Monday, January 31, 2011

I Hate Mondays



'Tash.. About what you're wearing..' my boss carefully begun. I slurped my coffee, only half attentive to what he's saying, running on give or take a little, not more than 3 hours of sleep.


'It is Monday after all..' he continued.

'So it says on my shirt', I apathetically reply, still clutching my disposable coffee cup for dear life with one hand, and navigating through Outlook with the other.


'Honey, you are fantastic, you look like something straight off the pages off a magazine, cutest thing to walk this Earth!'

'But?' I raise my eyes up from the laptop screen, feeling them involuntarily narrow because the light in the conference room was infinitely brighter than I could tolerate this morning.

He was referring to my 'I hate Mondays' Garfield t-shirt, that I had paired with light blue denim MNG jeans, winter boots and legwarmers, topping off with a cyan blue hoodie, new chocolate brown leather jacket and large hoop earrings.

I refrained from hissing at him, deciding that emitting animal sounds would not be the mature thing to do.


'You know, dress code and all..' he says lightly.

'Well. May I be frank?' I say to him, in English, him still not being fluent often causes amusing misunderstandings, this morning was no exception.

'Just be as you are!' he replies, evidently confused (Franc is a Swiss man who visits the office once every 3 months, very sharp dresser.. very sharp mind but as dull as a butter knife in terms of personality.)

I fight the urge to slam my head on the keyboard and explain that being frank is being blunt and honest. He gives me the go-ahead.



'My boyfriend is in Fiji and says calling is too expensive for the crap connection we'd get. (he called later today anyway!) So I make do with Skype chit-chat and will have to for the next week, which would give my ex who's a pilot such a kick, as I used to rail his excuses of being too far to call or keep in touch properly.

..The sleep you get on average per night is the equivalent of what I get a week. I have gained weight and I've got no idea how to lose it without swearing off food altogether, and my self esteem has taken a severe beating.

My kid is deprived of extra curricular activities because I'm too busy working. I am constantly running late because I don't have a watch, I am obsessed with a heart-shaped Swarowski encrusted Inesse M. one but I'd never afford it since you don't pay me enough.

..I have been sick for five days and my handbag doesn't match my outfit, I cannot afford one that would because I need to pay rent on Wednesday and a third of it has yet to be pulled from thin air before then.

..having said that, do you mind if I keep wearing my 'I Hate Mondays' t-shirt?'

He stares at me.

'And I'm cramping' I add, returning my gaze to Outlook.

'More coffee?' he asks sheepishly. Aah, what the word 'cramping' does to a grown man. Amusing.

'Yes, please.' I reply, not shifting looks even for a moment.

About half an hour later we were interrupted, a guy walked in, left a stack of papers and walked out.

'What you like, right?' I get asked.

'Ooh can I have the pink file, I do like it! I exclaim excitedly, draining the remainder of my Red Bull.

'No, not that' he says, perplexed.

'Fine, keep it!' I put the pink file down.

He tells me to focus. I tell him that the Power Point presentation colors were indeed pretty. He seems frustrated.

'I mean the guy..' he stresses.

'What guy?' I purposely patronize him.

He gives up. Later, I emphasize that I don't own a 'My Boyfriend Is Out Of Town' t-shirt.

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What the hell?

So.. how do I feel today? - Less.


Less of everything: Less sick. Less upset. Less apathy.. just 'less'.

Let it be this way, I'm in a comfortable place. As comfortable as one can get, given the circumstances.

Need to do something tomorrow. Just to bury all these excess thoughts about the future, present and the past away altogether. I guess I have to straighten my hair? Or just style the waves in the morning. Double coat of mascara without a doubt. I want to possibly buy a new handbag. If it's not too cold I'll wear my new jacket. It probably will be though. Tomorrow is going to be difficult. The day after tomorrow - all the worse, by the time Tuesday night arrives .. I don't even want to think about it.

My skin, despite emotional epilepsy that would generally lead to havoc breakouts, is actually not doing too bad. God save Clinique. I've only now taken a step backwards to see how it is I'm living exactly. As when you're juggling so many things at the same time, you're just living through life, enjoying the good days and rolling with the bad. Last Monday, I purposely started paying attention to all sorts of details, and by Monday night I was absolutely aghast at some things. I really don't like certain aspects of my life but on the other hand, what's there to do?

I suppose I have always been used to living differently, but these last two years have completely thrown me off track. I think the loss of several 'protective' people, ones who assured me that I shouldn't be doing things out of any sort of obligation if these things upset me, so I was left to fend for myself but truth be told, I don't know when to quit. I don't know how miserable I have to get before I call the quits. It never got to a point of getting so .. the way it is now.

There is something that is off, I feel it. It's different and I don't understand why. Maybe I'm doing something wrong? What has changed? I don't know. What do I do? I'm not alone, not even remotely so but I suppose, I've never got myself so deep into a locked circle, maybe now it's not a question of me becoming different, this time I'm in so much complex difficulty that there's no helping.

