الحمد لله

IBHOG came up with the best idea that inspired my long lost Ramadan spirit. For the rules, go to IBHOG’s…

I am grateful for…

- My boys. I remember being pregnant and depressed, I remember my one wish was healthy and smart kids (I have very low tolerance of stupidity), and every time I look at them, I feel grateful because they are much better than I could have ever wished! Beem is loving and tender, and Mocha is witty and hilarious… and they both take a lot more after me than their dad. BLESSED is what I feel when I think of my boys, and sometimes also BURDENED because I don’t know how to cherish such bliss.

- My friends. I have quite the variety, how different their interests and backgrounds are, and yet they have at least one thing in common, me. They make me feel loved and accepted, and the smallest gesture they do touches me too deep, be it a phone call when I am down to cheer me up or a ride when I am too depressed to tell the directions for myself. More importantly, they make it feel like I have well deserved it; they make me feel like I am as a good friend as they are. APPRECIATED and LOVED is what I feel when I think of my friends.

- My Father. He is my wall, knowing that he is there for me gives me a sense of protection I know no one else can give. SAFE is what I feel whenever I think of my father.

- My Job. At first, I thought it was a career dead-end -which it probably is to anyone else-, but now I appreciate the low level of tension, especially with my drama. As overqualified as I think I am for my job (business grad, marketing concentration, yet working in administration), I still have a decent status there, a good pay and benefits, not to mention that I have the nicest boss in the world who makes up for the colleagues who may push the wrong buttons sometimes. LUCKY is what I feel when I think of my job.

- Me. No, I am not being conceited, but I have a lot of good things going for me and I know it; I am relatively healthy, I’ve been told I am smart and good looking, I come from a respectable family, I received good education, and I have decent financial means that spare me worrying about the future. PRIVILEGED and CONTENT is what I feel when I think of all those things God has granted me.

- The wishes I am granted. Every time I kneeled and prayed for something, God has granted it to me; it made me seal every prayer with asking God not to grant me what’s not good for me because I know I don’t know what’s best for me most of the time. THANKFUL, OVERWHELMED, AWED, and CHALLENGED is what I feel every time a prayer is answered.

Those might have seemed like six blessings, but there's a lot more to each, especially the last two; they're ever growing, not to mention too many to count!

الحمد لله

I invite my fellow bloggers on the blog-roll to take the time and do that tag, and those who like to comment as anons as well.

About today…

I woke up to a call from the x telling me that he was getting ready to come and pick up the boys. Today they go with their nanny to his place and spend the entire day with his family.

I’ve been preparing Beem for that all through the week so that he wouldn’t panic when he realizes that I won’t be joining them like every weekend when we go out, so when he heard me saying the x’s name on the phone, he jumped off bed and woke up mocha saying “es7a ya mocha, pappy gyyy yakhodna, yalla”

For the first time in God knows how long, they showered without the usual fuss about shampoo getting in their eyes!

Beem got dressed peacefully without crying about his favorite t-shirt or the pair of shoes I never let him wear because it’s summer! For the love of God, they let me comb their hair and clip their nails without fighting back!!!!

They left with him a while ago…

I almost cried on my way upstairs.

Now, I had a big plan for myself to keep my busy all day… I planned to clean up the room, have a nice long bath, manicure and pedicure, dress up for the Iftar with my sis and her coworkers, and then go to the Pool with Rasha for a nice night swim.

Instead, I am lying in bed with my laptop, the lighting in my room is busted and so is the window, so I am forced to sit in a dimly lit room, which is not so encouraging to clean up! It feels to hot to take a bath; I want to bask in the a/c instead (at least that is working), I am even too lazy to change back into my pjs!

This will be a long day unless something extraordinary happens!

Such a shame…

I hear those words a lot, “such a shame”…

When people look at me and realize I’m a divorcee, they shake their heads and very bluntly imply it...

“You’re young, too young to be a mother and a divorcee already…”

And it’s worse when they see my babies; you see, as annoying as my kids can be, they’ve been blessed with some sort of charm that I can’t really understand… it could be Beem’s radiant smile or Mocha’s big brown eyes that steal people’s hearts away!

And when they know they belong to a single mother and an absent father, they shake their heads even harder and say it with such disbelief and disappointment…

“Such beautiful kids, such a shame, la 7awla wala quawata ella b’Ellah”

Those words are not necessarily said; they don’t need to be, they are too loud in their eyes that it deafens me and disturbs my peace!

And the thoughts explode in my head…

It hurts to see my kids loving someone so unworthy, it hurts to see them getting so attached to someone who’s only there for them to get to me and make me pay for breaking free and doing it with my head up high without any sense of regret or defeat that would satisfy his sick ego.

It hurts me that I am not able to fight back and play as dirty to stop him, that I can’t get back at him because I worry about my kids’ wellbeing!

Now that’s a shame…

To have that much anger, hate and resentment for someone and not be able to use it to hurt him and cause him as much irreversible damage as he caused…

It’s such a shame to hold on to my ethics and upbringing, stick to right and refrain from wrong when every cell of my body is screaming “PAYBACK”

It’s such a shame to feel that much rage and yet still listen to that frail voice telling me that everything evens up at the end and that he will pay one day, and that he’ll pay dearly!

Right now, that’s not really enough…. I don’t want him to pay one day, I want him to pay NOW! I don’t want him to wonder what he could have possibly done to deserve the pain and agony I wish him; I want him to know it’s because of what he’s done to me and to those boys and spend the rest of his days trying to think of ways to fix it hoping his pain would stop…

It may sound like I want revenge, but all I really want is justice, poetic justice, the kind they spoke of in fairytales and fables, the kind I should be old enough to know does not exist…

Such a shame!

After midnight blabbers…

It’s been a while, and I keep having random thoughts in my head that drive me insane, but not long enough for me to write them down. However, tonight I just have an unbearable urge to let them out, or at least some...


This is one of the loud thoughts I have in my head…

Wouldn’t this world be a much better place if each one of us believed that everyone is someone else’s father/mother, son/daughter, brother/sister and/or, husband/wife… as in that each and everyone one of us has a bunch of people in his/her life who think great deal of him/her!!

Yeah, I am starting to understand why exactly most of my friends think I need to be admitted into some facility that “protects” people like me! But really, just take a moment to imagine it; better yet, take a minute to think of someone you dislike as someone else’s special person! (I don’t necessarily mean special special)



This word keeps echoing in my head for no good reason!

Yearning, as in: Longing, aching, nostalgic… I have no idea for what!!



Current Soundtrack…

Charles Aznavour Duos!! I still can’t get over the intensity of his voice in different languages! The way he says each word makes my heart skip beats!!!!

Nina Simone’s The Keeper of the Flame made me tear up when it played randomly in the car; I wasn’t even paying attention to the lyrics, but the music definitely hit a nerve I am unaware of!

I am not sure if the soundtrack stirred the nostalgia and the yearning or if I am vulnerable to the music because of those feeling; either way, they get along fine!!



The daily annoyances…

The infamous X… the annoying colleague at work who wouldn’t let me ignore him… and the governmental officials that make me want to forget about them being someone else’s special and kill them or wish them horrible deaths, especially that freakin’ officer with the dirty looks, I wish that one turns blind!!

I should have also mentioned the evil side of me since I am wishing all the above all the shit they made me go through during the past few days!



My little blessings

My cute little monsters of kids; I can’t get over how sweet and kind Beem is, and how hilarious and cute my Mocha is, pretty much makes up for how nagging Beem can be and how crazy and aggressive Mocha is!!

The little extra bonus at work and the medical insurance refund (yeah I kinda need the money)

My dad’s little surprise that I hope would come to term without any disappointment (God, I know I am asking for way too much!!)

The few laughs I had with Rasha yesterday and today, aside from the nakad movie that had the poor thing sobbing!



The things I KNOW I should do...

Show God my gratitude, as in do my prayers on time we balash estehbal… Clean up the damn room… save money… spend more time with the boys and enjoy them… watch out… finalize all pendings at work on daily basis or whatever closest ( I hate loose ends at work and I’ve been leaving a lot behind!)… catch up with a lot of my friends…

There must be a lot more but I am too tired now; I think I’ll call it a night…



Hoping and praying for a good weekend pour moi and for all of you out there… be well.

Some unresolved anger

It’s been a while since I talked about the x or any of his detailed stories! It’s about time.

