BIG BRAIN
We are at our pediatrician's. Lot's of toys in the waiting room. Some magazines for parents, too. Lev is done with playing beads on the table, and now he's looking for smth else. He takes a TV Giude from the stand and comfortably sits down with it on the floor. Pages through the mag. Looks totally fascinated. I am fascinated too: so young and so occupied with printed production! The next moment he tears out the page with a crossword puzzle.
"He's going to do the crossword", says someone.
Some day he probably will.

- posted by ET @ 10:45 AM

 
Linguistic excercises

I got it all wrong with Italian: I thought the word "kaka" my baby likes so much meant persimmon in Italian. But it doesn't. There's the word "kaki" for it. "Kaka" means something different.

We came to Italian Consulate to apply for my visa. Lots of people in the line. The clerks are busy and grim. Lev spent most of his time walking around and checking the creases in pavement. When we came toward the window, I was holding him in my arms, because he was very restless and refused to sit in his stroller. When we approached the window he immediately saw something of interest and started pointing with his finger and saying: Kaka. The grim clerk started laughing, saying something in Italian to his mate.
"Why, what is it? Does it mean something in Italian?"
"Yes, shit!" said he and just went on laughing.
"Same in Russian", I said.
Probably Lev was very happy with the effect, because he kept saying the word on and on.
"That's right," said the clerk. "This is shit".
I guess he doesn't like his work...


- posted by ET @ 3:21 PM

 
Hello, Mr Shredder

My baby started pulling things apart and tearing paper. It's ok when it's an old magazine, but he was studying my Italian book today, and it's now missing a couple of pages. But there is always such thing as scotch. As far as I could see, now we don't need a shredding machine, even if we had some special documents to destroy. Just give them to Lev. He likes the rustling of paper so much!

My husband has been away for almost a week now. I thought I'd go crazy alone with the baby. But we were so busy (meeting friends, going to partks and keeping different appointments), that I did not even notice this week. Maybe evenings are the worst. But I checked out 10 films from Menlo Park Library, and that kept me busy.



- posted by ET @ 3:13 PM

 
That was a week! With my husband preparing and conducting some special tutorial at work, leaving at 8 in the morning and coming back at 10 at night, our family car having a dying battery, and me trying to renew my Russian passport and gather all necessary papers to apply for Italian visa (ASAP, because I am leaving for Italy on the 28th of August), with a jet-lag, and a cranky baby - I managed to live till the end of the week. Hey, it's Friday!
I prefer not to take my baby with me running errands, but when my husband is at work all day long I can't even think of the time without the baby. I am not that comfortable with sitters and money to hire someone for the time I am not actually working. So Lev was travelling with me this week.
On Wednesday, I had to work for 2 hours. I invited a 16 year old to stay with the baby. Gosh, it was me, not her, who was nervous! Trying to find right words for things I usually name in Russian: cracker, bibs, crib, diaper, etc. She was trying to help me express myself before I could think of the right word.
That Wednesday I had a terrible Kopfschmerz. I like the sound of this German word. It makes one feel how bad the pain really is. The English word headache doesn't have the smallest resemblance to what I experienced. I had it from the moment I opened my eyes in the morning. Six o'clock. But I could not fall asleep anymore. The sitter came, and I rushed to my car. I start teaching three new groups at the new place today. I have a map, and it's ok. I started the engine. It sounded kind of reluctant, but it was on! These three groups. All new kids. All parents - not to say expectant - but yes, expecting smth from me! And I am in the middle, playing a teacher, with my head cracking... Trying to sing, trying to be merry and enthusiastic (remembering that parents are not very sympathetic if their kids' teacher is sick). During the break I ran out of the room, and just walked along the short corridor, trying not to see all the faces around me, like an ostrich, trying to hide my head in sand, trying to shut the world out.
Then it was over. The last good bye. Did I say "See you LAST time" - instead of NEXT? Yes I did. Applause to Dr. Freud!
I am out, at last!
I put my heavy bag with toys at the back seat of our family sedan and plump down in the driver's seat. Turn the key... That sound. No va. No, please, don't do this to me. Let's try again. But this time there's no sound at all. No sound at all.
The battery is dead, that is for sure. My husband told me yesterday that it was dead and he had to give it a jump start.
I look at my watch. It's a quarter to 12. I told the sitter I'd be back around 11:30 - 12. I still have time. I can call a cab. It's easy. I just need a phone. I started towards the club entrance. But what about this monster ? Who's gonna drive it home? And how do I get to San Francisco to pick up my passport today? I am heading back to the car.
Let's check whether there are cables to give her a jump start. I look in the trunk. The green bag, looks plump. Here they are. Now I need a live car.
I go back to the club where I was teaching. The young receptionist looks up at me - polite: "Can I help you?"
There IS someone with a car. He's gonna help me. Sounds reassuring.
"Do you want jump start? Do you have stick? Then you could push it."
But first we try to get to the battery. I did not remember how my husband did it - but I'd rather I did, so I read the label in the trunk saying the battery was there. But we can't take the cover off. The robust-looking girl is coming for help saying she has been pushing her truck every morning during three months.
I get into the driver's sit. She give me instruction what to press, when to release. Too fast. I don't get it. But there's no other way, so I ask her to repeat it. She smiles: "I certainly will, you have to learn."
Now they are pushing me, and I am holding the clutch, with my stick shift set into the first gear.
"Now, release the clutch and turn the key", she cries from the back.
Reluctantly, I release the left foot - and voila! the engine is on! I can't believe my ears, but it's the humming of my car!