I just want this all to at least give me a glimpse of improvement. Just a faint silver lining. I'm too tired.

There are three things I wished would happen today. 2 of them were possible. Then why not?
Here comes the warning bell chiming, I have been there, done that. Ding Ding Ding. I think I just got my feelings hurt, or something of the sort? I can't even tell for sure, but it seems that way. Whatever, it doesn't make a difference, by next week this will all be trivial.

I have always been emotionally clueless in terms of myself - I never know when to ask for help, when to say that I've had enough, when I've really had enough, I keep living the way I do, until somebody takes a glance, and then aghast asks me why. Then I realize, but mostly do nothing. What can I do anyway?

It feels wrong. Fine. Let's move on to other things. I have to at least try.



Friday, January 28, 2011

Wed/Thu/Fri/Sat/Sun/Mon/Tue/Wed/Thu/Fri/Sat/Sun

I was so sad, and it was just morning.

As predicted though, I found myself having to grow numb towards all this. By the end of the weekend, I won't even stop to think about it. Did it all really have to come to this? I guess so.

I spent most of the night thinking about the answer to the question 'what are you so afraid of', and just before finally drifting off into sleep, I figured it out and the reason why the question had bothered me so much.


I am afraid of for a second time, finding myself in a situation where when the other person is faced with a choice - either to make a difficult decision and possibly get hurt himself or hurt somebody else -or- make an easier decision that's most likely to hurt me, not because it was his intention, but because I'm so invested in the relationship, trusting blindly - to a point of where an instant, spontaneous or not-thought through decision would indeed hurt me. In the experience I've had, when faced with a choice, it was always easier for him to opt to hurt me, until he realized I'm not that strong or coping, but by that time I had already left, literally to the other side of the world. So, I've lived that, and left it behind. 


That is what I am afraid of.

You're probably wondering why I'm doing this to myself. You know what, I've got no clue, but I find mentally mingling with this more comforting than ignoring thoughts about him altogether.

He texted again this morning, my phone has an option where it keeps the last sms in a tool bar above the desktop, I quickly stumbled to remove it from sight. My heart does a weird sinking thing when I'm reminded of him being gone.

I was at work, back to back changing of conference rooms and barely any time to stop and think - this was a good thing, so was the lack of lunch as I'm looking to lose some pounds.

When I took a glance at my phone, I realized he had texted again, this made me smile and I was overwhelmed by the outburst of happiness at the thought of him, and suddenly, at about 3:30pm, it became clear:

This sudden trip of his, it's like a prank - a false taste of what it would feel like to lose him. This is why I'm upset and emotional, a part of me feels as if I've temporarily lost him but my mind, and he assures me otherwise, this is just such raw emotion for me, I have trouble remaining rational.

'Just look forward to him coming back and then Paris in no time, Tash!' my friend assured me for the umptieth time.

Instead of remaining quiet this time, I smiled.

'You're right!' I replied enthusiastically, as I got up from the Starbucks table we had been occupying and threw my bag over my shoulder, gave him a kiss on the cheek.

'No, Tash.. Not like thaaat!' he whined at me, but it was too late, I had already started walking off into the depths of the mall. After all, it's seasonal sale time.

This should be one of the last posts, for the upcoming ten days about this particular topic (him leaving), as you know what, I quit this. I don't want to do this. I've already told him, that I've always had the privilege and liberty of turning my back on things I don't like, and though we had been talking about an altogether different subject at the time, he told me to do just that if I wanted to and that he'd take care of me - now I just have to let him, whilst letting myself really trust him and believe him as right now I say I do but when put to a test, I realize I start doubting all sorts of things and becoming confused about what I had been previously adamant on, so possibly to learn all of that from scratch if need be.

But you know what? I bought the cutest jacket, it's going to look fab in Paris, with the earrings he bought me. Oh, and MANGO were having a sale, a girl cannot have too many tank-tops.

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Hiatus

I woke up startled by own sleep. When I opened my eyes, I realized that I had slept through several alarms. I had been feeling sluggish all of the previous night, so no wonder I guess, my body demanded that I catch up on sleep and didn't ask my brain for approval.

I quickly got on with calling work - there was no way I'd have made it on time, then I made an extra strong cup of coffee and fiddled with my phone. I was somewhat lost in terms of my morning ritual getting so screwed up.

No new messages, which was just as well since I had been warned he'd have no network coverage. I took a few minutes to let this sink in and then instantly mentally scanned myself for emotions: Sad? - Not really. Lonely? - Not yet. Angry? - Not even remotely. Apathy.

Nowadays, we still text to say good morning, and though his name doesn't appear at the top of my 'calls received' or 'recently dialed' lists, we chat on Skype or text throughout the day. I suppose since he came back from his last trip, he's had more work and gets more and/or easily stressed towards the evening. Having a sense of how busy he is, I've become uneasy about randomly calling for a chat, I used to a lot before. I hadn't noticed that until I really thought about it this morning. He often says he doesn't give me enough attention these days, and I usually say nothing in reply, but maybe he says so because he's noticed? Anyway.

