One Cup of Coffee. Extremely Personal Post!

 

I made ONE cup of coffee this morning. I hate making coffee for one. It comes out cold and flavorless.

 

I could not sleep at all last night, my husband left to the airport at 1.00 pm. I thought I'd get some sleep after his plane leaves at 3.00, but by then there was only 3 hours left before I had to wake kids up and get them ready to school, so it wasn't really worth it. I can never get any sleep when the kids and I are alone at home. The slightest sound can get me all agitated and worried, and those water turtles they just don't settle down and sleep do they? And how about our old lady neighbor? what's an old woman like that doing awake after 1.00 pm? isn't it way past her bed time?I've decided I really hate having an old lady live right under our apartment, (YES, I'M MEAN,shoot me!!) But screaming voices from Egyptian series resonating through my house all night long is not exactly my idea of relaxation.

 

 

As expected, I fell asleep less than an hour before my alarm rang, and I had to rush things ready to get kids to school on time, we are always late, even with the two of us racing through the morning, so how am I expected to do it by myself. We were late, but managed to get my daughter in the school gate seconds before the janitor locked it, otherwise, I would have had to do the walk of shame from the school's main gate to her classroom and apologize for being late, AGAIN!

 

I miss my husband already and counting days till his return..5 days from now ( AGAIN, I'M SPOILT, CAN'T HANDLE BEING ALONE FOR EVEN A FEW DAYS, SHOOT ME NOW IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY) I felt weird ordering just one cup of coffee from Cups and Kilos before heading to work,my coffee at home turned icy cold before I had teh chance to drink any of it, and this turkish coffee we have in the office does nothing to wake me up, absolutely nothing, and gives me heartburn, so unless someone is ready to read my cup, then I usually pass. and how weird is that that people actually do stick those bumper stickers on their cars: "I buy my coffee from Cups and Kilos"? They do a great job, I know, but so does "Shaher" with my laundry, so would I want to stick this on my car: "I do my laundry at Shaher's?"

 

Sipping on my coffee in the car, and pasing by my kids school again, I saw this mom who I always bump into there. She just carries her children around like an accessory, I've decided. She's always walking and looking around at people, checking out what  reflections her image leaves in their faces. Never having a bad hair day, never with the same handbag two days in a row. And today, she has her dog with her, dropping kids off to school..HOW CUTE! iffffff well maybe if she went a bit easier on her hair and makeup this morning, she might have been able to avoid having her child miss the first class. And the dog, what's with the dog? Didn't she ever hear that even Mary's lamb was kicked out of school? and HE's a celebrity! She's really into this Legally Blonde role, it seems, except Witherspoon did not match her pink stillettos with her eye shadow, nor with her bling bling handbag and track suite. (Track suite, stilettoes?no matter how many other women you see doing this, this just does not make it right!!)

 

I made it to the office, finished my coffee, had some mint tea, did not pass on the Turkish coffee, in spite of the heartburn and the absence of any coffee cup fortune tellers, did not do much work, hardly concentrated long enough to type this post, talked to my husband twice, sent each other 6 messages, and will be rushing back home to pack my bag and head to mom's..I certainly need to get some sleep tonight.

November 2007

Parental Paradox

Parenting has been proving to be a bigger challenge than I expected it to be.

 

You want to be the fun parent, but you also want to be the firm parent!

 

You want to be patient, but you have so little time to let things go at your kids' pace!

 

You want to make sure you never compare your kid to others, but it's such a competitive world out there you can't help it!

 

You want to be fair with your kids, but you often end up taking the naughty one's side to get rid of his nagging!

 

You want to teach them to be humble, but you also want them to have pride!

 

You want to teach them to be nice to other kids, but you also want to teach them to stand up for themselves!

 

You want them to be bold and frank, but you also want them to be polite!

 

You want them to be natural and spontaneous, but you still want them to think ahead!

 

You want to guide them, but you also want them to be able to make their own decisions!

 

You want to offer them the world, but you don't want to spoil them!

 

You want to help them, but you also want them to learn to be independent!

 

You want to have them so close to you, but you still want to give them their space!

 

You want to have them so close to you, but you still need YOUR space!

 

You want to show them off, but you don't want to embarrass them!

 

You want them to be normal kids, but you also want them to be special!

 

You want to give them their freedom, but you can't deprive them from your protection!

 

You see yourself in them, so you push them to fulfill your own dreams, but you still want them to be happy pursuing theirs!

 

Does it ever get easier?

November 2007

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Will Not Turn Into That Sort Of Mom, I Will Not Turn Into That Sort Of Mom,I Will Not Turn Into Th

I need to chill!!

 

Seriously!!

