Happy!

I've been wanting to be back in the work force for some time. I love being a mother, but I also love being a working mother. Today marks my second month of being back to work, and not just any work. A full-time extremely fast-paced and demanding job, and I'm loving it! I wasn't sure how my kids would feel about this, but they haven't complained. The few hours we spend together after I get back from a long day at work are more fulfilling than this last year I spent at home, when I wasn't at my happiest. I notice I tend to do more when I'm working, I get so much more done and I do it all wholeheartedly. Hey, I'm actually trying to be back to blogging! That is one thing I really miss doing!

Here's to new beginnings, and to blogging!

Being a Mother in the Amman of the 21st Century

As a Ammani mother of the 21^st Century, I was very reluctant to allow my kids to go off to the  ” 7ara”.

Our streets are not as safe as they used to be when we were little, and the cozy Ammani society we grew up in is nothing but fond memories.

Memories, of all the 7ara kids playing Shor6A/7aramieh in someone’s vast garden,  of boys kicking a ball around a dead-end street, and of girls playing 6ommayeh behind huge fig and berry trees. Memories of everyone rushing towards one’s mom who just made Zait and Za3tar sandwiches for everybody, and of a little boy of 5 at the neighbor’s door asking to borrow a couple of lemons for mom to finish off that Mlo5ieh dish.

That was the Amman of the Seventies and the Eighties that I grew up in; the small town where everybody knew who’s who and where the street and the pavement were an extension of everyone’s front yard.

But today, in the new, modern, vast and crowded Amman, that I love ever so dearly, how do I allow my kids to go off to the 7ara, when I don’t even know my next door neighbors? That was not a question I took lightly, because whether I liked it or not; I knew there would come a day when my kids wouldn't accept things to stay the way they are. I saw it in their eyes, in their eager gazes as they saw other kids playing in the parking lot, or chattering away on the building stairs. I saw it in their shy smiles at other kids who smiled at them, and in their readiness to go fetch anything we forgot in the car hoping they would bump into one of the other kids their age.

I was an overprotective mother, and I knew it. I was still not ready to change.

Then it happened. One of the building boys asked my son to come and play with them, and my son was reluctant to even reply with a yes or a no. He blushed before refusing politely, and my heart sank! I knew he wanted to, but he didn't find it in his heart to ask me in front of the other boys, knowing that I would probably say no. He knew where I stood on this, and was clever enough to keep face in front of his peers.

That night, I did not sleep!

I felt I was on a crossroads in my parenting strategy. I was either going to be the overprotective mom I have been so far, in my ten years of motherhood, and raise safe, but unexposed kids, or was going to loosen up my leash, to allow my kids company and experience they so eagerly craved, while working on relaxing my fears of the other. After all, these are just kids and this is only our neighborhood, it’s not like I’m allowing them to socialize with the Big Bad wolf or sending them to run errands in the woods. Chill, I told myself, as I fought the urge to wake up my husband to discuss my worries.

My husband did not give me a straight answer on this one, but he sort of played down my fears, and told me it was bound to happen. He was not sure whether this is the right time but he knew it was only that, a matter of time.

And a matter of time it was!

As we were coming home from a shopping trip a few days later, the neighbors’ kids were gathered in the empty corner of the parking floor. You could see cheerful happy faces, boys and girls very close to my kids age, giggling, screaming and, jumping with excitement, and I knew I would want to be there with them if I were their age.  My kids were shocked when I told them they could go and join, my daughter thought I might be kidding, but when I showered her with rules on how not to play on the street and how not to go further than the pavement in front of our building and how to take care of her younger brother and how not to be late….. that’s when she knew mom had come to her senses!

It goes without saying that I kept moving between the front window of my living room, that overlooks the street, to the kitchen balcony that overlooks the parking floor, for the next two hours. But my kids came back home, rosy cheeked, excited and full of life. They had just made new friends, and how easy that is when you’re young and innocent. Ever since that day, they have become great friends, they visit each other nearly every day to play with their Play Stations, they compete as to who is “al3ab” than the other, and boast of their achievements. When the weather is right, you can count on finding the whole pack outdoors playing about, teasing each other, and just being kids.

I did not send my kids off to the “7ara”. The “7ara” called for them, and when it did, they embraced it with open arms!

The Jordanian Dream, Only Better!

 

 

 

Warning:  Long post that took around a  month to write.

 

Turning down this job offer was not an easy thing to do.