I switched my laptop on, and only after a while noticed Skype blinking at me, first instinct was to ignore it, but I clicked anyway, and it was him. I smiled. He said he misses me. Apathy --> Missing him --> Sad. I suppose a part of me, a big part of me still doesn't understand but I don't want to think about this anymore, not even for a moment. But I do nevertheless, I'll stop tomorrow or the day after I think.

I made the most of my morning off, though in all honesty, I'd much rather be occupied. So I quickly piled on things to do, catch up with a friend, fix a fur pom-pom to Nika's winter hat, take her outside to play, window shop a little, talk to some friends on the phone. Rent is due on Wednesday. Today's basically over, and tomorrow I'll have little free time.


'How do you do it?' I asked an acquaintance at work, about his infamous long distance relationship. He answered that he has no idea, and that when circumstances demanded they live apart, they complied and now it's natural.

I don't get it. Deployment, long distance, complexity.. I just don't.

I don't do well when left to my own devices with not much activity but thinking, it often ends up more in a shape of self-harm rather than soul-searching.

I'm now inclined to make a phone call. I usually do around this time of year anyway, just to ask exactly.. what could I have done -back then- to make -that- person happier; maybe I'm missing something now? Had I been missing it then too? Something must be wrong or at least not right. Maybe I just don't know it? I would almost feel better if that were the case.. But anyway, it's now that matters.

It's just.. I'll be honest, I've always felt throughout these six months that he's given me this feeling of absolute safety. Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, I suddenly got the feeling which has now turned into a pending fear, that it's a probable possibility - him turning around and leaving, even if temporary.

I know what's going on in his life besides our relationship, and it's unfair of me to think this way given the circumstances, oh god, but on the other hand, what's going on in his life right now.. it's for such a long time and I .. what can I say or do? Will he think of me and my feelings in the mid of all this if I take a chance not to and if I'm still involved then?

His name is back at the top of my screen, he has arrived and sent me a text message to say he can't stop thinking of me.

'Tash, all you have to do is wait, for 10 days' my friend assured me earlier today.

I remained quiet. 'This time..' he continued. Then he asked me what I was so afraid of.
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Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Departures.

I initially had so much to share, to say.. to tell. About things that had happened to me, what is going on now, decisions I had made, things I wanted to ask for help with, tell him what it is I wanted. In the end though, I could say nothing, I just had no words. I don't understand why it was more comfortable to sit in uneasy silence, with knots in my chest, eyes burning and feeling as if there's just not enough air in the room. I felt that way for the rest of the night too.

It's only eleven days that he's leaving for, I have no logical explanation for my feelings, emotions in general, especially mine, are usually anything but logical, this is the norm.

All evening, regardless of where I was and with whom, before meeting him, my mind had scrolled all the way back to several years ago.
I remember someone else, this is the The Past I'm talking about; stacking neatly folded shirts into a medium-sized suitcase. I couldn't stand the sight so I said I was leaving and by the time I came back, he had already finished packing.

I remember locking the door behind him. And watching him get into the cab and seeing it drive off. I don't know why I was crying but I was, as I had often been those days, and this time wasn't an exception.


I don't think that even half an hour had passed, when the door-bell rang. He came back. In another 10 minutes it was evident that even if he had changed his mind and wanted to go on that trip after all, it would have been too late, but he didn't. He had decided to stay. He told me then, that his leaving would have been for trivial reasons, but his staying would be for actual valid ones - me. He said he'd have come back earlier, if he didn't have to make a stop. He then placed the prettiest and most dainty ring I had ever seen, over the much bulkier, heavier engagement ring that I had already been wearing for a while by that time.Without a doubt my engagement ring at the time was prettier than I had ever seen, I wouldn't have made a better choice if I had to pick it myself. But the dainty one, I loved it. I asked why another ring and he said because for as long as he can, he will.

I wore that same ring yesterday, for good luck, maybe?

I knew that he is leaving for sure, I don't even want him to not go, as I know how much he'd like to go. I suppose I'm just incapable of lying, I can't pretend to be happy about it. A part of me wonders though, am I not enough to sustain him being happy, will he need to continuously leave every so often? How am I different now than all those years ago? I realize that he's a different person altogether, in comparison, but if I was enough for another person back then, am I not now, for him? Have I changed for the worse or the less? Is he leaving because I didn't manage enough so he'd stay? I don't even want these questions answered to be honest.



I think what most upset me, from the beginning was how he said he was only considering the trip jokingly. Then he said he was considering it more seriously. Then he said he was just thinking about it. Yet in the mid of all this, he was making ticket reservations and checking out hotels. By the time his ticket had been booked, he still didn't actually tell me he had made the decision to go. I had to say 'You're going, aren't you?' and only then did he say 'Probably yes'. Maybe I'm pointing into thin air at this, but regardless, it made me sad.




