Bananas

I hate the taste of bananas now that I am in my 30s. The only way I can convince my taste buds to accept this fruit is by commanding them to go back in time to the prehistoric events of growing up in the former Soviet Union. Growing up we didn't have bananas and visit to the grocery store, especially in the winter, didn't yield any tasty results except for some occasional onions, beets and frost bitten apples eroded by worm tunnels. It was wonderful to be walking down the street with my mom and come across a long line of people. We always joined the line before we even found out what was being sold... a line meant something delicious would be at the end of it. I was excited about standing in line, the longer the line the better. Bananas were always the greenest color of green and you knew that you probably had to wait another week or two to sample them. We would put them under the bed in the paper bags and every day I would pull each individual bag early in the morning to see if there were touches of gold on any of the jungle green colored fruit. The moment streaks of yellow touched the bananas, I was begging my parents to eat the fruit that tasted grassy, but oh so exotic and delicious! I try to take myself back to those times when I eat bananas now (perfectly ripe, sweet, organic bananas), but I can only muster enough memory lane imagination to get me through eating half of a banana.

Getting Grumpier and Grumpier as the day progresses

I am not one of those people who can put a positive spin on everything... I so wish I were. Sometimes I meet these people who always look cheerful, upbeat and super friendly and I have the uncontrollable urge to splatter some reality all over them. I want a real person with real emotions, not the Barbie or Ken stamped with a mass-produced plastic smile.

I do measure everybody by my standards, because what other measuring tool/system is there? I am square and I do think inside the box. Is that so bad? I am very responsible. If I said I would get something done, I will get it done even if I have to work 24 hours a day. I would not be able to sleep as this will be bothering me worse than if I were wearing the itchiest woolen underpants. I get so irritated when someone is not only irresponsible, but cheerful at the same time... how the hell do you put a positive spin on your own unreliable carefree actions?

I know I am not supposed to blog about work... but God Almighty, can you punish (just a little) these airheads?

Newly Single and Grumpy

Well, my husband is away on a business trip and I have to manage three kids that are used to being a part of a two-parent household. It is hell, let me tell you! All three, but especially my youngest, have no patience. I mean it, no patience at all! The concept of waiting for something is foreign to Sofia. If she wants it, it has to be done immediately or else the chandelier and the china cabinet will start shaking from the ultrasound my daughter is able to squeeze out of her vocal cords. I have to shower in the morning, but how does one do it with a 16-months old sleeping in my bed (she migrates from her crib into our bed by midnight every night.) I have to very quietly and very quickly wake up Masha (not an easy task to accomplish even when you can take your time and be as loud as you need to be.) Then Masha needs to take my place in the bed quietly and I can go shower and pray to God that Sofia does not discover the "mommy swap." She is too smart to buy into this and will immediately put the siren on. Have I mentioned that I hate my husband right now?

Reinventing oneself

I am at the crossroads now... my wonderful stable job is just not enough anymore, so I need to get creative and figure out how I can satisfy myself and the demands of my family at the same time. I still need to keep my income as I now realize it is a great gift in this economy. I am bored out of my mind though and I want to do something more to just keep my mind interested or else I am at risk of slipping into a puddle of depression doo-doo. I have been contemplating writing a book (hold your comments, it will be in Russian of course!) and I have several scenarios/plots swirling and twirling around my brain (and finding comfy corners to rest/mature.) I need to spend some more time thinking through what would keep me occupied and away (justifiably for once) from having to do the dishes...

Family

You don't want to see what goes on in our house in the morning when all of us are rushing around and are trying to get ready. It is a complete chaos! Kids running to eat breakfast, grab lunches, get ready... the diaper is being changed... the teeth brushes... the doors are slamming.... I am screaming at my husband who is nonchalantly sitting in front of his computer completely oblivious to what else is going on... Today grandma witnessed the horrifying tornado resembling action and tuned right in by screaming at the top of her lungs at how disorganized the kids were, how they needed to prepare everything the night before, how all other kids were fantastic beings(punctual, clean, good students, loving grandkids, so unlike hers...)... My 9 year old daughter Masha turned to Grandma and in her most calm composed voice sympathetically stated: "We are just not that kind of family."

Sharks Rule!

Even Sonik is watching! Sharks are kicking major butt this season. I could never imagine that a new coach could make such a difference. Amazing! The end of second period against Calgary Flames, Sharks are dominating 5:0! Anton and Dad are super excited! The women are a little more even tempered when it comes to hockey, but we (Masha, Sonik and I) think that Sharks jerseys are the best in the league (the teal with white and black looks chic, no?)

Observation

I have a lot of friends that are not parents yet and are longing to have children. When we meet they are fast to run towards my baby girl, completely ignoring my 9 and 10 year olds... The baby is showered with attention, affection and admiration. Wherever the baby goes, she is followed by a swarming buzzing crowd of females... yet the two older kids are mostly turned into disappointed audience, there to witness these spontaneous pagan ceremonies of limb worshipping ("cute tiny feet...look at the sweet little fingers..."). Nobody has ever come up to me and said: "I want me one of those" (pointing at the two older kids.) Why? I love older kids! You can already theorize what type of people they will become... you can see the traits they inherited... they have some scars and bruises, and yet they are still so innocent...

Snoring

Unlike most, I love Vadim's snoring... monotonous waves make me feel at peace and help me drift into sleep better than anything else. Is it the suggestive nature of snoring? I am not sure, but I just cannot stay awake once the first unsteady wild boar like snorts of sleepy husband hit my ears. Is there a technique out there that has a reverse effect to counting sheep?

Happiness

I am so happy right now... with all the things going on and despite health, financial, emotional, communication and weight issues... The truth is I am just now learning how to be happy and actually understand it. I am at peace now just lying on my sofa with my feet cozily tucked under my hubby's behind typing this silliness with some corny Russian TV playing in the background... hubby looking at stocks in search of some juicy new stock we could sink our teeth into (well, more like one last remaining tooth...) Signing off now to spend some time with the love of my life.

Sibling Rivalry

My two older kids born only a year apart can be prototypes for psychology textbooks dealing with a million different psychological problems, with sibling rivalry being at the top of the list. Both of them have taken this to an art form...

Example from this morning... We are all rushing around trying to get out of the house on time... My daughter's brain is of course is in its normal gear (how to get under her brother's skin and appear to be a victim in the process.)

- Mom, did you take cookies to work? (Looking at the plate of cookies that I baked last night... with some clearly missing as of this morning...)
-No... HURRY UP!
(Masha is standing around, her brain neurons are firing.)
- Hmmmmm.... Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad, did you take the cookies?
- Mash, are you packed? Get in the car NOW!
(Sherlock Holmes' hypothetico-deductive method clearly worked for my little detective with an attitude.)

-MMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOMMM! Anton took the cookies! He always takes the cookies... You never tell him no... He can eat whatever he wants... He can eat as much as he wants... He gets everything he wants...I never get anything... He is never in trouble... I am always in trouble...

- (Interrupting the tirade).... GET IN THE CAR NOW!