The Angriest I Have Ever Been At My Mother

That's the card I received for American Mother's Day. Please notice that the card is in English. Oh, and that's me in the pink and purple stripes.

No one can make you angry like your mother can. It usually doesn't take much, an innocent comment, sometimes just a look, that goes straight to your heart and immediately infuriates you. I remember plenty of slammed doors as a teenager and the occasional "you're ruining my life". I even remember an argument years ago which ended with me storming out of the house in tears.

Don't get me wrong. I love my mother. We are very different people and very different mothers. Even so, she had her hand in who I am today, tears and all. My mother knows I love her because I tell her so. We're the rare breed of mother and daugher who actually say the words "I love you". I must admit that I was the one who started it. I don't recall any "I love you's" from my childhood, not a one.* As an adult I was very resentful of this fact. Some years ago I decided to be an adult about it and change it. What was the worst that could happen? My parents wouldn't say it back? Of course they would, and they did. Thus, a new family tradition was born. That means that "I love you" was the last thing I said to my father and the last thing I heard from him. You never know when it's the last one. 

Moms have a big influence on their kids. I know that some day, my girls will grow up and sit around the table talking about how I infuriated them over the years. Just the thought of that warmed my heart. I'd like to hope that now I am an adult, I could return the favor to my mother....and infuriate her like she has infuriated me.... and have some influence on her...positive influence, I hope.

The town where I grew up is teeny tiny, and located in a rural area.There is a university though, so we felt all worldly about that when we were kids. Any new people in our town were usually professors, doctors, or other professionals. It wasn't a place where people moved to but rather away from. I mean there wasn't any reason to move there if it wasn't for a job. We didn't get many or any foreigners back then.

Flash forward to today...my hometown is still teeny tiny. The area is still rural, but maybe a little less than before. There's still a university - it's even bigger than when I was a kid. The newbies in our town come from all kinds, not just professors or professionals. We even have some foreigners.

My aunt happened to be our Spanish teacher in school. We couldn't figure out why we had foreign language lessons back then. We didn't see the need. Plus we did everything to sabotage my aunt's lesson plans, thus leaving us after all those years with little to no Spanish in our heads. My aunt is retired now, but she substitutes in the district schools and works as an aid when a Spanish-speaking kid needs language support. My mother was telling me about my aunt's latest position as an aid in one of the kindergartens. There was a kid who couldn't speak English almost at all. My mother's commentary on that (break out the mom voice), "Well, apparently his parents can't speak a lick of English. I don't know what the problem is, if they're just too lazy or too stupid to learn."

And that's where my head exploded. Pure fury. Skype hath no fury like a daughter for her mother. I don't even get that mad when my mom Skypes me in the middle of the night and asks why I'm not asleep. 

My question to my mother, "Do you think I'm too lazy or too stupid to learn Polish?"

My mother, in her totally mom voice, "No, of course not honey. Polish is a very hard language! And you are a very busy lady. You have your work and the girls."

"So Mom, maybe those parents just came to the US. Maybe they work long hours. Maybe they haven't had an opportunity to learn. There are a million reasons why somebody wouldn't know English and stupid and lazy are not at the top of the list."

The conversation went downhill from there, you can be sure about that. I was angry and disappointed that my mother would not have more sympathy for an immigrant parent when I myself am an immigrant parent. Me, her child.

I still love her though. She's my mom.

Happy Polish Mother's Day!

*I just remembered one "I love you" from my childhood. My father dropped me off at my high school and just as I reached the main doors where my friends were waiting, he got out of the car and shouted, "Chri-is! I loooooove you!"

What's all the hubbub? Abortion Law in Poland

Last year in Poland, there were 1812 legal abortions performed in a country with a population just under 40 million. A woman may seek abortion in cases of rape, serious threat to the life/health of the mother, or severe birth defect. That's how it is supposed to work under the so-called compromise between the church and the state, and apparently it did work in 1812 cases last year.

