I don’t share my Smarties

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I have absolutely no shame about this. I keep a stash of chocolate that I don’t share with anyone. Especially not the kids, ’cause I don’t want them to get cavities and stuff you know. Every mom needs this stash of something just for her. A stash of her favorite thing that she should eat without feeling guilty. This time I got Smarties from Dollarama. 

I kept it in my coat pocket. Yesterday when I walked the girls home from school, I sneakily ate those candy coated little bits of heaven while muahahaing inside. I felt like such a rebel.

“Ha ha ha. I am eating Smarties by myself and you guys have no idea!” Evil Me said inside my head.

“Mommy are you listening to me?” Asked Twin 1.

“Of course I am honeybun.” I smiled innocently at her, Evil Me muahahad again.

If you want to keep your sanity while dealing with all the craziness involved in raising children you need to treat yourself often.

If you are married to a Desi guy you need to indulge yourself in some secret luxury everyday. While you slave over the kitchen on the weekends while he does nothing (Desi men don’t help with house work) you can secretly gloat over the fact that you didn’t wash his 10 pairs of jeans. You just threw them in the dryer with lots of fabric freshening sheets. Oh yes I did.

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“Muahahahaha!”

 

Random Thought About : Snow. And Dogs.

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(Photo by me. Beautiful, clean and poop free snow!)

I just had a random thought. Why can’t dogs bury their poop like cats? I like dogs. I just don’t like their poop lying hidden in the grass. Another random thought, why don’t owners pick up their dog’s poop like they are supposed to? Does it give them some creepy joy, the thought of some unsuspecting random person accidentally stepping in their dog’s poop? Do they think it looks festive in the snow in winter? Do they know how hard it is to keep reminding six-year-old twins to watch where they are walking, don’t pick up the snow without examining it carefully to make sure it is dog poop free, and stay off the grassy edges of the sidewalk  because that is where dog owners like to leave the most dog poop? We don’t want to see dog poop. Not in the grass or in the snow, not by a tree or under the park bench. However we also don’t want to not see it, so just pick it up! OR get a cat. My rant for the day. Thank you.

dog poop

 

(photo from: http://hoboken411.com/archives/34284)

 

Spelling Bee

Twin One:  I asked Patchy (our cat) two questions and she got them both right!

Me:  Wow she must be a smart cat.

Twin One:  She is. I am smart too.

Me:  Yes I think you are pretty smart.

Twin One:  I can spell Birthday. I learnt it myself b-i-r-t-h and then d-a-y!

Me: (In the most impressed tone possible) Wow. That is great!

Twin One:  You know what else I can spell?

Me:  Tell me.

Twin One:  I can also spell  dog pooh. D-o-g  p-o-o-h!

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(Bee sticker photo courtesy of Twin One)

Spring Cleaning

I need to stay away from the internet if I want to finish writing my book. I’m on chapter 8, and I also wrote the last chapter and some stuff in the middle. That is also how I read novels. I often read the middle and end first just because.

So I am trying hard to resist the temptation of Facebook and reading blogs. It’s very difficult. I tried to  read some stuff on writing and I wanted to bang my head against the wall when I read this: Revision and self-editing.   I hope it helps any of you who are in editing stages. I clicked on the links which although maybe very useful I found to be well, very difficult to follow. Since I am not at the editing stage I hope to forget all about it for now.

Unfortunately I can’t sit and write all day because apparently family members need to be fed and the house can’t clean itself. There are lots of things for kids to throw garbage in when they are tidying up. Don’t forget to check all your vases when doing the spring cleaning.

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I like vases. All shapes. All sizes. All colors.

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I do not like what I find in them.

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The start of a Guinness record holding rubber band ball. I am not adding the picture of some ‘organic’ material I found. It was either a dead animal or the remains of a school lunch sandwich from before last year’s summer vacation.

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This is how I know one of my twins got hold of my camera.march 26 014

There are other things besides spring cleaning that keep me from writing that NYT best-seller.

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This is one of them.

What distracts you from doing that great thing you were born to do?

(All pics courtesy of my camera and my willing feline model)

Miriam Makeba

Today on Google I found this :

Miriam Makeba's 81st birthday

Today is Miriam Makeba‘s birthday. I had no idea who she was ( shame on me) and thank you Google for teaching us so many things we don’t know ( but should). You have to go and read all about her on Wikipedia because her story is incredible; from spending the first six months of her life in jail to becoming a Grammy Award winning singer and civil rights activist. You also have to hear her, incredible voice and catchy music. She was exiled from South Africa for nearly thirty years because she actively campaigned against apartheid, but she kept singing. In fact she sang till the day she died. So many incredibly inspiring people we can learn from.

