Intruduction

“No frills motherhood” is a project in which popular Polish mothering bloggers take part. We all write

about it in different ways: that it is so hard sometimes that you want to scream, that children get sick,

that they give us a hard time. We describe our hesitations and choices we make, dilemmas between

our need for fulfillment and need to be with kids and still we are happy and we cannot imagine our

lives without them. Some of our children are small and some are bigger, what gives a broader

view on the motherhood from different perspectives.

That way we would like to help little Mikołaj who is seriously ill, suffering from 1 SMA (Spinal Muscular

Atrophy). More on Mikołaj on his blog http://mikolajkowo.blogspot.com (in Polish) or http://no-frills-

motherhood.blogspot.com (in English).

We want to help Mikołaj and we strongly encourage you to do the same.

Share earnings of “No frills motherhood” will be donated to Mikołaj.

Mikołaj’s account:

Fundacja Dzieciom "Zdążyć z Pomocą" („To help on time” – Foundation for Children)

ul. Łomiańska 5, 01-685 Warszawa

41 1240 1037 1111 0010 1321 9362

Bank PeKaO SA Oddział 1 w Warszawie

SWIFT: PKOP PL PW 41 1240 1037 1111 0010 1321 9362

Title of payment:

13401 Kamiński Mikołaj - darowizna na pomoc i ochronę zdrowia

(13401 Kamiński Mikołaj - donation for help and heath protection)

The sweetest sweetheart [pierwsza-zona.blog.pl]

I really regret not completing a number of tests getting me ready for being a perfect mother. I consider it crucial

and tasks listed below (theoretically and practically) should be obligatory:

Test 1:

We sew a number of snap fasteners on any fabric not in the same distance from each other, there should be an

odd number of snap fasteners, but this fact should be acknowledged at the end of the task. And now get ready. As

quickly as possible we fasten the snaps in order to open a space for an infant. Oh. We obviously do it in semi-

darkness, because we usually do it at night and the last thing we would like to do is to wake up our sweetheart

who, with just one smile, compensates literally everything!!! One level higher, the test conductor shakes the fabric.

Test 2.

Getting the milk ready as quickly as possible. Hearing yelling in the background that warns you that unless he or

she gets the milk in 3 seconds, he or she will definitely die of hunger with one and only responsible for that!!!

uncaring mother!!! The food is to be prepared immediately with the ability of mixing all the lumps in the milk.

Without tasting the liquid, the temperature of the milk should be precisely 36,76 degrees Celsius. Then the teat

should be placed in the penny size hole and kept there for about 10 minutes without noticing any perturbations

such as a pooh, door slamming or a cat running across the infant.

Test 3.

What to do to make your kid quiet while bathing. Put a Tesco bag on your head, paint your face in the funniest

way possible and for 30 minutes keep telling a load of bullshit. Try it with cat first – keep an eye contact all the

time.

Test 4.

Place two straws at the bottom of a bowl full of pudding so that the pudding can leak out slower or faster with the

Niagara Falls speed. Having only cotton sticks, try to stop the leaking in 46 seconds. The ability is very useful

while your sweetheart’s running nose time in the winter season.

Test 5.

Try to persuade your husband to stay with your kid at home. To do this – give him a kittening cat, that will leave

just after giving birth to six little kittens

Test 6.

Collect a cat’s urine sample to the lab. You will have to do the same with an infant one day.

Test 7.

For ten minutes bend over a cat’s litter tray that has not been cleaned for about eight days, warbling joyfully tititi

aguagu aga.

Test 8.

Believe that life with an infant is a huge new adventure, which you will handle because you are a

SUUUUUUPPPPPPPPEEEEEEERRRRRRR MUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMYYYYYYY

Pierwsza Żona, [pierwsza-zona.blog.pl]

UP AND DOWN [agnieszek.blog.pl]

Up and down.

The Small Girl…

Be happy, man, that it’s getting better, that she speaks nicely, that she’s calm and relaxed. In the

minute you’ll be hit. Because suddenly the anxiety, the stubbornness and the fear in her eyes come

back. And so what, that I know what makes her smile, what makes her feel happy when, at the same

time, I can never predict the reason of a sudden change of mood.

Ok, let’s put it this way: in 99 cases out of100 I know what CAN cause the fear and protest. But it’s not

always possible to avoid the problem. And sometimes it’s even necessary to fight with it. Because the

Small Girl needs to be taught, adapted to everyday life which is unpredictable. And it’s not the end of

the world, when plans must be changed. And this is the thing that mostly knocks her down these

days .

“How come that “Franklin” is not on tv on Tuesday evening as it has always been!?”

“Why can’t you turn back time in order not to forget to brush the teeth after breakfast?

