One great thing about autumn: Music…!

About Us

Welcome to our little virtual corner! I’m a single mother raising my wonderful son, Ruben, who has grown into a remarkable teenager. For years, I was the sole breadwinner as a Krav Maga instructor, balancing the challenges of parenthood and work on my own.

When Ruben started kindergarten, I embarked on a new journey by studying healthcare management at Semmelweis University, specializing in health tourism management. After graduating, I began working in my field and experienced firsthand the tragic impact of the COVID-19 pandemic while serving as a healthcare manager in a state hospital.

As the pandemic subsided, I transitioned into private healthcare, where I currently work as a practice manager. Meanwhile, our family moved from a small town to Vác, a charming historic Danube riverside city near Budapest.

Here, we embrace the everyday moments and joys of life together. If you want to hear more stories about us, you’re warmly invited to visit the original Daysonpaper blog at S&Ru’s Diary on daysonpaper.blog.hu.

So I decided to try living for a year on an international stage and see if there are other mothers in similar shoes for whom this diary could be a support on the harder days—just as it has been a support for me when I was able to look beyond the difficulties and sincerely believe in my own strength.

Thank you for stopping by!

Over the past few years, I’ve been trying (okay, sometimes maybe a little too much) to gently guide Ruben towards music, because I have to admit—I’m definitely biased here. Sure, you can live without music, but honestly, it’s just not the same. And if someone only enjoys listening, well, just imagine how magical it is to actually create music yourself!

Ru has been talking about wanting to learn the cello since he was very little. Even back in kindergarten, he mentioned it (yes, I did my gentle parental homework there too—just softly pointing out that classical music and instruments exist, and then letting him discover what truly speaks to him). But back then, he was still too young to really focus on something he didn’t yet feel the power of. Let’s be honest: finger exercises and endless scales aren’t exactly thrilling, and you certainly can’t expect a three-year-old’s heart to leap with joy over them.

This year, though, I finally felt the time was right to enroll him in the local art school where I once studied myself. Walking through those doors was such a strange feeling—I even caught myself thinking I probably hadn’t practiced enough for that day’s lesson! Holding my son’s hand, signing the papers that my own mother used to bring home all those years ago… it was surreal.

At the school’s opening ceremony, Ru and I wandered around the building. I stopped to say hello to my old teachers (oh, how I loved being there with them! Why didn’t I realize back then how much joy they brought me?), chatting with them as an adult in the very hallways where I first met them as a little girl twenty years ago, and where I said goodbye to them twelve years ago, stepping out of my teenage years. It’s such a strange feeling to realize my son is now living moments that feel like they happened to me just yesterday.If this school brings him as much joy—and teaches him as many lessons about patience, humility, and hard work—as it did me, then I know he’s in the right place. And after his first lessons, it became clear that if I had any doubts before, Ru has found his own little island in music where he can