 

In my husband's words, this offer was THE ultimate Jordanian dream; only better!

A government job, with pay from an international organization.

 

"Think about it," He said jokingly. "Isn't it every jordanian's dream? The stability of a government job, where no one can termintae your employment, where you can leave work on impulse, and get to be called 3otooftek?"

 

3otoofti did consider it very well indeed. It was a good job afterall. Very Interesting project, not your typical monochromatic government job, a really good salary, and short working hours. This could have been the perfect deal for me, BUT. I'd only started my new job exactly a week earlier. In one week, I had a sense of belonging to this new company, and I thought it would be a better atmosphere for me to work in. It was certainly more demanding than the government one, with longer hours, and a little less salary to start with, but very promising prospects for career and financial developments. I loved all the challenges that this job offered me, especially after the last two years I spent at my old job, which were too...mundane, to say the least. But, I hated working till five in the evening!

During this week, I felt I hardly saw my kids, and while I sympathize with all full time working mothers, I'm just not used to this. I have been working part time for the last eight years, and the increase in working hours was just too much to handle. Government offices work till three and everyone was telling me what a normal thing it is to take daily leaves whenever I needed, the government job paid me more, for the time being, and the project was quite interesting, so why wouldn't I accept? I thought about this for days. I did not sleep for two days in a row. I wanted the job I was in, with the working hours that the other one offered. This current job is in a new field to me; Project Management, I was already enjoying the work, and liked the people in the office, and felt that I fit in with the crowd much sooner than I expected, the pay will probably increase soon, and I felt appreciated, but most importantly, I now know what working here is all about, while the government job's atmosphere was too vague for me.

 

And I'm a person who hates change.

 

I hate change so much, that I spent 12 years in the same place. I'd been comfortable, work was convenient, and I had every reason to be content. Then came a time where I felt it's getting a bit too boring. I realized the later I stay, the harder it would get for me to quit. I toyed with the thought for a few months, and waited for the right moment to do it. The straw that cut the camels back did not take long to come, and I quit. It was much easier than I thought. My decision was well thought and happened at the right time, I did not feel the slightest bit of remorse.

 

Since then, my professional life has taken quite a few roller coaster rides and has cost me a lot of sleepless nights, over decisions that I could not make, none of which to compare with this huge dilemma that I found myself in last month.

 

Do I leave, do I stay? Do I choose a good job that offered me convenience, or a good job that offered me challenge? I don't mean to sound ungrateful, people would love to be in my shoes, with two good things to choose from, but I was really confused. It was no fun not knowing where I would be soon. Not having a schedule, not having a target, being restless, it was nerve wrecking, but my mind was set at last. I can not afford spending two extra hours away from the kids. It was too much for the whole family to deal with us and I decided: "Hello to the world of being a government employee!"

 

My husband thought it terribly amusing. Of all the people around me, Samer knows EXCATLY how I feel, and when I am weighing things in my mind, and give him a brief opinion, he knows how I reached this point, how my mind worked, and what sort of factors brought me to this decision. So he felt my confusion, and promised to be supportive in any decision I make. But he still found it amusing. 3otooftek was my new code name! He offered to buy me Cigars for those long field trips behind the driver in these big government cars. He teased me about the famous jordnaian angry-face (kashara), he wanted to know if it will be reserved for working hours or will it be my new trait!

 

Then came the day where I had to break the news to my new employers, that after one week of work, I was quitting. That was not funny. How do I do this? Yes, there was a three-month grace period, and yes it was only normal to leave during this time, but I felt so awkward doing that, when there was nothing I did not like about this place. Things started easing off the moment I spoke. The two people I had to talk with were extremely nice, which really helped me to think clearly. They understood why anyone in his right mind would go to that new job, and were truly genuine. Most importantly, they made me an offer of shorter work hours, and that did it for me. I immediately knew I wanted to stay. Shorter hours would make my life much easier. I did not negotiate the pay, since it really did not matter as much. Private sector salaries increase substantially more than government sector,at least I doubt they will do like the government person who made me the other offer, when he said: "Oh, you will have an annual increase of 20", and I was like: "That's good, 20% is good!" and he's like: " 20 jds!"

 

And so I stayed! It's been tiring and demanding, but also challenging and rewarding. I hope it stays like this, but if it doesn't; yeah well, it will only take me twelve more years to make up my mind and quit again!