He got me such nice presents. Well, this was coincidentally, as again, his decision to leave was made over the course of an hour it seems, whereas the presents he had bought before.  


And though without a doubt, it's better to share unpleasant news when its accompanied by a box from Tiffany & Co.. I was and still am sad about it all. 
 
Of course, it's better to be sad whilst wearing gorgeous Tiffany earrings than to just be sad. (Oh don't you look at me that way, it's the god-awful truth.)

There's so much I wanted to say, needed to tell, but often when I'm sad, I just have no words, in fact it's the only time I have no words. Life goes on of course, and it will keep going on after he comes back. Albeit, for all the times a person has left in my life, be it my current boyfriend or another, my dad, a best friend, other friends (even if it's leaving only to come back later), there was only one time that a person didn't leave altogether. So, I suppose though he says he'll come back and I know he will, I'll remember him leaving, just as I still remember someone else staying. Yet him being him, he was bound to leave like this sooner or later, and this isn't the first time he has left. And he will leave again. All that's left is a vague and frail hope that he will keep coming back, as he has been. And that I'm still here, in the place that he had left when he comes back.

That, what we cannot accept and cannot change, we have to either leave behind or grow to love.




Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Nailed it.




It was beastly cold outside - at least to me. Granted, I have a chronic habit of under-dressing for the weather but regardless..

I couldn't wait to get out of the stuffy albeit warm metro, my face was burning and hands shaking - I was about to cry, this is something I detest doing, more so in public.


When the crisp air hit my face, like a freezing wave, hot tears poured down my face in contrast. I walked and sobbed, then sobbed and walked some more.

Upon getting to my destination, I ordered myself to pull my pathetic act together, typed in a text message, pressed 'send' and walked in.

The hair and nail place - the designated haven for all my venting, whining and crying.

I looked as if I had spent the morning in hell, I hadn't, it was actually the night and lack of sleep that had got the best of me.

I sit down, take a deep breath, as my manicurist chirps at me about this and that, but it was the hairdresser that stopped in his tracks, glanced at me and asked if I was okay.

'Fabulous!' I exclaim, avoiding eye-contact.

'Riiight' Stepa the hairdresser mocks, as he pulls up a chair next to me. 'How's the boyfriend?' he winks.

3. 2. 1. Insert tears here. 3 minutes of non-stop banter, with several sobs interjected in mid-sentence.

'...And he's going away to a distant time zone for over a week' I wail.

Stepa stares. 'But it's not your fault?' he carefully inquires, handing me a tissue with an extended arm, as if I were contagious.

'No..!' I wail louder.

'Then why are you wailing?' Stepa says, genuinely confused.

'Because I miss him when we're in the same city little yet when he's away, and I am too upset to count the total days and because...' Insert more sobbing here.

'..Honey, looks like you need a haircut too.' Says a concerned Stepa as he pats my head lovingly.

'And a blowdry!' I wail -and- sob.

-2 hours later-

'So ten days for sure then, Stepa concludes, after having counted the days of my boyfriend's upcoming absence, whilst my manicurist put a finishing layer on my nails, but stopped in her tracks at Stepa's calculation, looking at me, clearly wondering if I was going to go through another pack of tissues.

I take a deep breath, the two recoil, in a 'watch out, it's about to blow' manner. Silence from me though. Had no tears left.

'..how about a design on the nails then' my manicurist offers carefully and kindly, as though it were candy and I a child.

*silence*

'..and some glitter..' she continues.

*silence*

'and jewels!' she emits false excitement.


*silence*

Later, it turned out that it's going to be 11 days. - I ought to have got a pedicure.

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Thursday, January 20, 2011

Changes.

I swept my hair up and pinned it, all the time making an extra effort to ignore the voice mocking me. I don't mean this figuratively speaking, I mean there literally was someone standing, barely a metre to my right, mocking me. But do you know what? I was making an effort for myself.

I don't remember the last time I had put my hair up, possibly months ago, and again, several months before that. The incentive was finding a photo of myself, taken on February 28th, 2005. I looked nice with hair pulled out of my face, but that's like robbing me of a safety blanket, as I so often hide my face behind my hair, all of my close friends have said I shouldn't; sometimes I believe them, other times.. not so much.

I had spent fifteen minutes rummaging on my shelf, looking for at least one top amidst the t-shirts. I found one.. cropped at the stomach, thin straps, I .. used to wear it all the time in 2004 and 2005. Upon putting it on, I realized it fits, and looks okay. I didn't look bad, was the verdict I gave myself.


Back then, I remember in the mid of argument, being told that I had nothing else - nothing besides healthy weekly styled hair; naturally pretty eyes, enhanced to the max by Lancome kohl and Dior mascara; latest trend clothes; porcelain perfect blemish-free skin, unharmed by stress or weather conditions which I had been kept from, given and encouraged to use a car in lieu of walking in the wind or standing in the snow.

