тата і дзеці ⁽¹¹⁾

I've always avoided responsibility.
For me, responsibility equates to guilt.
If I don't accept responsibility, I'm not to blame.

Last year, I had a chance to shed any imposed responsibility (thanks, my love). I had the opportunity to live in that state, observe it, get accustomed to it slowly, with ease, confidence, and allure.

And now, you know, the desire to take responsibility is returning. Especially for things that truly matter to me.

During these starting days of the school year, I gather my children for school and kindergarten with gratitude and joy. I style Ksusha's hair. I realize that it's essential. That it's crucial to arrive on time. Pack a lunchbox. Give the kids some time to wake up slowly. Pick them up from school and kindergarten. Ask about their day. Reflect on it and convey my children's expectations and grievances to the teachers. I never thought I'd relate to school this way.

You keep asking and asking, and then at night, it turns out that the Polish children voted by a majority for Kseniya to be the class leader. And she only remembered it now. I swelled with pride. And after such events, try to suffer from the fact that you're in a foreign country.

Moreover, I've started therapeutic group meetings titled "My Feelings in Emigration."

I feel warm after the first session, but there's also a sense of responsibility. It's a good responsibility. I'm grateful that I have the opportunity to embrace it.

P.S.: "The servants of the householder came and said to him, 'Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?' He answered, 'An enemy has done this.' The servants said to him, 'Then do you want us to go and gather them?' But he replied, 'No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, "Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn."  Matthew 13

When you pull or trample the weeds in a child's heart, the wheat of sincerity and truthfulness might also get trampled. I think the focus should be on nurturing the good wheat of a loving and sincere heart in my daughter. And the weeds will be taken care of when the time comes. Though, undoubtedly, everything is millions of times more complicated and doesn't fit such simple hypotheses.

Ksusha: I feel so upset; I can't bear the fact that Luba now has a dress. I'm very sad that Luba has a new dress. Because Luba has such a beautiful dress. Because they didn't send one to me. I don't have such a beautiful dress. I feel really bad. Because I don't have a dress or any other clothing as beautiful as Luba's. It hurts that Luba has it, and I don't.

Pa: Have you thought about why it hurts?

Ksusha: I don’t really know, but feelings are so overwhelming, how can you respond to these feelings or what do they mean? Why do they work like this? You never know; life always has mysteries.

Pa: Would you like to solve this mystery?

Ksusha: I think so.

Pa: Like a detective story?

Ksusha: Yes, but much harder. You'll never solve it.

Pa: What if we try to solve it together?

Ksusha: I don’t know what will happen if we solve it.

Pa: We can buy a cake if we solve it!

Ksusha: In honor of what?

Pa: That we are great detectives.

Ksusha: I think they did it (referring to the characters in Ksusha's mind from the movie "Inside Out") to make me feel so sad, so hurt that she has a dress.

Pa: Why would they want to do that? What's the benefit?

Ksusha: If it's any of their hurt or sadness, they don't understand the benefit, they just think they are sad because of it.

I solved the riddle, that it's not beneficial to me at all. They're just sad and hurt, and they take turns.

He wanted to feel sad. He likes feeling sad, so he decided to be sad.

Pa: How about joy? How does joy feel?

Ksusha: There are times when even joy is sad. When it was gentle and scary. And joy could react to that. So, have we solved it?

Pa: I don’t know, but I think there aren’t characters in our head.

Ksusha: Oh, how come! There must be something that should guide us! We can't guide ourselves! If they weren’t there, how could we express sadness, or that we're happy, angry, or gentle?

Pa: Well, I think it’s us, it's really us feeling everything. What else could you feel in this situation?

Ksusha: I wanted to be happy. I wanted joy to come, but instead, sadness came. I couldn't embrace it.

Pa: Why do you think joy should have come?

Ksusha: Luba, my sister, I love her, I want to be happy for her, but I can't.

... they decided to continue another day, the riddle remains unsolved ...

It's the second hour of the night. A sudden flash of light causes me to wake up and quickly orient myself in the space. Ah... everything is fine. It's the children. As we agreed, they would wake me up if they wanted to sleep. They slept in the car today, both in the morning and in the evening. So, at night, they played with Lego while we slept. After waking me, Ksusha asked about reading a book. While Luba instantly fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. I'm feeling groggy, my eyes are still not fully open. I'm writing this text and waiting for Ksusha to fall asleep.

Greetings to this world from independent-conscientious children. I've always believed that a person wants to sleep and will sleep when they need to. I'll tell Dasha about this tomorrow.

We got lost
Wandered in dreams
Laid in the sands
Got slightly sunburned

Watched the stars
Sang little songs
Ate way too much
And danced along

With the kids close by
With Dasha far away
We felt eternal
For her three-day flight.

From time to time, I experience sunsets. You live, you live, and then suddenly, you are in darkness. Beloved freedom-loving children abruptly become disobedient enemies. The creative atmosphere at home turns into a mess. And I myself become a shattered monster.