June 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

On The Eloquence of Amin Maalouf

 

I'm reading Amin Maalouf's Ports Of Call, and while his books always prove to be a pleasure, this one seems to be even more captivating. If not for the great story and events,the personalized history telling and the depth of characters, which are common traits in all his books, then it's for the artistic way in which he uses his words, the way he expresses himself, and how touching his writings can be. I keep coming back to these couple of lines, in which he represents ever so eloquently, how a typical Arabian father figure, is looked at differently, according to whether you're a boy or a girl:

 

 

'It was as if for her, my father was a roof; for me, a ceiling. The same words, the same tone of voice that reassured her and gave her confidence, unsettled me and made me gasp for air"

 

Absolutely Brilliant!

April 2008

Never Again

Twenty minutes through my day, I'd already decided. I don't want to be home alone with my son: Never, Ever, Again!

It’s Saturday, and that's his day off from Nursery School. I'd just quit my job like three weeks ago, but haven't been staying home much since then. Apparently, this is my first Saturday at home, alone, with my four year old master. I'd made up my mind, that like last Sunday, when I finished all my chores early, and enjoyed the rest of my day with Raya, this Saturday would be Zaid's treat. We'd play and paint and watch TV, and not once will I ask for a break from Dexter, I will enjoy it when he cries at his sister " You Know what, you are stuuuuupid, and you know what, you are stuuuuupid" just as much as my kids do, and instead of lecturing what a bad thing to say to one's sister, I will admit to the humor in that and actually laugh! I will bring out the long-lost (or so they think) messy arts box, with the glue and the glitter, the water colours and the Guache Paint, and everything's gonna be ok -Just as long as we spread those disposable nylon sheets all over the place. I was geared up for a lovely morning, where I bond, with my only son, who is loads of fun, with his wit and big mouth and funny gestures..I promise you all, this was my plan, and it was aborted right away!

It was quite the scene, seeing Raya off at the door, with demands that she stays to share his fun. Needless to say, he hates her Sundays off just as much as the rest of us do, but Cbeebies was on, and Balamory saved the day once again. I left him to watch some of that while I started out in the kitchen. I was filling up the dishwasher when he sneaked up behind me and wanted to do it himself. His fingers hardly missed the sharp knife sticking its pointed tip out of the cutlery box, but he still insisted this was a job for him to do.

He had to remove the soap block I just put in the dishwasher, because he insisted the powdery one was better.. of course it is; since it gives him another job, to add rinse in the next container. .With an “Allah yjeebek ya tolet el ro7!” I had to succumb.

There were a few big items that did not fit in the dishwasher, and as soon as I stood in front of the sink, I found him, on a chair standing between me and the tap..it was either me  or him on that sink, and obviously..it was him. I left him to mess around with the water for a few minutes while I started on my lassagne..of course he was there to peel the onions, and he was there to grate the cheese, he was there to layer the lassagne sheets and he was there to spread the white sauce. Now I did not mind any of that as long he stayed away from the stove, and that he did. I assumed, that while I was cooking by the stove, he was happily playing with his Leap Frog magnets on the fridge since the only thing resonating through my ears was :”B says beh, B says beh, every letter makes a sound and B says beh!” I was even singing along, enjoying the fact that at last, the kid found something to distract him. The cooking was done, and it was time for a load of laundry. Zaid runs down and fetches the soap box from under the sink, opens the washing machine drawer and fills it with the right amount of soap. My son would make an ideal husband, I tell you..he is very helpful around the house, with the things he is NOT asked to do. So before I turn the dial to the required cycle, I realize the soap drawer is not closing very well. This is new I thought, how come? Not that it’s a big deal or anything, but I sort of smelled something fishy. After some inspection of the drawer and its compartment, I was able to fish out a nicely decorated pink Barbie room drawer, right at the tip of  that pipe behind the compartment. It MUST have been me who stuffed it in there because Zaid was terribly offended when I accused him, and denied it ever so innocently. So as long as that was out of the way, I started my washing cycle and left the kitchen. 

