When you look for sth here

Friday, 10 March 2017

What was it that I wanted to say

... is a perfect line when you think the beauty is in the talking. And each and every minute of every conversation with every human being should be filled with words.

The thing is, it shouldn't.
(majority of the people who know me would be in shock, reading this as for them I seem to be the essence of spoken words; well, I like talking, true, and I talk a lot... but the ones who know me really well, they know:)

As the best way to know if you're in sync with someone is to keep silent. Not forever, that would be dreadful. But for a minute, or two.
It worked for me.

Sadly, that didn't secure the happy ever after ending. What does, though? Appreciation of what you have, regardless? Maybe. But then, one ends up avoiding one's own reflection, which is quite a thing, on a long term at least.

I think you just should never stop trying. The moment you feel perfectly comfortable and 'used to', that moment is the snowball to finish line. And I don't mean feeling good. I mean stop trying.

So, my most up-to-date recipe for a successful relationship (bear in mind there's no 'long-term' reference here, so it might as well apply to few months as to few years as, who knows, to a half of one's lifetime) is this: test the silence and feel good with your own reflection in a mirror.

Simple, isn't it?:)

Disclaimer (did I mention talkativeness earlier?:) - I refuse to believe each relationship should be successful. I refuse to believe there's black and white approach when defining a relationship - in each one of them you'll find something good and something bad. If you want to keep it going, follow my recipe, that's all. If you don't, maybe it's for the best...

Saturday, 4 March 2017

Inspiration can come from everywhere

I'm looking at my screen, reading the 'Have an inspiring day' text I just got from a friend of mine. How to reply to something like that?
There are so many things I would like to do and so many I should do, and they hardly match today.

I could pretend I'm not here but that won't stop the world bothering me. Obviously, if it did, I would complain even more. All this 'I want to hide and cry over my life' attitude is a show-off. As I 'm truly grateful for all that bothering I get, for each and every MumMumMumMumMum I get. Because in 10 years' time I will miss it. A lot.

So, deep sigh and off I go. How inspiring loading a washing machine can be:)?
And then it hits me. What if there was no kids clothes to load that machine with... Would I be that pretentious over-intelectual individual with sour soul and a grimace replacing a genuine smile (in fear of wrinkles)?

20 minutes later. Working on a document (reading other people's bios can be inspiring or depressing, depending how you look at it), I have a rare opportunity to see my team colouring a picture, hand in hand, in perfect harmony (that moment, and I really mean a moment as it won't last long, the moment is truly amazing). And then my Mini-Man says: 'I need a piece of paper to draw you a picture, Mum'. 3 seconds later he comes with something that makes me think he is some kind of Picasso, but starting from the end of Pablo's career and going backwards. The picture is clear and precise but abstract at the same time. 'It's a sad monster', says the artist and hands me his latest masterpiece. Before I manage to thank him, the LMSP comes, glances at the paper and immediately says: 'It looks like a dead plant with a mouth.' There. Each opinion matter. Some more cut-through than the others.

The artist seems to be oblivious to the deadly critique and comes back a minute later with another result of his creative work. 'And this is an angry monster.' LMSP looks at it and comments: 'How can it be an angry one. It has a baby face.'

And the world stops. When I realise an 8-year old knows babies are never angry... Something I wasn't aware of until not so long ago.

Thursday, 2 March 2017

We are reading

The Book Week

Yes, it's the world books' day today but at some places, including my monsters' school, they extended it to the whole week. So it's a full 5-day celebration of the written word. And the joy it brings to our lives if only we let it in.

Also, this is the first week in the last 52 we kind of blend in.
When the little one's being devastated we have nothing to read on the bus (10-minute journey, a.k.a. eternity in his opinion; with special relativity theory being in place for 112 years now who's going to argue with him about it? Certainly not me), like he was this morning, we're blessed with genuine smiles and semi-adoration from other passengers.
In truth, we are also slowly making progress on the let's-be-polite-and-use-our-library-voices-shall-we route. Which helps.
 By the way, realising the fact that a concept of a library voice is clearer than a concept of an indoor voice for a not-so-typical 3.5-year old, realising that is both amazing (that's me) and slightly intriguing (some unfulfilled psychologists, maybe).
Not to mention, it is another example of blending.

Actually, we look almost 100% normal.

Looking forward to a singing week now. As then we will be again a perfect illustration of a casual modern family, strolling down or up the hills in a park. With me singing quietly the shape of you, the SpiderGirl creating her own song. And the Mini-Man, crying his heart out for 3 kings who were riding the bumpy, bumpy road, regardless of seasons.