We’ve been meeting weekly on regular basis, we take the kids out on Fridays, have a family lunch and then he drives us home. To any outsider, we’re a perfect family made of two young parents and two adorable boys. However, if you look close enough, neither of us wears our wedding bands and we do not touch or have any private moments at all; and if you look really closer, you’ll see a dirty look I glare at him whenever he tries to move closer to me or flirts.

Nonetheless, I try to help him bond with the boys; when he gets them stuff I tell Beem “ben2ool le pappy eh?” he’d say “merci papa” and I’d tell him “meen bey7eb pappy”, he laughs and says “anaaaa”, and with Mocha I just tell to give daddy a kiss and he does. I love seeing how happy they are around him and how even happier they get when they get him to buy more toys than I would normally get them; I admire their intelligence and how they pick on how he wants to impress and use it to their advantage.

Between him and I, I tell him he should tone down the whole fun figure and act more like a parent when they’re being stubborn. Of course he doesn’t always listen because he’s tempted by the notion that they’d love him more if he always spoils them rotten, but they failed him the couple of times I disappeared to go to the ladies room or something; both times I found them waiting right outside all cried out cause mommy was gone. I just love my boys they make me feel like I’ve been doing an ok job all this time.

Moreover, I’ve had a chat with Beem’s teacher at the nursery and she bluntly asked me if things were fixed between his father and me. I smiled at her and told her that the decision to end the marriage is final but the procedures are taking some time. I confirmed that none of it shall affect the boys. She said she was happy Beem is adjusting because recently he’s been saying papa this and papa that while before that he used to stop talking whenever any of the other kids mentioned their daddies. So my decision to do the whole weekly outings was a good one.

One thing though, the x has been asking nonstop if he could take the boys to Zamalek where we used to live so that they’d see his grandma and his aunts. Normally, I would have been the softie I usually am and agreed except for a very important detail; last time I went there to pick my stuff two Ramadans ago, I was brutally kicked out and had my purse thrown behind me. That day I swore my kids would never get inside the place from where I was once kicked out. I think my pride is still a bit bruised because I can still feel a bit angry when I relive that day in my head and remember my feelings back then.

Today, I told him over the phone that we will not be seeing him this Friday because we’ll be in Alexandria for the weekend and out of the kindness of my heart, I offered that we’d meet on Monday instead since it will be an official holiday. This is how it went:

Him: ok, mafeesh moshkela
Me: tab ok, ana bas olt 2a2ollak abl mansa, bye
Him: tab estanny, 3ayez 2a2ollek 7aga
Me: mmm??
Him: eh ra2yek nekharaghom fe 7etta maftoo7a, zay el nady masalan?
Me: yeah sure, no problem as long as the weather is fine we mafeesh torab…
Him: tab eh ra2yek nekhaly 3amety teshofhom
Me: X, I will say this one more time, welady mesh hayroo7o beet ana edtaradt menno, and I really don’t think you should keep asking
Him: ana ma2oltesh yeego el Zamalek, net2abel fel nady, 3amaty 3ayzeen yeshofoohom
Me: fffffffffff
Him: betonfokhy leh? 3amaty makanoosh mawgoodeen 7ata yoomeeha…
Me: (annoyed that he’s getting around with a technicality and trying to avoid that my father hates for those two aunts to see the boys because they lied on the investigation reports) well, whatever, if anything I do not like happens, I’ll take the kids and walk out….
Him: ok, law 7ad day2ek be noss kelma emshy
Me: and your cousins will not be there, none of them
Him: ana 2olt 3amaty bas…
Me: if I spot any of your cousins I will not be nice or decent, I will probably be very rude
Him: I said none of them will be there…
Me: (mumbling)

I am very disturbed with that settlement, especially that I have just confessed to a friend of mine –as well as myself- that as much as it seems that I have come to good terms with everything that’s been as far as my wreck of a marriage is concerned, I am definitely not ok on a few aspects, like his family. I know he’s more flawed than they are, but I am also aware that he is the way he is because they taught him one way or the other that he can get away with anything; moreover, I cannot deny my kids a father, but I can keep their distance from his family, no?

There was a time back in my marriage when I lived with his grandma and aunt, and they always did things with my Beem that got under my skin, like feed him too much chocolate, yell at me when I try to discipline him or just interfere with what I choose for him to wear as if they were the parents! I used to take all that for the sake of whatever harmony I thought was there. Not anymore, the slightest criticism and I am likely to say something nasty and inconsiderate; not because I can’t help myself, but rather because I want to be nasty.

I am not proud of myself for feeling that way, but I am sure as hell convinced that I have very good reasons to. Yes, I have displaced my anger and rage at him towards them and I am not ready to deal with them on fake friendly basis yet, if that makes any sense.

It's such a complicated society!

I don’t know if it’s our human nature or our society, but I find our tendency to complicate all matters very disturbing. I know it might sound a bit ironic and contradicting coming from someone like me who over thinks everything, especially with how long this post is expected to drag!

So here is where this is coming from…

I went out with my x last weekend, along with the kids; like a hallmark happy family and shit.

So this is how it was like…

Surroundings:

Thursday Evening – After I got off work, I picked the kids up from their nursery and met him at Carrefour Maadi, where the kids knocked themselves out in the kids playing area after getting more than their fair share of toys!

Friday – He picked us up from my parents’ after prayers and we spent the day at the club where the boys behaved like they’ve never seen sand in their entire lives!

The impact on the kids:

My Beem was glowing with happiness being around his daddy. He was so proud of the little toys he got and kept saying “babaya gabhomly”, he kept going on and on about how he loves his “baba M”. He behaved his best to impress his daddy and he told him “ana ba7ebak ya baba M” all of a sudden as they were sitting next to one another (of course the x had a bag full of toys next to him, but my Beem is unconditionally sweet when he feels like it nonetheless).

The next day at the club, Beem was happy showing off his scooter-riding skills. Surprisingly, my very cautious and rather easily scared Beem jumped from what would normally be a scary height to impress his daddy after his daddy taught him how to climb those monkey bars. I almost screamed myself; luckily the sand made his fall less painful than it would have been otherwise, and my Beem landed on his feet rather than his knees. *me so proud*

Mocha was rather calm and peaceful. It was his first time to interact with his dad. We’ve been separated less than a month after he was born and he refers to my father as “baba”. So I kept referring to my x as “baba” so that Mocha would pick up on it. He didn’t talk to him at all, but whenever I asked him to give something to baba, he obeyed smilingly.

The impact on me:

Strangely enough, I didn’t burn with jealousy when my son said he loved his daddy; in fact, I was proud that all the negative feelings I have for his dad did not get through, I was glad he didn’t pick on it. Alhamdulilah.

I cannot deny I felt some peace watching my sons having fun and running around happily. I sensed Beem’s sense of security every time he called for his dad, and I secretly kept hoping his father would live up to the father’s role in my sons’ life and that he would bond and make up for them for the past two years.

Generally, it was not straining for me. I was neutral; I was not angry or resentful, neither was I all sunshine and rainbow. I remained silent most of the ride and I barely had much to say unless it was about the kids; otherwise, whenever he tried to start small talk or befriend me, I pretended not to hear him and justified it by being tired and sleepy. My way of politely telling him that I didn’t want to talk.

I think he noticed how I quietly looked away whenever he tried to make eye contact. I think he also noticed I looked the other way whenever any of the past events were mentioned one way or the other; either by passing by a place that holds too many bad memories, or by him mistakenly mentioning something that has the wrong connotation. I still felt sick having to remember any of it.

I didn’t like how he kept asking if I was happy. I didn’t like how he tried to overdo the whole gentleman act either. Nonetheless, I did appreciate how we didn't have any physical contact and how he didn’t try to find excuses to make any. At least until he waited outside the door then held on to my hand for a while after the handshake was over. I never liked it when guys did that; it’s cheesy. I looked him in the eye as I pulled my hand a bit aggressively. I hope he got the message.

NOW

My mom is getting her hopes up that’s we’d be back. My sisters seem to have their own suspicions of his intentions and wondering how his next screw up would be like, I kinda have my own concerns as well. My father is avoiding the whole topic.

What’s upsetting me is that whenever I tell any of my friends what happened, I sound like I am defending the reason behind it and I feel like I have to clarify that NO I do not want back.

It’s really that simple; I agreed to let him meet with the boys because he has the right, getting a ruling from the court will only take time and it’s better for my kids' benefit that I do it amicably as long as I am not compromising any of my rights or security. It seemed to be a good idea given its effect on my boys.

Now, will I be considering a way back? HELL NO! He crushed me and my ability to trust in the whole notion of love. I am not devastated or heartbroken like I once thought I’d be, but my faith in love and marriage has forever been compromised.

