333
And you say LUCKY...
One day we were late for the train.
Train "Moscow-Anapa" was to take us South. We have suffered this vacation and was waiting for him with all my heart.
Three hours before the train my husband and son sat in pre-booked taxis.
And then had some kind of a road collapse. We just stood in traffic for the first two hours, not an inch moving toward the goal. The problem was in the fact that we were three kilometres from the nearest subway station, where you can domchat to the station and go to metro on foot in the broiling sun with a lot of Luggage and a small child in her arms — a real utopia.
Finally, the tube died. In the subway we flew for 30 minutes before the departure of the train. To go — 10 stations. My husband and it was obvious we were late. Because there is another station running, look for the platform...
But we still went. Silently. Immersed in thoughts of our failed vacation. I tried to understand what he wants me to tell the universe that cancelled happiness.
Two year old son had fun jumping on the seat of the car and did not share our condition. I wanted to slap him on the ass, although I have never in my life I have never raised a hand to a child...
We ran into the building of the Kazan station in 15-35. 15-30 our train left. Had to go...
But he stood still, rooted to the spot. I could not believe my eyes, but the scoreboard showed "Moscow-Anapa"...
When we arrived to the last wagon, the train started. We threw things on the go. And the child was passed in the car in the process of running the platform.
Something delayed the departure, explained the conductor, removing the kickstand, when we, panting from the running and stress, trying to catch my breath in the vestibule.
Then we went a long way in composition, looking for our compartment. And when found and closed the door behind him, then my husband and informative hugged, and he nervously laughed and I cried...
That's what I call LUCK. Just got LUCKY.
Something happened that wasn'T supposed to happen. And this is in your favor.
If you're an early spring plant the seeds of tomatoes in a mayonnaise jar, put them on a Sunny windowsill, you can monitor temperature hatched seedlings, then closer to the summer, carefully move the matured seedlings to the country, transplanted them into a new, own — price spent the weekend and sciatica — built greenhouse, will ensure regular irrigation for the whole season, fertilizer and weeding and in the fall you will meet in the greenhouse is a fleshy juicy tomato heart, you will consider you "lucky"? Of course not! It would be the expected result of the daily work.
Here and in the family, in parenting, in building relationships here that carefree "LUCK" does not happen.
I write posts about her husband and children. The reader created the honeymoon way me and my sugar family. But I write the truth. Not making this up. Write about the usual quiet family happiness.
You're fortunate — brand me those who have it is not so. It is easier to cope with injustice: because the word "lucky" sewn machinations of fate, some implicit force majeure, and no shred of responsibility for the result.
The best word for those who are not lucky.
I want to say that we are normal. Average. And we are his "lucky" was walking through the thorns, through which not everyone will pass.
And for the happiness we have paid a heavy price. Unaffordable to many.
And it's this knowledge that I now sell to people. Monetize your successful experience. Sell to those who are "unlucky", your recipes are "lucky".
In relation to my husband and we went through all the stages. The stage of adoption of each other as a life partner, humility, flaws, wisdom to appreciate the dignity.
We are together since University. With first dates (with a bunch of wildflowers), meager wages (only for travel), quick-tempered youth offense ( and I believed you!), protracted quarrels ( don't call me anymore!), burning jealousy ( what Lena???), passionate reconciliations (what, here?), with pasta as the only food to which we have been able to earn (but the parents are not to take a penny!), with first career wins (let the sea take a trip?) and failures (while on my wait), with timid life plans (come on baby?), with the movies under the same blanket (I enjoy you), "will you be my wife?", with the first large purchases ( not credit), with a test with two lines, with "you will have a boy!", from the first laughter of the son, with the nervous breakdowns (you promised to walk with him!), with the collected to mom's suitcases ( not more!), with the return to confession (can't!), with hugs in the hallway, "let's never again?", "come here", "I love you..."
Like the joke about the goldfish when "wish we was all" WE HAVE ALL HAD.
We are not fucking perfect. We took the relationship level by level, as a video game. We lost lives, wasted energy, came in dead ends. We lost. Dispersed in different lives.
