rooting for the roots

so here I am again, back to the old country, the old hometown and bringing my kids along to see its magnificence. The visits have been stressful in the past for multiple reasons but being a relatively unhappy teenager and quite angsty young woman could have something to do with it.

in those long intervals when building my new home elswhere, raising two American boys and reconnecting with my American husband over the years really brought me to a much better place and I have became something quite unexpected (probably only to me): an American.

It turns out it takes about 15 years in exile, two children, one dog, anywhere between 9 and 4 chickens and above all one stubborn husband to really become at home in a newly acquired culture.

The process was slow and but palpable as I get reminded of it frequently when strangers eventually ask that one ubiquitous question they must ask 'where are you from?' whenever our conversation exceeds the minimal one sentence. I have had used the old home country code forever. First as my real identity, then out of habit, and lately as some form of excuse, giving myself a benefit of doubt, to not to judge: I just come from a different culture, dude.

So it came to me as a bit of surprise when I started using Portland as my home address. The feeling around this realization was a feeling of relief an happiness because yes, it is an immense relief to settle down and be done with cultural divide. Plus we built a beautiful home in Portland and love the city for its enthusiasm for simpler life, biking, local foodism, urban chicken keeping with the bonus of gorgeous nature and kind inhabitants.


there may be a little finer cultural shift in my personality that really wanted this to happen and it has to do with something so profoundly american as its pie; the healthy ego and selfesteem and assertiveness and other forms of intorspection, such as treating oneself well, accepting oneself and respecting oneself that I must have acquired along the way.

There are as many words for self-esteem in English as they are words for potato in Slovak or snow in Eskimo. If not more. Much of the self focused growth that i needed i made for happier self so I am content and able to fend of constant judgment that my slovak inheritance is so full of.

One inevitable sideproduct of this individualistic selfabsorbed growth is that it makes for more isolated livng at least in the short run, I think. For example, it has become a complete surprise to me NOW for the first time ever to think about why do I still keep relatioships going that so clearly are not very pleasant and don't particularly add anything positive to my life. the american self is rooting for cutting off these ties that have never been fun or fruitful while the slovak self is terrified of loneliness and the loss of the long history I had with some of my more torturous friends and the closeness that somehow people feel when they are with the enemies who were around forever. Kidn of like family members.


rambling rambling for the sake of own understanding of all of this. 'There is no need for excessive nostalgy other than some neurotic subproduct of selfdoubt'; the american ego says while the slovak ego stares blank and mutters 'huh ?'.

a letter for Sashi

it is the first day of spring and what a great way to mark the 2 and half birthday. Convenient as I have enough excess energy to remember this important milestone. It has been a busy half year with a major start in preschool that finally made Sashi realize that home=boring and somewhere else=fun. We will never know how much of this early independence is a personality and how much the second child raising practice but we are bursting with pride and love to see the little dude make it out there by himself, conquering the hearts of teachers and other dudes and dudettes at the school.

Just yesterday when I was feeling somewhat guilty about not having any ideas or art project lined up (silently giving in the TV entertainment), Sashi comes to me with a piece of colorful paper and crayons and tells me that it is time to do a drawing and here are the tools and can you mama please get off that computer?

If that doesn't shape me in a better parent instantly I don't know what will. A child who has a project, tools and initiative and interest in involving that one adult who is inept at this thing called fun parenting.

The day ended up being one of the best I remember. It was so pleasant, in fact, that I skipped the nap routine, not to upset the balance and harmony of things.

There are harder days when it is difficult to get out and listen to that annoying parent who thinks that shoes need to be put on socks and not other way around and that jacket is useful when it hails. Not mentioning that headache of having an older brother whose schedule is significantly more rigid and we absolutely need to be places on time. It's been hard but Sashi, the dude, is really making an effort and the resistance or tantrums are short lived, for which I will be eternally grateful and I am willing to provide an unlimited supply of chocolate milk in exchange.

One thing I regret is not having charged camera when Sashi picked a shovel of a larger proportion and spend long time laboring along with bryan to set the rain garden drain. He was serious and determined. there is really not that much that can frustrate the little dude. I remember going to this one coffee house where he tried to hang his coat. Unsuccessfully, but man did he try. Over and over and over until the couple of young kids, sitting at the next table, dying from a quiet laughter gave him a hint of using his hood. there was zero frustration and the coat was up and child was waiting for his pastry.

the biggest frustration ensues when I try to help and there is no bigger threat to his intentions than me saying '.... otherwise mama will help.'

we love you Sashi and happy half birthday!

good half of the year

when I was getting ready to resign over the even years being the tough ones, at the turnpoint of boys turning 6.5 and 2.5, things are unexpectedly turning to better. a turning turn of the turn point.

First Sasha started preschool without any crying or resistance, which was a major win and relief of my much anticipated anxiety. I was dreading the possibility that he was going too early considering his age, lack of potty training and incoherent language. So far so good and we hope it lasts. We also try to converse more which is met by ignoring or uttering his code word 'red' as an answer that should satisfy any intruding adult. A sad statement about our verbal connection with our second born.