I am personally aware of a case that didn't work - of the woman who was denied an abortion not because it was illegal, but because she couldn't find a hospital or doctor to perform it. But that is neither here nor there.

I think the current law is pretty restrictive. I've seen Pro-Life protesters on the street in Poland and always wondered what they were protesting exactly. It's practically illegal, right? What more could they want? A total ban on abortion? 

Yes. A total ban on abortion.

The proposal, still in project form, for a total ban on abortion has been sent to the Polish parliament. 

I'm not Pro-Abortion. I'm Anti-Unwanted Pregnancy. I support sexual health education and access to birth control in order to reduce unwanted pregnancies. That doesn't do anything for the cases outlined above, but it's my position nonetheless. I remember those Sex Ed. classes in school and the realization that the 15-year-old boy next to me didn't know the urethra from the vagina, nevermind the clitoris and nevermind birth control. That wasn't his problem.  

So on Sunday I decided to join the protest against this proposal. I feel it's my civic duty. We protested. We shouted. We clapped. We took our obligatory protest selfie. We crossed our fingers for the future of women in Poland.

On Sunday, priests in Poland read out the church's position on the matter during mass. Across Poland, some parishioners walked out of church in protest. For the most part, this was a silent protest without incident. In one church there was a loud exchange and hands were laid on one of the protesters.

And that's it so far. Ms. Beata Szydło, the Polish Prime Minister, said on Monday that it wasn't even a topic of discussion in Poland although a few days before she declared that she supports a total abortion ban. It's not even a bill yet, that's true. A bill is a law before it is signed, before it becomes a law. But when should we protest? After it's a done deal? 

As I was perusing my Facebook wall Monday morning, you know, as you do, I noticed a post about the protests in English. It was pretty standard, pretty much what I've written above. It was the comment section below the article that caught my eye - comments showing that the commenters had not even read the article and did not understand the current law or the proposed changes. There was even one saying that the protests hadn't actually taken place, that it was all a media manipulation. And that's where I made a mistake. I commented. For the last two days, I have been suffering through what can only be described as "hate". I've been bombarded with private messages...and I've learned a lot about myself. First of all, I am a whore, bitch, baby killing murderer. I don't actually live in Poland. I do live in Poland, and I have a secret agenda to liberate Polish women (that one's inadvertently humorous). I am funded by the EU to create abortion mills in Poland for the profit of Big Pharma. And the not so funny threats to my children. Not cool, not cool at all. But on the bright side, I finally figured out how to use my blocking settings.

Our Easter in Poland 2016

It's Lany Poniedziałek (Wet Monday), and our Easter break is coming to an end. Per family tradition, I was the first one up so I was the water sprinkler, not sprinklee. Also as per tradition, one child was laughing while the other one was crying. Mommy almost cried too when she discovered that the crying child had slept all night on a chocolate egg! I must admit when I first saw it, I thought it was something else so I'm grateful it was just a smooshed and melted chocolate egg. Small mercies.

The weather is absolutely beautiful. The sun is shining. The sky is blue. The birds are chirping. And we are all inside with our noses in our books or gadgets because we're all sick. We've all got the same sickness, but at various stages and degrees of severity. That means no walking, running, cycling, or playing outside for us. It also means pajamas, syrups, cups of tea, and mountains of used tissues. 

Good Friday we spent getting the house ready. My husband arranged a wonderful lady to help out. She's a lifesaver even though she didn't do the windows "bo i tak nie świętujecie". Yes, she decided to leave the windows for later because we don't celebrate Easter. We had a good laugh. She promised to do them next time. It was during this time of cleaning up and decorating that we realized that we simultaneously have Easter, Christmas, and Halloween decorations up in our house. That's okay, right?

The girls made an Easter egg tree

This is my Easter tree with handmade glass ornaments and blown-out painted eggs.

I found the perfect use for this yellow vase I bought in Bolesławiec.