 

I can not believe I did this to my daughter!! I copied the first 35 pages of her math book and made her solve all the problems in one afternoon. What was I thinking? I kept her by my side from 3-8 with a couple of ten minute TV breaks..I would not even let her play because I knew it would be difficult to get her to stop and come back to finish.

 

The Notebook said: Math Work Paper,Revision of First Unit.

 

Not test, but Work Paper!!

 

So, let me get this straight: They have to revise the first unit, they will be given a work paper with problems to solve, and this work paper will be graded and handed back in, in a couple of days. Sounds like a test to me, so no matter how much they try to play down the grades thing, it will still matter to every parent, child and teacher..but did I really need to push her over the edge and solve every damn question in the stupid confusing book that left even me perplexed at what some of the answers should be ?

 

In fact, had it not been for my husband's wise words, I am very ashamed to say I could have made her go over the problems the teacher has written in the notebook too!!

 

But I know why I did this!

 

I'd promised myself a long time ago that I will never turn into that sort of mom.

But when we're doing her daily homework, I can hardly get her attention long enough to finish the things that the teacher has asked to be done, and as much as I'd love to go over all the new concepts they had covered in all subjects, I can hardly ever do any of that.

I like to know what they are discussing in science and in ijtima3iat (social studies sounds like such a big word) because I can casually point out some related issues during our day to day life, and I know how good this is for her, and how much more she enjoys it when we are talking about different animal species, or about the sun's movement while we're driving around in the car, or baking a cake, instead of holding the book and reading from it. I know she learns much more math when I give her the money to pay for our shopping herself than when she solves 35 pages of math problems in one go..but  I never have the time to do this..I am either too busy to look at all her books, or she is not interested to just browse through the books with me and show me what they've done after she'd just finished studying for her dictation!

And so, nearly two months into the school year, I found myself pressured to cover all the Math concepts they learned in one go. I had an urgent need to do this because I did not want to feel like I am not doing my duty, as a mother , to give her the best education and teaching a mother can offer..later on there will be days when I fall short in any attempt to help her, there will be calculus and Physics and I'll have to pretend I am really busy than not to show her that I have actually forgotten it all, and that I could not do solve differential equations to save my life! But it's rather early to get into that!! I know parents tend to push their children in order to help them achieve, I know we want the best for our children, and wish they would excel in everything, but I was a little girl once, I did not want to do my homework, I did not want to spend more than an hour studying, and I wanted to play , read books and watch TV, so why wouldn't I giver her all she wants, and take care of her studies reasonably, never forcing her to do things at times when she did not want to do them? Why did this work out for me, but is not good enough for her?

 Because I want her to be better than me..but I should realize that it's ok if she did not get full marks every time, although she does, most of the time, it's ok if her handwriting is not at its best every time, and it's ok if she did not come back with the Excellent Student ribbon every week ..and it's not the end of the world if she forgets one of her books at school, or loses her sharpener every day..She is seven, woman!!for God's sake, chill!! It's only second grade!!

 

Now, excuse me while I go copy this fifty time, I will not turn into that sort of mom, I will not turn into that sort of mom, I will no....

October 2007

My Wisdom of the Day

 

 

You can not see the beauty of Rain unless you are warm and sheltered.

One has to remember to be thankful more often!

January 2007

What If I was a Half-Skilled Construction Worker?

Construction sites are not a good place for a woman to spend her day, even if she was an architect.

But, this is not about a worker's hormonal rush that produces wolf whistles and camouflaged comments, nor about flashing bottoms that are a trademark of any construction site anywhere in  the world. Rather, it's about the emotional burden such a day would cast on you, and about how, never again, will you take your meal or bath time for granted.

From eight till seven, yesterday, I had three workers at home, pulling down parts of the ceiling and wall for an interior staircase to be mounted between the house and the roof. The foreman claimed it would be an hour's work, but the poor people were banging walls, operating demolition tools, and removing debris till seven in the evening .My continuous presence around them was to ensure no unnecessary parts would be pulled  down, and to try and contain the mess they would be creating when debris starts falling down to the house itself. I was a big nuisance to them, I know. They had to keep asking me to move out of the way, they were not used to the constant warnings I was giving them: watch out for your hands, mind the step, careful with the wires, move the rocks before they fall down, don't mix the cement on the tiles, cover the ground with plastic,...,they MUST have hated me. But the day ended with me developing a new-found feeling of compassion for them that I have never felt this strongly before. I have always felt for people who are less fortunate, I have sometimes tried to help with whatever I could do or give, but never have I been into this much thought on how they live their lives. They use their bare hands to pull out bricks from long dried cement, they pull out sheets of tin that could easily cut their hands open and cause them a number of severe infections. They use their tools and utensils without any sort of protection to their eyes or heads. The possibilities of things falling on their heads or flying into their eyes are present, every minute of the day. They cut a finger and just lick their wound and keep going.  I was thinking, what would happen if one should trade places. By the end of the day, my legs were killing me from standing up, my body was sore, and all I could hardly wait for my  nice hot bath and warm dinner, but I found myself thinking that they, the ones who were actually doing the work, will probably not get this sort of ending for their day. Then,a certain feeling of shame crept on me, when I felt how content they were with everything, how positive their approach to life was, and how very little made them feel so good. They asked for some water, and I was still waiting for the water company to bring the bottle refills, so I asked them to wait while I go to the shop and get some, but they insisted they'd drink tap water, they laughed when I said it's undrinkable. I felt so naive. And when my husband came home bringing them dinner, they were ecstatic, such an ordinary event like dinner, was a reason to celebrate. To be honest, they had been pleasant all day, singing and laughing, and never complained about the amount of work they were given. They did not stop for a minute, well, one of them did to smoke, but it was continuous hard work for most of the day. I wondered all day, how they survive on little food and how they kept their spirits when their lives were so tough. There's a lesson to be learned there,and I am ashamed to say, I, for one, very often forget to count my blessings.