Remember that period... I then started to freeze in relations. Drowned in the well of indifference, in the quagmire of neglect, in his return from work in the night-chami-chami...
I knew that while the man is looking for you, then you should cook him soup, and not to lecture. I thought that was not fair! "I, too, lost myself, I have to look for it!" And I was looking for.
Was looking for a story, and the husband was a wizard. The wizard of oz cold. I got cold and left. Thought, freedom warmer.
Of course, there was the situation. Terrible, heartbreaking. We crashed into her and broke up into small pieces. Instead of rallying, became touchy to lick their wounds. To each their own. And waited for each other salvation. And who can save mortally wounded? He would...to collect.
I took a summer dress and went into the autumn. In my hand lived hand son. She smelled like candy and responsibility.
I enjoyed the pride.
— I nothing from you, ' I said to my husband.
... And he nodded. Agreed! The rascal! I say: you are a scoundrel. I was expecting him to run after me, will be enough for the hand to try to shove a plastic card. He knows that with me its a little boy, he knows that I can't earn. But I know how to spend it.
And there's a lot you need. Private life of a resentful mother with a child in a rented apartment is very expensive.
I was expecting that the husband will come around. Went everywhere with the phone. Waited for the call. But he was silent. He was silent so exhausting loud, I sobbed in desperation threw it against the wall. The phone shattered into little pieces and scared my sleeping son. He, a little, woke up and cried.
I hugged him, kissed the top of my head, and thought:
— Well... Now the phone. My total debt, taking into account outstanding apartment in October, about a hundred...
As it turned out, the money — they are everywhere. They just need to see. And we do not see them only when we have the opportunity. Or when we have something – whether pride, status whether, laziness — more important than money. And when you burn bridges, this flame is clearly visible your mistakes and your capabilities.
I suddenly learned how to make. Directly on Tuesday. Because next Thursday is my duty would have been 135.
I said to the Universe: I need one hundred thousand. Urgent. Tomorrow. My phone rang (I found an old device-the slider, it barely worked, but was able to make calls, and more of it is not required).
— It is urgent for me to do tomorrow a wedding, ' said my friend, leading celebrations. — I broke my leg. Lying in the hospital. Leg tied. Script skins. Any chief of the construction Department. How much would you charge?
— 70.
-You ohrenela? I did a 35 would have led.
-For urgency and force majeure. He is the boss or what? He does not want his wedding to disrupt?
The boss didn't want to. He was head of the Department of Construction and knew how to build. And knew that the family – is also a construction. The wedding Foundation. He agreed to 70.
The bride that is the wife was happy. Touched his under the table. He sat, crimson, and smiled a foolish smile of a happy man.
— I wish you love I said goodbye and winked at her and adjusted the panties of the bride, vyhladavanie from his pocket a Flirty lace.
School, he smiled sheepishly in response. Paid 80. A good Builder.
"Thank you, universe, I said mentally. – We got 20".
The next day at school I unexpectedly written premium. 30 thousand.
I decided that 10 is the pullback of the Universe. And spent it on charity. The universe appreciated my generosity. Filled orders. I got out of the crisis.
My zero with the unit my husband was quite a self figure. I am no longer zero, and now I have to take into account. I was proud of. But I really wanted the husband too proud. And we know who lost. And came to confess. And said: "Well, what are you!"
But he didn't say anything. Smiled politely, taking my son. Smiling politely, returning son. That's all communication.
I fell backwards into loneliness. Freedom, it is different. For self-sufficient people she is tempting and smells of adventure. Dating random, unpredictable nights, shameless flirting, greedy kisses in the Elevator with a man who smells of sex and alcohol — and these two notes are woven into the smell of futility. And then a morning escape from someone else's cluttered apartment, where the hell is the second stocking, and how I got here, and never again, and Mary, take me, don't know where, Chertanovo...
And for me freedom smelled like doom. I don't know how to return home after midnight when no one is waiting, not worried, and asks: "shall I meet You?" I'm not interested in the success for the success. I need he looked at me admiringly and said, "Well, what are you!"
I'm not interested to be a unit, I agree to be null, but behind him.