On Good Friday, we also paid a visit to our local egg dealer, an older lady from our neighborhood. Our old egg dealer is in prison. Our current egg dealer was feeling a bit lonely I think and wanted to chat. I got to know that her grandson was the getaway driver for our old egg dealer. He went to prison for that, but now he's out. He's been trying to grow marijuana in the garden and in the little woods near their house, but grandma and the chickens keep destroying all his attempts. We also got to know that most of the young people in her family have gone to England to work and that she'd much rather her grandson went to England to work than engage in questionable activities here in Poland. Then she had to run off to the shop to buy dishwashing liquid, you know, because she had to do her windows.

This is the first batch of eggs.

Some of the eggs got dyed.

The rest of the eggs were made into pickled eggs.

Good Saturday we packed up the sick kids and forced them to go for a walk near the church to get some fresh air and to see people taking their Easter baskets to be blessed. My children were not interested at all, so nothing has changed since last year. I, on the other hand, love looking at the baskets. My favorite basket carriers this year included a small gang of surly teenaged boys decked out in their favorite sweatsuits and a leather-clad biker dude carrying the most delicate basket of all. We wanted to peek inside the church, but the crowd made it impossible. Plus our children were bored to death, and our pockets were full of used up tissues. We came back home.

It was standing room only at the church on Good Saturday.

At church

A billboard outside the church "YOU crucified Jesus"

Easter Sunday is our girls' favorite day because the Easter bunny visits them, and did he ever. I think they were satisfied with what they found in the garden. We also found a chicken in our garden, a real one. This chicken has been hanging out in our garden, making a big mess, for the last three days. It's ours now, right?

They missed one..we found it today.

"Easter eggs"

Our new chicken. Rosie's named it "Rosół". That's Chicken Soup in Polish.

While the girls sorted through their Easter baskets, we could get breakfast ready. 

Pickled eggs and Spinach and Salmon Tart

It wouldn't a Polish Easter without veggie salad.

The spread

I almost forgot that we went to an Easter Market a week ago for Palm Sunday. I love small town markets.

There were so many stalls, these selling crafts and decorations.

There was also a palm contest.

I always wondered how they transported those big palms.

Jealous?

Honey, jams, and syrups

Bread with lard and a pickle and hams

Eggs, bread, heavy cream, sausages. The seller asked me, "Are you buying or just smelling." I was just smelling :(

Eggs

Fresh bread

These lovely ladies agreed to pose for a picture.

The Mazurek that we bought.

The selection of Babki decorated for Easter.

A selection of Easter cakes from the local bakery.

Lamb cake for Easter only 10 zl.

The Mazurek we didn't buy :)

An entry in the Mazurek cake contest

An entry in the Mazurek cake contest

An entry in the Mazurek cake contest

I believe this Mazurek took first place in the cake contest.

These baskets were much emptier after my visit.

Bunny decorations

Glass eggs ornaments plus one Maluch Fiat 126

A close up

It's not very Eastery, but I couldn't resist.

Little loaves of bread for the Easter baskets

Easter cemetery candles

Felt Easter baskets

All in all, it's been a very nice Easter holiday. Now it is time to think about going back to school and work.

You think you know somebody

Can you be friends with someone who thinks you're simple? That's what I'm asking myself today.

Conversation with a teacher friend, the short version:

Friend: You're wrong, but I forgive you because you're not Polish. Chriiiisss, you couldn't possibly understand the situation. You know nothing of European history, recent politics, the Polish education system, the situation for real people in Poland.

Me: Kochana, I studied history.

Friend: But in America. It doesn't count. (Gee, thanks my friend.)

Me: Yes, yes. On my exams I only wrote "America good. Rest of world bad." And I got an A+. Anyhow, I read a lot and not only from sources sympathetic to my opinions. 

Friend: But you read English papers. You cannot get the whole picture that way.

Me: I read the Polish papers too, dear friend. 

Friend: But as an American you cannot understand the Polish reality of people who work and live in Poland. People who have to find a job, a place to live, find a place in the hospital, pay a mortgage.