As for him, I can’t look at him; I don’t even like looking at him. I don’t find anything he says interesting; in fact, most of the things he said the other day were extremely shallow and I would have normally grilled him with my ruthless sarcasm if I knew he could take it. So if I can’t look at him and I don’t find him interesting, not to mention the whole trust and respect issues I have clearly and repeatedly expressed on that blog, it is OVER.

According to the Egyptian norms, I am a crazy crazy woman.

I have been repeatedly told that I am making a big fuss out of something all men do and that any good wife belongs to her husband’s home. “Go home” they say, “you’ve already shown him your strength and made it clear that he cannot mistreat you and get away with it”. In addition to that, the man is a catch according to the lame Egyptian standards; he’s tall enough for me to never be his height no matter how high my heels are, he’s athletic, he has a career, drives a pricy car, and “shareeny”!!!!! Ya far7ety!!!!!!

Like all has been forgotten!!

Well I remember it all…

I remember how I first stumbled on each of his affairs…

I remember how my heart almost stopped the first time, I remember how hard I cried and I remember how abusive the confrontation was…

I remember that in the midst of all that I agreed to move out of the one home I ever belonged, so that his life would be easier and mine harder just to “be there for him” and “prove my love”…

I remember how my health kept deteriorating and how I kept going through one surgical procedure after the other, not to mention that my first c-section was due to severely high blood pressure which he caused in so many ways!

I remember how I made a huge fool out of myself forcing myself to believe his lies so that I can continue living with him only to stumble on more disturbing proofs of his lies…

I remember how my life turned to hell because I couldn’t trust him, and how humiliating it felt going through his messages and analyzing his words to find lies!

I remember how he finally stopped hiding his tracks and decided to do it all in the open and hide it by making me doubt my own sanity!

I remember wanting to die…

I remember the hospital fights, the worst postpartums, and the stitches that wouldn’t hold because of my constant sobbing!

I remember I almost caved in to all the pressures, and almost went back to him, more than once…

I remember each and every time I collapsed because I couldn’t…

I remember how angry he got because he couldn’t believe I rejected him after he “came clean”…

I remember the lies he said about me, lie after lie…

I remember how he said he no longer had kids, that they were dead to him, my kids…

I remember the ugliness that followed with his family showing their true color…

I remember my desperate cries and prayers and I remember very clearly the physical pain I went through in the process…

I remember how I managed to stand on my own two feet again, mostly with my father’s direct and indirect help and sometimes with my mom's and sisters', not to mention my friends…

I remember a lot of things that can make me angry all over again!! What people do not get is that the reason why I no longer get that angry is NOT because I am willing to go back; it’s because I realized I am too strong for him to break me and that I have nothing to fear of him.

I see how I bounced back, and I am proud of myself for it. I realize my losses and the damages he caused and I am ok with them. I have moved on, and knowing that, I can handle seeing him every day if I have to, as long as I am no longer his wife and I do not have to answer to him when it comes to my life.

It’s that simple, but people keep making their own assumptions about my feelings according to the expected behavior of women in my society, and the more I try to explain it, the more complicated it gets!! Look at how long that post have got when I tried explaining something so simple!!!

Sorry about that!

In my darkest hour…

I don’t believe in regret; to me, it simply does not fix things, it just makes one feel worse about things that are most likely too late to change. However, there are always times when I wonder “what if..??”; I always find it intriguing to think, like it’s my own mental exercise.

Since all my drama began, I would have those thoughts from time to time:

What if I never befriended him?

What if I never believed his lies when I first called it off?

What if I walked out when it got complicated?

What if I called off the marriage like I wanted to when it kept getting complicated?

What if I never agreed to move in with his family after his father died?

What if I never forgave him when he first screwed around?

What if I had decided to stay?

I have a could-have-been answer to each of those, but I really have peace with what really happened versus what could have happened.

But in my darkest hour, one very persisting thought haunts me… what if I never had kids with him?

Every time I find myself asking that question, I realize I’m hitting rock bottom. Don’t get me wrong I love my children, they’re probably the only real thing in my life.

The thought starts creeping in by me thinking “had I not had children with him, I would have walked away for good and never had to look back or be forced to sit and have all those futile arguments”. After all, most of the time I seem to manage not to cross ways with those I don’t like.

Then, I feel horrible having those thoughts in my head, and as I start blaming myself, I hear the other voice justifying “but they deserve better than such messed up parents; and let’s face it, aside from their crazy father, you know you are far away from the perfect mom they deserve. You wouldn’t be wondering what if they were never there if you were a decent mother; but you too want the easy way out, perhaps you’re not much better than him”

What I hate the most is that the silly voices in my head are right; I am a lousy mother, the only thing that makes me a good parent is being compared to him.

Now, I should shake off the silly thoughts, and tell myself it will be over; that there are so many reasons behind it all, and that most of which must be good because my kids are two amazing, cute and innocent children who must not pay for the stupid choices I made. I should tell myself to get it together and stop wallowing in those dark thoughts and go try harder at being a better parent.

Well, if you can’t right now, then it’s ok, send Beem to the club with your parents, put Mocha to bed, and go eat away your bad mood with your friend.

Must get ice cream on my way home.

Regardless what my mood is, my kids know how to put a smile on my face :)

Beem fell and banged his head so hard the last day in Ramadan. It was horrible, we were all in tears and we worried it would be something as serious as my infamous head injuries (at the ages of 1 and 13!!) As he was crying he heard me asking my sis to bring some ice, in the midst of his tears he said “la2 mesh 3ayez talg, el wawa ra7et khalaas”




A couple of hours later, he was jumping up and down and he kinda bumped his head, only really minor bumps that do not compare to that big bang, I ended up threatening him “law etkhabat tany, ana ely ha2oom adrabak” I know it’s eftera menny, but it was too much stress!

The same night he came and sat next to me and patted my arm and kissed it saying “mammy, enty konty 3ayaty leeh”
Me: 3ashan bemm 7abeeby et3awar
Beem: 3ashan ana kont ba3ayat
Me: ah
Beem: khalas ana mesh ha3ayat, ana kowayes ahoh
Me (hugging him so hard): ana ba7ebak awy ya bembemaya
Beem: ana ba7ebik ya mammy *kiss*

El walad da ezzay 7enayen keda!


Beem (rushing to me crying): mammy mocha kharbeshny
Me (I could hear mocha crying so loudly): wenta 3amalt feeh eh
Beem (so innocently): 3adeetoh


We were visiting a friend of my father’s since college, she’s practically one of my favorite aunties ever. She had her daughter and her two grandchildren, Mohamed (4 yrs) and Sarah (2 yrs) who are simply adorable; however, Sarah makes me wish I had a baby girl; she is just A.D.O.R.A.B.L.E.



Apparently, my Beem seemed to get along with Sarah a lot more than her brother, and he was very friendly and nice and brotherly to her it made me go awww. At some point while they were all playing, Mohamed decided it was time to show off his boy-ish side and started hitting Sarah…

Sarah: maaaammmmyyy
My friend: Mohamed, matedrabsh Sarah, 3eeb
Beem (standing between Sarah and her bro): ta3aly ya Sarah waraya, matkhafeesh, (talking to Mohamed in a serious tone while pointing his index finger) matedrabsh Sarah keda tany, keda nooo, enta teb2a we7esh
Mohamed (rushing to his mom and on the verge of tears): mama bey2ool eny we7esh!
Me: awwww, la ya Mohamed, howa bas khayef Sarah tet3awar, mesh tez3al mennoh, howa bardu bey7ebbak, Beem, ta3ala 2ool le Mohamed mesh yez3al
Beem (walking slowly, and checking if Mohamed was crying for real, then deciding to pat him on the arm while smiling): matez3lsh ya Mohamed



Mocha’s vocabulary:
Mammma: ana
Nanna: my mom
Babbba: my dad
Dadda: the maid
Boo: when he wants to drink
MMUMMM: obviously when he wants food, NOW… and also when he sees food!
Denndennn: when referring to horses and donkeys, he actually means deregen deregen and sometimes he’d come and pretend to ride my tummy while I’m asleep!
2ottaa: cat, and also any other animal really
Baabyy: babies, infants, and children
Bom: balloons and balls
Beeb beeb: cars
Hawhaw: when I tell him it’s not a cat, it’s a dog!
Batta: referring to Donald Duck!
Wawa: when he’s in pain or when he wants to get some extra attention!