Ode to husbands

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Oh dear husband so loyal and true,
How do you manage to make me so blue?
Could it be all those rolled up, smelly socks
That is putting this extra gray in my locks?
Why do you so kindly offer to cook?
Then be cruel and not let me read my book?
I hand you every ingredient, chop everything up,
Then have to wash every pot, plate and cup.
You have to look after the kids too you know,
It’s not like I brought them in my trousseau.
Just how they drive me nuts, you have not an inkling,
As you sit in front of the computer screen blinking.
I think it is time you cleaned up your act,
Time to grow up as a matter of fact!
Your dirty laundry lying behind the bathroom door,
I ain’t gonna pick that up no more!
While I lug the groceries you let the door slam in my face,
I think I can arrange for your neck to be in a brace.
So become a gentleman or watch your back,
Before you find yourself tied to the train tracks.

(sketch courtesy of me-because every picture I googled was copyrighted :0)

Lost in Translation: Part One

  Did you ever play that game Chinese whispers? I don’t ever remember playing it. To compensate this childhood deprivation God has blessed me with a husband and kids who live Chinese Whispers. You don’t get it? Let me demonstrate. Introducing the cast:

Slovenly Teen: 15

Only Son: 13

Middle Child: 8 (I also refer to her as ‘sweet child o mine’- she is the only one I want to admit is my actual offspring)

Twin 1: 5

Twin 2: coincidentally also 5

Husband: Peter Pan

Me: 18 till I Die (Bryan Adams rocks..eh)

Random Situation 1:

Slovenly Teen, the reigning champion of sleeping in, is still in bed on Saturday evening..no night..of course I am not exaggerating! Whatever gave you the idea I exaggerate?

Me: “Wake up goddammit! It’s almost Sunday, look at the filthy mess in this room, I am not cleaning up after you, you over grown gargantuan sloth. You get up right now and wash those dishes, I wash them all week. The least you can do is help out on the weekend, you good for nothing massive waste of carbohydrates. What kind of example are you setting for your younger sisters? All right that is it, I am throwing our all your junk….here it goes…did you hear me?”

What Slovenly Teen actually hears:

“My poor exhausted precious pearl! You have worked hard looking swag all week. Baby you need a rest! Now don’t you dare try to get up and put things away, no no no! Mama will do that for you, my darling angel! Just right after I get your good for nothing sisters to wash the dishes and clean up your room I am going to cook your favorite …now what do you feel like? Lasagna or chicken cacciatore? You are so beautiful it is unbelievable and just for being that good-looking I think I’m gonna bake my baby a cake! Here honey let me put your beats on your ears for you…you just relax and continue snoozing the day away sugar-plum.”

Random Situation 2:

Xbox addicted Only Son had been playing since 4 pm and it is now 7 pm  The twins are fainting from severe lack of Tree House. Yes I insist on keeping one and only one TV!

Me: “You need to turn that game off now! You have been playing for five hours now. Other people in this house need the TV you know! If you don’t turn that goddamn thing off right now, you won’t play for a week. I don’t care if you have ten friends online, if their mothers are ok with their sons turning into a bunch of zombie gamers, fine with me. Are you listening to me? ”

What Only Son hears: “Most precious only male child and carrier of the family name. Continue on your quest of becoming the greatest gamer in the history of mankind and bring me pride. You have only been playing for half an hour and I know it will take hours of hard work to perfect your great skill at killing underage players online violently and mercilessly. I take great delight in every kill you make. It makes my heart sing while you comment loudly, with strange verbal embellishments,  into that expensive mouth piece earphone thing set that I most happily agreed upon buying. Play on noble son, play on.”

Random Situation 3:

Twin 2 greatly frustrated while I am busy in the kitchen, comes to me with the complaint that her Xbox addicted brother has still not turned off the game.

Me: “Okay, just let me finish up what I am doing and I’ll come and have a talk with your brother.”

Twin 2 to Only Son: “Mom said you better get off that goddammit game right now or she is going to break it into gazillions of pieces and throw them off the roof. And then you are going to get a spanking. DO IT NOW!”

Random Situation 4:

Peter Pan  husband is on the internet. I have issues that I need to discuss.