'But I was never this way, never! You made me get like this, you made me this way' I remember hysterically shouting at him, as he sat in place, dragging on his Sobraine Black cigarette painfully slowly, urging me for patience until he spoke, only to then say a sentence more lurid than the last. 'But you are beautiful', he had finished the argument that night, but soon his every compliment grew on me as an insult, and there was no turning back after that, the first stone had been thrown and that in itself was the beginning of a short-lived bu vicious war.

It was him though. He put me in his world, would whisper 'Nothing matters but you, my love' if I asked about matters I had no business knowing, unaware that the world that he and I had created wasn't even a fraction of his reality. He said all he had was mine, but all I wanted was him. So there I was, in his world, but defenseless and stranded on ice so thin, I had no choice but to struggle to be weightless - otherwise I would go under.

Now, over a thousand days since, I have grown much colder.

Back then, it felt as if I were forced into a frail albeit beautiful feminine outer shell, and though it didn't fit and was uncomfortable, I pretended otherwise. I never felt safety.

So what kind of love would you say, a person's got for you, when your are living their life, the way they'd like you to, and it seems as if there's not much of you there at all. To a point if he turned around and found you gone, if someone were to have replaced you - he may or may not even notice.

What kind of 'love' is that? Is it even love at all?
But still, he was one of two men who have thus far encouraged me to be myself - not weaker nor stronger than I really am, neither younger or older, in general - nothing less and nothing more than the truth. Yet only this time do I feel the safety that I had not felt last time, and I'm learning to let myself be natural, which is in itself a scary chance to take.

Yet yesterday, as I voluntarily browsed through a catalogue of summer chiffon dresses, I realized that I'm now with a person who doesn't force me to mimic popular magazine spreads, but more importantly, he's taken in all my weaknesses, instead of ignoring their existence and buying me a life that would blur and lessen their impact - he accepted them and therefore me.

So the reason I bring this up, is because I woke up feeling resentment, and had started reminissing about The Past whilst still asleep.

I get this way when life gets difficult. I suddenly have the urge to run to this 'fix-it-all' person, the way I had this summer, but alas, I've gone away too far this time. The only way he would agree to help is if he were to come get me, which isn't an option, not even remotely.

What do I do?
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Sunday, January 16, 2011

What's the best thing that happened to you in 2010?

Having the strength and courage to let go of the old, and let in the new. Thus making me very, very happy.

I dare you!

Potty Training - warning, words 'poop' and 'pee' used!

Originally posted at BG.com

I started potty training my child before she could crawl, before she could walk, before she could pull her clothes down, and in general, she showed no signs of being ready, not the recommended ones anyway.

Nika has always had super sensitive skin, to the extent of the moment she'd pee in her diaper, her butt would turn bright red, I'd always do my best to rush and change her right away, sometimes it was a case of a diaper change every 20-30 minutes throughout the day and several times at night, otherwise she'd breakout in a hellish rash. It wasn't the diaper brand I tried every brand available, even organic diapers - 100$ per pack of 38.

One week, I was out getting our weekly diaper supply and such, I saw a potty and thought why not get it, Nika was 8 months old.
Her poop schedule was always rather on track, morning, afternoon and evening. The next morning I figured since I know she's about to poop, why not put her on the potty? So I did and for every morning after. To get her to poop, I put my hands on her knees and grunted, got her to grunt with me - sure enough it worked. By the time she was a year old, she'd actually grunt at me when she had to go, sometimes at spontaneous times but she'd still grunt. I was never forceful about the issue, needless to say, if she didn't want the potty, I wouldn't harass her with the idea, 'no' meant 'no', she was the boss.

When she was a year old, I got her a cloth diaper set which cost me over 150$, the only we get imported here to Russia, an overly priced Italian brand and I must say it's complete crap - bulky, messy, difficult to use: requires folding the cloth and putting a thin absorbant paper around it, putting all that into the diaper like cover on velcro, and putting that all n a wiggly Nika = hell! We didn't do well with those at all.

The thing is, by the time she had turned a year old, I basically knew that she had to pee every 30-40 minutes, so I just started offering the potty to her and she'd go, I'd help her pull her trousers down, and take off her diaper, help her sit, she wasn't walking at that point yet, I mean physically she was, just not an independent walker, she was unsure. What should one do really, if you know your child has to pee, why wait for them to pee in the diaper, right?

At that point Nika was wearing a diaper less and less, she was miserable in one and even putting one on her was a fight, scratching, screaming, crying (both me and her, heh). So at one point I just stopped putting them on her.

By 14 months, we had the potty schedule down to a notch, every 35 minutes, and poop twice, morning and after her afternoon nap. Accidents ranging between none and 3 a day. No particular reward system, lots of praising, running around with no diaper on was reward enough for her. It was a naked butt and babyleggs all the time, she loved it and became less cranky, much more active.


At 14 months I took Nika shopping, she got to pick out a set of cloth undies - there was no end to her happiness! From then on, she was a big girl, in cloth undies at home throughout the day and diapers at night, she'd still wake up wet in the morning even though I changed her twice at night.

