Missing from the Blog

I've been gone for over two weeks. There's been plenty to write, but no time to write it in.

School is overwhelming. Iman is over doing it, and it's Ramadan.

My plate is not just full, it's overflowing.

Hopefully I'll be back soon with another one of her fun stories to share. But for now, this is all there is (for those of you that had noticed my absence).

The fascination with getting hurt

Last time I was at a pharmacy, I picked up a box of those kiddy band aids. The really cute kind that are small enough to fit on those tiny fingers AND they have adorable cartoons printed on them.

Being a mom to a 2 year old has taught me that band aids are now an essential for the house. Iman’s curiosity and active learning mind usually starts with exploring with her hands. And in this exploration, her fingers are the first to get injured.

So the last time Iman cut her finger, I was over enthusiastic about pulling out the new box of really cool band aids. I put one on her finger, and realized that her fascination superceded mine by far! This particular cartoon on her finger was a cat. First she used it as a puppet and put on a show for me. Then she kept tickling me with her injured finger exclaiming the “cattie coming to eat mama!”. Finally when Omair came home, she pointed her finger at him and said “look baba, cattie in the house!”. Omair innocently looked around for a cat, and Iman burst out laughing, and screaming “here, here” as she waved her finger around.

The great cat was a treat to have in the house. Iman was overjoyed with its presence. And even after it was time to take that band aid off, Iman insisted that she wanted to save her “cattie” from the trash can, and she carefully put it away in her toy box.

The actual fun began after the cat. When Iman realized that there is a box full of new and exciting band aids, she became the drama queen that she usually is…

She would walk around the house and purposely bump her finger against the sofa and run to me quickly saying “mama Iman got haieeee” (haieeee in her language translates to a boo boo, or whatever you may call it). I closely inspected it and told her that it wasn't band aid worthy, and in her defense she said “this one big haieeee, mama do magic foo” (magic “foo” is when I blow on the hurt part of her body and I end it with a long whistle sound) then she said, “still haieee, Iman need magic band aid”

Comfort Zones

We've all had friends who were our "other halves".

Kiran is like that for me.

We met at a mutual friend's party, and it was another 2 days later that we realized that we were meant for each other. She's just a quirky as I can be. She's a great listener. She's an even better talker! She loves to stand by her word (even when she realizes that she's wrong!). She's a perfect blend of eastern and western culture. And my favorite... she's just as neurotic about cleaning as I am :)

Our husbands get along really well. Our kids are the same age. We can meet at breakfast and spend the whole day together, and at 1 in the morning, we still want to stay another hour.

Zain, her husband, is totally cool with Iman. Since they have a son, Hassan, who is also 2, he has no hang-ups about our little one. He’ll sit and feed her. He’ll take her out for a walk, he’ll even sit and indulge her while she eagerly involves him in a tea party.

For Kiran, Iman is like her own daughter. She’ll cook for her, take her to the bathroom, play with her, and love her incredibly.

I’ve never had to think twice before asking them for something. And when they moved away last year, I didn’t know how we would live.

A year later her husband has gotten another job and they’ve moved back. Kiran got here this weekend, and she insisted that we come along for all the major household shopping and help set up the place. Her explanation…

“It’s going to be your house too, so you should have a fair say in what you want and where you want it”.

I’m so glad they’re back. I don't know how I got through last year without her.

There are three things going on in my mind right now

First thing… we’re back to work. Which in many ways should have been a good thing. It was supposed to give me a life outside of the house (which I really enjoy). AND… it was supposed to give Iman a chance to release her energy in a playful, fun and safe environment.

Unfortunately none of that happened.

School started, but daycare won’t be available until the 11th. Which means that Iman is with me all day. So here I am, with a load of work to do, lots of staff meetings to attend. Classroom to set up, worksheets to prepare… and Iman tagging along through it all.

My entire day goes by running after her, running to the bathroom or trying to feed her. I’m really far behind in my work, which is making me stress out.

Second thing… I’ve cursed myself. Yesterday after Iman was asleep, I was telling Omair that we’re really lucky to have such a cooperative kid. She took really well to the second round of potty training. In fact now, we were totally accident free and she was telling every time! And, even bigger… we shifted her to her own bed (yes, previously she was sleeping with us, I know… tsk tsk tsk). So here I was… boasting about our achievements. How we conquered potty training and managed to make sleep-time independent.

BUT… it was as though some evil force was just waiting for me to gloat.

Today, she flipped!! Not only have we had 4 accidents (all in the same day), she’s also refusing to get into her own bed (even though she was sleeping in it for the past week, and really enjoying the new “big girl” treatment).


Now the third thing… Omair is in the room right now with Iman, and she’s screaming bloody murder! She doesn’t want to sleep. I was in there with her, but she started making excuses. First, she said she wanted to sleep in our bed. Then she said she wanted a story, then she said she wanted me to lie next to her… The list continues. So I gave her a warning. We do this at bed time. I sit in the room with her (reading) and she’s supposed to sleep. If she dilly dallies or refuses to settle down, she gets a warning, and if the behavior continues, I leave the room. In turn, she decided that she was going to cry her lungs out. And Omair had to go in to settle things down. Obviously they aren’t settling. She’s crying, and I’m sitting here wondering if I should just let her sleep with us. Why does being firm make me a good mother? Why can’t I take the easy road and give in?

Ok, please don’t answer that.