What a SLUG!

*photo courtesy of en.wikipedia.org

This is me as it relates to my keeping up with my blog since I've been back in the U.S.  And I don't mean to be all "Oh, I'm so, so terribly busy with all my busyness and stuff," as though other SAHM's aren't just as busy or possibly busier than I am.  I'm not that self-absorbed.

But honestly, this has been the roughest adjustment period after a move....EVER. Randa is still not out of her mandatory "we moved again"depression and it's been 2 months. 

Remember the expression, "It's Africa hot?" Well, damn if Texas isn't Africa-hotter. I haven't the energy to get out of bed in the morning...which, less face it, is forced energy anyway having 5 teenagers all at the same time.  But good grief, you can just feel your sweat glands breathing heavily and telling your brain in the morning, "Aw, come on! We're exhausted already! Leave us be."

We're also fasting from dawn until sunset for the month of Ramadan right now. Yes, it is earlier than last year.  It's actually about 10 days earlier EVERY year as the Islamic calendar (Hijri calendar) is lunar-based as opposed to the Gregorian calendar (you know, the "regular one.") And while not eating really isn't that big a deal for us, and after the first day or two, neither is the getting started without that morning caffeine boost.  But going without water until 8:30 at night in 104 degree F heat is definitely a challenge. And it really does take a lot out of you.  So there's that....

AND trying to figure out how to enroll kids into what schools and with no documentation because the Egyptian Ministry of Education refused to release their transcripts to me because I'm not their father has been frustrating to say the least.  I may actually have this figured out now that I've made 9,006 telephone calls, sent 439 emails, and put 417 additional miles on my husband's Honda driving around scouting out schools in our area that aren't classified as "bad."

I am excited about our new house and would really like to get started fixing things that need fixing and gardening and decorating and putting a big chunk of those awesome "For the Home" and "DIY projects" items that I've squirreled away on Pinterest to good use.  But damn....it's Africa Hotter and who in the hell has the time? Once these kids get back in school (God willing, I'm able to enroll them,) I'm going to do at least one hour of gardening per day, one Pinterest project per week, and one chapter per day on my novel that is currently collecting dust in the back burners of this laptop. 

Rest assured. You, my whopping 3 fans, have not been forgotten.

Yukon on My Mind

steamy....
   sweaty.....
       sultry...but not in a sexy, New Orleans late September kind of way....

stinky....
   funky....
      damp...that's the dirty laundry piled up on the floor in front of my washer...

empty....
   dusty......
      dry....that's the  inside of my roll-on deodorant bottle




this is the summer from Hell.  I have showered more times per day than an automatic car wash runs when giving away free washes with every tank of gas purchased.  my permanent hair dye washed out after two weeks due to frequent washing. i look at pictures of Alaska, polar bears, popsicles, ice cubes and toboggans just to cool off. the kids broke one of the fans. i offered to exchange the guilty party for a new fan but the guy thought i was joking and held out his hand for the 110 pounds that a new fan will cost me. my hilarious youngest son cut out the picture of the fan from the box and gave it to me. he said this fan will still provide air even in a power outage. who knew that a finger poke to the forehead could make someone cry?

i look at the 10-day forecast and it's as though the guy just made photo copies of the same forecast back in late May and then took a 3-month vacation. 0% chance of rain, 0% chance of rain,  0% chance of rain.

maybe we should move out of Africa and into Alaska.


    

NO I Don't Know Where the Promenade Deck Is

It's 5 million humid degrees outside and it's 1 a.m. and my kids are "bored" and begging me to entertain them and I would LOVE to play "TAG with a Cattle Prod" and I'll be "IT" but I don't have a cattle prod and I already made the rule that we can't run in the house.  And for the record, my name tag, if I were required to wear one for this SAHM-gig, would read MOMMY and not "Julie McCoy - Cruise Director" so it's not my responsibility to entertain you people.  This is a really small apartment packed to the gills with hot and sweaty people and no air conditioning. It's not the Love Boat.