I decided to act. Gave the child the grandfather on the weekend. I bought underwear that accentuates. Stockings with silicone ligature. The heel is 12 centimeters. Hair adorned negligence. Bit his lip, hidden in the vulgar red lipstick. Wore a trench coat over lingerie. I was distilled passion. The cut of the coat was visible silicone grip. While walking to the car, felt Cicciolina. Men looked back.
Came to her ex-husband early in the first. The doorbell rang. Heart jumping out of my chest. No one opens. But if its just not home? But if he's not one?
I was filled with horror. I hadn't thought of that. The year we separated, and I can not allow that, he will look the other way.
Finally, he sleepy, he opened the door.
— What happened? he asked, squinting from the sudden bright light from the stairwell.
— Are you one?
— No.
— No??? – I almost died from choking humiliation.
— No, I'm with the cat. What happened?
Can I come in? I asked and opened his cloak.
He began to squint even more. It was an old family pants, Nana gave Valey, who practiced an economical sewing of men's underwear. They smelled of anything but passion. Grandmother valley they smell, even when fresh...
— Look, you're very sexy, really. But the third night I do not sleep. Project hand over. I have to be up in three hours...
It is something to sputter about "sorry", "I appreciate", and about "another time", while I, humbled, ran up the stairs, cursing the heels, and wiping away tears, a crushed pride.
— Never again! – I cried in the car, smearing Smokey ISA, meaning by "never" — any form of communication with this jerk.
Two days later, I went back to him for permanent residence. He came for me at night. Prepared. With flowers and new underwear.
Also interesting: WHAT do YOU care? Why are we so willing to climb into someone else's life
Why is it so difficult to create a strong relationship in the era of online Dating
I have to do anything To ensure that does not happen in the family was "lucky". Is "endured", "constructed", "created", "developed", "glued". Family is hard work. And no more wise, and more platitudes.
And you say lucky...posted
Author: Olga Savelyeva
P. S. And remember, only by changing their consumption — together we change the world! ©
Join us in Facebook , Vkontakte, Odnoklassniki
Source: www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1021625784564889&set=a.147808775279932.29798.100001524306204&type=3&theater
Train "Moscow-Anapa" was to take us South. We have suffered this vacation and was waiting for him with all my heart.
Three hours before the train my husband and son sat in pre-booked taxis.
And then had some kind of a road collapse. We just stood in traffic for the first two hours, not an inch moving toward the goal. The problem was in the fact that we were three kilometres from the nearest subway station, where you can domchat to the station and go to metro on foot in the broiling sun with a lot of Luggage and a small child in her arms — a real utopia.
Finally, the tube died. In the subway we flew for 30 minutes before the departure of the train. To go — 10 stations. My husband and it was obvious we were late. Because there is another station running, look for the platform...
But we still went. Silently. Immersed in thoughts of our failed vacation. I tried to understand what he wants me to tell the universe that cancelled happiness.
Two year old son had fun jumping on the seat of the car and did not share our condition. I wanted to slap him on the ass, although I have never in my life I have never raised a hand to a child...
We ran into the building of the Kazan station in 15-35. 15-30 our train left. Had to go...
But he stood still, rooted to the spot. I could not believe my eyes, but the scoreboard showed "Moscow-Anapa"...
When we arrived to the last wagon, the train started. We threw things on the go. And the child was passed in the car in the process of running the platform.
Something delayed the departure, explained the conductor, removing the kickstand, when we, panting from the running and stress, trying to catch my breath in the vestibule.
Then we went a long way in composition, looking for our compartment. And when found and closed the door behind him, then my husband and informative hugged, and he nervously laughed and I cried...
That's what I call LUCK. Just got LUCKY.
Something happened that wasn'T supposed to happen. And this is in your favor.
If you're an early spring plant the seeds of tomatoes in a mayonnaise jar, put them on a Sunny windowsill, you can monitor temperature hatched seedlings, then closer to the summer, carefully move the matured seedlings to the country, transplanted them into a new, own — price spent the weekend and sciatica — built greenhouse, will ensure regular irrigation for the whole season, fertilizer and weeding and in the fall you will meet in the greenhouse is a fleshy juicy tomato heart, you will consider you "lucky"? Of course not! It would be the expected result of the daily work.
