Spring Fever

A kiss...

A crush...

Tough love...

A smile.

"Train to Beware"...Mother Crossing.

Sometimes I feel like I would make a better circus performer then a mother.  The other day I had both boys, a backpack, a take away bag which consisted of a leftover 1/2 of piece of chocolate cake that I wouldn't let Luke finish and a water bottle with 1/4 cup of banana milk that Theo was interested in, the folded up umbrella stroller and a small bag with 2 new bars of soap for my experiment with dealing with the  kids' sensitive skin.  We were standing on the side of a midan or round-a-bout (as we used to call them when we lived in MA) waiting for a taxi.

Most taxi drivers are happy to pick up foreigners.  Foreigners usually tip generously with metered taxis and over pay with non metered ones.  But taxis don't like me, at least not with the kids in tow.  Our taxi rides consist of Luke kicking the back of the driver's seat and Theo, either hanging like a monkey from the handles that Americans use to hang up their dry cleaning (for the life of me I can not think of the English name for those things), trying to open the door handle, or screaming at the top of his lungs because I have the death grip hold on him.  In Egypt a baby crying is a big crime and I know the drivers must think that I am torturing him.  I can't begin to tell you how bad I wish I could car-seat that boy in.  However, since the taxis here are lucky to have working seat belts in them at all, it's a lost cause.  Not that I could add a car-seat to my load anyway.  If Jubilee is in the car she is usually whining about being car sick or telling on Luke for sitting too close to her.  I think word has gotten around the taxi community about us and as you can understand, we weren't having much luck catching a taxi.  Every taxi driver was taking one look, laughing inside, shaking their heads no and driving by.  We waited and waited.

All of the sudden a car pulls up and stops.  The man rolled down his window.  Is he going to offer me a ride or tell me of a better place to catch a taxi?  No, he calls out to me in Arabic "hey, your holding your baby the wrong way.  You need to hold him tighter, and in front of you, not on the side."  I thought to myself...is he for real, did this man just tell this mother how to hold her baby?

I know people are always trying to be helpful, but at that moment of craziness it didn't matter what language he was speaking, I just couldn't understand why he would stop to tell me that.  I finely just decided that maybe he either didn't have children or any idea about how to help a mother in need or dropped one at some point because he wasn't holding them tight enough.  I gave my "oh, thank you for the bad advice" smile and nodded and he drove on, but I was puzzled on how to feel about this encounter.  Surely he wasn't questioning my mothering abilities.  Was he just trying to talk to the "foreign" woman?  Should I feel angry or grateful for his concern?

I didn't have to think about it much longer because a taxi driver took pity on me and stopped.  I think he thought his taxi was safe because his seats were still all covered with plastic.  I laughed inside and we all piled in the car and rode away.  I sat in the back wondering what is the best way to handle unwanted advice?

Recipe for Spaghetti Bones

Here is a recipe that Luke wanted to share with the world.  I am told it is what his Teddy Bear, Christopher "Teddy" Bear eats for dinner...let me know how it turns out:)...

1/2 cup hot water

1/2 cup tea (any kind will do)

1 cup bones

3 tablespoons peanut butter

1 package of spaghetti noodles

3 jars of noodle sauce

1 cup of bananas

3 slices of toast

Mix all ingredient and let cool.  Remove bones and suck the peanut butter off before serving.

Mother seeking Fairy...

Wanted...A magical fairy, for 4 days, to come and clean my house, throw a party for my husband and bake a birthday cake (sugar free, yet yummy), insure that the tooth fairy comes, fix the washer and do 7 loads of laundry, fill my kitchen with food, install a toilet, Lo-Jack my baby's pacifier, apply cream to his heat and dust rash, change 7 (rough estimate) dirty diapers a day, bathe 30 fingers and 30 toes and everything in between, wipe tears and noses and make sure the house doesn't burn down...oh, yeah, and clean the baby poop off of my last pair of clean pants!  Will pay with smudgy finger prints and peanut butter kisses.   Please send your resume ASAP!

Like Sand in our Bathtub, so are the Days of our Lives.

 Have ever had to use the potty so bad but couldn't find your keys in time? Remember that embarrassing incident when your neighbor told you that funny story and you laughed so hard you nearly peed your pants? Or are you trying to potty train a toddler and want to make sure a potty is around whenever you need it?  Well, We have the solution for you... Introducing the Stairway Stool!  What do you think...a million dollar idea?  This was the scene when I returned to my house today.  Which actually made me happy because it told me that...

...our new bathtub finally arrived. 

and this means that we don't have to wash the kid with the laundry anymore!

That's not funny!  I went to far.  No one should ever put your child into the washing machine.  All kids should be tattooed "Hand Wash Only!"

On a serious note, for those who have been concerned about our hygiene, yes we do have another "tubby to scrubby". The New tub, unfortunately to our to our landlady's dismay, was installed a tad bit crooked.  That was a nice conversation to witness in Arabic.    

A Rabbit Trail

For your entertainment, here is my version of "Lost". Enjoy

A note about Jubilee...

My daughter's drawings never ceases to amaze me. They are full of expression and feeling.  I always know what is going on inside of her by just looking around her room at the various pictures she is working on. 

Thoughts about her future...

Thoughts about herself...

Thoughts about...

I wasn't quite sure what this one was all about.  

I imagined seeing it in one of the Museums of Modern Art I visited while taking art classes. 

I asked her about it and she said..."mom, I just messed up on the neck."

Happy Shemm en-Nessem. It took a bit of work, and creativity, but we have modestly dressed the Barbies

Hi there!...We are all dressed up and are going over to Fulla's house on Monday to celebrate Shemm en-Nessem.   What a wonderful day!  First, early in the morning  we will break open an onion, and smell it.   You see, Shemm en-Nessem means to smell the air.  Everybody who's anybody will be dining in the country or on the river. We, ourselves, are planning to go on a picnic and eat fermented mullet.  After that, we may walk a bit along the Nile River.  Hopefully, the Cairo air will be clean tomorrow.  At times it can be "violent and hot, accompanied by clouds of dust".  So, make sure on Monday to stop and smell the flowers...or an onion.  Bye-bye now, bye-bye, bye-bye now!

Now...if only I can get the baby dressed!