Me: Absolutely, since I came to Poland 16 years ago, I have never had a job interview, never been hired or fired from a job. My home was given to me by angels. Mortgage? What's that? Hospitals welcome me with open arms, especially that time I almost gave birth in the waiting room because the hospital refused to admit me. 

Friend: But you can't imagine how it is to be a public school teacher here. The abuse we have to take, the peanuts we earn.

Me: As a former school teacher I assure you, I understand your struggles.

Friend: But you taught in a nice school in America. I work over 40 hours in two different schools.

Me: I worked 50 hours in one school. Nice? Our metal detectors were certainly top-of-the line.

Friend: Ok, but at least you got paid a reasonable salary.

Me: I earned less than the per hour pay of a fast food cashier.

Friend: Well, in Polish schools it's just worse.

Me: I worked in high school in Poland and while it wasn't all fun and games, nobody got shot. 

Friend: Please. You're exaggerating. You didn't get shot at school in America.

Me: Not me. One of the kids. That's why I'm not a public school teacher anymore, that and the money.

Friend: Well, anyhow. You're not fully immersed in Polish culture, so you've been misled by the leftist media. If you really understood life in Poland, your (political) opinions would be different.

Me: Well, at least you didn't say it's because I'm a cycling atheist.

Aaaaah!

I know plenty of foreigners who live in Poland and don't give a rat's ass about Polish politics. They don't know who the President is, are unaware that there's also a Prime Minister, and probably won't take an interest as long as they live in Poland...unless the exchange rate continues its plunge right into the toilet.

But someone who knows me, has known me for years? I thought they'd put me in a different category than the random expat passers through. I know that I wasn't born in Poland, and I'm not Polish, but jasna cholera I take an interest in the country I call home. Yes, I have a different perspective. I'm an immigrant after all. I'm not asking her to agree with me. I'm only asking for respect of my intelligence as an adult member of society. 

My friend? Please ask her what's wrong with Obama, why Americans are overweight, or who will be the next US President. She's an expert.

Cleaning house czyli dobra zmiana

Things are changing here in Poland after the latest elections, most notably in recent days, journalists of public television and radio are losing their jobs. In a nutshell, the ruling party (called PiS, the Law and Justice party) believes that the role of the public media in a democracy is to support the narrative of the government; criticism is unacceptable. Democracy inaczej.

Regardless of who's in power, unceremonious cleaning house is wasteful in my opinion. Knowlege, know-how, and experience are laid to waste. Hopefully, the free market will scoop up those folks who are worth it.

Believe it or not, even I got house-cleaned once. It was a few years ago while teaching in a large, public company. I was teaching some gentlemen that I had met years before in another company, not public, that had been bankrupted by the tax office. (The tax office was later found to be in the wrong and had to pay compensation, small justice for all the people who lost their jobs including me). Anyhow, I arrived for my first meeting only to discover that my "boys" were board members and now wore suits to work and had assistants and drivers and the like. These guys were educated and qualified. They had strategies and plans. And then there was the election.

I came to work just as any other day. I was invited to talk to the new president. That was a surprise. He informed me that my "boys" didn't work there anymore and that my services were no longer needed. I explained that we had a contract. They promised to fulfill their obligations under the contract, but we were finished. I've been hired and fired many times. It's part of the job. I suggested the new board continue the contract, you know if that Prezes needed English so does this one. The new president explained that I had to go because of the elections. I finally got it and blurted out, "Grzegorz was in PiS!?" So very diplomatic of me, nie? I reminded him that I'm American and not involved in Polish politics, but he apologized once again explaining that their policy is to end all contracts signed by the old guard. Bad for me. I guess I should give that Grzegorz a call now, nie?