“Why aren’t we going to the swimming pool, on Saturdays we ALWAYS go to the swimming pool?!

And so on, and so on…

And every unexpected change is accompanied with terrible cry and anxiety that it’s DIFFERENT

THAN ALWAYS.

I know that her constancy and her willing to keep the rituals of everyday life is the way of guaranteeing

(to guarantee?) a feeling of security. I know. And so what?! How to explain, that for a longer period of

time it’s a trap? I can’t… everyday life with the Small Girl looks like walking on a minefield – you can

miss one mine,(?) but then the other one blows loudly. The only difference is that you’re still alive after

the blow. Only my psyche (and hers???) is reduced to ashes

I’m afraid I’m not a phoenix…

…

I’ve had enough.

Simply.

I’VE HAD ENOUGH.

The Small Girl has been crying for three days. With few breaks.

Again, I experience how uncertain the ground on which we are treading is.

How things we were trying to gain with the utmost effort turn into nothing.

Why?

Just because.

Because fear comes, irrational great fear, that changes my child into a hunted animal.

Because that’s the disease.

…

We put our son’s cot’s mattress lower today, because he has started experimenting with standing on

his legs and the threat of falling out of the cot becomes more realistic. It was fun, because the Small

Girl positioned herself right in the middle (of what?), making our Son laugh with wild happiness and us

be afraid whether the cot can handle it or not…

The Small Boy who watches Her more than television was extremely happy about the closeness of his

object of adoration and me? My thoughts somehow came back to the times when She was His age

and, as usually, the same question appeared: could I see something then?/(Could it be possible to see

something then?) Could I observe some worrying signals? Or maybe that’s how it was supposed to

be, for me to be happy that the Small Girl is healthy, miraculously won to our side… I don’t know.

Speaking of miracles – our doctor, whenever she met us, always repeated that the Small Girl is a living

proof of impossibility turning into possibility. And me – although I remember clearly times when nothing

was certain, the instant baptism in hospital just a few hours after her birth and even though it is horribly

difficult sometimes these days – I still can’t imagine: She could have not been here.

Agnieszka, age 39, mother of Justyna (13) and Jerry vel Jeremiasz (10), agnieszek.blog.pl

The first snow [kg]

Tosia is a four-and-a-half-year-old girl.

She welcomed this year’s first snow with excitement.

Until she left home.

She couldn’t wait going out, she jumped with joy, hurried her dad and she described winter sports

enthusiastically all the morning. There was no place for sledging. She planned making footprints in the

snow, throwing balls and making a snowman.

She insisted on not wearing tights under her trousers and off they went.

Her younger brother was having his morning nap, so I used the rare opportunity to stay on the sofa

with some coffee and something to read.

It wasn’t long when I heard a well known sound of wailing from the backyard. It was getting noisier and

noisier to reach the level of noises heard on our staircase.

I immediately knew what I would see. And I was right, after a minute red, snotty and tear-filled-eyed

Tosia appeared.

-My gloves are weeetttt!!!

In fact, they were damp inside. Just a tiny bit.

Well. I gave her a new pair, cleaned her wet face and let her go. I appeared on my sofa again.Not for

long though…

…a noise full of frustration, one of its kind, was heard.

Obviously snow as a wet and cold phenomenon was too much for my daughter…

This way, instead of a tender admiration from behind the curtain of her carefree frolicking, I faced a

howling creature. This time it was about wet trouser legs.

I got a bit nervous and I couldn’t help an everlasting “haven’t I told you?”. After that, I tore her wet

trousers off, cleaned her snotty nose and told her to stay at home.

Somehow she didn’t protest...

kg

Tell me how you love me…? [mietla-pod-dywan.blog.pl]

What is the capacity of a heart? How many people can you love most of all? Do you love all your

children equally, meaning most of all? I have been worried since yesterday, because it is easy for me

to say about my son, that he is the most beautiful boy on Earth, because he obviously is. And later I

will tell Helen that she is the most beautiful girl on Earth, because for 100 percent sure she will be. And

it is easy, because I am the lucky one. I have a son and I will have a daughter. And what would

happen if I had two sons? Which one would be the most beautiful? Or you do not say such things

then?

And what about that love-thing? How do you share it? Because if I love my son most of all, how is it

possible for me to love Helen? I do not really know what to think about it…it is easy now, because

Helen and I do not really know each other personally yet and I just love her, not most of all… and

when she is born? How is it going to be? And it really bothers me tremendously because I do not know

the capacity of my heart and so on… how many people can you love most of all? Does it create

different categories? My son loved most of all? My daughter loved most of all? My mum loved most of

all? Brother? Husband? Grandma? Friend? It seems to me that the easiest way is to have such

categories. Provided that one is as lucky as me having one mother, one husband, two children both

sexes, one grandma now and one best friend… and what if one has four sons?? Two complicate the

matter strongly enough…

The dilemma is awful… I hope life will solve it… I will soon tell you how it is to love two children most

of all

Marta mietla-pod-dywan.blog.pl

Jasiek

He was very brave in the hospital.