H’s family owns a talking parrot that says too many sentences more eloquently that both of my kids and that actually sounds like H’s younger brother!! We were visiting last week and my kids were stunned to see a talking bird! Beem had fun feeding kookoo bananas and Mocha wanted to touch it so bad but they were scaring Kookoo and we were afraid it would bite them out of panicking.

H: 2ool salamo 3aleiko ya kookoo
Kookoo: (nothing)
Beem: kookoo
Mocha: 2otta???
Me (laughing): la ya mocha, da mesh 2otta, da kookoo
Kookoo: kookooo
Mocha: 2otta
Kookoo: kookoo
Mocha: tattaa
Kookoo: kookoo
Mocha: TATTA
Me: H, mocha mesh beye3raf ye2ool el kaf fa mesameeh tatta
H: we aldagh fel waw Kaman!
Me: bayen!

Later when it was time to leave and we were saying our goodbye’s, out of the blue, Kookoo decided to say "salamo 3aleiko"!

The funny part is that yesterday H called saying that kookoo is saying tatta the same way mocha was!!


Yesterday in Beem’s nursery party, his teacher totally made him sing all the songs and say the alphabet with a word for each letter; otherwise there would have been no cake!! The look on his face as he complied was more of a death threat; I think she had it coming, she should have stopped after bon anniverssaire! During the singing however, he noticed that he did not have an empty plate in front of him, so he interrupted as he got up and grabbed one.

Later when we were singing right before we blow the candles, he kept blowing it during the singing and he thought it was funny that his teacher kept lighting it, or he simply enjoyed annoying her!


Later at the home party, I got him those candles that keep burning again even after you blow them, he had some fun time trying to blow them while we were singing him “happy birthday”. I think the cake had some saliva according to my cousin due to my “torture”!


As my cousin was leaving yesterday, we were all telling Beem to say bye and thank him for the gift (a toy gun with sniper light, thank you very much!), only Beem was too busy playing with H and her sister, so he kinda blew him off, that was when my cousin said “khalas, ana hakhod el mosadas beta3y”
Beem: khodo
A: hatoh, howa fein
Beem (rushing to get it): 7ader
A (stunned): …
Beem: ya daddooo, howa fein
Baba (laughing so hard): ahoh, adeeh le A?
Beem: la2 hatoh (and he gave it to my cousin without saying a word, then ran to his seat hiding the balls he was playing with) bas mesh hatakhod el kewar, ana khabethom!
A: tayeb! Ana haddy el mosadas le Mocha

I was laughing too hard to follow what happened next!


I had more in mind, but I can’t seem to remember any right now! More will follow when I do :)

Random Randomness…

I have a head cluttered with thoughts again… so I will put them all here in no specific order; the good and the bad. I will put them for the sake of reference; who knows, may be some day I would talk further about any of them.


I just love R! The other day, I was too sleepy at work and I had to send tons of emails to too many people in which the two common things were 1- that they were all men, and 2- they were all my superiors! So to avoid confusion, I started all mails with “Dear Sir”. Minutes after I sent my mail to R, he responded saying “Thanks! P.S. Inso, my name is R, not Sir!”… It woke me up for a minute or two, put a smile on my face and then I continued being sleepy! I could have replied saying “Dear R, I love you”.

I am my father’s daughter, I just am! Everyday I stumble on a thought that makes me realize I take a lot after my dad even more, despite how people keep saying we have nothing in common looks-wise!! What no one ever noticed before is that even though we do not share the head shape, skin color, eye color or shape, nose (thank goodness), mouth; we do share the same faint dimple on the chin!!! I just saw that resemblance a few days ago and it was like a revelation (I did mention on so many occasions that I am easily amused)!!! Other than that, we share too many things character wise, it scares me yet somehow reassures me in another way! I say it proudly; I am my father’s daughter, with all his annoying flaws, or at least most of them!

I enjoy my kids’ company beyond measures. I know I rant a lot about missing my own space and the little things I can’t seem to do with them being so dependant on me; I guess it goes back to me being restless and easily bored generally. However, truth is, I spend my happiest moments tickling, laughing and playing with them and I feel the safest when Beem hugs me saying “ba7ebik ya mAmmy” or when Mocha holds on to me to feel safe! I hope it will forever feel this way, and I hope I could be the best mother I could be to those two.

I still can’t find it in me to forgive him. I manage to speak of him without calling him names he very much deserves, but I can’t seem to even be willing to forgive him. Every time I think of my status and pray to God for all to end, a part of me wanders away wondering “howa 7asses howa ad eh zalem?! Wala faker eno keda bey7afez 3ala beet howa haddo? Wala faker eny momken fe yoom arda arga3lo?” and I refrain from cursing at him in my prayers and just say “يا رب ارفع ظلمه عني و لا تجعل مني ظالما أو مظلوما”. The worst thing is to feel oppressed and helpless; kelmet zolm is more than just those two. الحمد لله

No matter how more accepting or wiser I get, I will never NEVER understand people’s ability to inflict harm on others. It’s just beyond my ability to understand, let alone accept. This makes me too vulnerable to people’s constant deceit; however, it scares me that the day may come when I learn how to accept it, because in my head it means I would be capable of it at some later stage after which. I think too much!

Whenever I sleep right after prayers, my last prayer is always for my late Nana and to see her in my dreams. I can’t remember when it last happened; however, three nights ago I saw her in a terrible nightmare, it filled my heart with pain and fear instead of peace, and made me no longer wish to see her in my sleep. May peace and serenity find her and keep her company.

My best days at work are when I work REALLY hard. I feel active and my mood and attitude are noticeably better!! I hate boring days where I just stare at my screen and browse away!

Words just fascinate me. I appreciate thoughts, but my appreciation for words is just indescribable; it impresses when thoughts are described in the right words. This is probably why I fall too hard for kind words to the extent that it might take me longer time to see that they could be fake. Not just that, cruel words have such a huge and exaggerated effect on me; they make me dwell too hard for my own good! What can I say, I’m such a sucker for words; may God protect me from those who know how to use them without really meaning them.

Every time, every single time I decide to follow local news 3ashan mab2ash “gahla” 3ala ra2y babaya; I end up realizing that I made one wise decision to live in my own head, detached from this scary scary reality. Everything around saddens me and makes me worry about the future and my kids; I worry that one day they will be in the same place I see people in, and it just disturbs me. It leaves me to my defense mechanism, meet denial and cynicism. So please, stop giving me newspapers to read, sometimes ignorance is a blessing.


Kefaya keda!

Two things that remind me of my x!!

Two things I can’t do at all, and every time I am in need of having them done, I think of my x and remember how I never had to learn doing them simply because he did them!

Number one, tipping! I don’t know how to tip people, I swear it’s hard! I personally find stuffing people’s sweaty hands with money a tad embarrassing for me and humiliating for them!! Call me a snob, but even when I used to take 3eedeya, I never liked the idea of aunts and uncles stuffing money in my hand that way; so I can’t really imagine myself doing something to anyone that I hated being done to me!!

Now, I really wanna tip the nannies at my kids’ nursery for the efforts they’ve been doing with both my kids, but I can’t seem to find a way!! It’s pathetic, I have the money in my pocket, I know exactly who I want to give it to, but I don’t have the guts to give them the freakin’ money, I don’t know how to do it or whether I should be making eye contact and smiling or not!! I even thought of putting them in white envelopes with the names of the nannies, but I don’t know, it seemed too showy from my end, which is not how I want to be at all!! ARRRGGGHHHH I feel like crap not being able to show my gratitude and appreciation!

Thinking about that all the way from the nursery to work today, made me remember my x and how I could always whisper in his ears that I wanted to give a tip but I was too shy and he would take care of it!! Yes, I tried watching him to see how he did it but I guess I just never had it in me to it myself, it’s embarrassing!!


Number two, killing insects! I have mentioned my phobia before and I have mentioned that no matter how I attempt to fight insects, I will never really be able to stop fearing them. Two days ago, beem came running calling for me to see what mocha is doing, I went there to find him trying to grab a sticky half eaten skittles that was abandoned on the floor by him earlier that ants all over it! My first instinct was grabbing mocha while screaming hysterically and making sure no ants were on him; I washed both his hands and feet while feeling a million ants all over my body I started crying!!

Yeah, I see or think of any of those creepy living things that can surprise you like ants, roaches, geckos, spiders and even rats, and I feel utterly disgusted and now they remind me of him; all the more reasons to feel grossed!! Eww!! It’s scary because I don’t want my kids to grow up feeling the same way about insects just because they get to see me freak out every time I see any! I mean if there was anything I wish they take after their father, it would be his ability to kill all sorts of those things!!

