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Dear Janek,

one thing is for sure: this world is crazy and so is the time. It goes way too fast, and you’re three months old today, and we’re going to blink twice and you will be one year old and running around. Something tells me you will be running quite fast…

I realise that I want to stop every day: I want you to stay as you are every day, please, stop getting bigger and bigger. I love everything about you, your smile, your eyes so bright and full of wisdom, your chubby legs, your big feet with catchy fingers, your hands with nails I have big trouble to cut, your punk hair, and your smell. I would write about your bum, too, but I don’t want to embarrass you just yet, dude.

This was a crazy month, half brilliant and half very hard, as these months go by. You rolled on your back and looked straight into my eyes surprised, amazed, asking. I smiled and clapped and congratulated you and gave you one of those big wet kisses on your cheek that hopefully you won’t hate too much in a couple of years. You’re so clever and so strong.

Your father often says he feels like you’re reading him- siting in your pilot chair, looking straight into his face, your eyes following his every move, slowly, seriously. After a while you smile a little bit, and you look away.

You start to laugh more, too.  Sometimes you’re confusing it with crying, it’s a joy to watch.

You’re a joy, happiness in a small human shaped form.

If there is one thing I want to teach you and assure you of and give you to grow with (and there’s milliards of those things, little fella, milliards and then some) - it is to give you a realisation deep inside of  you, that no matter what you do and how you do it- you are enough. Enough as you are, every day. The truth is- majority of our adults’ problems comes from constantly thinking we’re not enough.  Not enough pretty, smart, rich, famous, sexy, and confident.  I need to learn to think of myself as enough, so you don’t think I teach you some bollocks. This is the hardest part.

But for now, and for each new day in your life, know this: you are enough as you are, right now. Everything else you decide to do or become is just a bonus.

Love you so much,

Mama. 

ps. You know, sometimes I look on you and I still don't believe that you are mine, that you have grown inside me, that I gave a birth to you and still, my body makes yours grow each day.  Today I sang you when you couldn't fall asleep and you immediately calmed down. I was susprised and amazed by this but, shouldn't I know better? Shouldn't I know already I'm enough and we're best pals for life? Sleep tight.

lovehatelove

Hello and welcome from my yoga mat in the middle of the kitchen floor. Why yes, I'm getting sweaty and lean and stretchy every day now( or at least I hope I'm getting anything more than sweaty). My goal is to reach 21 days in a row, as apparently this is a number of days you need to do something in order to make it your habit. Whoever said that never changed a single nappy in his life.

Anyways. Today's post is inspired by two things. First of them happened to me and the second I've read after the first one happened. 

I took Janek to IKEA today- I needed to buy him some bumper pads as he stuck his chunky leg between bars and tried to move it and couldn't and moved it in a wrong angle and SCREAMED like I've never heard a human screaming before and my muscles shaked for nest half an hour I was so scared and he obviously forgot it all next minute. I also wanted to buy some shadow box frame to finally make the birthing day keepsake. Everything went fine, kiddo woke up in the middle of kitchens and looked around in wonder- so many lights, so many lights, sooo many lights, and he smiled, because I think lights on ceilings is his idea of heaven for the time being. And I picked up what I needed and I payed for it and he started to get a little cranky and I thought I'd feed him before we go home. Nursing room in IKEA is definetely the best I've been in so far and even smelled amazingly, so I put my tit out into Janek's mouth happily and he ate, ate, ate and made friendship with ladybird lamps on the wall and he finished eating and he burped. It was getting kinda hot in there, so I figured we'll better go out. And I tried to put kiddo into his pram. Forfuckinget it. This boy is not the biggest fan of prams in general, but this time he screamed almost as hardly as when he got his leg between the bars. Fuck, fuck, I took him out, checked if everything is ok, because it was unnatural for him cryio-scream. Everything seemed fine except he was getting louder and LOUDER. And he screamed like this for next 60 minutes and I'm not even joking. I tried everything, I changed his (clean) nappy, I failed to put the next one on because he would wriggle so much. Forget about it, there was not a single thing that would calm him down and I talked to him sweetly and I sang and I hugged and I tried to burp him and I made an aeroplane and I tried to put him back to pram and I took his trousers off and I sang some more and I kept on trying for 60 horrible minutes and I heard people talking behind the doors and I was surprised they don't call anyone to check on me, because it sure sounded like a baby is being murdered inside. Seriously. So I had no idea what to do and I started to cry, and we cried like this, until he stopped. I lost a couple of pounds worth of sweat, and tears. I've put him into pram and he didn't like it but after this marathon of crying he got kinda tired, so he gave up. And we walked off, we walked out from IKEA and into the streets and into the park on the way home and he slept and I was dreaming of smoking a fag, eating a fag, having a shot of vodka, anything. I felt brainwashed and drunk at the same time. We arrived home, I left him in pram and ate a bit of yesterdays curry, drank a cup of tea and when he woke up we were friend again. Kinda. 