I was worried because it was the first time he had slept away from home, without favourite toys around

his bed and a daily routine.

I left him my cell phone to make him feel more at ease and to give him an opportunity to call me, just in

case.

The first message came at 6 o’clock – I am bored!

Then, around 9, about five more, with the same information.

At noon there was a phone call:

-They will make me THE THING they do to pregnant women! – he whispered scarily.

-THE THING meaning WHAT?

- Came on, ultrasound - whispering again. But I am not pregnant, RIGHT? – this time he was

hysterical.

We drove quickly to calm down the poor thing.

Ultrasound was made. Jasiek definitely is not pregnant.

Sacks of gold

We have recently been talking on values.

That they are not necessarily measurable in money.

That one can have nothing and be fabulously rich.

That there is a kind of wealth that make people noble, and there is wealth that does not necessarily

cause it.

And we also talked about feelings – which ones are worth keeping, and which ones we should get rid

of quickly.

It all started with … sacks of gold and precious stones.

Because Karol found a beautiful rock crystal and was wondering if it was worth more than a diamond.

And he asked me if I was unhappy because of not owning any diamonds.

Or a sack of gold??

Or any other treasure?? Because he wished to have it and he wished me to have one as well.

Well the truth is I do not feel bad at all not having any diamonds or gold!

What is more, I would not probably like to have them at all, because it would make me be anxious

about losing them or being robbed!

And I have already got six pieces of treasure at home!

And the fact that I have them is much more important than gold!

And I told Karol straight:

- Boy, I would never exchange you for any sack of gold!

- And for the diamonds??

- Absolutely not!

- And for all the treasures of the world??

- Not at all, it is a dead cert!

- Ok mum, now you sound reasonable!

He heaved a sigh of relief, because he calculated that I would not be attracted by a sack of gold but all

the treasures of the world could be an irresistible temptation

Present

Karol was to choose a present during our trip to the city. So we took the boys and went to the

shopping centre.

We dug through some shops, I really had enough in Tesco, so I shyly proposed to choose maybe

some books – a large selection, not too expensive, and I do not care so much about spending money

on books.

He went through the shelves…

And asked if this could be a book for ten zlotys.

I felt nice.

Firstly, he wanted the book!

Secondly, it was cheap.

Nevertheless, I peeked in the trolley:

“100 suggestions for a good sex”.

I pooped out.

druga mama

Progeny’s case [moje-waterloo.blog.pl]

I report politely that my progeny has developed quickly, jerkily and surprisingly. This development was

confirmed by different texts, for example asking many tricky questions at the worst moments possible,

almost causing tragedy from time to time, because very often she started her obsessive question –

answer cycle during a car journey, when her progenitor, exhausted after spending many hours in the

bosom of her boss and being under constant stress, connected with an inability of getting out of that

damn traffic jam, was trying to get home. Such moment cannot be described as a mature motherhood.

As the Progeny was terribly bored with the traffic jam, she was trying to make up for the time wasted.

Watch out: we are moving (or rather standing still), the Progeny is about four years old. Yawning

hysterically she’s showing the surroundings to her teddy bear. Suddenly she stops her observations to

ask politely:

-mummy, have you noticed the low-floor bus, that passed us just a moment ago?

No, I haven’t, but I’ve just missed one and only opportunity to turn left…

Asia, 37, one Progeny, 16, moje-waterloo.blog.pl

Secret Service [tomaszowa.wordpress.com]

“A three-month-old baby spends his or her day mostly on sleeping” – says, with full conviction, a book

about children. Yeah, surely, in America… I drawl in my thoughts looking at American names of

American authors. In our Polish reality our Polish three-month-old baby limits her sleep during the day

to two naps, maximum half-an-hour-long. She doesn’t sleep during a walk, as a majority of children do,

she doesn’t sleep in the car, she doesn’t sleep in a sling. She just doesn’t sleep as a rule. She

observes. She sleeps at night, yes, in fact she even sleeps all night long. But NOT during the day.

She has mastered a secret ability of an instant regeneration. I’ve deeply looked into it, so I know what

I’m saying! She’s like a secret service agent, who reaches REM stage in a few minutes in order to

wake up in a good condition after ten minutes. When she finally falls asleep nothing, not even a

neighbour’s drill making holes in our wall with any rhythm or a turbojet aircraft taking off from a nearby

airport, can wake her. She will keep on sleeping. For half an hour, not longer, obviously.

