be seconds. Little L turned my whole life upside down.

One would expect that after waking up next to Little L 174 times I should be pretty much used to it. But I am not. Sometimes when I hold him in my arms I get this strong feeling that is hard to describe. I feel shocked, surprised, terrified, happy that I am a mother and he is my son and that it is perfectly real and it will never change. Other times during our walks when I look at him so peacefully resting I feel almost physical pain caused by an enormous amount of fear that paralyses my whole body. There is this little person that I will be worried about every day for the rest of my life. Every single moment in my unconscious there will be fear if he is ok, if he is healthy and if he does not suffer in any way. I realise how helpless I am, how many things out there I can not influence or change. I realise that all I can do is be there for him and the rest will happen in front of my eyes as a theatre play.

Past six months have been beautiful, intense, overwhelming, difficult, confusing. I stared to question everything much more than before. Making decision is not that easy anymore. Suddenly every litte thing seems to have bigger meaning. I am not responsible for myself only, I influence another life. This little person will be experiencing life through me for the first years, I will be middle of his universe. I feel the need, the necessity to do things right, to show him right, to teach him right whatever that right might mean, cause who is to decide.

I am wondering if one can ever get used to being a mother, a parent. For me its is so new every morning I wake up. Just like  Little L is changing every day, he discovers something new every day, he learns something new every day, I look at him and this simple statement “I am your mother” becomes so overwhelmingly meaningful that it fills up the room and takes us on a new ride.

April from Bart Pogoda on Vimeo.

Days are passing by and I see Little L. growing into small person that is not a veggie anymore…He starts to laugh a lot and I love to wake up next to him and see his smile first thing in the morning…A lot of things changed for us, for me…I start loving being a mother…I am not nervous any more about everything that I can’t do…I am not nervous about constant lack of time and days filled with repeated actions…I feel like a helpless observer when looking at Little L….he is changing daily…he is growing at ultra fast speed and only through him I am now able to understand passing of time…I know everything will be different in month, in half a year or in one year and I will miss these moments so much…moments of him being so taintlessly and absolutely dependent on us…A lot of things changed….the worse fear I had before giving a birth was me breast feeding…It was my secret night mare..I was googling any kind of information about women who refuse to breast feed because they don’t feel comfortable about it…I just could not imagine it happen…My breast were for my whole adult life a synonym for sexuality and now they were about to change their designation and a small human being was supposed to suck them all day long…HOW????….I desperately needed to know that it is OK not to be into breast feeding in the times when women fight for society to accept public breast feeding as something normal…and here I am, two months after giving birth breast feeding and what more…I find it absolutely beautiful…it’s the time when me any Little L. are completely detached from rest of the world and closed in our own bubble…I see him calming down, feeling secure, holding my finger and examining my face over and over…I love those moment and that incredible bond that it creates between us…

This year was actually the first time that I was sort of thinking about making some sort of resolutions for coming year…and surprisingly it has nothing to do with the need and necessity to plan that is essential when having a baby….my urge for resolution appeared while watching Winged Migration…I know it is an old movie, but I was never able to watch it as there are birds dying…this year I watched the movie while breast feeding Little L….it seemed as good time to give it a try and I was hypnotized…completely and absolutely…paralyzed by by the beauty and perfection of the nature…the majesty and flawlessness of birds…and the combination of those two was breath taking….and than comes the human to the picture and everything is fucked up…each trace of human action is like a black depressive cloud full of shit….humans and their creations their greed their ignorance their arrogance and ability to damage and devastate…many times I feel ashamed for human race…many times I wish they were not given a chance to spoil such beautiful place…but there are moments when I feel hate, strong extreme hate…and watching Winged Migration was one of them..I felt I need to do more, much more, to change more in my life…not that it would change the world but it would make me feel better about myself…it would make it easier for me to live with the fact that I am also contributing to destruction of nature by the way I live….So my resolution was to find ways how to lower the negative side effects of my being here…I plan to cut down buying crap, I plan to be more precise when it comes to choosing products I use…we already use only not tested cosmetics and cleaning products, but there is still place where I have to be more aware of what I use and choose, I plan to go more for second hand chooses when possible, I plan not to buy shoes, clothes this year, I plan to take some plastic bags when we go out for walks in the nature and pick up the shit that people leave behind…I simply plan to be more aware of my actions than I was until now…And I plan to illustrate a book for Litte L.