guilty?

how embarrassing do you find things that touch you, the things that make you sad, the things that occupy your mind? does a seasonal fever of your child concerns you more than a death of your friend’s husband? do you find yourself thinking more about a boy or a girl you like than about your parents’ unemployment? do you think more about a party you are going to throw than about your sibling’s coming graduation day? does a divorce story of a person you barely know touches your heart more than a risky surgery of your relative? do you spend a restless night worrying about your own not-so-hot test results or about the deadly diagnosis of your best friend? do you feel guilty? do you feel like a bad person – an uncaring relative, a selfish friend? do you feel self-centered? do you feel ignorant? can you change your thoughts? can you change your concerns? can you force yourself worry about what you think you should worry about? can you dictate your heart what to be moved by? do you feel comfortable with your thoughts and concerns?

showers

there are these special rituals in america called showers. there are two types of them – a bridal shower, and a baby shower. the concept of these rituals is such – everyone get gifts for a celebrated female, and place them in bags accompanied by cards. then the honorable bride or mother to be is required to open the presents in front of all attending invitees. she opens a first bag, reads a card to herself, thanks the appropriate gift-giving person, then proceeds opening the actual present. in the meantime, all the other respected females are there to judge the item purchaser by the selection she happened to make. then the next bag gets to be opened. repeat. you are considered a weirdo if you try sabotaging the ritual by asking of having your gift not to be opened publicly. whatever your reasons are – you are pretty much defeating the purpose of the gathering by this request. i was wondering if it is possible to alter the order of events without damaging your image too much. can you switch the card and the gift order and purpose? can you write a card suited for public read-aloud, and ask to have your gift to be opened privately instead? have you ever tried?

elephant poop

an elephant turned 180 degrees, he’s behind facing us. he performed a little dance, it was cute. then the enormous pieces of poop started dropping. one, the next, another one.. we are sitting in the circus watching the elephant poop. we are overwhelmed. the children go home and start playing elephant potty training games. i go home, and mention elephant poop in work emails. every day should be an elephant pooping day.

knot

your head feels heavy. the thoughts from today and from yesterday and from the day before and from the week ago and from the year ago all came together and made a tight knot in your brain. you can’t process the thoughts. you can’t think them. you just feel their heaviness, their pressure. you feel the alcohol presence around them. it was supposed to make them feel lighter but it did not. it just made you feel confused. you move the knot of thoughts to the back of your head to let the normal processes function, to let the things flow. you wake up late at night, and you feel the presence of the knot. it moved forward. it wants you to acknowledge it, it needs you to process it, it demands you to accept it. you fix your pillow. you pull up your blanket. you move from your right side to your left. you go back to sleep.

layers

you take a layer off. you do a circle, you send a few smiles. you give a few looks. another layer - off. another circle, more smiles, more looks, more faces, more eyes. layers, layers, more layers. endless layers to take off. is there anything else?

stalker

i am sorry. i have no purpose here. i have no advice. i have no right. we are not even close. i am not even your friend. i can’t get you off my mind. i don’t know why, i don’t know how. it just happened. i feel your fears, i feel your pain, i feel your helplessness. i feel your hope. i feel your happiness at the idea this hope brings. it only goes one way. i can’t send anything back. i can’t send my thoughts, i can’t send my optimism, i can’t send my confidence. i can’t send back this deep feeling of connection i have with you. still, it does not matter. this is not about it. this is not about me. this is not about my uselessness, my feebleness. this is about you. and you will be fine.

sci-fi

a rhinoceros, a giraffe, and a bear are sitting around a giant cactus discussing their breakfast plans. a spaceship flies by with great speed and lands in the fields. the aliens come out. the rhinoceros, the giraffe, and the bear put on camouflage, and sneak to the fields to spy on the spaceship. the war begins.

i feel every sci-fi show my husband watches is just like this.

rickshaw

chinese looking dude is our rickshaw driver. he says he is from kazakhstan, now residing in brooklyn. he will park his vehicle in manhattan before he goes home. he is still working. he does not get that many passengers, he is not spoiled, he wants to impress us. we are way too drunk in order to truly appreciate his efforts. i need to start watching my drinking, it seems. but the air breeze is nice. happily giggly feeling is nice. riding this human-operated transportation in the middle of manhattan late at night is nice. laughing and waving to city tourists is nice. summer is nice. having a friend who is as drunk, smart, witty, and clever as you are is very nice.

rules for crazy mothers

i hear a sound of a mosquito. i know there are must be few of them in our bedroom. i can’t turn the lights on and look for them because there is a baby asleep in our room. the baby is wearing a pajama, but the face is open and vulnerable. the thought of a mosquito biting my sleeping baby is unbearable. i remove my cover sheet. i lay there close to naked thinking there is a larger unprotected square footage on my body than on my baby’s body, therefore a higher chance of a mosquito landing on me. my husband tells me i am insane, and sprays himself with a bug spray.

here is a top 10 rules any crazy woman should establish upon having a child come to an existence:

10. everyone arriving to your house must wear slippers (provided by you), and wash their hands upon entering your living headquarters