Here and in the family, in parenting, in building relationships here that carefree "LUCK" does not happen.
I write posts about her husband and children. The reader created the honeymoon way me and my sugar family. But I write the truth. Not making this up. Write about the usual quiet family happiness.
You're fortunate — brand me those who have it is not so. It is easier to cope with injustice: because the word "lucky" sewn machinations of fate, some implicit force majeure, and no shred of responsibility for the result.
The best word for those who are not lucky.
I want to say that we are normal. Average. And we are his "lucky" was walking through the thorns, through which not everyone will pass.
And for the happiness we have paid a heavy price. Unaffordable to many.
And it's this knowledge that I now sell to people. Monetize your successful experience. Sell to those who are "unlucky", your recipes are "lucky".
In relation to my husband and we went through all the stages. The stage of adoption of each other as a life partner, humility, flaws, wisdom to appreciate the dignity.
We are together since University. With first dates (with a bunch of wildflowers), meager wages (only for travel), quick-tempered youth offense ( and I believed you!), protracted quarrels ( don't call me anymore!), burning jealousy ( what Lena???), passionate reconciliations (what, here?), with pasta as the only food to which we have been able to earn (but the parents are not to take a penny!), with first career wins (let the sea take a trip?) and failures (while on my wait), with timid life plans (come on baby?), with the movies under the same blanket (I enjoy you), "will you be my wife?", with the first large purchases ( not credit), with a test with two lines, with "you will have a boy!", from the first laughter of the son, with the nervous breakdowns (you promised to walk with him!), with the collected to mom's suitcases ( not more!), with the return to confession (can't!), with hugs in the hallway, "let's never again?", "come here", "I love you..."
Like the joke about the goldfish when "wish we was all" WE HAVE ALL HAD.
We are not fucking perfect. We took the relationship level by level, as a video game. We lost lives, wasted energy, came in dead ends. We lost. Dispersed in different lives.
Remember that period... I then started to freeze in relations. Drowned in the well of indifference, in the quagmire of neglect, in his return from work in the night-chami-chami...
I knew that while the man is looking for you, then you should cook him soup, and not to lecture. I thought that was not fair! "I, too, lost myself, I have to look for it!" And I was looking for.
Was looking for a story, and the husband was a wizard. The wizard of oz cold. I got cold and left. Thought, freedom warmer.
Of course, there was the situation. Terrible, heartbreaking. We crashed into her and broke up into small pieces. Instead of rallying, became touchy to lick their wounds. To each their own. And waited for each other salvation. And who can save mortally wounded? He would...to collect.
I took a summer dress and went into the autumn. In my hand lived hand son. She smelled like candy and responsibility.
I enjoyed the pride.
— I nothing from you, ' I said to my husband.
... And he nodded. Agreed! The rascal! I say: you are a scoundrel. I was expecting him to run after me, will be enough for the hand to try to shove a plastic card. He knows that with me its a little boy, he knows that I can't earn. But I know how to spend it.
And there's a lot you need. Private life of a resentful mother with a child in a rented apartment is very expensive.
I was expecting that the husband will come around. Went everywhere with the phone. Waited for the call. But he was silent. He was silent so exhausting loud, I sobbed in desperation threw it against the wall. The phone shattered into little pieces and scared my sleeping son. He, a little, woke up and cried.
I hugged him, kissed the top of my head, and thought:
— Well... Now the phone. My total debt, taking into account outstanding apartment in October, about a hundred...
As it turned out, the money — they are everywhere. They just need to see. And we do not see them only when we have the opportunity. Or when we have something – whether pride, status whether, laziness — more important than money. And when you burn bridges, this flame is clearly visible your mistakes and your capabilities.
I suddenly learned how to make. Directly on Tuesday. Because next Thursday is my duty would have been 135.
I said to the Universe: I need one hundred thousand. Urgent. Tomorrow. My phone rang (I found an old device-the slider, it barely worked, but was able to make calls, and more of it is not required).