Waking up this morning to the sad news of the collapse of  a floor (or more, story not clear yet), of one of the Jordan Gate towers, and the death of a couple of the workers there, I was outraged. This is not the first time, nor will it be the last, unless new measures would be taken, and new regulations enforced to guarantee the safety of workers, and their rights in case of an accident. There will always be accidents in a work place, it's inevitable, but ensuring a worker-who suffers from an accident, sufficient rights to cater for him and/or his family in the case of a casualty, will minimize the numbers to a great extent. May God Bless the Souls of those who were killed, and May we, be made to regard people as the human beings they are, not as figures and statistics from the departments of immigration and work permits.

September 2006

Who Went to See the P.E Teacher?

If you're not Jordanian, You can totally skip this post :-) 

Yesterday, we had a parent-teacher meeting at Raya's school, to be introduced to the staff and informed about the system and curricula for the first year of school. Every teacher was waiting for her students' parents in one of the classes. All parents went to see the Arabic, English, Maths, and Science teachers. Some parents went to see the Religion, Arts, Music, Drama, and French teachers. But, who went to see Ms. Karadsheh, the P.E teacher?

 

The Sawalhas went,

 

The Hamarnehs went,

 

and the Masarwehs went.

 

Typical tribal attitude. LOL

August 2006

Once Upon A Burning Summer Day

 This post is not intended to offend anyone.

These are just a few scenes that caught my attention and aroused my curiosity.

-She took a big towel and dipped it in the pool. With water dripping all over the sunbathers, she went and spread it over her “madam’s” knees. The “madam ”, who chose what she thought is the coolest spot in the burning heat of the Ghor, and who was nevertheless sweating her head away, discreetly lifted her dishdash up to her knees to welcome the soothing waters. Meanwhile, in the pool, the madam’s husband was flirting with a foreigner in her bikini. The Mrs. Was proud. To her, it sounded like her husband was speaking perfect English, and that was all she saw in that scene. In another part of the pool,the children were playing. The eldest, a girl of around six,was splashing her brother of four with water. Her  arm, heavy with the weight of her  six gold bracelets jingling and glowing under the sun.

-He sprinkled his son’s head with a few drops of water. The two-year old was being carried around the pool by an African looking maid (Not a common scene in Jordan, but she did look Sudanese or Ethiopian). The maid, clad in a bathing suit but armored with knee-length gymnastics body suit underneath. The mother watching from the pool side.

I don’t have any social problem with that. It’s a perfectly innocent moment, but as my friend put it: Next time the husband’s looking at his son’s vacation pictures,the conversation will go towards the maid,not the mom: “Remember how frantic Omar looked when he first went into the water, remember when he swallowed the water and it came out of his nose, Almassa?”

-I have, yet, to see  a “modest” bathing suit that is actually modest. It hasn’t been done, yet! The more you try to hide, the more you end up revealing. The more you try to distract people’s attention, the more you invite curious eyes. Fashion designers, and material manufacturers, who have managed to create space suits, self-warming clothing, and fire retarding outfits, have not done this, successfully, yet! If it’s baggy, it’s hazardous, if it’s tight, it’s not modest. Period.

August 2006

The Good Wife's Guide

There's absolutely nothing wrong with a wife's attempts at making her home a haven of comfort and pleasure for her husband, but this guide,goes a little bit too far. It was supposedly published in Housekeeping Monthly in 1955. It assumes that women have no jobs outside their home, and obviously no identity inside it. It might be a fake article, but I still thought it was amusing. Since I'm trying to be a very good wife, I will publish it and head straight back to "my place" behind the sink.

Men of the world,weep,for the fiftees are long gone!