9. everyone must sanitize their hands with one of strategically placed variety of hand sanitizers before touching or picking up your baby

8. you must change your child before feeding him despite loosing your mind from the sound of the hungry baby, because the child should not be wet while eating, and because you should not position your baby horizontally for quite sometime after feeding and burping

7. you need to take your baby for a walk every day at least once in between the feedings regardless of the weather or your energy level

6. you must exclusively breastfeed your baby every three hours alternating the breasts with each feeding because that is required for your milk production

5. you must not co-sleep with your baby even if that is the only way to keep her quiet because then you’d be stuck with a toddler in your bed later on

4. there should be no talking while you're breastfeeding because it distracts your baby from eating

3. you must burp your baby for 10 minutes after feedings

2. you have to reverse your stroller and drive it backwards ignoring strange looks by fellow pedestrians each time you get direct sunshine into the stroller that the canopy does not block

1. you need to make key copies for your close family members so they can walk in without disturbing you and your baby in case you are napping/feeding/changing

today

you are saying, you are going to take a different train. you are saying it is faster for you to get home this way. i sense, you don’t want to hang out with me. i sense, you don’t want to make friends with me. i sense, i annoy you. i sense, i bother you. i am overly talkative, i am overly loud, i am overly irritating.. i am overly sensitive. i am overly insecure. i am overly doubtful.. i am going to step aside. i will not attempt to hang out with you. i will not attempt to make friends with you. until today. today is a different day. today, i don’t care what train you want to take. today, i don’t care that i am that irritating, talkative, or loud. today, i don’t feel sensitive. today, i don’t feel insecure. today, i don’t feel doubtful. today, i will attempt to hang out with you. today, i will attempt to make friends with you. maybe for you or maybe for me.

rain

you are walking home in the pouring rain. your new black $4 chinese umbrella is half-way broken from the wind. your new black $300 italian stilettos are ruined. all you want is to get home, take all the wet clothes off, put on your pajamas, get a nice cup of hot chocolate, wrap yourself in a blanket, sit on a cozy big chair by the window, turn the lights off, and quietly relax there watching the rain from the inside. that’s all you want walking through giant puddles, damaging your shoes more and more, holding your broken umbrella against the wind. you get to your house, you open your door, you take off your clothes, you put on your pajamas, you turn on your laptop, you turn on your tv, you microwave your weight-watchers, you sit down on your couch, you start typing.

birthing

i attend birth classes. i have a birth plan. i have a pillow packed in my suitcase. i have a robe packed in my suitcase. i have multiple juice cartons packed in my suitcase. my suitcase is ready to go.

i am starting working from home. i sit down, i connect. i am ready to run my script. something does not feel right. my water breaks right there. oh shit. first, i get some paper towels in attempt to clean up the mess. the water keeps pouring. second, i pick up my phone and call my husband at work. i ask him to call me a car service, and communicate to them that the driver needs to come inside, and get my suitcase out. third, i send an instant message to my coworker telling him i can’t help his client today.

now i need to concentrate. i need to figure out how i can transport myself having nonstop pouring water. the doorbell rings. i press the button to open the front door. nobody comes in. i wait. i call the car service, i ask them to call the driver, and ask him to come inside. finally the confused driver shows up. i tell him, we are going to the hospital. i tell him, i have babies to deliver. i am walking with a towel between my legs.

we get to the car. my main concern is not to get the water on the seat. we start driving. it feels kind of hot. this is a middle of the summer. this is the hottest week so far. i ask the driver to make the air cooler. his conditioner is maxed out. he says it does not work that great. ok, change of plans. i will not be able to spend an hour in this car in my condition. we need to go back to the car service location and change cars. we get there. i sense that the driver is kind of relieved that he will not be the one driving the insane pregnant water dripping woman to the manhattan hospital.

i introduce myself to the next driver. we test the air in his car. it is a little better. i tell the driver we need to get to the hospital as fast as we can. i ask the driver to take the battery tunnel instead of the bridge. the driver suggests taking the bridge because it is free, and there should not be a big traffic at this hour. i reiterate to the driver that my water broke, and we are in a rush to get to the hospital. i reiterate to the driver that paying the toll is not an issue. the driver does not seem to agree, but takes the tunnel nevertheless. the driver keeps talking about how taking the bridge would have been a better choice.

we get to the hospital, my husband gets to the hospital. we proceed upstairs to deliver babies.

mug of love

it began as a regular unremarkable typical gloomy day. i was walking as usual, carrying my giant mug - the mug of love. all my love for you. and then i tripped. and all the love spilled out of the mug. and it was love everywhere. and all these people came out of nowhere with their little cups, and they started helping me to collect my lost love. and they gave me their little cups, full of love, and they left. and i did not know what to do. and i did not know how to feel.

bizarre evening

i decided to attend a pretty unusual event last night. as the evening progressed, it became apparent that everything leading to the event was also pretty odd.

here is the top 10 signs you are having a bizarre evening (listed in chronological order of personal experience):

10. you notice about 10 strollers parked in the lobby of the trendy restaurant of your choice.