— It is urgent for me to do tomorrow a wedding, ' said my friend, leading celebrations. — I broke my leg. Lying in the hospital. Leg tied. Script skins. Any chief of the construction Department. How much would you charge?
— 70.
-You ohrenela? I did a 35 would have led.
-For urgency and force majeure. He is the boss or what? He does not want his wedding to disrupt?
The boss didn't want to. He was head of the Department of Construction and knew how to build. And knew that the family – is also a construction. The wedding Foundation. He agreed to 70.
The bride that is the wife was happy. Touched his under the table. He sat, crimson, and smiled a foolish smile of a happy man.
— I wish you love I said goodbye and winked at her and adjusted the panties of the bride, vyhladavanie from his pocket a Flirty lace.
School, he smiled sheepishly in response. Paid 80. A good Builder.
"Thank you, universe, I said mentally. – We got 20".
The next day at school I unexpectedly written premium. 30 thousand.
I decided that 10 is the pullback of the Universe. And spent it on charity. The universe appreciated my generosity. Filled orders. I got out of the crisis.
My zero with the unit my husband was quite a self figure. I am no longer zero, and now I have to take into account. I was proud of. But I really wanted the husband too proud. And we know who lost. And came to confess. And said: "Well, what are you!"
But he didn't say anything. Smiled politely, taking my son. Smiling politely, returning son. That's all communication.
I fell backwards into loneliness. Freedom, it is different. For self-sufficient people she is tempting and smells of adventure. Dating random, unpredictable nights, shameless flirting, greedy kisses in the Elevator with a man who smells of sex and alcohol — and these two notes are woven into the smell of futility. And then a morning escape from someone else's cluttered apartment, where the hell is the second stocking, and how I got here, and never again, and Mary, take me, don't know where, Chertanovo...
And for me freedom smelled like doom. I don't know how to return home after midnight when no one is waiting, not worried, and asks: "shall I meet You?" I'm not interested in the success for the success. I need he looked at me admiringly and said, "Well, what are you!"
I'm not interested to be a unit, I agree to be null, but behind him.
I decided to act. Gave the child the grandfather on the weekend. I bought underwear that accentuates. Stockings with silicone ligature. The heel is 12 centimeters. Hair adorned negligence. Bit his lip, hidden in the vulgar red lipstick. Wore a trench coat over lingerie. I was distilled passion. The cut of the coat was visible silicone grip. While walking to the car, felt Cicciolina. Men looked back.
Came to her ex-husband early in the first. The doorbell rang. Heart jumping out of my chest. No one opens. But if its just not home? But if he's not one?
I was filled with horror. I hadn't thought of that. The year we separated, and I can not allow that, he will look the other way.
Finally, he sleepy, he opened the door.
— What happened? he asked, squinting from the sudden bright light from the stairwell.
— Are you one?
— No.
— No??? – I almost died from choking humiliation.
— No, I'm with the cat. What happened?
Can I come in? I asked and opened his cloak.
He began to squint even more. It was an old family pants, Nana gave Valey, who practiced an economical sewing of men's underwear. They smelled of anything but passion. Grandmother valley they smell, even when fresh...
— Look, you're very sexy, really. But the third night I do not sleep. Project hand over. I have to be up in three hours...
It is something to sputter about "sorry", "I appreciate", and about "another time", while I, humbled, ran up the stairs, cursing the heels, and wiping away tears, a crushed pride.
— Never again! – I cried in the car, smearing Smokey ISA, meaning by "never" — any form of communication with this jerk.
Two days later, I went back to him for permanent residence. He came for me at night. Prepared. With flowers and new underwear.
Also interesting: WHAT do YOU care? Why are we so willing to climb into someone else's life
Why is it so difficult to create a strong relationship in the era of online Dating
I have to do anything To ensure that does not happen in the family was "lucky". Is "endured", "constructed", "created", "developed", "glued". Family is hard work. And no more wise, and more platitudes.
And you say lucky...posted
Author: Olga Savelyeva
P. S. And remember, only by changing their consumption — together we change the world! ©
Join us in Facebook , Vkontakte, Odnoklassniki
Source: www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1021625784564889&set=a.147808775279932.29798.100001524306204&type=3&theater
