My youngest girl will turn 2 years old in a month. And believe me, the more kids you have, the faster time flies. Marge is our little cheerful sun, who loves talking and singing. The words “She started to sing before she could talk” of the famous ABBA song totally relate to her! And yesterday she told me “please” when she asked for something! Here are some of my latest pictures of her:
Tag Archives: мысли
Размышления о важности фотографий во время беременности и первых месяцев с малышом
Самое важное для мамы
There is an accident that I can’t stop thinking about. There are a lot of sad things in the world that happen every day, but only some of them can be changed.
There is a Latvian woman who lost her daughter five years ago to the social services of another European country, where her family had been immigrated earlier. I intentionally don’t name the country, as it really doesn’t matter. I believe that cruel and mean people are evenly spread around the world.
That woman made an insignificant mistake that turned to be the biggest mistake of her life. Her child being only 2 years old was taken away from her by force and she’s still fighting to bring her back.
Просто разрозненные мысли.
(because this is why I’ve started this blog — to share my random thoughts).
The 1st thought.
School starts on September the 1st here in Latvia. Our family has been preparing for the school season for at least one month. And now that the school has started, Anastasia found out that she lost her penal. Somehow she lost TWO pencil cases during the summer. She hardly used them and yet she lost both. I decided to postpone running ещ the store for the new one and search for it by myself on her table. Yes, you can lose things on her table and you will probably need at least a half an hour to find those. Long story short, I found her pencil case, so as I found some pretty old sweets and biscuits wrapped in a tissue and a stale piece of bread (technically though, it was found by Marge, who came to me and just took it from the box out of nowhere, where Anastasia stores her notebooks, and started eating it).
Школа в Латвии начинается 1-го сентября. Мне хотелось быть организованной, поэтому готовиться мы начали ещё месяц назад. И вот, когда школа началась, Настенька внезапно обнаружила потерю пенала. Каким-то образом за лето она умудрилась потерять аж 2 пенала. Она их и не использовала толком, однако потеряла. Я решила не бежать сразу за новым, а поискать сначала самой на её столе. Да, на Настином столе можно потерять вещи. Более того, может понадобится целых полчаса, чтобы потом найти потерянное. В общем, нашла я её пенал. А ещё я нашла горсточку старых конфет и печенюшек, заботливо завёрнутых в салфеточку и засохший кусок белого хлеба (хотя технически последний нашла Марго, которая подошла ко мне и, со знанием дела, просто взяла его из Настиного ящика ниоткуда и стала есть).
Любовь это...
There was an unpleasant event in the middle of December that pushed me to write this post. It conveys my point of view regarding to love. A woman told some rude things to me and at first I was feeling angry at her as I was caught without guard with her accusations. But soon enough I realized that more likely the real reason why she acted in that odd way was her own frustration at completely another person that I had been related too. So I ended up with feeling pity for the woman that, as I’m sure, had fallen in the same trap where I was some time ago too.
Мои самые ранние воспоминания
I have a commitment to document our family life via photographs. But there are some moments that can’t be photographed either way. Every night when I’m going to bed, my littlest girl wakes up and I’m breastfeeding her. She takes my arm with her warm little fingers. It’s dark in the room, but a night lamp gives me enough light to see how small they are. I hold both of her hands, look at her cheeks moving, smell her head. I feel how strong is my bond with this child. In fact it’s so strong that I choose to watch her while she’s eating instead of closing my eyes and sleeping. And I think, why don’t kids remember these precious moments? Or maybe someone does? Well, I don’t.