A so-called break

Two days ago, my baby sister called from Alex where she had gone with my dad to relax for a couple of days asking me if it was possible to take three days off from work and chaperone her to Sharm El Sheikh since baba would not let her travel alone. It was right after I had published my last post and I still don’t know if she had read it or not!

My first instinct to her request was, “ok, let me figure a couple of things out and talk to mom” since she was the one supposedly accompanying her. According to my sister, ma had bailed on her because I am too stressed out and she can’t just travel for a couple of days and leave me!! So now I am that much of a burden!!

Anyway, I had a doctor’s appointment the next day for my last wisdom tooth to be pulled out, I had already started taking antibiotics to prepare; therefore, I did not want to postpone. Moreover, I had not yet called my boss to ask him if it was ok to take three days off. I packed for two anyways; mocha and I and decided that I should be ready anyway.

While packing I subconsciously started making plans for my stay in the hotel room and I couldn’t shake the thought of getting a massage one way or another if mocha sleeps or something! However, the moment I finished packing I sat on my bed and I kept murmuring, “mesh 3ayza asafer, mesh 3ayza asafer!” I did not want to leave my beem and I most certainly couldn’t take both my kids with my sister leaving me all alone all day to her conference, let alone having to travel with her colleagues with two kids is just too weird!

The next day, I called my boss on my way to the dentist and he said that he would prefer it if I don’t leave and that he did not like how sudden my request was, somehow that was a relief. So I sent my sister text telling her to talk to mama and called ma telling her it was really ok for me that she goes with my sis. Later, while waiting at the clinic my other sister called asking me if I could drive both of my sisters to the place where they gather with other NGO members to leave, I told her I wouldn’t make it on time and that they should take a taxi or something.

I couldn’t help but feel like my virtual plans were ruined, but well, I also knew I had cold feet about leaving one of my kids at home! I kept telling myself that it was all for the best, and perhaps both of my sisters taking some time off would do everyone some good.

I started planning for the weekend getaway and called my father to confirm that I can proceed with making reservations if there was available rooms in el Ein el Sokhna. When I called him he was in a grumpy mood, he blamed me for making a promise to my sister to chaperone her and getting her hopes up that way, and he told me that it was either mama or I who should go with her and that one of us should keep her word!

So, I called my boss again and promised him I will be checking my mail regularly and finally got him to agree, then called my sister and told her to put some last-minute stuff in my already packed bag and meet me downtown to take the bus. Then I finally got into the dentist’s office who overheard most of the conversations anyway, and got my wisdom tooth pulled. It was painful and it still hurts like hell, it’s worth mentioning I am under both antibiotics and Panadol extra and I still feel like a couple of anesthetic shots!!

It was extremely HOT, and it took what seemed like forever to meet and then get into the small bus and then finally move on our way to Sharm and it took a bit more until the A/C had finally kicked in!! Meanwhile, my shades failed to hide the signs of utter disgust on my face as my teeth were clenched biting on that piece of bloody cotton hoping that the pain wouldn’t drive me crazy. Nonetheless, I kept thinking, perhaps it’s the break I wanted; perhaps I would finally get to relax, even if I didn’t get to sit by the beach or get a massage, I usually enjoy slacking around in a nice and cozy hotel room. I always look for something to keep me positive and I always tell convince myself that there is a good thing about going for something as well as there’s a good thing on not doing the same thing!!

My sister kept treating me as if I were an emotional wreckage for some reason! I did not want to ask her if she had read my post; instead, I just told her that I was fine with travelling with her and that she had to stop apologizing and start relaxing and enjoying the experience. I meant it, I promise.

It was a long ride, my no longer existing tooth was killing me and I kept gulping panadol extras as if it were Chiclets. It’s worth mentioning though that mocha was quite an angel all through; he slept and when he was up he really really behaved, I’m so proud of my baby.

On our way, my sister shared the delightful news; she had run out of contact lenses; moreover, while talking to my dad on the phone as he was telling her that her trip is to be cancelled if neither mama or me went with her, she threw her glasses and got them broken, which left her technically blind. This meant we had to look for a place that sells prescription contacts once we arrive at Sharm, which was not expected to be any earlier that 8:30 pm, and just to make things more interesting, it turned out we were not booked in Naema Bay and that the hotel (resort actually) was 7 kilos away! Great!

When we finally arrived, one of us had to stay and check in while the other had to ask around for advice on where to find an optician or a pharmacy that sells contacts. Since my sister had blurry vision in addition to her original bad sense of direction, I suggested that she would handle the checking-in while I go to Naema Bay.

It’s crazy how people in Sharm know to take advantage of 7 kilos distance from where I was to Naema Bay; one word: 7arameya!! Anyways, beggars are not chooser, but it sure made me miss my car. So, once I got there, I got to see the new ugly face of Sharm el Sheikh; it was by no means the place I liked six years ago! People were extremely unhelpful and unfriendly; and strapping mocha to me in his carrier was an additional factor for people to flee instead of offering help like it normally happened in good old Cairo!! Apparently, having a baby strapped to me eliminated the sexy factor, let alone being in jeans and a shirt while everyone was in their tank tops and shorts!

After some serious effort from my side to overlook some annoying factors as I walked in Naema Bay, I finally got the contacts and bought some drinks and dinner and headed home since my sis called saying there were no dinner arrangements at the hotel. She was having a bit of an attitude over the phone and I gave her some back because honestly, I was too tired to start taking any shit from anyone at that point.

I got back to find that she was still at the lobby with the luggage because our residence was too far away and she worried I wouldn’t find the way easily given how huge the resort is. So one tuf-tuf and one gold cart later, we finally got into one nice cozy room, with the touch of nice old Egyptian style! I was excited and I started thinking things were gonna get better, little did I know.

I got into the bathroom to freshen up to find a black evil looking spider; the fact that it was rather small did not change the bigger fact that I am a wuss when it comes to insects, spiders and similar creatures in general. However, a quick evaluation of the situation helped me overcome my fear temporarily and I took off my slipper and squished it while screaming a lot louder than it would have had been given the chance! I got out of the bathroom all grossed and my mood was ruined, only it didn’t really show with all the fatigue.

Mocha stopped being an angel since he was bored, tired, hungry and simply irritated like any infant his age would. And to make things worse, he dropped a full pepsi can on his toe and it turned all blue and ugly and the poor thing kept crying! I could barely eat my meal despite how hungry I was and I asked my sis after noticing that she had finished eating to take him so that I can finish up. She kept nodding and mumbling things.

It’s worth mentioning that she had already provoked the crap out of me as I was telling her that next time we want food we should go out and eat instead of bring food into the room. She said she had dinner arrangements with the conference people, so I told her she should join me afterwards so that she can help me with mocha as I had dinner before heading back to the hotel. She simply said with her usual condescending tone, “ana 3andy fekra a7san, we split the money, we kol wa7ed feena ma3 nafso.” At that point I just waved with my hand asking her to stop talking and silently decided that it was a stupid idea to drag my son and go to a place where I simply wouldn’t be able to move freely for his convenience.

Mocha was still grumpy and irritated and I asked her again to take him so that she can comfort him until I finish up and wash my hands. Instead, she deliberately ignored me and started cleaning up after herself! I told her I would clean up for the two us and that it was more important that she attended to him since he needed comforting. Again, she insisted on ignoring me with her usual dismissive way that usually gets on my nerves.

That was it for me; I’ve been piling shit loads of crap from everyone in my family for a while, my tooth was killing me, I was having muscular strain because of that stupid carrier, my toes were hurt because of not-for-walking-long-distances slippers, I was still hungry since I didn’t really get to eat having to handle mocha, and I was still traumatized by the spider incident… I did not need attitude and most certainly not from someone who does not appreciate my help five hours after she wouldn’t stop apologizing for causing me that much trouble!!

I held my cell and I called mama asking her to come the next day so that I could go back. She kept making fun of my spider encounter and said how I once made them switch hotels because I found a roach. When she finally sensed how angry my tone was she figured I had a fight with my sis and handled the phone to baba who kept yelling at the two of us and said that if we couldn’t suck it up and behave like grownups we should return to Cairo at that instance.

