You Think Junk Yards Are Cool, But I'M Embarrassing?

Mornings are tough some days at our house.  They are much tougher when I do stupid things like stay up all night long watching old movies that I really liked back in the 80's and 90's. (Why DO they put all the good stuff on after my bedtime?) So last night I stayed awake watching re-broadcasts of a Turkish soap opera and an Egyptian soap opera that I had missed earlier in the evening. Then one of my favorite movies came on (Something to Talk About with Julia Roberts, Robert Duvall, Dennis Quaid and Kyra Sedgewick) and I watched it from beginning to end.

So chances are I'm not going to get the required rest when the movie ends at 5:30 a.m. and my alarm is set for 5:50 a.m. to get the boy to school on time. I just pulled a blanket over me and took a power nap on the couch. We actually got him to school on time. And I bought potatoes and got home by 7:15. Woohoo. Yay, me. I celebrated in the form of a nap until 10:30.

My daughter goes to school from 12:30 until 4:30 p.m. So we arrive half an hour late to pick up her brother and she's about forty-five minutes early for her classes. Whatever. Beats making 6 trips up and back each day, doesn't it? So she turned the television on while I was getting dressed and slugging coffee and some movie I've never seen before was on. Samiya called me out to the living room.

"Mom, what is that place they're climbing the fence to get into?"

     "That's a junk yard, Honey."

"Wow. That is so cool. It's really clean for a garbage dump."

     "Child, it's not a garbage dump. It's a junk yard. It's where they tow wrecked and broken down cars."

"They're very organized.  Are all of them like that?"

      "Like what?"

"Like stacked in that whole OCD way?"

     "Some of them are just haphazardly tossed about but the best ones are organized.  I never took you to a
junk yard when we lived in the states?"

"How would I know?  We left when I was two."

     "Oh, yeah."

"So why would you go to a junk yard?"

     "Well, you know when stuff breaks on your car or you get in a  wreck or you just need a really expensive part, instead of going to pay for a new one at a  parts store  you can call around to the junk yards near you and ask if they have the alternator or engine or door or fender or bumper to the same kind of car that you have and how much it is. And chances are you'll  end up paying a good deal less."

"Oh. That is just the coolest thing I've ever seen."

     "Your granddad and Uncle Tracy would be so proud to see those Southern roots exposed.  I like junk yards because they're sort of the silver lining of a totaled car."

"What do you mean?"

     "Well, once a car is wrecked so badly that the owner can't drive it anymore, it's towed off to the junk yard and the owner gets a new one after his insurance pays out, etc. But junk yards are sort of like a recycling center for vehicles and they help cut down on costs for people who need to repair their cars and it's a lucrative business for those who own the lot. I've always appreciated a good junk yard. It's nice to see another girl who does, as well."

"Mom, can we go now? I'm going to be late for school and I'm kind of over this whole emotional tie you seem to have with a dump for broken cars. I really only brought it up because I liked how they stacked them up. You're so embarrassing!"


Teenagers.

Consideration of Others IS Consideration of Self

RESPECT - an act of giving particular attention: Consideration

Respect is a vital ingredient to any relationship. It is needed for a healthy relationship with self, partner, parent, spouse, child, neighbor, competitor, stranger, boss, employee and even enemy. (Yes. There are enemies who hate one another but still respect one another.)

I have encountered more disrespect in the past twenty hours than I think I am able to handle. I've had a lit cigarette flicked at me while the cigarette-flicker looked right at me, been lied to by a woman who "desperately needed to buy this stuff" so she could get back to her baby that she had locked in the house by himself....only to find that 2 boxes of green tea, some toy soldiers and a  punch balloon were her emergency AND she had her 4 yr old boy in tow (I told her, "May God forgive you for lying to get ahead in life and setting a bad example for your son) and then when I went to buy a new coffee mug at a different store, the two employees there were more interested in  playing Romeo to teenage girl Juliets that they volleyed back and forth as to who was going to help me and neither did. I complained LOUDLY to the owner and reminded him that if it weren't for the customers that his employees refused to help they wouldn't be needed to work there and that I would never shop there again.

My son "borrowed" my mp3  player without permission and took it into the bathroom to listen to it while he did his business...only somehow my mp3 player fell into his "business" before he flushed and now it and more than 140 songs I'd purchased are covered in poo and the circuits inside are fried because he "rinsed it off."