15 minutes later, Zaid was already demanding a snack. He’d had his breakfast earlier, but this boy is a nibbler, he has to be munching on something all day long. Luckily he likes vegetables and a snack of sliced peppers is more than welcome. Back to the kitchen, to find it flooded with soapy foamy water. It wasn’t that difficult to decide where the water was coming from, since the washing machine was throwing its guts out, from under the soap drawer and the timer knobs. OH MY GOD! My washing machine..my trusted washing machine that has never failed me in its seven years of service. Zaid stays at home ONE Saturday, and manages to ruin it. Being the disbeliever that I am, I had to check again that this was not really a disaster, probably a one time thing, that I really don’t want to know why and how it happened, so again, I rewind the cycle, and the machine starts filling up the water nicely. No signs of disaster…khalas! I can wipe that ugly image out of my mind. It’s like it never happened. I spent a few more minutes draining all that water from the floor, and watching the machine, begging it not to break down on me, not in the same month when we have to pay two huge payments for the current schools, and a third for Zaid’s new school. But my trusted washing machine seemed to be doing well and did not mind me taking Zaido’s snack and enjoying it with him over a game of  -dinosaurs go extinct- Again.

Blogging keeps me sane, I realized, a few minutes later.

The illusion of safety did not last long..soon, the kitchen was vibrating with loud thumping sounds, I went there to find my trusted –but now crazy-washing machine in the middle of the kitchen, with streams of water running down its front, heading towards the kitchen table, with steady steps like it was coming to get it.

I put it off, left it there, repeated my vows from a few hours ago, never to be home alone with Zaid ever again, and typed away! AH, THE RELIEF!

March 2008

18

I was asked to list 6 things one should do before turning 18. 

It took me forever to think of six, but here goes. 18 is basically end of school years, and I think very fondly of this time of my life. I think school years help shape up one’s personality more than we expect. Later on in life, one tends to change, to adapt to life around him, but as time goes by, you feel that you are rediscovering your true self. And to me, my true self is very similar to what made up that little girl, sitting on the church steps in her school, exchanging life experiences with a bunch of her girlfriends over zait w za3tar sandwiches.

So what ARE the six things I believe every person SHOULD do before turning 18?

-         Find your best friend;

School best friends ARE the best. No matter how far or how close you are, no matter how often or how rarely you communicate, and even after years of separation, you KNOW, you can just take your phone and call her , spill your heart out and she WILL understand!!

-         Learn a second language;

Not only because it’s much easier to learn when you’re younger, but also because you get exposed to a whole different culture at a very early age.

-         Climb a tree and stay there;

Spend an hour, think, meditate, ponder upon life. Forget about your spring allergies and your puffy eyes, once you’re older it won’t be that easy to find a tree that welcomes you..in fact it would be cruel to the trees!

-         Discipline yourself to sit down and read through a whole book;

While this seems to be taken for granted by some, reading does not come naturally to all, and as you grow older, you only get busier so if you’re not into reading at an early age, chances are you never will be.

-         Learn about Compassion;

Feel for others and help them. Give some of your time, effort and money to helping others and learn that it could feel just as good as receiving.

 -         Stand up for yourself;

And for others who you think are right and need your support. Learn to speak up your mind. Adopt a cause, even if it was pushing the math test till Monday, rally for support, and get things done your way. Be strong and in control.

There, this concludes my wisdom of the day.

February 2008

Local Media Misses the Point, Again!

When more than 20 people are lost in a horrific road accident;

When tens of families are grieving their own losses of deaths and permanent injuries;

When parents are trying to sniff deceased childrens' bodies to find their own kids' leftovers, because the bodies are totally deformed;

When other children are lying in the arms of total strangers, till they find out if their own parents made it or not;

When there are real faces behind the names;

When there are real lives behind the numbers;

Innocent people who were killed in a flash;

Leaving behind grief and sorrow;

You want your media to focus on the things that matter.

You want to know how the accident happened.

Why it happened.

How it could have been prevented.

How to make sure it doesn't happen again.

You want to meet the families and share their pain.

You want to know who X was and what kind of life he was living.

You want to hear about what  his hope and his dreams were.

You want to relate to his loved ones' loss.

You DO NOT want to hear about the great job that the Civil Defence people did.

You do not want  to hear about the great equipment they just added to their fleet that came in really handy in this situation.

Because if you just lost a loved one, you cant see how great their performance was.

I agree that 'Nashama al wa6an' did do a great job, and credit is well due.

But think of the families in grief.

Don't they deserve to see that something is being done to honor their losses.

Something is done to provide them and their country with a decent way to bid their loved ones farewell.

It's good to appreciate the efforts put in at the moment ,but Jordan Television and Radio Fann are missing the point. Instead of dedicating their time to praise of authorities,they should be allowing all of Jordan to grieve together over this horrible accident, for hope that we learn to be more careful, more attentive and more responsible.

With more than twenty deaths to mourn, I say the pat on the shoulder CAN wait.


January 2008