August 2006

IF

Do you know that feeling, when you're driving your car? It's dark, yet the street is lit, just well enough to make it comfortable. A cool breeze in your hair, the road is straight enough to make for an easy ride, with a few curves just to make it a bit more interesting. The radio is playing a cool yet sophisticated song, that holds a special place in your and your loved ones hearts. The traffic light is red, but you have enough distance just to lift your foot off the accelerator without having to hit your brakes. Gravity and friction take you to a soft stop. IF only life could be that mellow! 

August 2006

Tales of a Taxi Driver

 "Non Jordanians would have to excuse me for the many brackets, in which I wrote the exact words said by the taxi driver in his Bedouin accent. I have tried translating these words, but often, the humor is lost in translation:-) "

Me:    I would like to go to Shmesani please.
Him:   NO NO NO no no no there I can't go,too much traffic!
Me:   (being really desperate on a hot Thursday afternoon):I am going  somewhere close to Wadi Saqra ,that won't get you anywhere near the traffic.
Him:   Are you sure?
Me:    Yes,I will show you which roads to go.

30 seconds of silence:
Him:  (seeing two Philippinas walking in the street):(yegta3ken w yegta3 sharken,kharabten bait el balad)May you all be gone with your evil,you have destroyed the country. 

 

Me:      silence

Him:    You know ,just the other day this philipino girl gets into my car and starts explaining her troubles to me,you know me,being a bedouin ,I had to stand by her(tirafi 7inna el bado n7ibb el nakhwa).You know how us,bedouins are very chivalrous and like to help .

Me:     Uh hum(he was starting to have my attention then)

Him:    She asked me if I had a mobile and I gave her my number,"winnha" she calls me at 12 at night to complain to me that her employer is treating her badly , not paying her and abusing her so I decided to show him a piece of my mind.(golt hassa ba7ki ma3o w bawrjeeh).I called him up,he turned out to be an Egyptian doctor who seems to be a wise and reasonable man,and she turned out to be a big liar,and was about to drag me into trouble,so I called her and asked her never to call me again,ever.

Me:     To the left ,please.

Him:    Well anyways this doesn't mean that arab girls are better,either,excuse my saying so..

Me:     How come?(I sensed a juicy story coming up now)

Him:   The other day this girl stopped me in Sahab.(Labseh cubboy,w natharat kbar)wearing Jeans and big glasses.I was enjoying listening to Mhammad Abdo's el Amaken,and she asked me if I have a Quran tape..(winnha waghwashetny bihal 6alab),she messed my mind with her request.I did have a Quran tape,and I put it on but still something was telling me that her looks did not go along with her request.(golt el shakel ma ho mashi ma3 e66alab,golt khallini akhtibirha.)So I decided to quiz her.She sounded like she was north African ,and I asked her to recite a verse of the Quran.I told her:"us people of the Sham area,we recite  Quran in the same way,what about you Berbers?"see what I told her berber..I wanted her to to know that I know she's either Tunisian or Morroccan.And she didn't know any verses.I decided not to be mean and give her another chance so I asked her how we pray salat el fajr,(dawn prayer),and she did not know either.When we arrived to the Jordan University she insisted not to pay me more than 3 jds although the bill was more than than 4.50.We fought in the street and I wanted to take her to the police station when all of a sudden I lost her and couldn't find her among all those people.You know if I see her again,I would set up an awful accusation against her and throw her in jail.(wallahi lagool 3anha ajat w ma3aha ethnain klashinkofat widha tbee3ni iyahom..)I would claim she was trying to sell me 2 klashinkoffs .

Me:     Ah!why would you do such a thing over one and a half dinars?

Him:   (wallahi ma ho 3al masari,ana el taxi molik bidakhilli 900 dinar fil shaher,w 3indi arathi w bioot ,bass 3ashan amarmegh khshoomha bil arth)Honestly this is not about money,I own the taxi myself,my income is 900 dinars and I own lands and houses,but I wanted to show her that she can't fool me.

Me:    7aram 3alaik,that's such a big accusation.(you see he's an oldish harmless man,and I felt it's ok to be conducting long conversations with him.)

Him:   No ,some people need to be treated like that.Let me tell you a story(like he hasn't already told me a bunch)I used to work in a governmental establishment, and there was this girl (khshoomha bissama)full of herself.A colleague asked for her hand in marriage,and she refused,(fa dafa3 la zabbal az3ar 3ashan yo6lob eedha)he paid a garbage collector to ask for her hand in marriage in front of all the colleagues.(sorry but I don't know how to translate az3ar)w nazzal khshoomha bil arth.) This way he deflated her ego!

 

I gave out a small giggle

 

Him:  You like that story don't you?

At that point we'd already arrived where I was heading.My husband was waiting for me in the street.He saw me laughing and wondered: you seem to have enjoyed the ride?

Me: I did,indeed I did!