Meanwhile, my dear sister blurted all sorts of insensitive shit that I think ruined our relationship for a while now. It’s sad how I thought of a million things to hurt her by saying, but I only said things like “law ma7taramteesh nafsek hagy adrabek” I almost had the urge to go punch her or something, but I held back because something in me screamed that I couldn’t do this to my sister! But I am mad at her despite how she kept crying and apologizing for all the mean things she said. Thing is, I was deeply hurt by what she said, and I know it will take me quite a while to be able to pretend it never happened.

Having her tell me I was a whiner who did not know how to do anything but complain, how I am always insisting on being right and doing things my way and never compromising brought painful memories I have been trying to block and almost succeeded until yesterday. But it helped me decide something; I am moving out, I may not be able to afford it, so I will ask for financial help from my dad which I was not willing to do before. However, I think it’s better that I keep a healthy distance between my sisters and I.

We tried to talk afterwards; in fact, she kept saying how we needed to talk and I kept shutting her off. I don’t wanna talk anymore; I no longer do those heart-to-heart-opening-up talks. I may be as talkative as hell, but once I am offended that way, I just prefer to keep my mouth shut. She kept saying how we’re still sisters and how she loves me and asked me if I loved her back, I found myself looking the other way as I told her I hated that word and I no longer believed people could actually mean it without hiding behind it as the inflicted pain on their loved ones. She said I was being silly because our sibling love is much higher than that, I didn’t have it in me to tell her that it wasn’t, and that after the things she said, I was only interested in us being sisters in a formal way, whatever that is.

Call me 3ayela for not willing to talk things through, but I am beginning to think that some feelings are better left un-discussed and un-channeled. I must confess, detachment never felt so appealing.

I had a bad night, but then again, I’ve had worse. Mocha didn’t seem comfy in his sleep either. You know your nights sucked when you fall to restless sleep after 2:00 am to wake up on your own for no good reason at 6:00 am. We showered and got out of the room to have breakfast at 7:30. On our way to the restaurant mocha fell as he was insisting on walking and running, so I told my sis to leave us there and catch her group while I took care of him, which resulted in us losing track of one another and having breakfast in two different restaurants. Luckily the waiters in my restaurant were helpful and friendly, and mocha enjoyed poking his food as I fed him.

I finally got back to the room and actually had some sleep once I checked my work mail and sent out some replies using dial-up since there is no wi-fi in the room, let alone that it costs over 26 egps an hour!!

Shortly after waking up, I got into the bathroom to find a gecko. I screamed so loud, I think I heard echo! Why! WHY would I find a spider yesterday and find a gecko today?! I decided against using the bathroom until further notice, which happened around 40 minutes later when mocha decided he needed a change!

I got into the bathroom offering the tiny gecko a treaty and promising I wouldn’t even consider harming it as long as it remained hidden! The gecko kept its promise, but as I got closer to the lavatory, I spotted a vicious looking spider on the wall next to the mirror, and it was significantly bigger than the one I killed yesterday, 3aaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

That was it! I cleaned up mocha in a hurry, got out, got dressed, called customer care and asked them to send someone from housekeeping and almost freaked at the guy when I sense how he was trying to contain his laughter, which made him apologize.

I spent around 30 minutes at the unit lobby playing with mocha until the room was done. I got back into the room to find some customer care dude checking if I was satisfied with how clean the room have supposedly become. I think that’s code for me being their joke for the past 30 minutes; I know it makes me sound paranoid, but you should have heard the tone.

I slept again once mocha was asleep, this time it was for a longer time, only my sleep was dreams about my x pointing a gun at me through a door and I could see through it, followed by my own attempt to kill myself! Ain’t life just grand?!

I woke up to find a text message from my sis saying that she was expected back 20 minutes ago and that she had already ate lunch. I called her asking if she felt like dinner together, she said there were dinner arrangements with her colleagues that she was going to ditch because she didn’t feel like eating and that she needed to rest.

She came back and asked how my day was, I told her it was ok. She said, “enty betharagy, makalateesh men sa3et el fetar le7ad delwa2ty” I told her I made an order shortly before she came back and that it was expected any minute.

So far, I hate that I came to Sharm, I hate the city, I hate the resort even though it’s supposedly five stars, I hate the cable tv that only has one channel in English, CNN and two channels in Arabic, Al Jazira & Rotana Cinema! I hate the fight I had with my sister, I hate having missed work to be trapped in a secluded place where I don’t even feel like getting out of my room because of the unbearable heat. I hate that my plans starting the next weekend two days earlier to go to el Ein el Sokhna are practically ruined.

I am starting to think my sisters are right; perhaps I can do nothing but complain! I think I have gotten used to wallowing instead of actually doing something about it; I think I have become addicted to misfortunes because it’s easier to whine than it is to change things and shake them up! Or maybe I wasn’t clear! I need a vacation either without both of my kids where I am assured they are well taken care of and happy or a vacation with both of them with me, plus someone who babysits until I get my own treats. At this point, I am not even sure if anything can work for me; therefore, I will no longer have hopes or wishes, I give up.

My babies…

I’m at work, obviously not working!

And it just hit me, I miss my kids!! Yeah, I was too tired yesterday I slept like a log and I remember shooing them out of the room in grumpy sleepy manner. Since I did not spend time with them, I seem to be making up by it by talking about them to everyone who mentions them!!

I ran out of people, so I am sharing a few things… However, be warned, this is all mushy and cute and contains mommy material that can make some people nauseous!


My Beem…

His recognition of trademarks and brand names is simply outstanding!! It started out with associating car brands to their owners! Like how Peugeot is the brand my dad drives and so on. It would only take him seeing the brand once and he would associate it to the person who happened to be there!! He calls Skittles “batabata” because Batabeet was the first one to give it to him!! And he is capable of recognizing McDonald’s golden arches anywhere; moreover, he knows the way to go from where we live!!! He recognizes Adidas… it is his father’s brand when it comes to sports wear… I find it surprising that he still points at the logo saying Adidas and refers to his father; it has been around 10 months!! He associates Pepsi with me and Lipton with my dad, he even recognizes Kodak for photos! And that includes all logos to every brand!!!! I am not sure, but I think it’s worth mentioning that I used to work with trademarks during my first pregnancy!!

He is very kind hearted and sweet regardless how angry he gets. I don’t think he’s capable of harm; it’s usually more of a reaction to him. Like he would be really angry and giving me that mean stare my baby sis refers to as “the stare of the little boy from the movie Identity”, then I would say something I know would make him laugh and in a split second he’s smiling like nothing was upsetting him!!! He’d be attempting to hit, bite or pinch me or his brother and I start tickling him, he cracks up and it’s a different mood!! I love him.

He’s a typical “ya wad ya t2eel” kinda kid! He would spend hours and hours giving strangers intense stares; not the acknowledging kind of stares, more like the intimidating don’t-you-dare-make-friends-with-me kind or the you-do-not-exist-in-the-scope-of-my-vision kind!! But once he knows you and he’s really familiar with you, he’d be too nice and friendly; he’d even be willing to share his candy with you!! That’s A LOT, trust me :) And he’s popular among the girls at the nursery too ;)

He has imaginary friends. I keep running into him playing with non existing people explaining rules to games in his not so easily understood dialect and he also explains that “mama bet2ool mes ne3mel keda…” which makes me smile because he actually listens to my rules even if he does not do by them!!


My Mocha…

We refer to him in so many words that have to do with “egram”!! I swear, the kid is motacharred, but in the most charming way possible!! He has a smile that brightens up my mood, and those big brown eyes of his just make me wanna keep kissing his little cheeks until he pulls away!

You know how sometimes we parents make all sorts of wild guesses about our kids’ future professions based on their early interests… my number one expectation of Mocha’s career is mokhber or a shaweesh (as illustrated in Egyptian Black/White movies by el shaweesh 3atteya)!! You know that dude who yanqad we ye2fesh el wa7ed men afah!! He does it all the time as his way of greeting; he practically throws his not so much of weight as he gives you the feeling that you’re being caught!! And don’t forget the amazing smile.

He hates bathing and showering! He does!! The moment he sees me filling up the tub or senses any arrangement of his post shower, he freaaaakes and starts bending himself violently trying to make me let go of him; he kicks, screams, slaps, scratches, whatever it takes!! I am ashamed to say I surrender most of the time and clean him up really well instead of real bath or shower; anyone knows how to install straps in a bathtub???

He’s extremely restless!! I get the following comments from his nursery instructor in his daily report notebook… “he’s the most active kid in the class”, “he moves a lot, it’s such a challenge teaching him to sit still in his chair”, “how do you handle him at home? How do you make him sit still?” In addition to her face to face comments that go like “is he really just 13 months old; he walks much better than kids his age usually do, let alone the climbing” and “he is so friendly with other kinds and he interacts very well, and he has such a smile”… yessss my cutest mocha ever :)


I can’t wait until I’m home and spending some time with my little monsters.