By the time 16 months rolled around, she got the idea that she didn't really have to pee every 40 minutes and figured out that she could hold it in for an hour or more.. more accidents happened as she started experimenting with waiting to go potty for longer, but that lasted for 2 weeks or so, soon enough she basically started telling me when she needed to go by grunting or saying 'pee-pee'. Since she'd remain dry for an hour or hour and a half, we even started going out for our morning walk in cotton undies, with spare clothes in case of an accident, those seldom happened.



I even have this random pic, this was the first day we went out in cotton undies, her jeans fell down as she was all over the place at the park, I snapped a pic for memory's sake:

At 18 months, I realized that in the middle of the night (my sleep schedule is insane, I go to bed at about 3 or 4), before she pees she actually wakes up, tosses and turns and says 'pee-pee', to my horror, within a week of me realizing this and panicking, you know a case of 'what do I do, do I put her on the potty, wait it out..', we had also just paci weaned so she was restless in her sleep.

I plucked up the courage and started putting her on the potty when she'd wake up like that, she'll pee, roll off the potty and go back to sleep. This would happen twice at night.

By the time she was 18 months, we weren't using diapers anymore, sometimes accidents at night were a pain, accidents at home were a mess, other times accidents outside were embarrassing, but for the most part, neither of the above were as bad as having to deal with the fight that came along with putting a diaper on - by that time putting on one her was close to impossible and I wasn't going to use physical strength to restrain her, which meant it was bye bye diapers for us.

At a little over 18 months, she started being much more independent about the potty, she'd put her trousers and undies down and sit down, or would bring me the potty if she wanted help, or run up to me saying 'potty'.

At almost 2, and even though it was nipping cold outside, almost 0 degrees, when we did go out, she went out without a diaper, I was that confident in her, we just didn't stay out for prolonged periods of time, not more than 2 hours, and she stays dry. At night she doesn't wake up for the potty anymore, only sometimes.

We go out to malls, cafes and restaurants and even though at first I was a little nerve wrecked for accidents, she always made me so proud, so that's our story, just to show that sometimes circumstances permit an 'out of the box' approach and that guidelines towards potty training aren't always rules, sometimes it's okay to do your own thing, in our case doing things our way was right for us.


At 3 years old, I forgot what my child even looks like in a diaper. Accidents minimized to nothing, seldom if at all wakes up at night - I'm proud of her!

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Not the shape of my heart.

Let's go back and be honest.

So, January and February are always difficult for me. 

For various reasons. I guess it's mostly because I remember what it was like standing there, and taking a decision that I thought would be for the rest of my life. The emotional adrenaline rush and investment - that's not something that one just forgets about and moves on when things don't work out. When agreeing, I never thought I'd have to go back on my decision and never for a moment considered .. I guess I was convinced it'll all be 'happily ever after'.

I have no regrets, really. It's frustrating and upsetting today, looking back at that life and realizing that although sometimes I felt like a fish beating against aquarium walls and in all honesty, I wasn't ready for such a commitment at all but regardless - the safety, comfort, luxury, attention and care, it was pretty amazing, contrasting my life today to a point of where I'm starting to wonder how I'm even able to keep sane these days. Except for love, everything was in place, in the right place - but no love.

I envy myself, I suppose. The 'then' me. Maybe it's because life, in comparison with those days, is just so difficult that that time of my life seems like a surreal carefree fantasy.

I hate waking up at 6am. I despise having to rush off before my toddler wakes up, so she wouldn't see me leaving and thus get upset. I rush home on the dirty slippery snow at lunchtime, often skipping lunch altogether just to see her and take her out for a walk - only to soothe her as she bursts into tears upon the realization that I have to leave again. I hate where I live. I can't believe how I had taken for-granted, when I was told that if I wanted to, I could do anything, anywhere and any way I wanted. I'd love to be able to look at only the latest trends and pick out an outfit and not go on rampages desperately searching for my size on sales, or to look at things I know I'll never be able to afford again with awe, shopping in itself has become more traumatic than fun, especially over the course of the last year or s when financial difficulties really hit.

I'd almost sell my soul on the spot (..yes I am sure that I do have one!), if I were told that I could have that exact life today. I'm just that weak. I don't want to struggle anymore, I just want to live, I don't have the strength to' survive' anymore. The logical little being in me reassures me that there's no way that life could get more difficult, it's just that bad already and it must only get better, but I'm just too sad and tired to wait, it's as if each day I wake up a little more weak, one day I'm afraid I'll no longer have the incentive to even start my day. I can't help but wonder, what did I do then to deserve all that and what don't I  do now? I've only become better as a person, if anything I was quite rotten back then.

Back then, I left for a reason, I know this, I remember. All the happiness and good times now seem nothing but a  bittersweet memory because I also know there was a frightening truth lurking there. Everything was  just so beautiful on the exterior, a part of me refused to believe that hideous things could have been lurking beneath the surface, but they were and thus I left, I never once turned around - that's how adamant I was that I must leave. 

