Daughter Grows

Hello God!

Thank You for this possibility to breath and enjoy Sunday. Today is a rainy day and I have a happy time to write these words. My daughter is sitting on my knees playing in a fashion game with iPad now. She asks my advices what dress to wear and I feel her trust. I enjoy and love our understanding.

I am meditating about our future now. Will we still be a good friends when my daughter is a teenager? I have found a wonderful story I am happy to share with you. Sure you recognize today’s personages on the photos.

Madonna

In the second grade,

My mom made me wear dresses everyday.
My mom would part my hair down the middle and make two long braids with colorful hair ties.
I would go to school and the boys would make fun of my dresses.
The boy that sat behind me would pull my braids anytime I said something smart.

Lourdes2Lourdes

In the fourth grade,

I told my mom I could dress myself, but she still had to approve of every outfit.
I told my mom I was old enough to style my own hair.
I would go to school and the boys would make fun of my weight instead of my clothes.
The boy that sat behind me would sit next to me and call me names for being the stupid one in smart classes.

Lourdes5

In the seventh grade,

I told my mom that I didn’t care what she thought.
I cut my long hair shoulder length.
I started wearing dark makeup.
The boys didn’t make fun of my weight but they would ask me out as a joke.
The boy that sat behind me and then next to me, liked me and texted me every night saying how pretty I was.

Lourdest

In the ninth grade,

My mom wasn’t awake to see what I wore to school.
I regretted the very day I decided to cut my hair.
The boys that called me fat; left me alone because they found someone bigger to pick on.
The boy that sat behind me asked me for a naked picture and I said no.
He called me a fat, ugly, prude and never talked to me again.

Lourdes

In the tenth grade,

My mom borrowed my clothes and I borrowed hers.
My hair fell out but I wanted it to grow.
Boys no longer call me fat because they never saw me eat.
And the boy that sat behind me wanted me back.
I cried myself to sleep and hid my wrists in my sleeve.

MadonnaandLourdes

It’s funny how many things changed since the second grade…

by Caroline.

Thank you for sharing this moment together.

Have a happy understanding supporting friendship with your children today and always!

My Dolls

Hello God!

Thank You for a friendship we are inspired by. My today’s post was born because of my new friend Sindy. Her blog is fascinating. She asked me whether my Soviet childhood was different from her American one. My childhood was sweet, I even create a poem inspiring by my happy memories. To feel the differences it will be nice to hear your opinion.

I suppose all children with loving father and mother are happy on the both side of our planet. Childhood is the pink period when American democracy or Soviet totalitarianism mean nothing. My Soviet childhood is from 80s. The Soviet Union was blooming in building Communism and my parents were a happy helpers working at the factory. My education was partly a responsibility of the Soviet Union. Kindergarden was for children from 1 y.o. Mother should go to work. All Soviet people should work, as you know, unemployment was solved by the law of Communist Party.

The future builders of Communism should be a harmoniously developed person. By the way I like this idea. Every child studied and learned to play a musical instruments and sports for free. Every child knew the ballet “Swan Lake” by Peter Tchaikovsky and the 2nd Concerto for the piano with orchestra by Sergey Rachmaninov. This classic pieces were main in the TV program when funeral of General Secretary of the Communist Party was in the day. I remember the funerals of Leonid Brezhnev, Yuri Andropov and Konstantin Chernenko. It was funny but child’s playing with a toys with a sounds of a classical masterpiece solved important educational task how to teach to love classical music.

You see a photos of a dolls from USSR soviet children played with. We did not know who Barbie was at all.

We were happy because we knew nothing about Afghanistan, the Cold War, Berlin Wall. We will know the sad truth later…

MyDolls

My dolls house is a pretty home
Where spirit of childhood lives,
Happy spirit of memories
Lullabies and warm milk.

DollDoll1

My dolls ballerinas dance
“Swan Lake” on my soul scene
Theatre Orchestra is perfect for
Harmony opens the skies.

My dolls play the harp and the violin softly at night,
Angelic fingers nimbly moving in the moonlight.

SchoolUniform

My dolls always act for me.
Supporting my happiness and
Keeping the spirit of music
I listen inside my dreams.

PioneerBelGirl

My dolls have a radiant faces,
Reflecting my soul in their eyes.
Childhood is sweetness
Childhood is light…

DollGardener

My dolls garden where
Roses are blooming,
Beautiful gardener protects
The thoughts floating in my head.

Dollove

My dolls house is a pretty home
Full by endless love for me.

Please do not believe in the Soviet evil and Communist demons. There are no black and white colors here. We all are just the Earth people.

Thank you for the peace in your soul we have just created.

Have a peaceful weekend!