On a side note, with all that is going on in politics I decided to give my Twitter account a look. If you use Twitter, Kielbasa Stories is there :) I'm not very active there. Instagram is more my thing. Anyhow, Twitter informed me that controversial Polish politician Krystyna Pawłowicz had recently opened an account. I decided to follow her as her 8th follower only to unfollow her two days later. I gave a look through her posts and although they were rude and abrasive just as the real lady is, I suspected the profile was fake. Even as her popularity on Twitter rose, I still felt the profile couldn't be hers. Why? The person behind the Krystyna Pawłowicz Twitter profile did their best to mimic the notorious MP. Insults and accusations flew, but this faker could in no way match the amount of poison which spills each day from the original source, her real Facebook page serves as an amazing record of her creativity and stamina in attacking her opponents, real and imagined. I don't follow her, and I don't recommend following her either. 

Kielbasa Stories, on the other hand, I recommend following. Join us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter :)

What is my motivation?

I have always achieved my goals through motivation and a strong will. Okay, okay, there are plenty of goals I have made in my life and not achieved, but lack of will and motivation wasn't the cause. Now I am at the point where I think neither motivation nor a strong will can help me.

Goal: Reduce cholesterol to normal human levels. 

I am extremely motivated to do this. My marathon running father had a quadruple bypass at age 52, just months after running a race. Many of my cousins from my father's side of the family have had heart attacks under the age of 50. I don't want to end up like that. When another cousin had a heart attack at age 40 last year, I decided to get my cholesterol tested. It was 300. I was shocked and paralyzed with fear. I didn't eat for several days not knowing what was safe to put in my body. Motivation kicked in when my father died soon after that and my cardiologist tried to reassure me by saying, "Don't worry. I've operated on people younger than you." He also said "wdzianko" my least favorite word in Polish thus losing his Hot Doctor title once and for all.

I do not want to leave my children motherless. You'd think that would translate into "I don't want to die", but it really is about sticking around for my kids. It's especially important as we have no extended family to depend on. If it was just me, I'd eat all the bacon and get fat and die. It's my birthright.

Sure, I want to be slim. I absolutely want to be fit. I am quite slim and relatively fit. I don't eat what a heart patient shouldn't. I exercise vigorously, not moderately, my allotted times per week. I don't drink. I don't smoke. So what's up with my cholesterol?

After one year of hard work, my cholesterol is down 25 points to 275. That's great, right? I should be happy with my achievement, and I am. The thing is, my bad cholesterol hasn't budged, not even one point. I'm still motivated, still wanting to stay alive and all that. I am able to just not eat all that stuff I shouldn't. It's not a big deal really. But Jeezuz, what if it isn't enough? I'm going into Year 2 of my cholesterol lowering plan. Let's hope it's enough.

Me on a chilly bike ride :)

I will...

This year I plan to be kinder. I will give people the benefit of the doubt. I will chill in traffic jams. I will let people go in front of me at the grocery store. I will be kinder to my children. I will remember that they are just children. I will set a kind example for them. They already got their lesson on assertiveness. 

I'm not only going to be kinder. I'm going to say kind things. Recently someone said to me, "The sight of you is the first thing to put a smile on my face today." That was amazing because well it was just amazing and knowing this person, I knew it was sincere. 

I will continue in my slow process of getting my shit together. I started that a few years ago and discovered that it's not something you just do and it's done. It's something that has to be kept up lest your shit, so to speak, get away from you.

I will meet with people I like more often. I've made this resolution every year for the last few years. I'm by no means a party animal, but year after year I get out there more.

I will continue everything I do to keep my body and mind fit and functioning. I reduced my cholesterol by 25 points in 2015, and I hope to reduce it another 25 points in 2016 bringing me to an overall 250. I know that's still high, but it's my dream. I will increase my kilometers per bike ride hopefully doubling my current distance by the end of the year. I would say that in addition to all that, I will quit drinking and smoking, but I don't drink or smoke. I won't be losing any weight either

I'm thinking about a career change, and this year I will collect more information on the topic. I will read the books waiting in my Kindle or even on my shelf. I will get that mammogram I have been putting off. 

But all of that doesn't start until tomorrow, so I will do my best to enjoy this last day of 2015. I wish you to do the same. 

Till next year...