I've been called upon to lift furniture and clean up a nasty dirty apartment by a woman who claims that she is my friend without warning and treated with disdain when I apologized and stated that I was not at home but in fact visiting a friend on the other side of town. I suppose she expected us to get up from the dinner table and run to her aid even though her own sisters, brother, mother and children refused to help her and she didn't say a word to them.

People! Respect is key. The base of my marriage is respect. The reason that my husband and I have been happily married for 18+ years is because we respect each other and TREAT each other with respect. We do not call names in arguments and have never raised a hand one to another. EVER. My friends can attest to the fact that I treat them with respect 100% and that even if we are arguing, I respect secrets told to me and still don't repeat them, even if the friendship ends. If I am wrong, I respect myself and friends enough to ADMIT IT and apologize.

Today, I feel that respect is something that I give to everyone right out of the gate and that I get very little to none in return. I am not a happy camper and due to the disrespect of my wishes and property by my son, I can't even plug in my headphones and sing away my blues. Instead I'm hoping to "blog it out." *sigh*

Go out of your way to treat others with respect today (and everyday.) It is a reflection of the respect you have for yourself as well as for others who share your planet.

Apples and Their Distance From Trees

"I want my turn on the computer! I want my turn on the computer!"

     "What? Are you 6? Obviously I'M taking a turn on the computer. Just wait."

"I can't wait. It's my turn. It's my turn. Come on! It's my day off!!!!"

     "So when exactly is MY day off? Hmmmm?"

"You have 5 days off a week while we're all at school."

     "You seriously think that?"

"Well, yeah. You get to use the computer all day, every day while we're at school."

     "Who the hell do you think takes you there, takes you home, buys the food, cooks the food, cleans the house, etc?"

"Well, you do. But come on, Mom. It's my weekend. Now let me have my turn before one of the boys steals it from me."

     "I swore I'd never wish this on you like my mother wished it on me. But:  I HOPE YOU HAVE FIVE KIDS JUST LIKE YOU!"

Twelve Years Ago Today

It was snowing and we slipped out of the house at around 6 in the morning and got in the van and drove to Silver Spring, Maryland.....and managed to STILL hit traffic on our way making us late for my 7 o'clock appointment. It didn't matter. And then they got me ready and wheeled me into the operating room. My husband dressed in scrubs came in with me and held my hand and talked me through my claustrophobic attack because the oxygen mask was too big and seemed to cover the bottom part of my eyes. And then I felt this intense yank at my abdomen and I let out a big yell that sounded like, "AHHHHHHHHH!" And my doctor freaked because she thought that my anesthesia was not strong enough in the epidural and I assured her that I was not feeling pain but relief. That kid had been crushing my diaphragm for nearly 3 months and I could at last breathe freely. She looked at the baby in her hands and agreed, "Oh, yes. He's a big one."

He weighed in at 10 pounds 5 ounces and he was beautiful. Aiman Gabreel. My baby boy. And today he is 12 years old and handsome as ever, funny like there is no tomorrow and sassy. But you know, smart ass is a genetic trait in my family. We embrace our crazy proudly.

I love you, Aiman!
Happy birthday.

I'm Number Two! I'm Number Two!

While stroking myself (my ego! Get your mind out of the gutter!) today, I was reviewing my blog stats and found that MY blog is the number two to pop up on Google when you search on the following string:

          "stress induced gas"

This will not come as a surprise to my siblings, parents, husband or children. (Probably, it won't surprise my neighbor as my computer is situated next to the paper-thin front door of our apartment where I tend to be late at night when the world is quieter and the day's dose of teenage angst tends to fly out of me at a rather loud and, dare I say, noxious way.

But still...."Yay. I'm famous!" (sort of.)

And again, Becca, thank you for sticking that phrase into my head back when I was having my heart work ups last year. I was convinced that I was having angina attacks. You opined it was gas. You won. (My neighbor lost.) 

Differences in Parenting Kids Under 10 and Teenagers (aka MOTY 2013 Nomination Application)

Chat conversation between me and my sister last night:

Me:  Hey.  Howzit going? It's not even 10 pm and I'm ready to hit the sack.

     Sister:  I'm whipped, too and it isn't even 2pm.  How does that happen? ahahahahaha

Me:  I am fantasizing about empty nest syndrome.

     Sister:  You'd miss them like crazy.