Nico is in a happy stage in the winter quarter when friends are plentiful as he is gaining much confidence in video gaming and to our biggest surprise and joy, his playing piano. I credit the 'dude' Peter for the piano fun. That young man connected with Nico in a way that Nico considers playing music a worthwhile activity and even whines when the class is cancelled. The result is a pretty happy boy with only occasional morning whine. The martial art gig is also getting less stressful and more fun for him, although I have second thoughts about its military subtone and really stupid reward system. So, we get long dinner conversation and much sharing, a stark contrast to the discouraged ego due to the summer sports like soccer that he was not a fan. I consider the failures a good learning experience so no regretts there but it made our life a little more complicated by random rage and discontent.

the major sickness season is upon us and that is energy draining but to be expected. While Nico lies down and spends most time sleeping or quietly getting over his sickness, Sasha must finish building that train track in between the bouts of vomiting and regardless the dizziness from high fever and other physical misery. I wish we could harvest this energy but so far it just drains ours. We do kiss those flush cheeks and regress in bedtime routine by sleeping with the sick boy and in general comfort more.

of course, this could also be attributed to my psycho meds which will be tested in the days to come when I inadvertently forget to take.

the inauguration talk at the bedtime

me: I am so happy about Obama's inauguration, it is a very important moment for me.

Nico: I liked playing Spore today. Kids cannot vote.

me: Obama will make many people happy with better choices for economy and fewer wars.

Nico: Economics is like making money and politics makes war. military is great. regilion is like telling people what to eat and they will eat it.

me: oh yeah?

Nico: and if you have enough money, you should do some entertainment. That will make people happy.

I guess I can just stop trying to educate and let the Spore take care of the rest.

The end of it? really?

I have been struggling with moderate-to-sever chronic middle back pain since my mid 20s. I was keeping it successfully in check with yoga and exercise. I did MRIs, numerous doctor visits, spend fortune on frequent massages and towards my mid 30s I started to accept the fact that the pain will be with me for the rest of my life and all I can do is to have fun with the activities that keep me pain-free.

Then I had a curious experience of getting significant release of my back pain in my therapy session. The experience was registered by mentioning it to Bryan as something 'crazy' but I didn't give it much further thought. The next revelation came to me during my yoga classes where I started noticing that the most relief I got was during meditation rather than after the poses that are supposed to strengthen the muscles that support my prematurely aging spine. I started thinking that the pain was neurological in nature rather than a skeletal or a muscular problem, without really getting into what 'exactly' that meant. In my mind I was treating the nerves as another kind of involuntary muscle of my CNS and concluded that 'some' form of exercise is still the answer.

I was, however, not prepared to read about the Psychology of Back Pain in one of the science blogs I look at: http://scienceblogs.com/cortex/2009/01/back_pain.php
and it blew my mind with an unexpected bonus of eliminating my chronic back pain to a hardly noticeable discomfort.

I don't know where even start to try to explain the process of healing but it shed some light on how other people experience miracles and start religions and inspire crowds. I am a neuropsychology enthusiast but nothing I have seen in lectures and read online ever could prepare me for this. I was FREE of the pain within a day or two.

and yes I am most likely a psycho whose brain is prone to fixation and repetition when it comes to life as when it comes to the back pain. The pain was like the ghost limb and once I saw it in the mirror, the painful sensations went away. Ok, now excuse me while I go think about this little more to eliminate this pesky lower back pain that promptly settled in!

what to do in 2009

1. make a studio/office and start painting
2. knit more when around my kids
3. being more around my friends, spend more time with the puppie, go out with Bryan regularly because this marital stuff needs more quality attention
4. plan my 40s and not freak out about the labor market
5. do yoga at home instead of shelling $$ in expensive studios
3. get the chicken coop plans in motion

all this with no pressure.

getting closer

another hilarious tidbit about how is Nico trying figure out religions and the famous guy, Jesus.

the other day over dinner he shared his new understanding of who Jesus was: 'He was a famous baseball player'! Nico learnt it from Wii sports, where a virtual player named Jesus was apparently 'really good at baseball'.

As atheists we have been explaining christianity incoherently ever since, I wonder what his synopsis will be.

looking back in time

One of the most curious results of my child addled brain and the regretful disappearance of my shorterm memory is that I am suddenly flooded by many memories from childhood that I did not retrieve for a decade or two. It feels surreal and weird because I literally have to stop whatever I am doing at that moment, the memory is that unexpected.

some triggers are totally weird, like a smell of some chinese ointment that I smelled in yoga studio: that made me zoom instantly to the times when my sister used the ointment for her migraines and the medicinal smell that accompanied most of my childhood ailments.

Other triggers though are more obvious. After spending some time with my sister and this time not reacting to anything but a direct question really made me observe and recognize us as small kids. I was stunned to see that not that much of the dynamic changed in those 30+ years. We regress to our 7 year old ourselves instantly. Having my mom around pushes the same kind of buttons as always but finally I find the effect less painful and more revealing about where my ego or lack of comes from.

listening to sentences like " I would have never guessed that you would be so skilled in ..... " or ' you have an unbelievable skill to mess things up' or just the common exclamation of my name in frequent judgment, make me want to hug that small kid who was once me. Although to my mother's defense, it is very cultural way of dealing with kids and something that she as a kid probably went through and probably worse. We are all doing better now with our kids in each generation and I am certain she tried. and I am grateful, I guess.