I love sleeping, the father - not so much.

And children, well, everybody knows that evolution requires them to be more perfect than their

parents. So they are.

Anyway, I have changed something in my life too.

You cannot imagine how many things you are able to do during thirty minutes.

Or rather, how many things can be done when you know you have only got thirty minutes.

Really, I would never think that I’d be so good at doing everything at full speed…

Magda Kiełbowicz, tomaszowa.wordpress.com

Sleepless Polish Mother [siostrzyca.blogspot.com]

Why on earth do I have to get up for my daughter’s morning school trip? At this barbaric time average

vampires usually snuggle down in the velvet of their coffins and I have to be awake and produce

sandwiches, complete clothing, pack the school bag and, what’s the worst, spend long hours on

combing shaggy hair of my child. An awful curse, really. There are only two emergency ways of doing

it: coming back to the thirties and putting loads of brillantine or a swimming cap. Bless you, the

Engineer, for enjoying early mornings and offering some help with making school closer to our child.

And letting me sleep a bit more. Unfortunately, I share my room with another early riser. And when

she’s bored with killing the cat or making nice graphics on the wall, she catches her mum demanding

some fun and company.

Today was no different. Being pricked with a sharpened colouring pencil what equals being woken up,

I opened my eyes and I was surprised. For, I tell you – my younger daughter is not an effusive and

kissing kid. Outstretched on my breast, she was kissing me in my mouth passionately. “Not a perfect

moment for that, little girl” – I thought to myself, because, as every morning, I felt something like a

sock of an infantryman in my mouth.

My baby, however, undiscouraged, was gazing at me with utter love and total devotion and when my

lips were just about to smile a bit, she whispered very quietly but clearly:

- I have a pooh, mummy.

Wake up! It's a beautiful morning!

Monika, age 30, mother of Kalina (almost 6) and Jagoda (2,5), siostrzyca.blogspot.com

Another visit at Psychopedagogical Counseling Centre [druga mama]

The tests have shown that Jasiek is an intelligent and very sensitive child, but even the smallest failure and defeat

cause his becoming withdrawn and retreating into his own world. He needs individual approach during the

lessons and outside them – he needs help in making acquaintances with children as well as with adults who, so

far, have demanded something from him and he doesn’t always understand what it is.

Usually, at home, it goes this way:

Marysia spilled tea on the floor. She asked Jasiek to bring the floor cloth and went to her room. After a quarter I

found Jasiek starring pitifully at the cloth he was holding. Because he did bring the cloth, but nobody told him what

next. Yes, I know, a normal man should work out what to do, but Jasiek will not, even if he’s standing over the

puddle with a floor cloth in his hands.

At school the situation is similar. He hears “take your notebook out”, so he does it, but he won’t hear “write in it”

because a teacher assumes that it is logical that a student has his notebook for writing in it.

The thing has been discussed, now we only have to ask for an opinion from psychopedagogical councelling

centre, without which the school can’t adapt its educational demands to his special needs. We’re sitting and

waiting for proposals, because we simply don’t know what to ask for.

- Haven’t you thought about a special school? Asked psychologist with some care in her voice. The same

psychologist, who just an hour ago estimated Jasiek’s IQ level. I was speechless but the father instantly asked if

the lady was nuts and whether she really knew what she had proposed.

- So maybe the individual lessons? the psychologist asked shyly, and we started to doubt her competence.

- No way! Said the father categorically, adding that he knew that for a state school getting rid of such a child would

be the most convenient solution, but in spite of everything, we – parents wanted our son to attend a “normal”

school, and we simply expected school to take care of him according to his needs. Is it too much?

We also discussed “normality” subject and we came to a conclusion, that Jasiek is all right, and it’s the world that

went crazy

But the school needs a paper.

- So what can we write about him? – already two psychologists started thinking.

- Yes, we have to write autism, that is the basis.

- But are you sure it is the autism? – it was me who shouted this time because I had enough.

- So maybe we won’t write “autism” directly, but only Asperger’s Syndrome?

- Is it AS?

- Well, you know, we don’t know, it is difficult to be diagnosed… but we have to write SOMETHING!

- Can’t you then write something about his difficulties in social life, advice compensatory classes, social

therapeutic classes – let somebody help him, explain, pinpoint what to do, check, if he wrote his homework, look

after him during a school trip…

- Oh yes! – the psychologist nodded enthusiastically.- we can write this!

I heaved a sigh of relief.

We signed the opinion from the councelling centre to school. If Jasiek’s troubles are really on the basis of autism

I’d really prefer to diagnose it PROFFESSIONALLY. It seems to me that we haven’t moved any closer. Only the

school might get easier.

PHEW!

druga-mama