Me: “The groceries are almost finished you need to go shopping, and I was wondering what to cook for dinner. Do you want to have traditional stuff tonight or something non-desi? Did you know Only Son’s dentist appointment is next week? There is a sale on at the mall, I think we should go. You have got to talk to that daughter of yours! Her room is a mess, you need to get more involved with the kids, I can’t do everything you know! There is something wrong with the vacuum cleaner and the cat, they are both throwing up hairballs. Do you think I have started looking..old? You need to get some exercise, you sit too long at that damn computer, the twins have vaccinations due.  Middle child brought home an open house circular from school and…”

What husband actually hears: “Blah blah blah blabbidy bloo blah blah blabber blabber blabber blah blah blabbidy bleep blah blah blah…”

Husband: “Okay”

So what does your family hear when you are trying to communicate?

(All pics from Google Images)

It’s Always a Good Time

I yelled at the kids to go to sleep early one Saturday night in the summer vacation so we could get up early and be out of the house by eleven at the most. I woke up at 11:21. Everyone was up before me. No one realized that they could not actually leave the house if I was still snoring away. So I had to start yelling again as soon as I woke up. They just wanted to let me sleep in, isn’t that sweet? The day I need to wake up early, they finally let me sleep in. My kids make sure my vocal cords get plenty of exercise every day. The thing is I don’t really dream of being an opera singer.
After ranting about the height of negligence that my kids and their father have been endowed with, I started making brunch and packing picnic food. I had marinated the chicken the night before. Good thing I have an obsessive compulsive disorder with organization. Unfortunately this does not go good with my absent-mindedness. But that is life. Isn’t it ironic, don’t ya think?
Picnics are loads of fun with five kids. I pack enough stuff to make you believe I was going away for a month. 5-year-old twins mean you need lots of extra clothes and towels. You never know who is going to decide to get carsick. They’ve been trained to give a 5 second warning so I can catch it in a plastic bag.
So I make an Olympic record for the best time in the ‘make breakfast, feed kids, pack picnic, yell at kids to get ready, close all lids on toilet seats, feed cat, and push everyone out the door’ event. We get in the car and as soon as we are in the kids start fighting over seats. No one wants to sit at the back with the twins. I can’t blame them. Who the hell enjoys catching vomit in a plastic bag?
We had to stop to buy buns and drinks. And coal. And lighter fluid. Because husband does not have any sort of obsessive compulsive disorder and efficiently tunes out when I start listing off ‘things to do’. So I sit in the car while he buys stuff, and try to ignore the kids who are arguing about who will sit where on the way back. I receive a phone call from husband, “I can’t find the buns”.
By 1:45 we were sitting outside the second grocery store because husband could not find coal at the first. After 25 minutes he comes out smiling. Success. It took two people 25 minutes to find lighter fluid. We finally move on. On the road husband realizes someone’s door is not closed right. At the first red light we all open and slam the doors really fast, green light we drive on but one door is still not closed right.  Change radio station because no one likes the song. Yell at kids to stop yelling at each other. Next stop light, door open, door slam, door still not closed thank you ma’am. Kids still yelling at each other about whose door is not shut properly. Teenage daughter only has enough strength to hit her brother in the back of the head and that is all. For anything else her hands seem to have no life. Have to change radio station every two minutes. Husband wants to know why all the songs sound exactly the same. We pull into someone’s driveway and husband gets out to close the door shut.
Teenagers are now commenting on all the ‘swoggy’ people they see on the way. As if they are full of swag themselves. Change radio station.
At the lake finally, more bickering among offspring. Who will pick up what and why they get to pick up that particular object. Deciding on the perfect spot takes about 20 minutes, but by now I have started to tune everyone out. It is such a beautiful day. Warm and sunny. We are finally settled, I just want to get in that water. I walk in and my longed for peace is replaced with horror. The water is freezing. God dammit!
“We don’t even have to try it’s always a good time..O o o ..”
(All images are from Google Images)

 

Having Doubts

I was reading through ‘when in doubt’ quotes because I am in doubt. When I am not procrastinating, I am busy being in doubt. I found some enlightening advice and I thought you could use it.

“When in doubt, don’t.”  Benjamin Franklin

“When in doubt, do it.” Oliver Wendell Holmes

“When in doubt or danger, run in circles, scream and shout.” Laurence J. Peter

“When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So what the hell, leap.”
Cynthia Heimel

I found all this extremely helpful. Especially running around in circles and screaming, it relieves the tension and gives the kids a good laugh. And if you think you are making a fool of yourself, act like an intellectual so you seem ‘brilliantly creative’ to everyone else.

Seriously though doubt is so hard to deal with, all the advice says ‘just write’ and keep writing. As Dory would say “just keep swimming”.