I admit that I got my some of old jewelry out the other day, spent the whole day wearing a ring and some earrings, just to see what it feels like. This time less reluctantly than the last. Most of the females gushed about how gorgeous the set was, and asked if it was new, I replied 'no' - in confusion each one asked why I hadn't worn these before. I don't know why. I had already previously worn a thing or two, much more reluctantly than this time (took me a day to pluck up the courage). I remember a girl grabbing ahold of my hand and looking at the ring, saying how great it was - I felt shy and awkward and suddenly as if it shouldn't even belong to me. Actually, most of that stuff seems borrowed now.

Back then, I was gleaming with all sorts of vibrant hope. I had so much opportunity for all kinds of dreams, and just so much hope - now it's out of desperation that I say 'things will be alright, I'm okay'. Some days, I'm terrified I'll no longer believe this, and if I don't .. 


I don't know why I do this to myself. I guess everything I have going on right now, both the good and bad -  I consensually agreed to but it's just .. okay you know what, I cry now too, actually more often that I care for, too often. But..

Back then, I used to cry all the time, nobody knew about that as had they known, they wouldn't believe me anyway.

*Sigh*

Tasha
Meh. Mmmkay. I guess. Meh again.
 ----------------
Today is the 15th of January. I don't feel that great. At all. Take me away? 
Oh and it's snowing, I'm too broke to shop myself into happiness and my kid is bored and restless *kills self*.
 ETA: 15th Jan.
1st Feb.
Feb 28th. - These are days I need to live through this year, and forget about. 
May 6th.
July 15th 
August 21st.


 
 

"Your super skinny and it doesn't look good AT ALL...Just sayin..."

Got the above gem through my formspring account.

How much do you weigh, pray tell? 120, 140? More? Less? I don't care, because I don't judge the way you do. Shall we talk about what's more relevant - the body fat percentage?

"Your" super skinny? 'My' super skinny what? Arm, leg, left ear?

However if you mean 'you're' super skinny - I'm not.

Hate to break it to you, but I'm a pretty attractive size. I am absolutely thrilled with being this size and wouldn't change it at all, but I am in fact hoping to tone up a few muscles here and there. Which *gasp* will make me smaller.

*Gasp* Because toned abs are pretty disgusting, aren't they?

I roll my eyes at your general, and possibly overweight existence.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

3












This day, 3 years ago, between 8 and 9am I realized I was in labour and by 10 I was ready to get admitted into the Labour and Delivery ward. By midday, it had become evident that by the end of the day, I'll have my baby, and I did.

Nika is that little star in my life, that gives me the strength and incentive to get out of bed for work, even when running on less than 2 hours of sleep. Who makes me think twice about each and every decision I take. Parenting is amazing, it's a privilege and I'm so grateful, but maaan does it get frightening sometimes. I'm never alone as I always have Nika but.. her birthday is such mixed feelings for me. It's difficult being a single parent, but I would not change this decision for anything.


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Monday, January 10, 2011

The Gray

I have been living in metropolis-cities ever since I turned 16.

The inevitable truth is, I wish I could blame certain things or people for that sole reason - a metropolitan mindset, you know "my own shirt is closest to the body", lack of empathy, sympathy.. values and morals in people, and say that cities reek of people's peril, caused by other people. That's not true though, there's more.

The small island and its corruption, its 'dust under the rug' attitude and the generally accepted 'what's not talked about, didn't happen' - so if you say nothing, it doesn't matter how horrible the deed at hand is/was - it just did not happen.

On the other hand, this is me being a hypocrite, as regardless of my opinion of certain places, clearly, living there suited me just fine at the time for one reason or another.

However, let's talk about Moscow. Moscow turns you bionic, and if it doesn't, then it breaks you or drives you into catatonia. I've been through all three of the above.


Everything would be easier, had it all been black or white - right or wrong, good or bad. Alas, no. Suddenly you're stuck in a gray twilight, questioning all sorts of things.

Now, you wonder.. is your boss pushing you a little too hard to go out for celebration drinks, and was his arm around your waist completely uncalled for? Will it affect your career because he'll dub you unsocial, or was it initially more malicious than that? Are you paranoid or cautious?

The guy who you had once deemed a good person and enjoyed working with, adamantly and shamelessly comes on to you despite knowing that you are in a relationship - do you vote this off as an out-of-character error of judgment from his side, and continue working with him, thus giving him a second chance, and what if this second chance leads to something worse? Who's to blame then? You for being naive to believe good people make mistakes? Will it matter?

When you're so broke, that you're ready to borrow money from a friend, a close friend.. yet you're suddenly wondering if that friend is going to demand the money as well as a pound of flesh in return. Also, the happier you are, the more friends you lose - why is that? Why do people thrive off misery and reject happiness when it comes to someone else. 