Have I mentioned it's hot?  I HATE the summer.  Winter is cool because, even if we don't have heat, we can put down area rugs, pile on the blankets, wear two  pairs of socks and snuggle.  But summer? YUK. You can only BE naked. I mean, what's after that? I don't even plug in the water heater in the summer. And you'd think that that would provide us with cold showers all around, right? Wrong. Egypt is so damn hot that the cold water comes out of the pipes hot. Yup. Like solar powered water heater without the inconvenience of putting all those little solar panels up on top of the building.

So I've got the box fan blowing on me on high and hoping that my computer doesn't overheat because you know, NO AIR-CONDITIONING. I'm going to go take my fourth shower for the day and hit the sack. But I'll be dreaming of the Yukon, baby. And snow and polar bears drinking icy bottles of coke. And maybe I won't wake up so sweaty tomorrow.

It's Africa Hot

Yeah, well, Africa Hot here in Africa just means the usual kind of hot.
The hot where you have all the ceiling fans and the portable fans run-
ning full blast all day and all night until the electric company shuts off
the power grid for about 2 hours so that the city can handle the sheer
volume of wattage being sucked out of it at once. Or maybe they're
just giving the little gerbils a tea and cigarette break outside of their
wheels.

And we sweat. We sweat while we sleep, while we eat, while we sit,
while we shower. Yes, we sweat IN the shower. We haven't even
hooked up the water heater since we've moved in. Who needs it?
Africa hot means solar heated water pipes. However, this also means
you don't get to drink cold water unless you've remembered to put
water bottles in the fridge. And with 5 kids, you'd think that would
not be a problem, right? You would be so WRONG. Because with
5 kids, we drink hot water out of the cold tap all the time. Mainly,
because we can't ever find the water bottles.

As a mom, I drink a bottle of water. I then carry it with me on my
next trip to the kitchen and wash it out and refill it and stick it in the
freezer (usually behind a bag of bread to hide it from those cold water
sucking fiends I laughingly call my offspring.) My kids, however, take
a bottle (usually my ice-chippy cold bottle hidden behind the bread
bags) and suck it down and then find a new place to store the empty
bottle. These places change hourly. I have found the empty bottles
under the computer desk, behind my bed, under the couch, on top
of the t.v., in the toy box, and on the top shelf of the closet.

And today, with all the water bottles empty, and the fans going full
blast blowing around hot air, Ismail and Randa decided to teach
themselves how to bake bread today....at 3 o'clock in the afternoon.

GACK.

Yes, It's Hot Thanks for Asking

I wear a hijab. That means I wear loose fitting clothing that doesn't outline my body and I cover everything with the exception of my face and hands. I wear a scarf to cover my hair. It's sometimes viewed by westerners as an "oppressive" type of garb, but it's actually quite freeing. When I talk to men, they actually have to deal with ME...not just my boobs. No, really. I don't have to worry about whether or not a colleague, a salesclerk or other person that I have to interact with during my daily routine as a mother/wife/customer/patient is actually hearing what I'm saying or is mentally admiring my hair or tight pants or cleavage....because all of those distractions are removed from the equation. I'm an actual equal. And I reserve those "distractions" or "ornaments" of me for the one man in my life who should see them: my husband. Well, my sons or brother or dad or paternal uncles or maternal uncles can see me without my hijab. But I would never be allowed to marry any of them. And yes. It's hot under all these clothes in the summertime. But that's okay. I chose to wear this for my religious reasons. And I am not being forced to wear it. Just like my daughters aren't forced to wear it. I started teaching my older daughter to wear it when she was 11 because she began developing rather early. It was a means of protection for her. She was not aware that she needed protection from some filthy piggish men who were making disgusting remarks about her. She is autistic, so she isn't aware of these types of foul-minded people or how disrespectful they were speaking about her. I was though and I put them in their place. And yelled out for her father who came downstairs and chased them off of our street. And to her it's just normal because she is a big girl and dresses like Mommy. My younger daughter discussed the issue with me and when she turned 11, she also began to wear hijab. She liked the idea of the girls only family tradition. And it's like a club for us girls. And she wears the latest styles of scarves and enjoys being modest. And sometimes she gets hot, too. But she knows that she can always take it off when she gets home. So it's no big deal. And it's our choice. Respect it.