Me:  Randa is tattling on the two youngest who are fighting in the girls' room. Is it wrong that I am totally able to tune out body slams?

     Sister:  Don't ask me. I can tune out damn near anything.

Me:  I just heard Samiya tell Aiman to get the eff off her stomach. *facepalm*

     Sister:  God help me when I have teens.

Me:  They've been at it for 20 minutes now. I'm at that "I just don't care anymore since they don't listen anyway" point.

     Sister:  Have you considered chores?  Maybe that cool "get along" t-shirt like they did the piece on in the HuffPo?

Me:  That would be like a cage match the likes of WWE "Hell in a Cell."  I'm beginning to understand why Mom let you and Lloyd kick the dog snot out of each other in the back seat on that road trip to Mobile when Dad stopped to buy gas and she was fed up with trying to keep the peace after 14 hours in the car.

     Sister:  I tend to separate the combatants when it gets physical. I find with mine when I separate them and don't let them interact, they immediately start finding ways to band together and gang up on me.  Sucks for me, but then they are getting along. Then again, they're 9 and 7 and have their own rooms so it's easy to separate them.

Me:  Not enough space here for that.

     Sister:  Bummer.

Me:  And only 10 more days for mid-term break to be over and I can send them back to school.

******Break in conversation for me to yell and scream and play referee**************************

Me:  I've lost my frickin' mind.

     Sister:  Huh?

Me:  THIS just transpired-  Sam:  He hit me and bruised me! Aiman: She called me a jerk! Sam: I'm going to KILL you! Me: You have FIVE minutes. No weapons. Close the damn door so I don't have to hear it and no one is allowed to cry, tattle or complain when I call time. GO!

     Sister: Are you serious?

Me:  Our mom was truly an inspiration to mothers of teens everywhere.

     Sister: Sounds like they need an outing....or an early bedtime. Hahahaha! And how do you do this without drinking?!  Wine is the best parenting tool I have.

Me:  Well, their 5 minutes are up and Sam has a black eye and her brother has a palm print across his face but I won't let them talk about it at all to me and they aren't allowed to fist-fight again for another 6 months. Ismail is in bed giggling his butt off. Time for me to go and DREAM about wine.

     Sister:  YIKES! Dream away.

Me:  Maybe I'll dream about Xanax cupcakes. G'night.

Not a Real Post.....Just Thinking Out Loud

Well, I don't have any idea what we're going to have for dinner today but I have been instructed that coleslaw is definitely going to be a side dish since my son  bought a small cabbage and sent it home to me today. *sigh*

So I'm guessing that 'fend for yourselves' day has been pushed back on my calendar. I don't mind cooking. In fact, I downright enjoy it most days. The trouble is with that dreaded question each morning, "WHAT am I going to make today?" If I ask my husband, the answer is always the same, "Anything." And I always complain, "But we had 'anything' yesterday. Can't you just TELL me what you want to eat????" Nope. Never can.

If I ask the kids it's usually something elaborate and time-consuming that I just don't have the energy to make (stuffed cabbage leaves...Pffffft! Uh, NO) or they'll ask for the exact same thing they had the day before....usually involving a lot of  pasta which leaves me sluggish and ready for a good night's sleep around 5:30pm.

So I am usually left to peruse the Pinterest boards (yay!) and drool over all the delicious looking meals on there that call for ingredients I don't have or cannot acquire here in Egypt (boo!) and then I look at the clock and realize "Damn! That 5  hours sure went by fast.....looks like salad, cheese and felafel sandwiches again."
But today we're going to have coleslaw...because Ismail decided. And because I actually have mayonnaise in the house today.  (I'd make my own but have no eggs.)  I'd leave that as the sole item on the menu but it's such a tiny head of cabbage that I'd be forced to send one of the kids down to the felafel stand again.

I'm grateful that we are a big time vegetable eating family. I don't have the usual problems getting veggies into my kids as a lot of mothers do. (Randa being the exception.) I think we have a kilo of green beans in the fridge so we'll have to clean those and make them next to the coleslaw. But I am pretty sure we'll have to have something in the form of meat next to that. They won't buy into an entirely vegetarian meal today. (We had vegetarian  pizza yesterday.)

Okay. THIS is by far THE most boring  post ever. I've nothing left to say so I'll end it here and perhaps post something REAL a bit later as the creativity bug bites.