You stare at the figures and sentences - this is information you are not supposed to see, you can go either way, it's not ethical that you're working with this information whilst surrounding people are under the pretense that you are doing a completely different thing, and man, are you under-paid, so what do you do? Value the hours and money you've got, considering these are something you wouldn't have at all or take the less noble route and shamelessly demand more? Because frankly, at the moment, you are so freaking broke that it begs for a round of applause, as it takes talent to drive oneself into such a rut.

This year is going to be so difficult. But yet, as I dug my face into my boyfriend's shoulder today, and reassured him that I was okay, a part of me really does believe that it's impossible for life to continue to be so difficult, it has got to get easier. It has to.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Friday, January 7, 2011

Imagine this, imagine that..

You're running, but it's really dark so you can't really tell where you're going. You're going so fast that all you can do is hope that the path you're on is clear enough for you not to trip over anything or fall - because you cannot afford to lose pace. You feel yourself running out of breath, and your chest hurts. Your throat is so dry, you are starting to cough. You long to stop or at least slow down but know that you cannot, because albeit you don't know where you are and where you are going, you're sure of one thing - something or someone is after you, and it's so close you hear its footsteps, as it follows you. It's difficult to figure out whether it's just one thing following you or several because the steps are heavy and fast and if you think too much, you will slow down and it'll catch up with you. And if you take the time to look back, that's all the pause it needs to trap you.

You are certain you are breathing too loudly, and even if you get away far enough to be safe, it'll be easy to find you. Upon this thought and the realization that there is no way of saving yourself, you want to scream, out of fear or for help, both.. but you have no voice. In fact, there is no sound around you, you are unable to make any noise, thus there's just the sound of your loud breathing and the footsteps following you. You try to clench your fists, clearly losing pace and draining of any endurance, but your wrists and hands feel too weak. Your body starts turning cold and and ability for motion involuntarily dissolves but you feel as if it's being taken. You stop in your tracks and drop to your knees, covering your face in fear, waiting for the worst to happen to you. Embracing the fact that it is about to, preparing yourself.

Then suddenly, three seconds of dead silence later - a gush of relief, as nothing happens. It takes all the possible courage you possess to uncover your face, to look. Maybe face the demon lurking there?

There's just glass around you. Trapped. It's a cubical solid glass cage. The outside - darkness. Such thick glass, you beat against it, there is a lot of bleeding - knuckles broken, palms bruised. Shoulders fractured, knees shattered, ankles aching. Face burnt, from the seemingly acidic tears you had been shedding. And like that it all continues, until you are a mere hopeless shell of something that used to be human.

And then, when you have no hope left, you turn to face the demon you know has been lurking there, no sense in fighting anymore, at his command and in absolute despair, you stand in place, motionless. Mind not knowing what it feels like to die, you live again, through the worst pain you've felt in your life.

White flash. Silence. Sounds..noise. Dark.

You stare up at the ceiling and force yourself to recognize the outlines of the objects that you see. Familiar? You take deep breaths and summon up courage to speak, just to make sure you have a voice. Bad dream.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

ayy how did you survive the holidays. you have a New Years resolution?

Still surviving them until the 11th! My resolutions:
-Do not repeat the previous years' mistakes, or at least try not to.
- Patience is virtue, and true love happens only once - imperative to remember.
- Pre-preg. body, I demand it back
- I have learn how to do something new, be it cooking, French, knitting or stripdance.
- Health = I'm 23, time to treat my body well as I'd like to live to be older than 33.
- Beauty = let's face it, nobody is born with it, I deserve to consolidate my time and finances in a way that I can treat myself to getting my hair and nails done as well as much needed facials.
- Last but not least, my toddler: she has to look back at this year next New Year's Eve and smile, and tell me what a great time she had!

I dare you!

Decisions, decisions.. Decisions!

In the words of Robert L. Asprin: "Not everything in life is funny", in the words of my toddler.. "Well, well, well...".


This year, everything is a decision I have to make.

My living arrangements. My job. My relationship. My toddler's upbringing. My friendships. My looks.
Where the hell do I start and how do I know I'm making the right decision? My life has gone from 'now what?' after making a decision to 'I have to make a decision, and then decide once again, 'what now'.'

It's difficult. Though January started off so perfectly. I have, despite my fears, decided to have high hopes for 2011. However, in all honesty, I'm starting this year off so tired, knowing how difficult the trek ahead is.. it's not easy to keep these hopes up high and have faith as well not to lose sight of love.

I'm also just a little sad. Maybe nostalgic? For reasons I don't understand. Maybe it's this time of year. Yet I'm happier today, then I was back then. I know this for a fact. Perhaps it's my way of finding emotional shelter, because I'm wide open in a shooting range .. and taking this kind of chance on someone is something I have never done and will never do again. It's an 'only now.. or never' concept. I hope it turns out to be 'now' and not 'never'. 

But, here it goes, I suppose. Wish me luck, and happy New Year!

2010: