You Don't Understand What It's Like to Be Me

"You don't understand what it's like to be me!" shouted my

nearly 12 year old daughter when I told her she could not

sleep on the couch and instead had to sleep in her bed. Of

course I don't. Just like I don't understand what it's like to 

be her nearly 13 year old brother or her 15 year old sister

or her 16 year old brother....or the 64 year old doorman to

our building. 

I understand that she's beginning her journey through "Put-

upon-ville" and she won't arrive to "Finally-got-a-clue City"

until she's already visited "Whaddya-mean-I-can't-wear-

make-up Falls" and "But-all-my-friends-are-doing-it-burg."

There's like a whole road map of teen angst that she's yet

to travel. Yeah, and I'm so looking forward to it. That and

a root canal sans anesthesia. 

I can't blame her for my boredom with her particular road

trip through Hell. It was MY choice to have 3 teenagers 

before her and another one after her. I guess THIS would

be the reason for that whole "spacing" concept when it comes

to having children. Yeah. The light bulb finally came on and 

I get it now...a day late and a dollar short.

But that's fine. I'm in it now. And I'll be grateful when it 

passes and they've all....errrrrrrrrr.....WE'VE all made it 

through the teen years and the whole family has become 

human again. And then I'll start planning my revenge. 

I'll take lots of vitamins and herbs, like echinacea and garlic

and St. John's Wort. I'll eat right and exercise and live to 

be 147 years old and get Alzheimer's and wear adult diapers

and dribble on my chin when I eat. And they'll all be argu-

ing about whose turn it is to take Mom this month. HA!

And in my head I'll be laughing the last laugh and I'll tell 

each one in turn, "You don't understand what it's like to be

me!"

Bright Spots in My Day Today 4

So, here's my other beautiful daughter, Samiya! She's 11 years old and sharp as a tack. She makes straight A's and loves to read and write and play word games with me. She's definitely in the genius range on the I.Q. chart and I do not say this only because she's my kid. She's got the makings of a rocket scientist or a neuro-surgeon. Of course, she also loves people and wants to be a mom when she grows up but as to any career choices, she remains undecided. I'm just saying she's smart enough to write her own ticket.

Could be she's going to be a guitarist...she has a deep love for music. She's also quite athletic and definitely owns the goal when playing soccer with her brothers and some of the younger boys on our street. When the big boys come, though, she sits out. "They always aim at my face, the jerks," she complains. Samiya is for the most part, a pretty good girl. But not unlike her siblings, she's got quite a streak of ornery in her. The difference between her and Ismail or Aiman is that she is also a bit sly. I remember walking in on her when she was 4 coaching Aiman to stand on the dining room table and dance. When I cleared my throat she looked right at me and said, "Mommy, look what Aiman is doing! Are you going to spank him?"

"Yup. Right after I spank you!" She yelled YIKES and took off to the bedroom to hide under her bed.

Samiya is our resident "news anchor" and we have a running joke about her becoming the youngest correspondent for Al-Jazeera or CNN. Does she tattle? You betcha. We're working on that, though. And she's trying hard to quit. Samiya is also sweet and helpful. She sometimes will go clean out one of her brothers' closet or make everyone's bed just because she felt like it. Talk about your random acts of kindness! She helps me to clean house every Friday while the boys are at the mosque for Juma'a (Friday)
prayers. She knows how difficult it is for me to keep up with the housework alone during the week while
all of the kids are buried under homework and studies. So we sweep out the house, change the bed linens,
hang clothes, dust and scrub out the bathrooms while the boys are out from under our feet. She's quite a
helper.

Samiya and Aiman have the same voice pitch and sometimes she will fake like she is Aiman and start making noises or singing loudly in order to get him into trouble with me. The minute I yell, "AIMAN! BE QUIET!" I can hear her crack up laughing while I hear him do that, "UNNNHHHHHHH! IT'S NOT ME!" whine.
Rotten girl. Samiya is tough as nails and has actually laid me out with a right cross during a kick-box lesson from me. I was trying to teach her the right positioning to land a right cross and got just a little too much "in her grill" and she got me right across the jaw and knocked me to the ground. Then she turned all girl on me and started that high pitched squealy nervous laugh combined with "I'm sorry, Mommy! I didn't think it would work."
OH it worked baby. She rocked my molars. I love this kid beyond belief. She's definitely a light in my life.