How I met my mom.

They say we don't chose parents.
I'm not sure, but even if so, then I know the exact moment when I caught "the bird of luck" in my life. It was when I got my mom.
I was expected (or even supposed) to be a guy. My name would be Anton and I would do professional dancing. This was the plan. But surprise, surprise the girl was born. My parents and the rest of the relatives were shocked (like Finland gets shocked every winter with the heavy snow), and obviously didn't know what to do (again Finland-snow-parallel). Just because they didn't know what to do and how to dispose all the blue clothes bought (in Russia it's the must since the childhood: girls go pink, boys-blue, and no exceptions) , my folks didn't know as well how to call me.

I think it was then when my parents lost common ground in life. Anyways, mom wanted to call me Anya (full is Anna), dad insisted on Elena (in honer of his grandmother who lived like a 200-years-old-life). The battle could be never-ending and I could be still named "child-the-1st-of-December-number-one-hundred-something"  (or even worse, they could decide to name me after a saint of my day of birth. Who were surprise, surprise, only guys: Nikolai, Platon, Roman). BUT my dad made it easy and sneaky enough (in the good sense of this word) wrote the name you all know on the official paper while my mom was sleeping.

That's it. This is how I became Elena, Lena, Lenochka, Lenka, Alenka (say it as Alönka), and Lenusik to name just a few.


My mom said the first thing i did when the nurse brought me to her was to smile and say miaow!
My first word was "Day!" ("Give me" in English). I bet it couldn't be this one, they just missed the true-first-word. It must been "peace", "cookies" or "go vegetarian", and it really drives me crazy that the truth was lost.
And just to show you how much my parents cared for small details I could mention that it took them almost a month to notice that I have eyes of different colour (right-blue, left-green. Surprise, Surprise, if you didn't know that, it means that you know me as much as I'm aware of the Twilight story. And I'm not!)
((And if you've seen my eyes, you are or once have been very important to me. Anyways))

But don't think that it was just about my mom and dad, other relatives also participated in my upbringing.
My dad's side granny fed me with chocolate candies even before I got my first tooth, and my mom's side granny missed the moment when I fell down in the boiler casing while sitting on the potty-chair and singing cheerfully.
But al least they never forgot me in the kinder-garden.

Well, actually, the idea to write a post was nothing to do with my old childhood memories, they just came out self-invited. And the reason was that I had a WONDERFULL childhood. And there's no mistake in my word "wonderfuLL". It was FULL of love, understanding, care and people I will always keep in my heart. 

My mom always thought me to be an honest person, hard-working and to treat people worthily (which includes giving somebody a hard time if a person deserved it). She wanted me to be a lady, have my own style and speak German.
She always says that there's a great difference between "i wanted to do" ("i was doing but didn't finish, didn't succeed") and "i did" (in Russian they are the same verbs but in different cases).
The result only matters, not how hard you were trying (c)

My mom gets very much disappointed with me all the time: with my accounting skills (both academic and keeping a budget), with me calling my grandmom so rarely (but it's only because she always asks if I eat enough and if I have already found a guy worth marrying, and I never have anything new to tell her concerning these two).
My mom get's sad because I never listen to her and always choose the wrong men. And, of course, because I didn't want to study German when I was a kid and now I have to regret (the thing about the German language is that mom was English and German languages teacher).

But I know two things: that my mom loves me, and that she's my first and forever love.
Just in a while I will open a mail-box from her. It went a long-long road from Altay to Saint-Peterburg, took a couple of days off there and with the help of Anechka (help I can't over-rate) finally arrived in Helsinki.
In the box there are new dresses for mom's lady. My mom is my favourite clothes designer, and, of course,  mom knows that it's inside that matters (But who will look inside if you don't have a nice dress and high heels?)

I will call my mom tomorrow and say that I love her. With my mom Christmas is not once a year!