Now you have to understand, that Janek is a GREAT AND LOVELY baby, he doesn't do crying and shouting. He cries, obviously, but it's 5 minutes a top, nothing hard, nothing I cannot deal with. I bow low to all of the parents who's children cry constantly or very often. I don't know how you do it, I think I would just DIE.

So then I had a 7 minutes nap on the yoga mat I'm currently sat on and I woke up feeling hangovered with the worst, couple of days drinking behind, hangover, and I'm sober for almost a year now. It felt bad. Zs came back from work and he took Janek into his hands and Janek LOOKED ON ME LIKE HE HATES ME. And I'm not joking, he looked on me like I WOULD DO SOMETHING HORRIBLE TO HIM. Obviously, I cried into wok full of onion( good excuse there, hey).

So this is a first thing. It was kinda long, right? Second thing is this blog post. The most important thing I've read about being a parent since ever. I will tell every person that is about to become a parent to read it. Really.

It's all about the fact, that parenthood is fucking hard and not funny 51% of the time. And that you're being told by everyone to enjoy EVERY MINUTE. Which is a load of bullshit. 

Because I've never felt as low, guilty, stressed, worried, humiliated, angry, weak as I've felt today in the IKEA's nursing room. And there is no way in the world I could possibly enjoy it. And while people and books and magazines will tell me to ENJOY EVERY MINUTE, I will feel more guilty and more anxious and more crap with every next situation like this. And when your kid looks on you like a stranger or enemy- well- that's just sweet, isn't it?

So screw it all. Be able to say YOU FUCKIN HATE ALL THIS everytime you hate it. It will free you. It will make you feel better. I realised today that this is the reason for majority of my sadnesses in last three months- that at times it is bloody hard and I don't want to carry on- and I'm told to be happy and cheerful- all the time. And I'm pretty sure there is not a single parent in the world who could say he enjoys it 100%.

And, obviously, most importantly, amazingly, awesomely- every storm has its end. And sunshine comes out and small birds start to sing and stars start to shine and your baby and you are in love. Really, don't get me wrong- I LOVE, love, love my son so much, I would do everything for him to be happy and sun-shiny forever. But I'm not able to do it. And it's much better to have a good cry and swear a lot about it all and appreciate the sun after the storm much more, cherish it like a million dollar lottery ticket( well that's just sad, isn't it) than to pretend it's all good and never lose your temper and slowly slowly slowly kill yourself every damn day. Until you explode. One way or another. It's better for everyone.

Grumpy does not cut it

After another evening of being grumpy and tired we lay in bed and Zsolt asked me: so what is missing in your life? And there was no answer, there was a silence. I said, after a while, something stupid like- power, strenght; Zsolt sighed quietly and told me yet again that I am stronger than I can imagine I am. I cried, but I thought- I know. This is true.

What is missing in my life?

I have amazing son, great partner, healthy family, good friends( not many, but those who are there are 'taller than giants'), I have a big talent( that I'm stupid enough not to use), I love in a great place, I have things to eat and drink and read and learn.

Okay, I'm so so tired, I feel like I'm in a prison( it's a kind of mental prison where my head seems to have a life sentence), I wish I could go for a holiday somewhere nice and hot or at least go home for a while.

But it's important to remember-all this is just a phase. I bet that in 20 years when I will be able to visit every damn beach in the world, I will be upset and I will think about time when my son's life physically was in my hands( and tits). Even in 10 years I will miss those days.

So from now on I will try my best to enjoy the place I am now. It's a great place( on a floor that needs a good hoover, between king sized bed with my man and usual sized cot with my supervisor). I sit here for a reason. I should be grateful for what I have, be more with it all instead of constantly looking back or forward or from above or from too close.

Be grateful. And give this flat a good hoover( it's great to have electricity!).

LGT

As some of you know, my partner was born and raised in Hungary. One of the best, the most legendary Hungarian bands is LGT. They were told that they could be better than the Beatles if only they sang in English. They never did.

So there I was, on a sofa, waiting for Janek to burp after he ate and Zs called me to check something on the laptop. And there is this song in a background and he posted the lyrics and he tried to translate them. Obviously none of us is an English translator and there are sentences and words and metaphors in Hungarian that you can't find in English, but there you go. 

It made me cry so much, so much. Zs took Janek away to another room because I was shaking from emotions. I love how he knows me and how he knows what gets me. 