July 2006

40

" I wrote this on the 40th day of my dad's passing away. To us, Arabs, the 40th day after one's death, is often a day of remembrance, where people visit his family, and often prayers are held to commemorate. Very emotional indeed."

To a stranger:

In pain,
you and I become one.
Your tears run down my cheeks,
their salt burns the edge of my mouth.

You hear me sob,
your voice echoes mine.
I see your gaze,
like a reflection in my mirror.

Death separates,
Pain unites.

God bless them all.
Amen.

June 2006

Oh,Boy! A mom’s reflections on how raising a boy can be, well, different!

When I was pregnant with my second baby, I felt different. Though my doctor kept insisting I was having another baby girl right till the sixth month, I was pretty sure this wasn’t the case, and I was right. This feeling was not based on any scientific basis or even on old wives tales. It was pure instinct. Little did I know that this “difference ” was not going to stop with my baby’s birth. Raising a boy has proved to be a bigger challenge than I’ve ever expected. I can’t claim to be an expert, raising one son and one daughter doesn’t show a clear pattern of behavior, therefore I can’t generalize. It might be just a difference in character and doesn’t have to do with gender. It might be due to their order in the family. Being the eldest or youngest definitely matters to how parents interact with their child and to how siblings treat each other. But regardless of the reasons, my husband and I can’t help comparing between these two.

We sent both of them to nursery a little before their first birthdays. While Raya has managed to make friends with everyone since day one, and has had a best friend in every place she’s been, Zaid does not enjoy the company of kids his age unless it’s accompanied by constant adult participation. Someone older has to be there for him ALL THE TIME. He has also managed to make enemies even at the tender age of two. He shares a love- hate relationship with another Zaid from his class. They are obsessed with each other but tend to always be on each other’s tails. At the tender age of two he comes back with bruises and scratches, a blue eye once and a bumpy forehead quite often. This is not to claim that he is a victim, we have come to believe that he is the initiator of most of these encounters, if not all. He is an expert in teasing and in revenge. Ask for something and expect the opposite to be done, don’t obey his demands and expect your most expensive perfume to be held against the TV screen threatening to smash them both. Take your mobile away from him and see how he gets his rifle and starts making shooting sounds, all the while waving his rifle clumsily in your face that you could actually be hurt. Just for the record, we don’t buy him guns and rifles, he has one which is part of a Halloween army man costume, so really you can’t blame us for his hostile tendencies. While his sister could be reading, coloring or watching Tv all day, he has just recently started hearing or reading a story, and would not sit still if it lasts more than a few minutes. TV is no attraction unless it’s an animal show or something about tools and construction sites. He actually enjoys documentaries better than cartoons, and is usually more fascinated by a toy’s back rather than front, he flips everything over and starts figuring out how it’s assembled. Raya has always been sensible and obedient, she always had a sense of humor, a polite sense of humor if I might say, the other day she watched "Mind Your Language" DVDs with us, and loved them, while this guy, he finds UNDERWEAR humorous, pulling down his and other people's pants to make everyone laugh is a normal thing for him. Not to be unfair to him though, he is more focused than his sister and if I give him a mission like putting his animals in their box, he gets to it faster and actually finishes it, while she gets too involved in the toys that she starts playing again and would never get things done. But in spite of allthis rough exterior, he is mama's boy by all means. The way he cuddles when he's sleepy, the way he says mama bahebek and expects it to buy him approval for everything is so adorable. Recently, reasoning started to make an effect on him, after, say the tenth time of repeating one rule, but at least we're getting there. As I type this,

he was shocked that his sister eventually confronted his hostile attempts at taking over her Leap Pad with a big push that sent him to the ground, and that made him cry, not because of pain, but rather the humiliation of having her stand up to him, so he came and sat in my lap asking for his bottle. A big, rough, teddy bear, that's what my son is. One time I was complaining to his doctor that he is very spoilt and sometimes I don't know how to deal with him, doctor's answer was:"but Salam, you should know better looking at his father, us men we are all spoilt!" Well, there's a funny confession!

July 2006

Seven Years On

Alone at the new flat. Hardly feels like home. Everything's in boxes, dust everywhere. My husband was shipping the kids to my parents,(or was it his),so that we could arrange things and clean up a bit. It felt cold and empty, in spite of all the clutter surrounding me. I looked for a radio for some company .The boxes were labeled but with stacks upon stacks of sealed boxes ,finding one was an impossible task. The only entertainment available was the VCR, which we hooked first thing ,not to miss the mandatory daily dose of Barney and Friends. And the only video tape I had around, with songs that did not revolve around pop corn ,and mac-and-cheese ,was our wedding video. Everyone agreed back then that our DJ did a wonderful job. So there, the music rolled and I went to the kitchen to start the long long process of arranging cups and saucers, plates, pots, pans, cutlery, other silverware,(melon scoop and garlic crusher, vegetable garnishing peelers, that lovely syrian invention; zuchini hollower thingie, who uses this stuff anyways..I always buy my zuchinis hollowed, life's too short for that sort of work)pizza maker, fondue set, you might wonder? but that's great stuff for a small party. You never realize how much stuff you have till you move. I'm not moving again!!EVER!!!

BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT THIS POST'S ABOUT.

Going back and forth to the living room, I caught glimpses of the wedding. Sometimes catching my attention that I'd leave the water tap running while I sat for a few minutes to see what's been going on. Who are these people? SERIOUSLY. Something like 600 people were there. Do you really expect me to know all of them? But this tape's been causing me long sleepless hours for a few days now.

Do you know what could happen in less than seven years?

Do you know where you might be in less than seven years?

Do you know if you will BE in less than seven years?

HE, was a very good friend of ours. Can you see him wipe off my husbands forehead with his handkerchief, and hand him a sip of his scotch while we were dancing? We don't talk to him anymore. He wasn't that genuine after all.

SHE, looked so radiant in her black dress. Beautiful and merry. Dancing with her husband. Last year she died of cancer. At the age of thirty!

THEY danced the night away, looking like love birds. I never liked her much though. Two years ago, they divorced, after twenty years of marriage.

SHE, was single. Nice, kind-hearted girl. Since then, she got married. And divorced. Twice. To two different men. Now, she's happily married to the third, with two kids.

HE, was so vibrant, the soul of the party. Happy and proud. Now he's sick, but fighting like no other man would. He will be better very soon I know, if anyone can do it it's him. Peace, man!

HE, was the DJ.A few weddings later, he died in a car accident.

HE, grew up into an amazing young man. Got married and has a cute little baby.

THEY, were still dating then, we danced at their wedding 2 years ago. They were the last to visit us n the old flat, drinking and eating out of paper stuff, and the first non-family to pop in at the new one with dai3a shawerma for a lovely night after a long moving day.

SHE, graduated with honors, pursuing her Phd now.

THEY, had a baby after years of anguish waiting. The other's on the way.

AND US? Here we are: the few years scheduled to be spent in Qatar were reduced to ten months. We moved three houses since then, still pursuing our careers, have two beautiful kids, or at least I'd like to think so!

Our families are both doing great. We may wish them better health, more comfort, and more ease of mind, but the Lord has been good to all of us, and for that we're thankful.

Seven years on, ten years on, fifty years on....tomorrow, or even next ten minutes, your world might spin around in a matter of seconds.

Live, and let live. And most of all Enjoy.

May 1st 2006

To a Friend, and we're all someone's friend

Sit back,
And watch the world go by.
Gaze at the images,
Watch reflections,
Look behind faces,
Dissect events...
Stare, don't be shy!
Try out other people's shoes,
Flip roles.
Play the what-if game.
Listen!
Listen very well:
To the words that are said,
and those that aren't;
There's whispers,
murmurs,
giggles,
and sighs.
Look!
Look very well:
There's images,
pictures,
shadows,
and shades.
Know what's real,
and what's not.
Know what to keep,
and what to shed.
Be You,
Be You, and celebrate You; You deserve it!
There's more.
There's always some more,
things to explore,
places to see,
more love to enjoy,
people to adore,
more time to be You.
Forever and again:
Sit back Reflect and Rejoice!

April 2006

Don't EVER call me ba66a!!!

Shoooo haad?A client wanted to talk to me on the phone and her secretary talked to me first. She asked me keefek ya ba66a!!I was about to hang up on her but didn't in respect for her employer..shoo ba66a ?do I run a coffee shop in an Egyptian movie?I just HATE that!

My Shortest Post Ever

2006 GOOD RIDDANCE!!

December 2006

Today I Mourn

A great man, who embraced me as a daughter since the day we met.

Words cannot express our sorrow,

and the deep pain his death has engraved in our hearts.

Ammo Riad, the void you leave behind cannot be filled.

Your voice, your laugh, your happiness to see us and the kids walk through the door.

The anticipation of waiting for them every day.

The joy you brought to their lives.

The way you pampered them, and carried them around.

The frustration you felt when you could not take their little hands, and walk them around the house.

I can never forget the day when I put Raya in your lap for the first time, when she was three days old.

You used to be so frightened of carrying babies, but the moment you held her in your arms you never let go of her.

Neither the day of Zaido’s christening, when he wouldn’t let anyone carry him but you. Even the priest thought that jiddo saved the day.

My kids’ loss has beendoubled this year, with the loss of both grandparents.

But the memories you have both given them and us are priceless.

Ammo, your legend lives on, in the great family you have raised.

No day passes by without me thinking of the great job you and auntie have done raising such a loving, caring family.

I am blessed to be part of your family, to have known you, to have loved you and to have been loved by you.