9. at 6:30pm, after spending about 15 minutes deciding what to order, you double check your performance confirmation, to find out that the event is scheduled to start at 7pm and not at 8pm as you expected.

8. after the dramatic realization of your unfortunate circumstances, you are prepared to leave hungry and sad, and get a snack someplace else. you explain your situation to the waiter who acts very friendly and commits on serving you in the next 10 minutes.

7. the food is great, and you are able to eat it, and pay for it by 6:55pm.

6. you promptly arrive to the venue to observe that it is pretty much a black tie event.

5. the curtain raises and you are presented with about 40 people in chairs on stage who proceed giving each other various awards, and talking about things you have no clue about.

4. the awards ceremony takes about an hour. you are overwhelmed by the thoughts of uncertainty whether the awards ceremony is all you are going to see. you are overwhelmed by the thoughts of the length of the ceremony. you are overwhelmed by the thoughts of what could have happened have you eaten your dinner under the impression that the show begins at 8pm. you are overwhelmed by the thoughts of what you would presently feel have the waiter did not suggest serving you in the record speed.

3. the performance begins. the event you chose to see is the gala performance by the ballet students from 17 different countries who are selected by new york international ballet competition.

2. after the show you decide to go to the grocery store at the basement of the same building and spend about 30 minutes in there filling the shopping cart with various soy products.

1. on your way home, both of your trains show up right upon your arrival.

figurines

i think they should start selling jon and kate + 8 dolls at this point. a little smart-ass korean dude wearing sweatshirt and shorts, a bitchy short-haired blond female figurine, 8 little kid creatures - 6 very small and 2 slightly bigger, with all boys wearing same brown clothes, and all girls in different pink outfits. i tell you, these dolls will sell like crazy. i turned on my tv the other day, and larry king was there not talking about political figures or entertainment celebrities, no, larry king had few psychologists there with him discussing jon and kate marriage. i understand cheap magazines are doing it, but larry king? it’s insane. who is leading whom in this world?

at least now the media attention finally turned someplace else with michael jackson’s death. at least this event truly requires media coverage. he also honestly deserves all his life-size wax figures. poor poor michael jackson. “she says i am the one”..

winner

you never let yourself fail. you don’t accept defeat. you are not a loser. you are a winner, you are a fighter. you manage to find victories where others see no choice but to give up. it does not matter what you’re up against – a person, a system, nature, yourself. you’re going to win, just wait and see.

what will be your next challenge? what will be your next fight?

bad mother?

the crying of your baby terrifies you. it shows you - you are a bad mother, it shows you – you are an incompetent mother. there is nothing you can do to calm your baby down except feeding her. this is not the feeding time. your baby is crying, you are crying. when your baby cries at night, you despise yourself for wanting to sleep. you hate the fact that what you want the most is to get that baby quiet so you can rest. you don’t want the baby to sleep as much as you want to sleep yourself. you pick your baby up, and you walk with her nonstop for hours in the middle of the night because your mothering instinct tells you to do so. it does not calm the baby down. it does not calm you down. you are barely thinking, you are barely functioning. how did you end up not being prepared? how did you end up not being prepared for your incompetence, for your exhaustion? how did you end up not being prepared for thinking you are a bad mother?

fears

the world thinks you’re a bit crazy. the world thinks you’re smart. the world thinks you’re pragmatic. the world thinks you’re tough. you’re full of fears. you look inward – you’re scared. you look into future – you’re scared. your world has changed, you’re not used to it, you’re not sure how to handle it. you put your hand on your heart to listen to the beat. in your mind, you impatiently cross each day off your mental calendar when you go to bed. you count days forward, you count them in reverse. you get used to it. you get used to your fears. your fears don’t scare you as much anymore. you think you’re a bit crazy. you think you’re smart. you think you’re pragmatic. you think you’re tough. you think you can handle this. you think everything will be just fine.

phases

i envy artists. not only they are cool, not only they get to do what they like, not only they can explore their creativity, but they also able to define their life phases. you can take a brush and paint all in blue colors while you feel like it, and then, when your world is no longer blue, you throw that blue boring paint out, you reach for the pink one, you start your new work. how lucky are you? phases. periods. you get them too, right? how can you, untalented inartistic mediocre asshole, find ways to express your little insignificant life periods? can you do it in your client meetings? can you do it in your programming code? can you do it counting your company’s finances? how can you mark phases of your life?

friends at work

sometimes you make friends at your work. sometimes friends at your work make you feel ignorant. sometimes friends at your work make you feel clueless. sometimes friends at your work make you feel intimidating. sometimes friends at your work make you feel insecure. sometimes friends at your work make you feel annoying. sometimes friends at your work make you feel stubborn.

your friends at work just want to do a good job. you just want to do a good job. your friends at work just disagree with you on something work related. you just feel pressured, you just feel stressed. your friends at work just feel pressured, your friends at work just feel stressed.

will you remember your friends at work few years from now? will you remember your work few years from now? would you like your friends at work to remain your friends few years from now? would you like your work to remain your work few years from now? do you think your friends at work will be your friends few years from now? do you think your work will be your work few years from now?