Check it out, it's beautiful.

Arra születtem, hogy kisgyerek legyek,                 
s anyám mellett lassan játsszam az életet,
arra születtem, hogy felnőtt is legyek,
s megértsem a szóból azt, amit lehet,
s végül arra jöttem én a világra,
hogy elhiggyem azt, hogy nem vagyok hiába,
ah, ah, ah, ah,
Arra születtem, hogy megszeressenek,
s megszeressem én is azt, akit lehet,
arra születtem, hogy boldog is legyek
s továbbadjam egyszer az életemet,
s végül arra jöttem én a világra,
hogy belehaljak abba, hogy éltem a világban,
ah, ah, ah, ah,

I was born to be a child,

to slowly play the life next to my mother,

I was born to be an adult too,

to understand everything what I can from one word,

And finally I became to this world,

to believe I am here with reason,

ah, ah, ah, ah,

I was born to be loved,

and to love who I can,

I was born to be happy too,

and to give my life over once,

and finally I became to this world,

 to die because I lived in this world,

ah, ah, ah, ah,

 

2mo

Dear Janek,

you're two months old today. We're laying in bed, you just ate, we're listening to Radiohead; it's your first time and you seem to enjoy it.

You're growing like a mushroom everyday. You're getting smarter, cheekier, more aware of things and people. You're beautiful. Strong. You still wake up in horror but the next thing I know is how wide you smile.

You're so happy to see me that I have to pinch myself from time to time. There's absolute, love and trust in your huge diamond eyes; it's scary, it makes me teary, it makes my days.

It was a hard month for the whole family, we've had bad days, some bad words, some tears hidden and open. But what we do here is grow, we're growing in speed up mode and we’re learning, so we can become the best possible family.

You're the bestest member, obviously, with your teeth-less smile and all. And you don't need to know that some words doesn't exist, because you are them anyway.

I'm trying to get myself sorted, too. I'm only 24, and I think to myself day by day- what am I doing here? With you?

I owe you everything and I want to give you the best days and memories and books and words and pictures and bicycles. I want to guide you through horror days and I want you to know I'm here always.

It's exciting and overwhelming, too. I'm so tired. I'm so scared I don't give you enough of things, feelings, attention. It's scary because quite frankly nobody loved me like you love me now and you are 61 days old. You're just about grown out of the ground. I have to learn how to deal with it all.

Happy 1/6th of the year. I hope we will be bigger friends everyday. Love you to bits( even if sometimes I am not understanding it all, at all).

Yours FOREVER,

Mama.

Lift

I'm sitting on the floor and waiting for Janek to wake up for his first night feed. It’s so damn hot, isn't it? I can feel my body sweating and I just took a shower; I don't think it ever happened before in this country( since I'm here obviously). It reminds me of hot hot nights back at home. When you sit long after midnight on the balcony with your grandma and you just breath this warm and sweet( grandma had lots of flowers) air.

Today I exercised once again. The workout I do is by a very famous now Polish girl who slowly changes the way Polish women look and feel about themselves. Trust me, you hate her while you're on a mat, but as soon as you're done- you're in heaven. And then she says the crucial words: I am proud of you. You did amazing job today.

At this point I cry. Every single time. I just burst into tears.

It makes me think- how sad is this world? Where is this world going? If the only time you feel good about yourself is when somebody else tells you you did a great job. And if thousands of people follow the person who tells them every day: I'm proud of you, you're awesome( people started to compare this fitness instructor girl and all her fans to a sect) it gets all negative again.

I thought about it and about myself. And about myself and others. And about how much I can forgive others and how little I can forgive myself. It's just fucked up.

Of I look only on today I've done SO MUCH; for my son, for my house, for my man, for myself.

And I'm still beating myself up, I think it's not enough and I actually want people to say to me that I do everything great. And if its not great is good enough.

But the only person that should acknowledge this and say this is writing this damn post. Obviously it's nice to be appreciated but I remember we could cherish every thing my mum was doing every day and she was still unhappy. If you don't respect and believe in your job, who the fuck will?

Of course, it may all be so obvious it can become painful. But it's not on every day basis.

I would like to vow here to make Janek feel proud and awesome about things he does. And don't contradict this with a following sentence. (’Very nice drawing.
I wish your mother had an abortion.’)

You're awesome, I'm awesome. Today I feel proud.

at the end of which I eat a piece of chocolate

Last couple of weeks are hard. So hard. Very bad days change to strange days to better days and to very bad again. I'm not even sure how to write about it because I have problems vocalizing my feelings.