This last part scares me the most, and the more I'm scared, the more shattered I become. My lower lip almost falls off at such moments because my teeth strongly clench it. Normally, nothing good happens at such times. But in all this turmoil, sun rays break through and scorch me (like in vampire movies). Then it hurts even more at the moment. A battle ensues.

Usually, such states last from 5 to 10 minutes, although time stands still and seems like eternity. And then the sun comes out again and warms me with its rays. Apologies begin, mutual forgiveness. It ends with love, value, and acceptance. Including myself.

And life goes on, and we know that we love each other, even though none of us is perfect.

P.S. In your anger do not sin: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry. (Ephesians)

Lord... how complicated this life is... but how through all this a person pierces to a person, meetings and partings, fullness and emptiness, warmth and coldness.

In the emptiness of a vacuum, one can be deaf if you are alone in it.

But if this state meets you, and you are not alone. Then you well hear and see a neighbor, who is with you in the vacuum. The eyebrow movement of children testifies that life is there, it exists, it plays on the strings of the soul.

The wind blew us from the lake, the waves looked like the sea, children dug trenches, scooped holes, looked for little shells. I almost cried from this moment. Life blew us, we felt the air we breathe. Rules, laws, limitations at this moment gave way to life, gave way to understanding the value of each moment. All this is temporary. Everything can end at any moment. And even if you were to live a full 100 years, it would be too little. Too little for such moments, too little for life. The rustle of a little leaf in the wind moves the clock's hand. This hand brings us closer to the end. How I want to meet again. Again in eternity: And let there be arguments, pain, complaints, and shouting. I will learn to love even that.

The wind blows us away.

Here we begin, life is born, reveals its secrets, one wishes to be alone, wishes to be filled with the sense of life, its beauty. Feel oneself in all this. Start seeing life as it is, start seeing oneself.

...Then various things happen...

And here are the moments when the sun hides behind a fir tree. When children come out of the shower, and against their desire, are tucked into bed. Games quiet down. And we begin to read. We immerse ourselves in a fairy tale story, in the lives of other people and ourselves. This is the prism of the day, the prism of our life. The meanings, relationships, feelings, and dreams are revealed.

And then under the insistent "Please, read more," comes the promise to continue tomorrow.

Lullabies are turned on (until today they were Belarusian lullabies). And one can see how the children, immersed in their thoughts, are approaching sleep. And I am writing this text, or another one.

Precious time, precious life, meaning flies in the air, depth is revealed in silence.

The weather outside is good. On such a day, it's a great idea to have a spontaneous picnic. Kids love it when I interrupt their numerous games and activities with interesting and fun suggestions. A picnic is one of their favorite things. Sometimes, it's too much hassle to gather everyone inside to eat. Instead, I collect dishes, food, cups, forks, water, and balance it all to carry it out at once.

Calling kids for a picnic feels different than just calling them to eat. They instantly appear. And the best reward is the words: “Dad, can we do this again?” Exclamations like: "What a wonderful day! Everything is so good!"

Before the picnic, I had to turn on the outdoor tap for handwashing. It's usually off to ensure endless water play doesn’t stress the parents out. But after the picnic ended, the tap was still on. Buckets were ready. Ksyusha was running around and watering the flowers, with love and care. And then she moved on to the spruces, which require so much, so much water!!!

Lyuba fills a bucket, pours it under her feet, and jumps in it like Peppa Pig, singing: "Muddy Puddle! Muddy Puddle!"

Clean up everything! What is so difficult for you to clean up after yourself? Who threw this here? I'll count to three; if you don't pick it up, I'll throw everything in the trash! Where should your things be?! It's getting on my nerves!

How much energy, how much fanaticism I had before when it came to cleanliness at home and having the kids clean up after themselves. I could have launched a rocket into space with that energy. And it seemed like it wouldn't take much time to train the kids to be clean. It just required discipline, detachment, and firmness. To break them down.

This thought, about breaking them down, always made me think again and again about this situation. About cleanliness and the freedom of children. About the transience of everything happening now.

Six months ago, I changed myself. Love for the children and respect for their creativity and freedom changed my character, changed my traditions, my habits, and my sense of beauty.

Now I'm making my way through this mess of crumpled pieces of paper mixed with garbage, and I'm happy. I feel the creative charm in it, the realization of freedom, the realization of love.

What a huge burden of tension and anger has been lifted off my shoulders.

And now, the short period of time that remains for us to live together can be dedicated to acceptance, respect, joy, and creativity. Then, in a blink of an eye, they will scatter to universities and later to their own homes. Everything happens so quickly in this life; I don't see the point in raising children in areas of life that are not essential to me. It's better for them to remember a kind and joyful dad who can let go of those seven rules for the sake of love. Everybody can change for love. For me, this is my transformation, something I can be proud of!