 

But how do you convince yourself? Sometimes I just want to lock my laptop up and throw away the key. Just forget about the whole thing. Sometimes I just sit there and cry while I eat plenty of chocolate. I am not good enough, there are too many people already writing, I don’t have a Master’s degree in English Literature, I don’t post enough on my blog, I don’t have any articles or short stories published in any of the ‘big’ magazines, I am not a member of any affiliation for writers, I don’t have time, I do have time but I can’t do it, I have too much housework, I will end up not giving the kids enough time and they will end up disturbed juvenile delinquents, the kitchen floor needs to be mopped. The thing that is behind everything is doubt that I just can’t write at all. And I thought it was just me, but apparently even published writers have their doubts: How to Conquer Self Doubt and Just Write

And if that inspires you enough then you might want to try writing a short story for this competition: Young Adult Fiction Competition

They extended the deadline, so if you stop doubting and get writing you can make the dead line. Good luck.

(All Images from Google Images)

Parents Just Don’t Understand

Sometimes after I have finished yelling at my kids, I wonder what it would be like to be in their place. Then my imagination goes a little wild and takes on different personalities, like a desi teenage boy. Here is an article I wrote for Dawn when my imagination was him.

Yo! You have crazy parents dude? Man I’m telling you they don’t understand anything. It’s like after 30 their brains stop working. And if your parents are Desi, man you have the worst type of parents ever! Desi parents? They speak desi, they think desi, they act desi, they spend desi. You can’t help but think “Yo old man why are we here? You should have kept us all in Desi Land!” And they tell you they came to give you better opportunities than they had. But man they can only think with desi brains and all those opportunities go out the backdoor. All my white friends, they don’t have it half bad. They’re lucky man. At least their parents speak the same language. Don’t believe me?

I had a pain in my tooth, had it for days man. Kept telling my mom I’ve got to see a dentist, you know what she tells me?

“Aye Allah! Who knows what that man will do to you putr! Here put this in you mouth.” Then she shoved a broken clove into my mouth and shut it so hard I almost bit my tongue off.

“This tastes like ‘bleep’ Ma!” And I tried to spit it out but she grabbed my face in her hands. Dude you won’t believe the hand muscles desi women develop from kneading all that dough!

She made me stuff cloves in my tooth for one month. Then the dentist told me I’d have to get a root canal. My old man wasn’t too happy about that. Not the pain I’d go through. The cost man! Dude, desi parents have desi wallets. Literally. My old man bought 42 wallets from his last visit to Desi Land. He got them off a thela for Rs45 each. That’s less than 45 cents. You can’t imagine his joy when he tells everyone he meets how much he saved on those wallets. You can’t imagine mine either. Anyways he tells the dentist,

“Just pull the tooth out! He doesn’t need that one much, he has plenty of others.”

“Mr Chaudry we need to eliminate the infection otherwise…” says the dentist.

“Otherwise what? No one will be willing to give their daughter’s hand in marriage to him?” says the old man.

That night he tried to pull my tooth out himself with a pair of pliers. Lucky for me I’m the only son and my mom beat him off with her rolling pin. Those desi wallets are like black holes, nothing ever seems to come out of them dude. Asking desi parents for money is like asking the cute white girl in your class to a high school dance with you. The answer is always ‘NO!’ Desi parents wait till Boxing Day to buy you stuff. Yeah they don’t give you the money. They take you shopping dude.

“Oh putr, look at this! 70 per cent off! And in your size too!” says Ma.

“Ma it’s got a picture of Justin Bieber on the front, everyone will think I’m ‘bleepin’ gay.”

“Tauba tauba! All that ‘bleep’ was not enough for you? Now this ‘bleepin’ stuff!” She’s least concerned about the Chinese couple who have covered their kids’ ears. “What is wrong with being happy? And he is such a decent boy, look at that innocent smile.”

“Ma! It’s something a kid would wear.” I try to drag her away.

“Are you not my kid?” The old man asks loudly and everyone in the shop turns to look questioningly at Ma.

“Man! Stop being so loud Dad, come on…” I try to drag them both out.

“No, this matter must be settled!” He glares at me then at Ma. “Is he not my kid?” By now there is a crowd wondering at my legitimacy. I pick up the Justin Bieber T-shirt.

“Alright! I love Justin Bieber and I want to buy his ‘bleepin’ T-shirt because I’m happy ok?” I scream and everyone gasps.

The seven dollar shirt hangs in my closet. Justin Bieber smiles at me every time I open the door to get the Rs800 Leisure Club shirt my cousin managed to send me with the old man.