The ups and downs in the development of two de Silviątek on people, there are moments of horror, of joy and laughter, which is not easy to describe. It gives them relish the situation, sometimes minka child, something intangible. Such moments difficult to document in words. Then the young mother the most painful lack of talent, but somehow I would not know how, like the mayor of Sienkiewicz's novel, which could indeed start from the infamous phrase, "like", but still not doing it already.
In fact, a lack of talent in the writing does not bother to continually tries to prove. It hurts to live but when commenting on the progress of the branches, I get on the transience, delicacies, children's helmets for connoisseurs of creativity, the narrative requires a workshop, techniques and lightness. However, the thing I do not lack is bravery and fierce desire to kidnap a goose chase, but in advance I know I can not go. The second feature that pushes me toward niemożliwemu, there is hope-winowajczyni including raw spot in the cheesecake, because I bake cheesecakes for many years with the same, the eternal lack of success, is tirelessly hoping that maybe someday I will come out.
Biedzę on for months more of this situation.
was evening and we put the younger child to sleep, and senior promised that he can still podokazywać on condition of silence. Suddenly I heard the melodic sounds of the harmonica. I know none of the songs do not resemble, however, were a pleasure to the ear. Mateo had to sleep, so taking a break from their operations Dzidka asked to stop playing music. Our older child is in fact controlled by voice, not just any parent, and what-not always true. This time, apparently did not think it was because I still melted melodious sounds around. Once again admonished Dzidka theatrical whisper.
-I do not play. He said the son-haunted.
Then he woke up in me Investigation gut. I checked Dzidka-actually played nicely, did not show any evidence that he was the culprit. I checked de Silva, because you never know what will dawn in your head aging male crabby wife at his side-not. Then I looked to the children's room. Mateo was sitting in the twilight, the rails of his crib. Adopted a pose like a decadent life of a prisoner or an experienced western and played the hero. The melody was rather romantic-sentimental, made up of long, quiet sounds. He composed perfectly with the situation of exile and loneliness. I
bard zawieszczył : "... each of you could, alone, imprisoned, thought and faith, and lift dump thrones" ... Or discover
-... great talent at the age of 1.5 years-"I said with a smile poets.
Our family life is full of klimaciki and delicacies, which can not pass, which of course does not interfere in making attempts to describe these wonders, if only so that their magic is not gone forever.
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