May God bless your soul.

May you and my dad both rest in peace.

Our biggest blessing is having had such great men to father us.

We love you both so much.

December 2006

My Husband's Martial Law

"There shall be no Coriander bought in this household again, EVER"

Coriander, aka cilantro, is not a common ingredient in my kitchen. I do use it as a flavoring in the rare times when I cook green fava beans with meat in a nice garlicky yoghurt sauce (fool bi laban). I also use it for salsa and some mexican dishes, but it is definitely not an essential part of my culinary experience. However, being completely FORBIDDEN from buying it makes me uncomfortable. I'm freaking out that my already shrinking menu will lose yet another item (because I find fool bi laban tasteless without it) and the dreadful question of what will I cook for tomorrow will become an even tougher decision.

 I love cooking but I hate having to make up my mind on the meal that will please everyone.

If I leave it to Zaid, we'd be eating mlookhieh every single day. If one kid at the nursery is having mlookhieh for lunch, I can be sure that Zaid would be sharing his lunch, and that my cooking  will come back in an unopened tupperware.

If I leave it to Raya, I'd be rolling vine leaves every day, a luxury my time can't afford, but luckily my mom covers up for  my deficiencies and cooks both meals for them.

My husband is pretty flexible with food, just as long as it's not yesterday's leftovers, or not flavored with coriander.

"Flavoring, Salam, you said you needed it for flavoring, but this thing tastes of nothing but coriander!"

Then he ate yesterday's leftover fettucini.

To be fair,the yoghurt did turn a little green after I chopped in all that coriander, so that's an official apology for yesterday's lunch Honey.

December 2006

إلى بابا

."استيقظ بابا فجر الأحد 21-5-2006 يشكو من ألم مفاجىء في صدره" 
."شاءت الأقدار أن أكون هناك وأن أحظى بنظرة أخيرة،بعناق أخير و بقبلة أخيرة

هناك على الشرفة، وقفت مرارا لتنتظرني. تسأل أطفالي أين غبتم عني  و قد كانوا هنا البارحة

هناك على الشرفة

مشيت مرارا،يداك معقودتان خلف ظهرك

تفكر في كل أحد و كل شيء

هناك جلست و جمعتنا حولك

كان يكفي أن يجلس أحدنا معك صامتا ليحس بك و بمايجري في قلبك و عقلك

هناك كثيرا ما اختبرتنا إن كنا نذكر من قال هذا الشعر أو ذاك،أو معنى هذي الكلمة أو تلك

كنت إن قلت شعرا حفظناه أو غنيت لحنا احببناه و أعدناه

اليوم

كنتُ هناك

نظرتُ الى الشرفة

بحثتُ
 عنك،و لم تكن بانتظاري

هناك

وقفت"

و قلت للعينين

قفا نبك

على أطلال من راحوا و فاتوها

تنادي من بناها الدار

"و تنعى من ناها الدار

أيكون هذا حقا؟أتكون قد رحلت عنا يا بابا؟

تطالعني صورتك عند مدخل البيت حيث كانت دائما،

تنظر الي بعينيك الخضراوين الجميلتين

تشعان حبا و حنانا

وجهك يقول لي الكثير الكثير دون أن تنطق بحرف واحد كما كان الحال دائما

كان يكفي أن تنظر الي مرة لأعرف إن كنت مخطئة أو محقة

تلك العينان التي أحببناهما جميعا كانت تختصر كلام العالم في نظرة

كانت تشعراني بالإطمئنان و الأمل

لا تخف من شيء أبدا و لا تندم على شيء:كنت تقول لأخي.

كنت دوما محقا يا بابا،دوما

كنت إنسانا،بل رمزا للإنسانية

و لا أصدق أنني أستخدم كان دونا عن أخواتها

لا أصدق أننا خسرناك بل أن خسرك العالم كله

كنت بحرا من العطاء و الخير،كرست وقتك لتجعل من العالم مكانا أفضل

كانت حياتك موزعة بين عائلتك الصغيرة،نحن،و عائلتك الكبيرة في البشرية

.لم يعرفك شخص إلا و لمست قلبه بعطفك و محبتك.حتى أولئك الذين أخطأوا اليك

لا أشك في معرفتهم مقدار تسامحك و غفرانك،فقد كنت دوما دمثا لطيفا حتى في وقت الشدة

كيف أنسى عندما قمت و صديقاتي في الصف السادس بصنع الحلوى و بيعها لشراء ملابس للمحتاجين قبل فصل الشتاء،كيف أنسى أنك قبلتني و قلت لي أن هذا اليوم مصدر فخر لك لأنني و صديقاتي قد وضعنا قدمنا على أول طريق الخير.كيف أردتنا دائما أن نشعر دائما بمعاناة من لا معيل لهم.كيف أردتنا أن نذكر الجياع عندما نأكل، و نذكر الذين في العراء
عندما نتدفأ