On my way home I still have this Kopfschmerz. I am waiting for the green signal when in my side mirror I can see the car on my left backing up. I have no energy to turn my head. Just wondering what's going on.
"Looks like you're having a rough day", I hear. The black guy, with a white smile.
"Yeah," I answer somewhat flattered, and smile. And it really makes me feel just a little bit better. He says something else - I can't hear because of the noise.
"What?" I ask.
He starts repeating it, but the green light is on, and we are moving. How amazing - someone just backed up to ask how I felt!
When I come home I leave an angry message at my husband's working phone. Around 2 pm I take acetaminoprophen and put my baby to bed. And plug my ears. Just need a break. I don't care whether the baby is sleeping, or crying. I just don't hear him. I am sleeping.



- posted by ET @ 2:32 PM

 
HATE NOTE
I am terribly jet-lagged after coming from New York. I hate my job and my self, but I have to go there tomorrow again. Maybe tomorrow will be better? I know I usually like it - teaching kids music. But today I dragged myself to San Mateo, looked at the babies there, with their parents or sitters, and I realized I hate it, just hate it. Isn't my own kid enough for me? Why should I carry this heavy load on my shoulders?
I got a complaint today, my manager says. But I don't even have energy to get upset. I know the woman who filed it hates me. Why's that? I hate her too! She is a former preschool teacher, now retired to take care of her two kids. Extremely beautiful, Chinese. Her kids are cute and well-behaved. I wonder what makes me hate her? Maybe her patronizing tone. But I guess it's just a professional trait - you have to speak like that when you deal with kids. But all preschool teachers I met can't switch to normal tone with adults. So I should not take it personally. But I still do.

I was so worn out today that I let my boy cry in his bedroom (not even expecting him to fall asleep), while I was lying on the bed exhausted. Why is it so hard on me? My 30 years should not feel like that. But it's always bad enough when you go from East to West changing time zones.

My husband is so busy at work these days that I feel like playing a single parent. I engaged friends and babysitters to stay with Lev while I work, I took him with me while running errands, and I even took him along to buy him a new carseat - he outgrew his infant one. My hands always feel full. So is my head.


- posted by ET @ 7:58 PM

 
Lev can now pull off his socks. And he does this when I put him to bed and leave alone in the room. But strangely enough he pulls off only one of the socks, which is exactly what his dad does - when relaxing in front of the VCR.
"Why did not you take the second one off, too? Did you forget?" I ask my husband.
He seems to be really surprised: "But this feels so comfortable."
Does it really? It seems there is complete understanding between father and son... I am left out...

- posted by ET @ 9:54 AM