Since I became a mother all those things about me are just showing up every day- bang, pop, pow- things I didn't knew or didn't want to know about myself. 

I'm going from totally hating myself to feeling well about all of it in the matter of hours. Sometimes minutes.

It all looks so good and happy on the outside, inside of me there is a constant battle, I'm constantly telling myself I do things wrong or not good enough- and then, automatically, this is just what's happening. I start to make mistakes I could easily avoid.

And oh, god- everything is affected. My relationship, my friendships, my self-esteem more than ever and my kid. I feel awful but at the same time I need to know I have right to all this feelings. But at the same time I want to stop feeling them.

It's so hard it's even hard to say what ACTUALLY is happening. Because maybe it is all inside me?

I cannot wake up. I wake up and I cry because I'm so tired( no matter how long I sleep- and Janek is an extremaly good sleeper! He just wakes every 3ish hours to eat and falls back to sleep; ALWAYS). Takes me couple of nice minutes to get awake enough to realise that Janek is not hungry anymore( I try to catch more sleep and shovel my tit in his poor mouth)- he has gas and needs to be burped. It takes so much effort to actually come up and burp him- crazy. 

Day reveals itself, it's getting better until I feel I should be dressed already, I remind myself that the best days are days when we're out and about early. But no- I will drink a tea, feel crap about myself, spend another hour on my iPod instead of for example taking a shower or reading a book( Janek is napping at this point).

Somewhere then I panic- start to clean the house furiously, think what to cook for tea( by the way it took me 3 years in this country to realise what 'tea' means; haha! I was always like- what do you mean what I cooked for tea- biscuit?), get dressed, feed Janek, put the make up on, turn the washing machine, wash dishes, change Janek, write shopping list, feed Janek, put him into pram and we're out to the shops. 

This feels good, to be out- until Janek starts to cry- which he does rarely and I feel ASHAMED ( why the fuck do I feel ashamed that my child is uncomfortable!?) that I AM FAILING because my baby is crying BECAUSE I AM NOT GOOD ENOUGH. And I don't know what's wrong. 

But he doesn't cry much( trust me, this boy is an angel and I should be grateful forever, I would probably die with all those feelings if I had a cry baby) so we do the shopping, I spend much more money than I should because there is always a magazine or a nail polish or whatever that needs to go in as well ( WHY!?).

We get back, I feed J, I cook a bit, he hangs around on his chair, if he sleeps he sleeps if he is awake I feel guilty the same second I notice that I don't spend enough time with him.

Guilty guilty guilty. Fuck. My brain is fucked.

There are days when I just run around him and I'm not happy at all and I don't feel any joy from any of it.

There are days when every time he smiles at me I cry from happiness because he obviously loves me so much and is happy here and I make myself ask questions: why do you love me, baby? Why are you happy? I don't do anything for you. I definetely don't do enough. What do you do with 2 months old? What do you do with baby that's one year old? How will I know? ( See, now I know all those questions are so stupid, but once I feel them it's a different story.)

There are moments, short moments, when I feel so proud he is my son and I feel so good about myself, too- very short ones- in Starbucks when he talks to me and smiles and I look nice in pink dress and I feed him and kiss him and people are passing and they smiling to us; in a lift when he cries his heart out and the lift is full but I still make everyone laugh a good laugh and J stops to cry and then we're home.

Everyday I keep thinking that I'm not good enough and that I should sort myself out first before actually having a baby. Everyday.

It's all so chaotic, I'm sorry( to whom? I write it for myself, I put it out there because maybe someone will have some advice). I cry every day.

I googled too much of postnatal  depression and 'adult child of alcoholic' syndrome and all this and I should stop because in the same way I probably have a cancer already. I refuse to take any kind of drugs anyway. Because it's all inside me, see? I know it. Every day I see it and I'm scared it will go to my son- and I want the good things to transfer, not all this. Why do I need people's permission all the time? Why do I want people to feel sorry for me?Why do I care what they think? Why I AM SAYING SORRY EVERY DAY MINIMUM 265421 TIMES( sorry I'm passing here with my pram, sorry I'm on your way, sorry I wanted to get out of the lift first before you got inside, sorry my kid is crying, I'm sorry I look for money longer than 3 seconds, sorry I couldn't pronounce this word properly, sorry I'm here)? Why do I need their advice about my every step? Why I forgive them so much and I treat myself so harsh?

I kind of knew all of it about me before but it's since I became a mother it all goes out to the surface. Ok, it has something to do with hormones but I refuse to throw the blame on them because I really know they're not everything. It's easy, too easy to say: yah yabadi yabada it's my hormones, whatev.

There's so much work to do on myself, but where to start? ( Oh, there's chocolate.)