On “harm”

In addition to my yesterday drama, I had not so great news regarding my divorce case. It’s to be postponed till next week for us to prepare witnesses who would witness on the harm caused by my x. The divorce case is called “طلاق للضرر” and apparently I have to prove harm!!

Having to think of witnesses to show for such a statement –preferably men as per the judge’s words-, I couldn’t help but think of the people –men- who know about the “harm”. Not much!! The count of people who know about the dirt in my divorce is very much limited; some people know there are problems but they don’t know how messy it has become and that it’s currently at court!!!

I can always count the readers of my blog whom I think make a bigger number than those who know in my real life!! The guys I know whom I told are around five, the girls are around the same number, my uncle and two of my dad’s friends!! I should have thought of that when I was being “harmed”!

So just to have people learning from my “experience”… To all the women who read this, for future reference, if your husbands get abusive, farrago 3aleehom khal2o, and make sure there are enough males watching!!! You just never know!

Anyways, I am not so scared about it; I came up with a good list of witnesses that I will pass to my lawyer and hopefully the judge wouldn’t have more requests before he spits out the ruling! I am glad that I have friends praying for me day in and day out and I am glad that the next time I go by the end of June, I will not be alone; I will have someone standing by my side whom I can hide in his arms if I need to feel weak and cry, uncle G.

On a lighter note, I was transferring my kids to a new nursery today. As I filled the application for each of them this is what I wrote under “Is there anything else you think we need to know about your child?”…

Beem: He’s stubborn and he has a good memory, but he’s easily distracted. His father and I are currently separated until the divorce is final…

Mocha: He’s very stubborn and fidgety and restless, and he hates being left alone even when asleep. His father and I are currently separated until the divorce is final…

I needed to write that last line; I needed that fact acknowledged to whoever reads it!! And I think their teachers should not press so hard on things like “what does daddy do?” and “how do you spend your time with daddy?”

That’s it for the day I guess! Oh, and I am going to art therapy today, again. I’ve been told I could use more of that!

My Mochaccino <3

1- When he wakes up after a good sleep, he keeps opening and closing his eyes to check if I am there, then starts stretching with a big smile on his face… if I am still asleep, he sits up then throws himself at me causing me to wake up all startled!!

2- Whenever my cell phone rings or there is music, he’d sit up, starts moving his whole body while clapping! He also claps when asked to!!

3- When I’m taking him out (carrying him), he waves my sisters goodbye as he hears me saying “bye ba2a”

4- When I come back from work and my baby sister is carrying him, he literally throws himself at me, and hugs me back when I hug him, it melts my heart!

5- When he’s bored of staying with me in my room and either one of my sisters walks in, he sits up and starts clapping and tries to jump so that they take him, just like a puppy!

6- When I am too busy cleaning up or doing whatever, he loves opening up the bag where I keep my socks and he knocks himself out playing with clean socks rolled around each other like small balls, just like a kitten!

7- When I am on my bed using the laptop and he’s playing on the floor right next to me, he keeps looking at me to check if I am watching him as he starts moving towards my shoes in an attempt to play with them, sometimes he stops and sometimes he just gives me a charming smile and starts playing with my shoes!!

8- When he’s tired from crawling and walking, he comes to my bed and leans and keeps making begging noise so that I put him on the bed next to me, then he squeals with joy and claps once he’s next to me!

9- Whenever any of us sits close enough with food on our lap, be it a sandwich or yoghurt, he starts making hungry noises and wouldn’t calm down until he is eating whatever it is!

10- I don’t think he likes cheese! He loves tomato, and would do anything for me to let him eat napkin!

11- He loves playing with all of Beem’s toys, especially when Beem is not home! Actually, he’s extra ctive and happy when Beem isn’t around…

12- When Beem is back from an outing, he smiles and cheers as he walked in and intentionally bumps his head to Beem’s as Beem rushes in to greet him, when they are playing together, their favorite game is crawl-racing, I like watching that!

13- Yesterday, as Baba and other family members were gathered to pray, he slept on his tummy on the prayer mat as to imitate them!!! I couldn’t believe it!!!

14- When either my sis or I are not paying enough attention to him, he keeps making peek-a-boo attempts until we notice him then he runs/crawls away :)

15- He sings himself before he falls asleep a long never ending “AAAaaaAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaasa” symphony :)

Help!

He’s calling, over and over and over. Normally, I wouldn’t have even bothered answering him. Actually, I know all the reasons behind his calls, and I hate them, yet for some idiotic reason I am tempted to reconsider!

His aunt visited a couple of weeks before New Year’s; she was trying to offer –on his behalf- a civil divorce with some compromising from our side. I was willing to agree, only my dad brought up a very important point: he’s unreliable and fickle; there are no guarantees he’d stick to whatever we agree on, so let it be what the court rules even if it’s much less because it was never about the money, it is about him being taught a lesson that actions DO have consequences.

I love my dad’s idealism, and there is no room for criticism here; I am my father’s daughter when it comes to ideals and notions I guess. And he has done me wrong, and killed something in me that I know will never be brought back to life. I have accepted my loss; but it would be rewarding to know that there is a price for him to pay, and that has nothing to do with holding a grudge.

It was mentioned to his aunt that he never even bothered asking to see the kids, to which she argued, that he was too proud. My father told her that pride should never come between a good loving parent and his/her kids, and asked her why pride has not stopped him from asking for the gifts he got me as his wife!! She was speechless, of course she should be; this what she got for defending an idiot and a coward (I say it without malice, I promise; it’s merely what he is).

So now I understand; she probably talked to him, she probably blamed him for making her look so bad with his weak paternal instincts and senseless logic, she probably went on and on about how adorable my kids have become; how beam makes up words and sometimes sentences, and how mocha is starting to have more significant features. Perhaps it had awaken something in him; however, whatever her words had awakened, it will dose off again the moment he discusses it with any of the dumb acquaintances with whom he’d been sharing private details.

Anyway! He keeps saying he wants to see them. I don’t mind! Well, actually I kinda do, but I know better to not let it get in the way of him communicating with them. Nonetheless, I don’t want to traumatize my sons; he can only see them if he promises to be a good father to them. He can’t just drop by and see them because he feels guilty or pressured; guilt and pressure won’t last and I wouldn’t want either of my kids to be unhappy missing him because he’s no longer feeling guilty or pressured to be present in their lives. He can’t just back off from this promise like he did with the promises he made to me, he can’t; I won’t let him.

He says he wants to meet at the club, and I say it has to be at home, where it’s safe and warm, and where I can distract beam if he cries as his father leaves. He objected to coming at our place because “ana ma2darsh adkhol el beet da tany”, to which I responded “your aunt dakhaleto, was she not welcomed?” It was a long futile argument that probably cost me a ticket as I drove while having it.

He doesn’t understand me, he never did. He thinks I am using my kids to punish him, but I am not! I don’t want another scene at the club with my son breaking my heart by refusing to leave with me. I don’t want my son to start saying his name when he wouldn’t care enough to show. My sons deserve nothing less than a good loving father; if they can’t have him, then they will not need to compromise for less.

If he doesn’t want to visit them at home because he’s too proud to set his feet where he has repeatedly insulted me, fine, we can arrange to have that visit at my aunt’s, the one who knows about all that.

However, I know he will say a lot of crap about not wanting to go there either; I also know why. He wouldn’t be able to bring his other two aunts, or his cousins who practically kicked me out, or his grandma who had falsely accused me of never greeting her in the morning. He would feel too awkward being hosted by people who would rather have nothing to do with him, and it should embarrass him.

I don’t care! This is another consequence he has to deal with. He has to be reminded of his insensitiveness every time he sees my sons, he has to feel uncomfortable and he has to spend time telling his family what the kids look like now, because they won’t be able to come and see for themselves, unless of course the can get over the discomfort. Except their cousins, they are never allowed in even if they did apologize to me in person, I would rather they don’t because there is really no need when I won’t be accepting their apology.

Am I being too hard? Perhaps! Should I give him room to try and talk me out of it? I don’t know, I don’t think I should.

I can’t help but wonder though, what if he really misses them and wants to see them??? Wouldn’t I be denying my kids a semi-reformed father in case he’s true?? My mind is going back in circles all over again! I am not sure what to decide. HELP!