تتسارع الذكريات في عقلي

لا أستطيع إلا أن أبتسم عندما أتذكر وجهك قبل بضعة أشهر ،عندما مررت لوحدي لأراكما أنت و أمي قبل ذهابي إلى العمل،قلت لي"وين الزغار؟"و عندما أجبتك:"في المدرسة"قلت لي مبتسما:"و ليش جاية؟"و كأن حضوري يفرحك لوجودهم معي فقط، فقلت لك :"لأودي الولاء و الطاعة

ما زلت أذكر تلك البسمة التي ارتسمت على شفتيك،و نظرة الفخر التي ملأت عينيك،فأنا و أخي

و امي و أخواتي و عماتي أيضا ،نعرف تماما كم يفرحك أن تشعر بعمق محبتنا ،و بعمق ارتباطنا بك و بأمي.حتى و إن كنا نعيش مع أزواجنا،و مع أسرنا الجديدة،فأنت تعلم كم لك و لأمي من التقديرو التأثير علينا،فهذا نابع من إيماننا بحكمتكما و محبتكما لنا جميعا

بابا

سامحنا إن كنا يوما أغضبناك

سامحنا إن كنا نسيتا يوما أن نقول لك نحبك

سامحنا إن كنا يوما قد انشغلنا عنك

ساعدنا يا بابا

قد خطواتنا و تابعها

إجعلنا دوما نشعر بروحك بيننا،فنحن دوما بحاجة اليك

و الى لقاء

May 2006

Abu Mhammad

Abu Mhammad is the nice old man who works in the parking lot next to my office.

He is such a sweet person and his genuine greetings always make my day.
"Good morning bash mohandiseh,ya3teeki el 3afieh!" always with a sincere cheerful tone.
I have been working in the same place for around 11 years now, I left for around a year and half, during which we lived abroad and during which I had my daughter. A couple of years ago, after having my son and returning from my maternity leave, he congratulated me on having a baby boy, he kept repeating how glad he was that it's a boy, and it was all very sweet of him. Every few days he'd ask me again, how is "the boy" doing, and never ask about "the girl". I used to think it's all very natural since this is the latest, most recent event that happened to me and he's checking on him alone for that reason only.

After two years of the same routine, where he only asked about Zaid and never Raya, I started wondering if he knew  I had another child. I was puzzled and wanted to know if this was the case, or is it because he is an old man, who comes from somewhere where your mother's name is the best-kept secret in your life, where your wife is never referred to by her name but is called (el 3aileh-the family) or (el jama3a-the group) and where daughters are always called by the same term, even on their wedding invitations, the name is always (kareematoho-his daughter) written below the fathers name! 

My curiosity took the better of me and I had to ask him:

"Abu M7ammad, do you know I have an older daughter?"

"Yes, of course I do, Allah yekhaleelek iyaha"

"But you never ask me about her, you always check on my son, I thought you did not know!"

"Oh, I know, how is she? Inshallah tamam?"

"Yes, thank you for asking"

He must have thought: "What's wrong with this woman? Who asks about girls? Doesn't she realize this is 3aib or something?!"

This morning, when he asked me: "Keef el zghar? How are the little ones?" I couldn't help but smile!

December 2006

عمان

هناك في قعر الصمت،

ثمة من يرقد ملتحفا بالنار...

يخبىء في ثناياه حقدا ،

دنس ليل عمان...

حقدا أمات و أبكى و أدمى قلب عمان.

و عمان الطفلة التي غفت فوق تلالها السبعة ،أفاقت ،

الخوف يخط في وجنتيها سنينا طوال.

من سرق فرح عمان؟من سلبها طهرها؟

من زرع الدمع في عيون أبنائها

و علمهم الخوف و القلق؟

مر عام و لم ننسى.

تمر الأعوام و لن ننسى.

فعمان في القلب و عين الله ترعاها

November 2006

 

Can't Buy Me Love!

Random conversations with our daughter, who's six years old. daughter,who's six years old.

Raya: Mom,you know those Yugi Cards?
Me: Yeah?
Raya: I would like to buy some.

Me: How come?I  thought you don't like boyish toys?
Raya: The boys in our class don't let us play with them,and I sometimes I am fed up with 
the girls,so I want to buy cards and trade them  with the boys!

Who can blame her?There's six girls in her class and 20 boys!


Raya: Dad,if I get married to a king,would that make me a queen?
Dad: Yes!
Raya: And if I marry a prince would that make me a princess?
Dad: Yes!
Rayar: Even though you and mom are just ORDINARY people?
Dad: Yes!
Raya: So,where do I find one?

Tips?anyone?The girl seems to be in a rush!

November 2006