More thoughts…

Nora left me an extremely nice comment right here saying that my kids will recover from whatever negative effect my divorce could have on them. My reply to her took some form of pros-and-cons analysis, but it went on and on, I though I better put it here since here is where I think out loud. I just reread it right now and realized it got much longer here!

This is what it would have been like if I had stayed in that marriage:

I would have never been a happy person. I have tried to put up with resenting him for two years after he first started having some sort of a girlfriend during his MBA, during my not so easy pregnancy with beano. In some sense, my lack of trust or tolerance made it easier for him to look for someone who would listen to him and tell him he’s right, even if it was just pretenses and lies. At least I know he will forever blame me for that.

Two extremely unhappy parents. That was what we offered. We would have always found reasons to disagree and fight for we have lost the reasons that brought us together. I loved him for the strong protective and loving man I thought he was, I had blind faith in him and I willingly compromised a lot to please him. He loved that naïve little girl who saw the world in him and yet somehow managed to be the mother he never had and always acknowledged he deserved nothing but the best. After his first incident, he was someone I could no longer trust, and I was the doubtful wife who always questioned his actions silently yet gave him accusing looks from time to time. Yeah, I realize men can’t handle that. Humans can’t handle that.

This would have resulted in a miserable mother, who is always crying when he’s not home, who is too busy to even notice her kids’ needs because she’s too absorbed in her own self-pity. A mother who would made her kids resent the father even if she doesn’t do it on purpose.

Him, he would have come home every day (like he did), too tired and exhausted to spend anytime with those two. He would shout and ask for some quiet so that he can sleep and on weekends he would be too busy figuring out ways to skip home.

We did that for a short period of time thank God. I will never forget the look on beano’s face whenever he saw me crying the way I did and kept patting me, the way he freaked out when he first saw us yelling at one another and me falling on the floor and not being able to stand up again. I will never forget the first day after he arrived from that business trip and started yelling at beano for getting his stuff out of the suitcase, worrying that it would make me notice something I was not supposed to see, the way beano cried, yet held on to his daddy because he missed him.

Every time I think of those two particular incidents, I am filled with hate towards him. It breaks my heart to remember how cruel he was to the two of us because it was the only way he could deal with his guilt, before he started making up lies and believing them. I am thankful my son shall not remember those days. Sometimes when I feel I am up to it, I over compensate by showing him photos of him and his daddy in the carrousel or in the pool or just having fun at home like they briefly did.

We would have earned the Worst Parents Award if we had stayed. I already think mocha is too restless and jittery because I was that tense during pregnancy. I am not even sure whether it’s good or bad that Mocha has zero recollection of his dad whatsoever. Not even a photo!


This is what my kids have now instead of a father:

An amazingly loving and adoring grand father, aka daDDoo. The way my father’s face lightens every time he’s playing with beano makes up for a lot. The way my father looks and sounds happy when mocha smiles at him is just priceless! Yes, he’s not that much of an authority figure anymore, not the way he was with us at least, but he does give beano the I-mean-business stare from time to time. I am wondering though, is it ok that my son is starting to refer to my dad as baba instead of daddoo? I think he’s copycatting us when we call him that.

The cutest and coolest aunties, Maat (aka aGGaa) and Goody (aka GoGo). Maat seats beano on her lap as she uses her laptop and plays the songs he likes. She holds mocha and moves as if they’re dancing as she sings to him. Goody lets beano listen to her mp3 player and teaches him new words every day, and sometimes even lets him play with her hair when he feels like it. She also keeps mocha’s company and takes photos of him as he crawls around and keeps telling him he has the most beautiful eyes, which she believes are hers.

One kind, yet somehow crazy grand mother, aka naNNa. Yeah, she adores them, despite all the loud yelling and whining; she loves them way too much. She would defend beano when I start giving him hard time, and try to explain to him how to behave, yet doesn’t get hurt when he shoos her away or gives her an angry dismissive “na2aa”. She would take care of mocha all day long and do her best to feed him and tolerate it when he insists on wiping his mouth on her shoulder, and I think this one appreciates her, for he gives her his warmest and most beautiful smile when he sees her walking by.

Moi, aka maMMa. I feel so small trying to think of my role. I love it when beano runs to my arms and I hold him so tight and sometimes even twirl, he pats me on the shoulder and kisses me on the cheek when he’s grateful. I ask him “meen habib mama?” he says “boMMba” and I kiss him. When he keeps nagging about something and I am too tired to do it, sometimes I lose my cool, but I make sure I make it up to him. When I start yelling at him for pulling my hair so hard when I am headachy, I hold him afterwards and try to explain that it hurts me too much when pulls my hair. I hold mocha as much as I can, sometimes he hugs back and my heart just melts. I play with him and tickle him and make him spend as much time laughing as I can to make up for all the crying he had to put with while in my womb. I wish I could do more. I wish I could control my temper and not lose it the way I do from time to time. I attend lectures on parenting, how to manage and release stress properly, and how to help kids express themselves so that I can be a better mom. People tell me it’s a good start, but I think they give me too much credit.


There are those other family members and friends that my beano recognizes and loves…

Brrrr; this is how he refers to my Uncle G, because of the sound he makes while they play together. He recognizes the brand of the car he drives and whenever he sees it he points at it and says “brrrr”

Maaa, my cousin’s adorable wife whom beano just adores, basically because he has an eye for pretty ladies and because she is way too nice to him and brought him colorful blocks that he now refers to as “kAAb” (I have no idea why)… whenever asked “who brought you those?”, he’d say “Maaa”

Oaaa, yeah Ola, he did say your name once or twice when I asked him who bought him the goungoun (ball) and the aanaan (car), I ask him “u like Ola?”, he nods :)

Heeeba, one of my best friends, who now he mentions her name whenever he sees us getting ready to go out and say “Heeeba, baaaaye??” I tell him “no, we’re not seeing Heeba today” he says “Heeba, aaanaan” as to say he wants to ride in her car, which he also recognizes its brand now!

He happens to recognize D’s photo over facebook and kisses it when he sees it. She’s surprised he knows her at all for he totally ignored her back before she left the country!


Let’s not forget…

The big 3ann3ann. My dad’s driver, who taught my son the whole aanaan concept; now every car or motorcycle is aanaan, and so is the guy.

Daaadaaa, the maid who slacks around the house because she’s busy playing goungoun (football) with him, which makes naNNA go kookoo.


I think missing a father who wouldn’t even bother stopping by to check on them is not something to miss having. I don’t mean to trash him. As a matter of fact I know that one day he might come to his senses and realize how much he lost for not taking the time to bond with them. However, I don’t feel that sorry for him anymore.

The little voice in my head just worries about the time when my kids are around 6 or whatever age kids realize other children have daddies while they don’t! I am leaving whatever answer I shall give them to then; perhaps then, he would be involved, not that I am counting much on it.

I had no idea it would be that long! I should do word count from now on.

Things that make me smile, until…

Beano

My son rushing towards the steering wheel as we get in the car, standing on my seat and saying with his most excited tone: “aannnn annnnnnnnnnnnn” (that’s meant to be driving sound for him)

Me: Bomba (that’s what my best friend D calls him), edrab el kalaks
Him: 2a2aaaaaa *hitting the steering wheel*
(it makes me laugh every time!!)

When he insists on pulling away the newspaper from my sister since it is my dad’s thing to sit and read it.

When he mistakes my hair band for hers and pulls it off (with a huge chunk of my hair), just to give it to her saying “GooGooo” (that’s what he calls her)

When everyone is asleep and he’s restless, so he keeps saying each name and putting both his palms on one cheek so as to signal that each one of them is asleep

Mocha

When he is awake and tries to pull himself up, and then sees me approaching him and gives me that BIG smile and his cute brown eyes seem to get much bigger!

When he crawls next to his sleeping brother and starts grabbing his hair; it feels like he’s taking his own revenge for all the times beano would grab him hard to kiss him

When he crawls too fast with excitement to go towards a colorful toy

When I stretch both of my arms high, holding him and he laughs so hard until he starts drooling

When he keeps mumbling meaningless things at the top of his lungs only to pause and smile when he notices I am silently looking at him and smiling



I just love those two, looking at them when they both play together makes things feel a little bit better until I start wondering how things will be different and how they are meant to change one day from little cuties to annoying kids, then obnoxious teenagers. Will they one day believe the lies their father might tell about me and who ended the marriage? Will they accuse me for not caring enough for the two of them to swallow my pride and remain married to their dad like my own father says?? Truth is, I am scared to death.

October 9, 2007